Changing the world means forgiving. It means changing yourself. It means extending a soft heart and a kind soul to those who need it most, not because it’s easy, but because it’s the right thing to do. I don’t know if anything has a purpose behind it, if there’s something greater than all of this, or if the universe has any order, but whether it does or doesn’t, I know we were made to end up here. There’s no other place in this universe, or any of the ones that might come after, that I would rather be.
I started to fall in love with you from this date of this first letter.
I promise to keep falling.
Forever, and if we’re lucky enough, far beyond.
Maverick
I know why Maverick gave me a moment alone with this. It’s so I can gather myself and not be a hot mess by the time he comes back, sniffling and crying unabashedly, although I know he’d be right here for me if I wanted him to be.
I’m sniffling so loudly that the cats raise their heads from their new cat bed on the couch. It’s a big cow shaped into a circle. They’ve loved it from the second Maverick bought it for them.
I smile through the tears and set the letter aside because I don’t want to ruin it. The cats are staring at me and I wipe my eyes on the back of my hand.
“It’s okay. I’m just happy ugly crying.”
Pumpkin lets out a massive yawn, but his yellow orange eyes stay fixed on me, at least until Sprite shifts and startspunching biscuits in the side of the bed. Pumpkin follows her lead, repositioning and tucking tight to her in their little cat cluster.
I fold the letter back up, slip it into its envelope, and set it on the side table. I haven’t heard the blender start up yet. I fling myself off of the bed and race upstairs, taking them two at a time. It’s dangerous, because the treads are so close together and they’re bald wood, but I don’t care. I throw open the door, arc in a skidding circle, and race into the kitchen.
Maverick has all the ingredients out on the counter, but he hasn’t put anything into the blender yet.
My heart is racing even harder now. I’ve been keeping up with yoga and breathing exercises, but clearly, my cardio needs improvement.
Or maybe I’m just breathless at the sight of this man. So tall and solid, a god in jeans and a t-shirt, muscles popping and bulging even though he’s not doing anything other than standing there. Existing. His scent wraps around me, masculine and so completely him. I remember every second of him in my space, larger than life, standing in my apartment’s tiny kitchen. I remember how much it hurt to try and chase him away.
I thought I’d succeeded.
I thought I’d never see him again.
I thought that he’d be far better off.
I’m so glad that I was wrong about all of it.
I can’t imagine a life without him in it. I never truly could.
I have a thousand words for him, but what comes out is the most practical, and that makes it seem totally absurd. “I don’t actually want a smoothie anymore.”
I run across the kitchen and throw my arms around Maverick’s neck. He catches me, drawing me into him, buffering me so that our bodies crush together instead of slamming painfully. My hard nipples crush against his solid chest, and a thousand fireworks explode on the inside. His arms drape around me like they were made to do exactly that. His fingers splay over my hip, cupping my ass through my leggings. They’re so thin that the heat of him melts into me immediately. His hard cock is trapped between us, throbbing in his jeans.
I’ve had him in my hands, my mouth, pressed against me. I’ve watched him jack himself more than once, spraying hot jets of his come over me, marking me, owning me. I’ve been naked with him, every inch of our bodies pressed together, but I haven’t taken him inside of me.
I tilt my chin up to stare directly into his bottomless, dark eyes. “Love me,” I whisper.
He bows his head in response, a nod. His stubble scrapes over my jaw as he nuzzles my face. His erection throbs against my belly. Something new blooms deep inside of me. An urgency like I’ve never known. I thought I knew what want was, what desire was, especially where this man was concerned, but I had no idea. I’m desperate enough to claw out of my own skin just to be under his.
The last thing I thought I’d ever want was to know what it meant to be conquered. That was such a frightening concept, giving up control completely. Maverickknewthat far before Idid. He has never pushed me once to give him something that I felt that I couldn’t.
I want to be completely undone. I want to be at his mercy, owned, unequivocally and entirelyhis.
He’s so close, his mouth right there, his breath warm on my cheek, but he doesn’t claim me. He lets me come to him. He might have taken me out of my apartment, but even that, in the end, was my choice. We’ve been changing and growing together, but he’s always let me initiate. I didn’t realize either, how much I needed that in order to heal.
My lips meet his. I press harder into him, driving him into the counter, trying to resist the urge to climb him. Mercifully, his hand snakes into my hair, cupping the back of my head, drawing me even tighter.
The kiss is gentle at first, despite the passion simmering in my blood and my need for there to be absolutely nothing between us. I’ve never wanted to unleash myself and be so devoured in turn. It’s coming. I love the fire of this lead up. It’s not gas and flames that burns itself down to ash in a manner of seconds. This is deep and searching, yearning, all the motion of our past rolled into where we are now. We’ve already come through the flames. Passed through one hell of a baptism to come together.
Maverick applies more pressure, tilting my face back with his hand in my hair, parting my lips with a sweep of his tongue. I open my mouth to him. When he groans deeply, I take that sound inside of my own body. I take his breath right down my throat, into my own lungs.
