His back is to me, but the gray tank he’s wearing still makes me want to bite my lip. The way it clings to his muscular back and displays his ink and strong arms is making me wish I’d put on my panties with the slippery situation happening between my legs.
He turns, seeing me, and the tiny smile on his face morphs into something else when he takes in my outfit.
“Holy hell,” he grounds out, crossing the space that separates us in just a few steps. His hand catches the hem of his shirt, and using it, he tugs me closer. “Morning, Specs.”
His reaction to seeing me goes a long way to dispelling the insidious thoughts I had when I woke up alone. Feeling bold, I loop my arms around his neck, making the shirt ride even higher. And of course, that drags his hand that’s still clutching the shirt up my bare legs.
“Morning,” I whisper, going to lean in for a kiss when I suddenly remember something. “Oh crap. Morning breath.” I clap my hand over my mouth and snap my head back. But Maverick’s free hand lands on my throat and he’s then he’s kissing me, his tongue plunging into my mouth, without a care for fuzzy teeth or stinky breath.
When we finally break apart, I’m panting heavily, and that tiny smile is a full-on satisfied smirk.
“If you’re gonna worry about something stupid like morning breath, don’t go walking around in nothing but my shirt.”
His hand squeezes my bare ass to emphasize his point and I let out an undignified squeak.
“It was the first thing I could find to put on!”
“Did I say I was complaining?”
I can feel the heat turning my cheeks red. And against my better judgment, I blurt out, “Dirk wouldn’t let me kiss him until I’d brushed my teeth. I guess old habits and all that.”
His smirk is gone, replaced by a scowl. “Don’t mention that shitstain’s name when you’re wearing my clothes and looking well fucked.”
Did my knees just wobble? They might have. Because that was hands down the hottest thing anyone has said to me. Ever.
“You want breakfast? I just had omelets with my neighbor, it’s what we do every Saturday. But I can make you one.”
The abrupt change in both subject and tone has me giving my head a slight shake.
“Wait. You have omelets with your neighbor every Saturday?” I ask.
Maverick shifts to lean against the counter, letting his hands fall from my body. “Yeah. He’s in his seventies, doesn’t get out much. But he looks after Cat when I travel. We have a standing breakfast date every weekend I’m in town.”
He sounds almost bashful admitting this to me, and I feel like I’ve been given an exclusive peek behind the heavy curtain of privacy Maverick keeps wrapped around his entire personal life.
“That’s lovely,” I say, smiling. “And I would love an omelet.” That earns me another small smile before he turns and starts doing something with the items I am only just realizing are on the counter beside him.
“Coffee?” he asks over his shoulder as he chops up a green pepper. “I’ve already had one with Ralph but could use another if you wanted some.”
“I’m on it,” I reply, moving to grab the coffee pot. The sink is right next to where he’s working, and when I come up beside him to fill the carafe with water, his lips land on the top of my head. It’s so sweet, so domestic, sounexpected, I have to hide my grin of surprise. Is this another side of Maverick no one else gets to see? The side that has breakfast with an elderly neighbor, takes in stray cats, and kisses the top of my head just because I’m near him?
Because if it is, I’m here for it. All of it.
I get the coffee going, then quickly go to pull on some underwear. While I’m in the bedroom, I have a brief debate with myself. Should I get dressed, or should I stay in just his shirt? In the end, the way he responded to seeing me in his clothes has me feeling so good, I decide to stay like this with the only addition being a pair of panties. There’s something about eating breakfast bare-assed that I can’t quite make myself do.
Ducking into the bathroom, I muffle my shriek of dismay at what I see in the mirror. How in the hell did he not run for the hills when he saw me?
My makeup from last night is smeared under my eyes, my hair is a rat’s nest. Good Lord. I brush my teeth, scrub my face clean, and attempt to run a brush through my hair. As I’m working the last tangle free, Maverick appears in the reflection, leaning against the door frame of the bathroom.
“Breakfast is ready,” he says, not even bothering to hide the way he drags his gaze up and down my body. I stare at himthrough the mirror until his eyes meet mine. He breaks first, turning without another word and walking back to the kitchen. With one final check that I no longer look like the worst morning after possible, I follow after him into the kitchen that now boasts the aroma of fresh coffee and a savoury breakfast.
My stomach lets out a loud rumble and my arms immediately wrap around it, as if I could muffle the sound.
But Maverick just chuckles. “Guess you worked up an appetite last night.” He shoots me a wink, then gestures to the bar-height counter where two plates of food sit.
“I thought you already ate?” I ask as I lift myself onto one of the stools. He takes the other.
“Yeah, but I’m always hungry. Figured I’d keep you company.”
