Chapter 22

Grace

Two days later and my body was so hot with desire I was worried my skin would combust at the slightest hint of friction. For the past forty-eight hours, Maverick has dominated my thoughts and my dreams, even my fantasies, which I hadn't indulged in since the early days of my relationship with Trent. But this wasn't like that. Oh no, these were purely X-rated fantasies that made me blush and caused me to wake up breathing hard and surrounded by damp sheets.

The way he kissed me and the way his fingers felt buried inside me, pumping in perfect rhythm to pull the most powerful orgasm of my life from my body. It was insane and I wanted more. I wanted everything he said, and I had it.

Damp, no, soaked panties? Check.

Ache between my thighs? Double check.

Dreams about touching and tasting him? Triple check.

Despite the nonstop ache and the constant arousal, I'd mostly kept my distance from Maverick, which was close to impossible when I lived in his home, for a lot of reasons. The main reason was that I was still married in the legal sense, and it just felt wrong, despite the horrible state of my marriage. The other reason was that I was still leaving Steel City. Sure that plan had been delayed because I couldn't focus on anything but Maverick, and because Slate said he hadn't found any trace of Trent's movements during the past three days, which was highly suspicious.

But the fact remained that I was leaving, and I was afraid—terrified, actually—that sleeping with him might put a kink in my plans. I wasn't a virgin, but I wasn't exactly experienced either, and just the kisses and the one orgasm already rocked my world. I couldn't stop thinking about him, and worse, I liked him. Sharing my body with him would make it worse.

The other truth was that I didn't know how to approach him about what I wanted. Yeah, I knew where he was and the ball was in my court, but I couldn't just go to him and say, "Give me that dick."

Could I?

I wasn't sure, but I needed to ease the ache, and he was the only one I wanted, or trusted, to do that.

It was late, past midnight. Dinner was hours ago, and Sophie was fast asleep. The house was quiet, and I let my hand slip under the lightweight sheet and into my panties, finding my core soaked and swollen with desire. This has to be enough. I closed my eyes and there he was, thick red hair and clear blue eyes dark with desire, skimming his hands all over my body, and then his mouth. My hand moved faster and faster over my clit as he peppered my overheated flesh with kisses, licked me between my thighs, and nibbled my nipples. It was the best sex of my life, and it was all in my imagination.

"Maverick," I whispered into the pitch-black silence as my body tensed with an intense orgasm. My body sagged, limp and sated, against the headboard and a small laugh escaped.

"I'm right here." His deep voice came from somewhere behind me.

I let out a small squeak of a scream as I jackknifed up into a sitting position, one hand still in my pants as the other covered my mouth. "Maverick." His name came out on a breathless whisper. "You scared me." The only thing that saved me from complete humiliation was the fact that I couldn't see his face.

"I heard a noise and thought you were having a nightmare, or worse."

This was worse. Much, much worse. "I wasn't."

"Clearly," he responded with humor in his voice. "You feel better now?"

I sighed and fell back against my pillow. "No," I answered in a grumpy tone.

A low laugh fell from his lips. "Yeah, well, welcome to the club." He sounded as upset as I was about it, which made me feel better.

A little.

"The offer still stands, Grace."

I kept my eyes closed and listened to his heavy footfalls disappear down the hall and into his bedroom.

Could I do this? I wanted to, now more than ever.

I sat up and swung my legs around until my feet touched the carpet and stood. Despite the recent orgasm, I was still on fire everywhere and I knew that nothing and no one but Maverick could extinguish it.

I held my breath and put one foot in front of the other, over and over, until the only thing that separated me from what I really wanted was a door.

I raised my fist and knocked.

Here goes nothing.