Wondering whether I made her forget about that guy who was standing outside her condo earlier this evening.
And when I return to my bedroom, she’s just finishing putting her shorts back into place. Her tank top is rolled back down over those luscious tits, and she looks freshly fucked, a soft glow all around her.
She presses her lips together a little awkwardly, and I wait for her next move.
She clears her throat, her eyes edging toward the doorway and away from me. “Well. Let’s not let that get in the way of the work we have to do, okay?”
I raise my brows and nod, and she turns to walk out of my bedroom.
I walk her to my front door under exactly zero illusions that this is going to end with any sort of goodnight kiss or sweet sentiment, and I open the door to usher her out and back to her place.
“Goodnight,” she says softly. Tenderly. Much more tenderly than I deserve since I’m not inviting her to stay, but it’s not like she asked, and it’s not like either one of us wants it.
“Goodnight.” I watch as she walks to her door, and just before she slips inside, I add, “Next time, I’m not letting you go without tasting your cunt.”
I close my door before I catch her reaction to my words, immediately regretting the admission that there might, in fact, be anext time.
CHAPTER 19: Everleigh Bradley
All I Want to Do is Talk About It
I lean against the back of my front door as my fingertips come up to touch my lips.
I can’t believe his parting words.
Holy shit, for a guy who’s so closed off emotionally, he certainly knows how to deliver on the sex front. Just the merethoughtof his mouth against my pussy has it clenching in need for him as if he didn’t just deliver not one, buttwoof the most intense orgasms of my life.
I thought Billy was a good lover.
Holy hell on a hot dog, he hadnothingon Maverick Jennings.
The man can use his body. And his hands.
I wonder how many other women he’s entertained there. I wonder if he allowed them to stay the night. I wonder if he hated them, too, or if it’s something that makes me special.
I also wonder what sort of fuckery he performed on my brain that’s making me think these thoughts in particular. His hatred of me makes me special? I need to get a fucking grip.
But no. Instead, I continue to lean against my front door with my hand on my mouth as I float on a cloud of bliss.
Yeah, I’m fucked all right.
I was angry about Billy showing up unannounced. I was a little tipsy from the amount of tequila I had to get through the conversation I had with my ex. I was tired and ready to go to bed but couldn’t sleep over the blaring music coming from my asshole next-door neighbor.
When I went over there banging on his door, I didn’t expect the outcome to be him banging me. A hate fuck, he called it.
It felt like more.
I’m still not sure why I agreed to it. I’m not sure why I thought it was a good idea. I’m not sure what it’ll mean for us working together going forward.
But I am sure that it was a night I’ll never forget.
I freshen up and slip beneath my covers. I was under no illusion that he’d invite me to stay, and so I left before it got even more awkward than it already was. On my part, anyway. I don’t know that Maverick would ever feel awkward about a damn thing in his life because I’m pretty sure he doesn’t feel anything at all.
I think he’s figured out some way to shut off his emotions, and it’s sort of become my job to tap back into those.
That’s not why I had sex with him, though it could be a benefit.
I had sex with him because I couldn’t seem to stop myself. I walked over there ready to rip his head off, and instead we took our aggressions and our feelings out on each other in this unexpected but beautiful chaos.
