I dive in.
Truly, I could eat this pussy every morning for breakfast. Nothing but Maggie and coffee would sustain me. She tastes so good, and I revel in the fact that she wakes up this soaked next to me, smelling like my scent and ready to be eaten. I feel like a wild animal that wants to rub my scent all over and piss on her so that no one else will ever look her way again.
I rub my nose into her clit before switching to my lips and then grazing it with my teeth. My tongue works and a hum radiates from deep inside my throat as I taste her.
“Did you know gorillas hum songs when they eat?”
She laughs as she chews, “Are you comparing yourself to a gorilla right now?”
I hum harder against her clit, eliciting a gasp.
“And they sing songs when it’s their favorite food.”
I clear my throat dramatically, then burst into an enthusiastic rendition of the NSYNC song I’d been humming while making her breakfast, my voice vibrates against her opening as if it's a microphone.
She cackles, folding her body over my head as she swipes at tears in her eyes. “You’re a nut, Clay.”
I smile before pulling away and pointing at the glass of ice water positioned beside her. “Give me a sip of that, please.”
She brings the glass to my lips gently and I suck, drawing out an ice cube and rolling it between my tongue, cooling my mouth. She watches as I hold it between my teeth and tongue, drop back between her legs and this time, roll it over her opening and across her clit.
She squirms and squeals, shifting slightly on the counter as she does her best to hold on. I pause, spiking my tongue inside ofher again before drawing the cube back out and over her clit. Her fingers dig into my neck as she drapes her body over me.
“Clay…” she moans, and then I feel it, that sweet tightening and release in her body as she cries out my name in breathy sighs and falls apart so beautifully in my arms.
A few minutes later, I’ve cleaned her up and slid my shirt back in place over her body so that I’m not tempted to take her again. I feel like a virgin. Even the sight of her dainty, bare ankles cause me to harden. I carry her to my kitchen table, and we’re now seated opposite each other, a safe enough distance that I can't reach out and touch her the way I really want to. We’re laughing, caught up in effortless conversation about her time working with McKenna at the hospital and her post-graduation plans this winter. I fill her in on the tournament I’ve signed up for at the end of July.
“So, you’re almost ranked in first place. What does that mean for the tournament?”
“First means I get better fighters, better chance of winning the whole thing.”
She chews thoughtfully on a piece of bacon. “You’re going to win it regardless of what ranking you have going into it.”
I smile, feeling that familiar pang in my chest—something new, something I hadn’t realized I was missing until now. The warmth of having someone who believes in me, someone who supports what I love doing, for once.
It’s strange, but in the best way possible. A stark contrast to how it felt with Savannah, who had asked me to stop fighting, afraid I’d get hurt and embarrassed by the longing to do something more. I’d embraced her hobbies as she’d come up with them and I understood the difference in how dangerous mine were, but life is full of risks. With Maggie, it feels different. She trusts me enough to believe I’ll know when to quit, when to pull back. The truth is, maybe she shouldn’t.
Because I’m not even sure I know when to quit.
“Thanks for having my back,” I say, my voice softer. “You and Dallas are probably the only ones who would ever support me in this. If my brothers found out…” I shake my head, chuckling. “They're always on my case about coming around more and working at the ranch. Honestly, I think they’re already suspicious about where I’ve been disappearing to most nights and what I’ve been doing with Dallas every morning. The other day, Wylie showed up at Dallas’ farm at five in the morning while we were training. Nearly caught me throwing some blows.”
Just as I’m about to go on, her phone vibrates on the table next to us. The name flashing on the screen—her dad’s—snaps me back to reality. It’s a reminder that, despite how easy things feel between us, life is always there, waiting in the wings outside of the safety of my apartment and what was started last night.
“Should you answer that?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “My dad worries…incessantlyabout me. Even when I was away at school, he’d still call me almost every day to check in. It’s sweet and I love him so much, but it can be stifling at times.”
I raise a brow, “What’s he so worried about?”
She chews her lip nervously as if she’s trying to think about how to explain this to me. “He’s mostly worried about me being alone.”
I set my fork down on my plate and raise a brow, “What do you mean ′being alone?′”
She waves a hand in the air trying to dismiss it. “Like, when he dies someday. I don’t have any siblings… him and my mom were also only children, so I don’t have any aunts or uncles. His parents are gone… he’s worried I’ll be alone when he leaves this earth.”
Chief Hollister was in his late forties and in excellent shape according to my assessment—something that shouldn’t becrossing his mind, but knowing he’d lost Maggie’s mom so young; it makes sense that he’d be hyper-aware of his health. Maybe that’s where his concern for her is coming from.
“So… what exactly is he after?” I ask, not entirely sure what to expect.
