Say You're Mine

by Alexis Winter

I get up to go downstairs, needing to remove myself from Maverick’s presence. I only take a step before he grabs my elbow and spins me around to face him.

  “What did you say?” he asks with a fire in his eyes I think could burn me if I let it.

  “Don’t lie to me?”

  “No. The other thing.”

  “What other thing?”

  “What was the last thing you said to me, Scarlett?”

  “That actions speak louder than words?”

  He loosens his grip on my arm and slides his hand into mine. It’s the most intimate gesture he’s ever made, and while it’s confusing as all hell, I won’t lie—I don’t hate it. I also don’t pull away.

  His hand is rough and callused, but his thumb feels smooth and gentle as he’s rubbing it on the top of my hand.

  “I’m sorry I left, Scarlett. I panicked. I was . . . I wasn’t expecting that.”

  “I don’t think either of us did.”

  He takes my other hand, linking our fingers together. I look up at him and it’s almost too much to see his beautiful face looking at me with . . . I’m not sure what, but this isn’t anger anymore. Or confusion.

  It’s so much more.

  “You know, you’re the second woman to tell me that I should lead with my actions,” he says, letting go of my hands, only to let his fingertips trace up my arm, leaving goosebumps in their path.

  “Maverick?” My question is all but a whisper.

  He doesn’t answer with words.

  His lips are on mine and it’s the best answer I could have received.

  I’ve had my fair share of first kisses. Some have been sweet. Some have been rushed. Some have been sloppy. Some have been nice.

  But this kiss? This is the kiss that puts every other kiss to shame.

  His hands are now threading through my hair—holding my head with a combination of gentleness and possessiveness that I could become addicted to. It’s weird feeling: safe, while also feeling wanton, all within the same touch.

  His tongue sweeps against my lips, and I have no choice but to let him in. His taste is minty and sweet, another thing that could become addictive.

  But isn’t that what Maverick is? A man who is smart, insanely good-looking, and wonderful with my son? You’d be hard-pressed to find a woman in America who wouldn’t pay top dollar for that drug.

  And I have it here. Right now.

  I kiss him back in ways I’d only dreamed of. My hands are around his waist, trying to find the hem of his shirt. I need to touch him. I need to feel his hard muscles against my hands as he continues to explore my mouth.

  His skin is smooth and hard, which only makes me wonder if other parts of him are like that as well.

  “Maverick . . .” This time I say his name as a plea. His lips are now slowly making their way down my neck and across my shoulder, and I don’t think I’ve ever felt something so good in my entire life.

  My hands are now gripping his back, trying to bring him closer to me as he continues to work me over with his lips. Even though he’s only journeyed to three parts of my body, I feel his kisses in every cell. In every pore.

  “I want you.”

  The words leave my mouth without me even asking twice if this is a good idea. It’s not. He’s my roommate. My friend. I have a son to think about.

  But right now, Maverick is making me feel things I’ve never felt before, and he’s not making me beg. He’s not making me plead. He doesn’t have an agenda.

  Instead, he just scoops me up and carries me to his bedroom.

  22

  Maverick

  She feels better than I’d ever imagined.

  Carrying her to my room, with her body pressed against mine and her hands wrapped around my neck, is almost like a dream.

  Except what I’m feeling inside right now is too real to be a dream.

  How was it that just a few hours ago, I was questioning if I even wanted her in my life? At this moment, I can’t imagine her not being here with me, in my bedroom, forever.

  I knew when I pulled into my garage that my decision had been made. That she and Grant were it for me. When I saw her crying, knowing it was because of me, it cut deep. That’s when I knew I’d suffer every pain imaginable to make sure she never cried another tear again.

  So I’m carrying her to my bed—the first woman who will ever share it with me. I’ve never been with Amy here. I’ve never wanted to sleep with any other woman here.

  But with Scarlett I didn’t even have to question it.

  I lay her down, with her hands still reaching for me as I stand up to take off my clothes.

  I’ve always thought Scarlett was a pretty girl. But then I got to know her as a person. As a mother. As a woman.

  Now, looking at her in my bed, with her dark brown hair splayed out across my pillows, I was a fool to think she was anything less than a goddess.

  As I slide my jeans down my legs, her eyes go wide as she sees my cock straining against my briefs.

  “Don’t you worry, pretty girl. Don’t worry about a thing.” I lower myself to the bed and find her lips, because it’s been five minutes since I’ve tasted her and that’s too damn long.

  She wraps her hands around my neck as our kiss goes from slow to hungry in no time at all. The way her body is responding to just my mouth is driving me insane.

  I find the bottom of her shirt and lift it up, breaking the kiss just long enough to help her shed her tank top. The bra she’s wearing probably isn’t what normal society would deem sexy. Just a plain white cotton bra. But to me right now? As her breasts are trying not to spill over the cups as her breathing quickens from my touch? It’s the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.

  “You are so fucking beautiful,” I say as I begin my quest for her chest, needing to put my mouth on her tits. They are full and round and absolutely perfect.

  “Maverick, wait,” she says. “I . . . Can we . . .”

  I stop suddenly. “Whatever you want, pretty girl.” I’ve never meant any words more than those.

  “I’m, well, I’m not . . .”

  “Shh,” I say, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead. “Tell me.”

  “Since I had Grant, I . . . I haven’t been with anyone except . . . and well, my body isn’t . . . I saw what Amy looked like, and I’m not—”

  I silence her with a kiss.

  “Does this feel like I’m not attracted to you?” I rub my hard cock against her thigh, hoping she feels my want.

  “You are beautiful in so many ways,” I continue, placing a kiss on her neck, right at her pulse point. “To me, you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. Your curves and what you might say are imperfections? They’re there because you brought life into this world. You’re sexy as fuck. Do you know how many times I’ve thought about you being here with me? Naked in my bed?”

  Her eyes go wide and she shakes her head.

  “So many that I’ve lost count,” I say as I begin to slowly take off her shorts. “Let me show you.”

  As I kiss my way down to her center, my fingers find her before my lips get there, and shit . . . she’s fucking soaked.

  “I made you this wet?” Her arousal only makes me burn hotter for her.

  “Yes, Maverick. Yes.”

  I slide one finger in, working her as I leave kisses around her thighs, up and across the lower part of her stomach, then back down. I glance up, and the sight of her playing with her tits is enough to make me come in my briefs.

  “Hmm, do you like that, Scarlett?”

  “Yes . . . I’ve never . . . no one has ever . . .”

  Is she meaning to tell me that no man has ever gone down on her? What kind of idiots has she been with?

  “Am I the first man to know what you taste like, Scarlett?”

  She nods her head, and that snaps my last bit of restraint.

  “Let me take care of you, pretty girl.”

  And I do.

  I lick from bottom to top, ending
at her clit and sucking it hard while sliding two fingers into her center. She’s so wet and tight and I don’t know who’s enjoying this more: me or her.

  I want her to. The fact that I’m the first man to ever have her this way is lighting a fire inside me I didn’t know existed. I use my fingers to part her wet folds, allowing me to lick every inch of her glistening pussy.

  “Maverick . . .”

  My name comes out in a moan, which only spurs me on more. My hands find her thighs as I hold out her legs more, spreading her for me in the most perfect way. As I begin kissing and sucking on her, I soon feel her body tighten.

  “Mmm . . . AAHHHHHH!”

  I taste her orgasm on my tongue and it’s everything I wanted it to be. I bring her down slowly, loving how she came apart.

  I strip off my boxer briefs and grab a condom, sheathing myself as Scarlett recovers from the first of multiple orgasms I plan on giving her tonight.

  “Tell me where you want me.” I want to give this woman everything, and I want to know what she wants. Loves. I want to make all of her fantasies come true.

  Because she’s doing that for me right now.

  “Just want you . . . inside me.”

  I stroke my cock a few times—not like I need to, since I’ve been hard for this woman for the past two months. And as I slowly enter her, I can’t help but have one feeling come over me:

  This is home.

  She’s tight. So fucking tight I try to go slowly so she can gradually accommodate my size. But soon, she’s meeting me thrust for thrust, trying to give as much as she’s taking.

  I lie on top of her, with my elbows holding up my weight, so I can claim those lips again. She can likely still taste herself on my tongue, which she doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, she’s grabbing my hair and pulling me closer than I ever thought we could be.

  “More, Maverick. I need more,” she whispers.

  “Anything, Scarlett. Anything.”

  I push myself up—back to my knees—bringing her legs with me as I set them on my shoulders.

  “Holy fuck!” Her words only make me drive in harder, and all I can hear is skin slapping against skin, mixed with our heavy breathing.

  “Are you ready, Scarlett? Are you ready to come with me?”

  “Yes, Maverick, I’m so close . . .”

  With a few more thrusts, she’s grabbing on to my sheets, coming apart for me again.

  And I follow right along with her.

  23

  Scarlett

  In the minutes after Maverick made me see stars, I laid in his bed in blissful ignorance. There was nothing that could take me out of the moment . . . until I heard one word coming from just outside the door.

  “Mama?”

  Oh my God. Grant.

  He was napping downstairs the whole time. How bad of a mother am I that I forgot about my child to have sex? I’m a horrible mother. A horrible person.

  “Coming, buddy!”

  I spring from Maverick’s bed and quickly throw my clothes back on. Thank God we didn’t strip down in the kitchen. That’s something I don’t want to have to explain to my three-year-old. Maverick is still in the bathroom, and I don’t have time to tell him I’m leaving.

  I emerge from Maverick’s room, throwing my recently-fucked hair into a sloppy bun, and see my son standing in the hallway, looking quite confused.

  “I had to ask Maverick a question, buddy. How about we get a snack?”

  “Chips!”

  I scoop my child up in my arms and silently send a “thank you” to whomever is listening that my son is too young to really understand why it’s weird that mommy is coming out of a man’s bedroom. Because I have no idea what I would say to him.

  Maverick made Mommy scream words that aren’t real.

  Maverick’s tongue is magical.

  Maverick is the best sex I’ve ever had in my life.

  Yeah, not exactly a conversation you can have with a toddler.

  I had never been in Maverick’s room. Hell, I’d never been in any room upstairs other than the kitchen and living room. Now I can never go in there again. Because all I’ll think about is that Maverick West was the first man to not only go down on me, but also to give me multiple orgasms. Apparently, Tori and Annabelle weren’t lying when they talked about them.

  Though I can never tell them I know about it now. They would ask questions. And I’m not that good of an actress to say that it was with Ryan or a random guy. So this will stay my little secret.

  Because what just happened in there cannot happen again.

  What was I thinking, allowing myself to get that carried away with him? I’m a mother with a young son. I’m trying to get my life on track to give him the best life I can. I’m living in my friend’s basement because I couldn’t afford to live in my old apartment. I’m in no position to be with anyone.

  Even if it is Maverick.

  I busy myself getting Grant a cup of juice as he begins to nibble on chips when I feel the air shift in the kitchen.

  I know he’s here. I don’t know how close he is to me, but I swear I can feel his breath on my neck. Or maybe that’s because less than 20 minutes ago, he was inside me.

  “Mavwick!” Grant exclaims with a mouth full of chips.

  “Hey, buddy,” Maverick says in his normally chipper tone. I can now feel him behind me—my body suddenly warmer because of his presence. He places a kiss on my shoulder, which I instantly shrug away from, even though it kills me just a little bit.

  Even if I could do this—be with him—it’s too soon. Grant might only be three, but he would definitely notice that Maverick was all of a sudden kissing his mommy. And considering he called him “Dada” today, that’s a one-way ticket for therapy later in life.

  “Here’s your juice, buddy. Maverick, may I talk to you in the living room?”

  He follows me and it takes all of the willpower inside me to move away as he tries to reach for me.

  “Maverick, we can’t do this,” I say.

  “I know. I’m sorry. Please know that I didn’t even think of kissing you on the lips in front of him,” he says, his hands reaching for my waist. “We can sit down and talk to him about us later.”

  I push his hands away. “No, I mean this. That. Us. We can’t do this.”

  He looks confused, like my words came out in another language. “What do you mean we can’t do this? What do you think that just was? Because that wasn’t something random, Scarlett.”

  I step back, needing some space between us since I can still smell the evidence of our sex on him. “That was two people who needed to get their attraction to each other out of their systems. But we can’t do that again. We need to go back to just friends. Roommates. There is no ‘us,’ Maverick.”

  I’ve seen Maverick angry. I saw the looks he gave Ryan when he first arrived, which—if I didn’t know him—would’ve made me cower in terror.

  But this? This look? It’s worse. Because it’s anger laced with hurt.

  The hurt I’m putting there.

  “You think . . . you think after what we just shared that I can go back to how we were before, Scarlett? You have got to be fucking kidding me!”

  “Keep your voice down!” I whisper-yell. “Grant is in the next room.”

  He paces, his hands running through his already disheveled hair. Hair that I made a mess by pulling on it when he was pleasuring me with his mouth.

  “Just tell me,” he starts, but stops, gathering his thoughts. “Why can’t we be an us?”

  I sigh, knowing what needs to be said, but not wanting to say it. “Maverick, you are the best man I know. My son loves you. But from how you’re reacting, and the things you’ve said to me, you want something I can’t give you. I’m not in a place right now to give you that.”

  A tense laugh leaves his mouth, and it almost sounds maniacal coming from him. “Is this because I’m not his father?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “If Ryan came walking throu
gh those doors right now, promising you the world . . . If he promised you the family, the happy ending—what I want to give you—would you go to him?”

  “I don’t . . .”

  “Don’t fucking lie to me, Scarlett. You’re already breaking my heart. Don’t go lying on top of it.”

  He looks so defeated, and I hate that I’m the one making him feel like this.

  “I would. I would do it. For Grant.”

  Maverick takes a deep breath and I know he’s trying to temper his rage.

  “One of these days, Scarlett, you’re going to realize that you could have everything you want. The family. The husband. The partner. The friend. The lover. You could have it all. And I can’t promise I’ll be here when you realize it.”

  And with those words, he walks away—leaving me more confused than ever.

  24

  Maverick

  “I fucking said put it over there,” I direct the punk-ass kid who is trying to set up a bounce house in my backyard.

  “Mav, calm the hell down. You’re going to make him quit,” Kalum says, trying to pull me away from getting in the kid’s face. “And if you think I’m putting up a 20-foot bounce house once he bails, you are out of your goddamn mind.”

  “Well, he should quit,” I say under my breath. “He can’t follow a simple damn instruction.”

  “Sorry, Mr. West. I’ll fix it right away.”

  The kid runs with his tail between his legs. Good. If he’d done it correctly in the first place, I wouldn’t have had to be a dick to him.

  “What the fuck is your problem?” Kalum asks, looking at me like I’ve grown a second head.

  “What the fuck is my problem? I’m trying to make sure this shithead doesn’t put the bounce house in front of the steps so we can’t get in and out. Is that such an insane request?”

  “No, but what’s insane is how you’re acting. What’s up with you, man? You’ve been more of an asshole than ever lately.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” I snap at him, walking away to busy myself with something else for today’s festivities.