Before I knew it, an invisible tether had me tilting backward, drawn into his aura like a moth circling the edge of an inferno, ready to be consumed. My eyes slipped closed as I breathed him in, dizzy with something I couldn’t name as his arms slipped around my waist.
His fingers dug into my skin, wrinkling the fabric of my dress as I moved to face him. My shoulder brushed his arm, and he closed his eyes, tilting his head back and groaning.
Then everything exploded in vivid technicolor desire. My back hit the closed front door with a dull thud and then…Maverick’s lips were on mine. Heated. Desperate. Demanding, as his tongue tangled with mine and he swallowed my startled whimper. One hand fisted the nape of my neck while the other continued to grip my waist with bruising force.
I gripped his shirt with greedy hands, tugging him closer and chasing the heat of his body. I needed the friction like I needed to breathe, and I scrabbled against the buttons of his shirt as he dragged me up tightly against him. His thigh slipped between mine like it was made to fit there as his erection ground hard against my belly. I moaned into his willing mouth, curling my leg slightly around him to press myself closer. He tasted of the milkshake we’d split, with undertones of the wine we’d had before.
I wanted him. Wanted us. Wanted everything.
And just as I lost myself to sensation, rocking my hips forward with a mindless, burning need, he tore himself away—like I’d burned him. One second his mouth was on mine, his breath erratic and hot, and the next, he had taken three steps backward, his chest heaving and his blue eyes wide with lust. Maverick’s lips had my lipstick smeared on them, and his hair was wild, as my entire body trembled with need.
There was a beat of silence. Then another, before he ran a hand through his hair and opened his mouth. His pitch was off, voice higher than normal as he spoke, tasting each word like they had offended him.
“I’m sorry,” he said, taking another step back. I leaned my head against the door and closed my eyes, breathing deeply. “Did I hurt your head?”
“What? No, I’m okay,” I said, rubbing the back of my head. “And there’s no need to apologize.”
“No need?” he scoffed, turning his head and focusing on Malibu, who was sitting in the large, open living room, her head tilted. She hadn’t made a noise since we walked in, almost as if she sensed the seriousness of the situation.
“Never apologize for kissing me like that, Mav.”
I pushed off the door and strode past him, squeezing his biceps, then dropping to my knees to shower the pup with affection. I cooed, scratching behind her ears, telling her what a good girl she was for monitoring the house while her daddy was out. Maverick chuckled, and I smiled, hoping that any brewing tension had been diffused.
“In fact, I’d love to know why you stopped.”
He dropped onto the deep forest green sectional, letting his head fall back as his eyes closed. I kept petting Malibu as she pressed her head into my hand and her tail thumped on the carpet, watching Maverick from under my lashes.
“Because I didn’t bring you here to pin you against my door.”
“What if I want you to pin me against your door?”
I stood slowly, ignoring the twinge in my knees as I moved toward him, ensuring my hips swayed and my dress clung to my curves. “What if I really love French food but couldn’t get the thought of you out of my head, so I concocted a story to get us out of that restaurant as soon as possible?”
His legs spread as he sat forward, straightening his back and gazing at me with darkened eyes. “Then I’d say I’d met my match, you wily minx.”
“Minx?”
My cheeks flushed scarlet, and I turned away sharply, unable to keep staring into his eyes. I knew my body and my mind well enough to understand what I felt was more than a fleeting itch. This was something sharp, and with teeth. Something that would only deepen with time. The only way for my satisfaction to be sated was to give in to him and whatever this was.
Until I did, there would be nothing but aching emptiness, and his face burned behind my eyelids whenever they closed. No matter how much I tried to talk myself out of going this fast, all thoughts kept circling back to him.
The sharpness of his jaw.
The way his shirt stretched across his chest.
The way his black pants tented in the front, showing just how much this affected him too.
Even now, standing above him and watching, I could feel an echo of his fingers ghosting my body, like a prayer. Or a warning. I’d had partners—lovers—and one terrible casual fling, but I’d never felt with them what I did with Maverick. Could I even be trusted to know what I wanted? Or was this a pathetic attempt to attach myself to someone who looked at me like—
“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” he asked, pushing himself closer before snatching my waist and pulling me between his legs.
“So many things, I hardly know where to begin.”
“Then start with this.” He squeezed my hips with his large hands, kneading the flesh until I groaned. “How does this feel?”
“Good.”
“You can do better than that, woman. How does it feel to have my hands on you?”
