He wouldn’t mind, right? Just one little lick to satisfy my curiosity.
“You need to know I haven’t given one thought to another woman beyond a random, meaningless night since she died, and that was fucking fine. So now, tell me, Summer… Why can’t I get you out of my head? Why am I thinking about kissing your mouth before burying my face in your pussy?”
I whimpered, listening to his words and feeling my stomach tighten with need. “Oh, yes.”
“You like that, don’t you? Knowing not one damn person has caught my interest but you.”
“Maverick. I—”
“No. Just listen. Listen to how fast my pulse races in your presence. How harshly I breathe. Feel my cock pressed against the soft flesh of your belly, longing to be buried so deep inside of you we’re not sure where I end and you begin.”
“Why are you saying these things to me?” I moaned, finally allowing myself to taste the warm skin of his neck. It was addicting—hewas addicting—and I wanted nothing more than to fully give myself over to him.
“Because you deserve to know that you’ve been on my mind. To know what you do to me. And I deserve to know if you feel the same.”
My head jerked away from him, and I licked my lips, his taste lingering on my tongue. A large hand left my waist and traveled up my back to thread in my hair. He tugged hard, tilting my head so our eyes met. Those blue eyes were darker than the ocean at midnight and filled with so much yearning that I felt like a pervert watching something forbidden.
“Tell me, Summer. Please fucking tell me this isn’t all in my head,” he begged, leaning so close we shared the same air. His lips caressed the side of my face, moving closer to where I desperately needed them. “I’d make things so good for you, baby.”
“Please,” I breathed, barely able to get the word out before I turned my head to meet his lips.
When our mouths met, instead of the anticipated heady lust reaching a boiling point and us dueling for dominance, he caressed mine so reverently, my knees went weak and the air dissipated from my lungs. I wanted more—neededmore—and knew this was the man who could give it to me. My hips rolled into his, and he growled, letting his tongue peek out from between his lips to trace mine.
“That’s not an answer. Give it to me, Summer. Give me what I want. What you need.”
“What the hell is going on in there?” Dad yelled from the living room, startling us.
We broke apart like we’d been electrocuted, and I almost fell forward, not ready to sever contact with him. Maverick moved both hands to my shoulders and gently pushed me back. I stumbled, my tennis shoes squeaking on the tiled floor.
“We will finish this conversation when we can’t be interrupted. Understand?”
His voice commanded obedience, and a part of me wanted to pull him upstairs, slam my bedroom door, and let him deliver on every filthy word. But the more rational part wondered why he’d had this sudden change of heart, and I didn’t want to commit to anything without an explanation. This made little sense. And yet, it felt right.
“I smell something burning,” Dad continued, voice carrying over the roar of my pulse. “Does that mean we can order pizza instead of whatever rabbit food you’re making?”
“Dammit,” I said, shaking my head and pressing a palm to my inflamed cheeks.
The olive oil on the stovetop was bubbling and smoking in the pan, making the entire kitchen hot and hazy. Maverick grabbed the pan and put it in the sink, turning on the cold water as I switched the vent on to get rid of the smell.
“You’ll have salmon and enjoy it, old man!” I called, chuckling to dispel my nervous energy.
“Fine but bring me a beer.”
“Yeah. Yeah. Do you want a beer as well? I keep the good stuff in the garage,” I said to Maverick, pulling the now cooled pan from the sink.
I tried to pass off my embarrassment like this was just a casual conversation between two neighbors, but my shaky voice and flushed cheeks betrayed me. I pressed a palm to my face again as Maverick crowded my space, leaning close enough to take my hand and press a kiss to my palm.
“We will finish this later, right?”
I nodded, trying to smile as he squeezed my hand.
“Then I will take a beer. Will your dad want a mug?” Maverick asked, running a hand through his hair.
“Nope, but I’ll take one, please.”
“You got it. Where would you be if I wasn’t here to handle the ex and help with dinner? Do your meals always end up with the kitchen smoking and a visit from the fire department?”
My eyes widened, and for a moment, I held my breath, expecting to hear sirens. When I didn’t, I scoffed. “Just get us the beers, would you?”
