It doesn’t matter that Dee and Nix are in the front seats. This, whatever is happening between Maverick and I, matters. I frantically undo his belt buckle and pants, pulling his jeans and boxers down to his upper thighs. He settles back between my legs when his dick springs free. The car radio is switched on then, with the volume turned up.
Eminem featuring Rihanna“I Love the Way You Lie”is playing.
This song is so fucking fitting, because Maverick and I are toxic to each other, but can’t stay away from each other.
He sits back on his knees. He uses his left hand to pull my thong to the side, revealing my pussy, while he uses his other hand to guide his dick between my pussy lips. Once he positions his dick at my entrance, he covers my body with his. He groans as his dick slowly enters heat. When he’s fully seated, he drops his head in the crook of my neck as we moan together.
I cross my ankles at the small of his back as he starts to fuck me savagely. We grip each other’s hair and resume our kissing. The force of his deep strokes causes my head to hit against the door. I feel heat pool in my stomach before my orgasm hits me with so much intensity that I break the kiss and scream. Maverick gives a few more powerful thrusts, and then groans, spilling his cum inside me. We stay like that for a few minutes before I realize that the car is stationary. The engine is off and so is the music. We must be at Dee’s house. Reality is slowly closing in. My boundaries are resurfacing.
“Maverick, please get off me.”
My thighs are sticky from his cum. He doesn’t fight me like I thought he would, but instead, he does as I ask. Maybe the reality of what we just did hit him, too. As we fix our clothes, we don’t look at each other.
“Maverick, can you take me home please?”
“Yeah.”
We leave the back seat and move to the front of the jeep. The drive is awkwardly silent. He turns onto the dirt road that leads to my house.
“Stop, I’ll walk from here.”
I can tell he looks at me then from the corner of my eye.
Please, don’t fight me on this.
If he drives up there, I know it’ll be a fight between him, Saint, Micah, and Lo. He stops the jeep to let me out.
Thank God.
I don’t look back at him as I walk down the dirt road.
How could I let this happen?
When I get close to the house, my friends come out to converge on me. Saint’s jaw is swollen, and he’ll be sporting a black eye soon.
“You fucked him, didn’t you?” demands Saint. “Your hair is wild, your lipstick is smeared, and your skirt is twisted.”
I know the guilt is written all over my face. Lo looks disappointed. Micah isn’t a judgmental person, so his face is neutral. Saint rubs a hand down his face.
“So, you are the slut he accuses you of being. No matter what I do, you’ll never pick me. You want someone who doesn’t respect you. Is that it? Should I publicly embarrass you? Is that what you want?” He laughs without humor.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
“You’re sorry,” shouts Saint as he grasps my shoulders, shaking me.
“Easy, man.” Micah pulls him back.
“You know what, I’m done. I’m done with you.”
“You don’t mean that, Saint.” I start to cry.
He walks away.
“Where are you going?” asks Lo.
“Back to Los Angeles.”
“It’s almost 11:00 p.m.,” says Micah.
