by Laura Pavlov
A moan escaped her sweet mouth, and she pressed harder against him. They’d been holding back far too long. He pulled away from her mouth and kissed his way down her neck.
“Maverick,” she whispered, the word a silent plea.
Digging her hands into his hair she pulled him closer. He reached around her back and unsnapped her bra. She arched into him. Hungry and needy.
“So beautiful. Fucking perfect.” He whispered along her neck as both hands cupped her perfect tits. Running his thumbs over her hard peaks, he reveled in the way her body responded to him. Lifting his head from her neck, she pulled him to her mouth again. Kissing him hard, as if her life depended on it.
She continued to grind against him, and he didn’t know how long he could hold on before all hell broke loose. He’d never been so hard, so desperate. He reached down, unbuttoned, and unzipped her jeans. His fingers traced the hem of her panties, in desperate need to touch her. Make her feel good. He slipped his fingers beneath the delicate silk—his head whipped back as a sting settled on his cheek. Startled, he looked down at her. Her hand still in the air from where she’d slapped him.
Slapped him.
What the fuck?
Her hair wild and disheveled. Her gaze filled with desire. Her breath still came fast, and her chest heaved up and down in frantic rhythm. She reached down and buttoned her jeans, adjusted her tank top, turned on her heels, and walked out the door.
He couldn’t even process what just happened. Had he misread her signals? Well, he certainly hadn’t misread his own because he had a painful erection and was in desperate need of relief.
Hell, he’d told her he only wanted her. No one else. Maybe it wasn’t what she wanted to hear. Maybe he’d scared her off? Came on too strong? But she’d pulled him closer, tried to take charge of their kiss—it made no sense. This was exactly why he didn’t do relationships. He didn’t understand this shit. Had no idea what he did to offend her. He’d actually opened up to her, told her how he felt about her. Didn’t he?
He walked in the bathroom and dropped his shorts at the shower door, turning on the cold water. This time she’d have to come to him. He’d put it all out there, and she ran away.
****
He tossed and turned all night and checked his phone no less than twenty times. Nothing. In the morning, Daisy ran over to the guesthouse and continued to bark and scratch at the door to no avail. Her car wasn’t in the driveway. She’d left? She’d fucking gone to the event with Count Asshat.
He’d never been one to pout and sulk. He made shit happen. But here he was. Pouting and sulking like a little bitch. The girl he wanted didn’t want him. And now, she’d ruined him for all other women.
He needed to workout. A kickass, push-till-you-puke workout.
He sent his trainer a text.
—Hey, I know it’s not my day, but can you get me in for a workout?—
He responded less than a minute later.
—Meet me at the gym in an hour.—
Thank fucking Christ. He needed an outlet. He stopped by Mimi’s house to change the batteries in her smoke detectors, and she grilled him about Elle.
“Did she go back to see Edward?”
“To hell if I know, Mimi. You’ll have to ask her yourself.”
“Ah, someone’s in a foul mood.” She smiled, as if she held all life’s secrets under her little housecoat.
“I’ll stop back by later. I’m going to work out.” He kissed her cheek and was out the door.
The gym was seven minutes away, and he turned up the music to distract his thoughts.
No luck. He wondered if it would be awkward now, after he’d dry humped her in his entryway. Maybe she’d quit and never talk to him again. Seemed to be her M.O.
He turned left into his gym. A flash came out of nowhere. A car barreled toward him at full speed. He swerved. His tires screeched. He jerked the wheel to stop skidding. Too late, the car’s rear end fishtailed, and pavement surrounded him, before everything went dark.
Chapter Thirteen
Elle’s Tip of the Day
If you find your prince, don’t let the white horse get away!
She twirled in the mirror, and the lavender gown moved in waves around her legs. She hoped getting all dressed up and ready for the gala would put her in the party mood. Wrong. She didn’t know which way was up right now. And Maverick Wallace was to blame.
My God.
Her cheeks heated every time she thought of the way he’d kissed her. They’d practically had sex in the entryway of his home. She stared long and hard in the mirror, shaking her head. God knows she’d done a whole lot of crazy things in her pageant days. But losing control? Never.
She grabbed the Cosmo magazine on her nightstand and fanned her face. Thinking of the man left her hot and bothered. Hot more than bothered. His mouth owned hers. She squeezed her eyes shut to calm her breathing. Crazier than a sprayed roach. She’d all but stripped him naked right there against the wall. And oh Mylanta, he was hardness at its finest.
Hands over her face, she dropped onto her bed. The man wasn’t even sure he could do a normal relationship, so what had really changed from the first time they met? Thankfully, she came to her senses when he undid her jeans. Would they have had sex in the middle of the foyer? They weren’t even dating. She’d never done anything like that with the men she dated. No. There were rules, and she liked to follow them. Leave the shenanigans in the bedroom, not out in the open like two wild animals.
A loud groan escaped her. She didn’t know how to fix this. She ran away like a chicken fleeing her coop. Her feelings for Maverick were too powerful and out of control. She didn’t want to get used, nor did she want to get hurt. He’d take what he wanted and throw her away, and she’d never be able to look at him again.
Sometimes a woman just needed to get away. Clear her head. And she’d promised to join Edward for the gala this weekend. Maverick had pouted about it all week. The man didn’t want to date her, but he sure as hell didn’t want her to date anyone else. Well, he could sell his crazy somewhere else, because she was all stocked up. Obviously, she wasn’t interested in dating Edward, and maybe a part of her liked making Maverick jealous. She wanted him to want her the way she wanted him. She’d make sure Edward knew they were nothing more than friends, but Maverick didn’t need to know that.
She was startin’ to regret the way she left. She should have at least explained why she needed to get out of there. She’d sent him a text when she arrived in the city, but he hadn’t bothered to respond. Was he mad at her for leaving?
The doorbell rang, and she pushed to her feet. Her strapless lavender gown fit like a glove through the bodice and was long and elegant. She pulled her hair into a loose bun, with some of the waves falling around her face. She dabbed a little pink gloss to her lips and made her way to the door.
“Wow. You look gorgeous, darling,” Edward said, clad in a black tuxedo. The man could dress. His hair was gelled neatly in place. All she could think about was the dark mess of hair her fingers were tangled in last night. The way she’d pulled him closer, desperate for more.
“Are you okay? You look flushed?” he asked, his voice full of concern.
“Oh, yes. I’m sorry. Just been busier than a one-legged cat in a sandbox today.” She hoped he’d buy her lame excuse.
“Well, tonight you can relax. I’ll be at your beck-and-call.”
“Sounds good,” she said, lying through her teeth. She glanced down at her phone, frustrated Maverick still hadn’t replied. How dare he ignore her. The man would have stripped her naked right there in the foyer if she hadn’t stopped things.
Edward escorted her to the car, and his driver pulled from the curb. She sent another quick text to Maverick while Edward spoke to the driver. Even when he’d gone MIA after his nightmare, he still texted her constantly to see where she was. This was out of character. Panic settled in a tight knot in her chest. What if he wanted nothing to do with her now? She couldn�
��t imagine not seeing him every day. Not talking to him every hour. She sent one more text.
—Why are you ignoring me? I thought we were friends—
Traffic backed up on the highway, and they moved at a turtle’s speed. Edward rambled about a business trip to Japan and asked if she wanted to join him.
“I can’t just up and leave work whenever I want.” Her lips pursed, she continued to check her phone for a response every thirty seconds.
“I’m sure you could work your magic with Camille. Hell, if it comes down to it, you can quit your job. Move in with me,” he said.
What the hell? Quit her job? A job she loved, and a career she hoped to build into a business of her own someday. Did the man even know her?
She should give Edward a piece of her mind. Unfortunately, her bat senses were going off elsewhere. Maverick Wallace always responded to her. Something didn’t add up. She didn’t like the way her chest constricted. Her stomach twisted. Something was off. She knew it in her gut. Hell, she knew it in her entire body.
She sent a quick text to Marley. She needed to know he was okay.
—Hey, I’m in the city, but I can’t reach your brother. Just checking to make sure everything is okay—
She met Edward’s curious gaze. “Sorry. There’s some issues with the house.”
“All right. What about Japan?”
“First of all, we aren’t dating, so suggesting we move in together is completely irrational, don’t you think? Secondly, asking me to walk away from a career I’ve worked hard for—well, it’s insulting, Edward.” Her arms crossed in front of her chest.
She stared down at the annoying bubble waiting for Marley’s text. Waiting as if her life depended on it. Maybe it did. Maybe her feelings ran deeper than she wanted to admit. Being away from Maverick made her feel all sorts of needy. She didn’t like it. She wanted to be in Lake Tahoe with him. On the boat. At the house working. At Pete’s. On a run. Anywhere, as long as he was there.
“I’m terribly sorry I offended you. I wanted you to know I’d be happy to take care of you, if you so wished.”
A month ago, this might have sounded chivalrous, although still offensive. But something had shifted. Even her forever fairy-tale picture had changed. She didn’t want this. She didn’t want the Count on a white horse. She wanted the brute, rugged football player who said what he wanted. The man who made her laugh. The man who somehow understood her and liked her anyway. The man who saw her. Really saw her. He may be a bull in a China shop, but she’d ride that bull off into the sunset any chance she got. No pun intended. Even if just for a short time. She missed him.
“I’m not looking to be taken care of, Edward. I can take care of myself.”
She could throw a flaming baton over her head like nobody’s business. She didn’t need a man to take care of her. She needed a man who believed in her. And it wasn’t the man sitting beside her.
“I understand,” he said, stepping out of the car and offering his hand to help her out.
By the grace of God, her phone vibrated. She read the text from Marley.
—Maverick asked me not to text you. He didn’t want you to worry, or to ruin your weekend. He was in a car accident. His car rolled and ended up in a ditch. They said he’s going to be okay. They’re keeping him here as a precaution. I’m at the hospital with my parents and Mimi. I will keep you posted. His phone was smashed in the accident, so text or call me anytime. I’ll keep my phone on. I’m sorry I didn’t call you when it happened. My brother is a stubborn ass sometimes—
Her feet were glued to the pavement. She covered her mouth, barely stifling a gasp.
“Darling, are you okay?” Edward said, crowding her personal space.
Shaking her head, she closed her eyes and fought back tears. She left Maverick last night without an explanation, and now he lay in a hospital bed. She’d left him to go out with her ex-boyfriend. All because she wanted to make him jealous.
Her bottom lip trembled. “No. I’m not okay. Maverick’s been in a car accident. I need to leave. Right now.”
“Is he all right?” If Edward were genuinely concerned, he hid it well.
“I don’t know. His sister said they’re keeping him for observation. I need to get out of here, Edward. Please.” She bent over, placing her hands on her knees, attempting to catch her breath. There was no holding back the tsunami of emotion. Tears streamed down her face.
“Do you have feelings for the man? I thought he was only a client?”
Anger took over. “He’s not just a client. May I please use your driver to take me back to my place?”
“Of course. But be straight with me, Elle. Should I be concerned about your feelings for him?” His gaze locked with hers.
Impatience built. She needed to leave now. She didn’t have time to get into the details of their relationship, but she knew she couldn’t leave without some sort of answer. “Yes.”
Staring down at her, he leaned in the car and asked the driver to take her back to her place.
“Go take care of what you need to. But I’m not giving up so easily. Let me know when you make it to Tahoe safely, please.”
She nodded, slid into the car, and pulled the door closed. Making quick calls to Dani and Peyton, both insisted she call once she started her drive to Tahoe. She phoned Marley to let her know she was on her way. His sister told her they’d been kicked out for the night, as visiting hours were over. She’d deal with it once she got there. One hurdle at a time. Right now, she needed to see him. She didn’t change clothes or stop at her apartment. She jumped in her car and got on the road.
Fear spread through every part of her, and the tears continued to fall.
She needed him to be okay.
Nothing else mattered.
****
Her heels tapped against the laminate flooring in the hospital. The hospital was a ghost town, quiet and eerie at midnight. Marley told her to go to the second floor and wished her luck getting in. Well, she’d be pitchin’ one hell of a hissy fit if they tried to stop her. She glanced in the mirrored wall in the elevator. Her reflection caught her off guard.
Holy hell.
A rejected prom queen stared back at her. She swiped at the mascara beneath her eyes and tucked the loose waves behind her ears. The elevator doors opened, and she sucked in a long breath, ready for battle. Wild horses couldn’t keep her away. She’d made it here, and she wasn’t leaving without seeing him.
The click, click, click of her nude colored stilettos made it impossible to sneak in quietly. The stuffy corridor smelled of bleach and disinfectant. Above the double doors a large blue sign labeled the areas of the hospital. Maverick was just beyond those doors. She pressed the button and the doors swung open, all but inviting her in. Just as relief spread through her body, the hope of getting in without a fight quickly dissolved.
A woman in what looked like her mid-forties, stepped in front of her. Seriously, she may have entered the Twilight Zone because the lady was Nurse Ratched’s doppelganger. Brown shoulder-length hair, resting bitch face, and eyes full of judgment.
“You can’t be in here. Visiting hours ended long ago,” she said in a whisper-shout, arms crossed in front of her light blue scrubs.
“I understand. But this is an emergency. I just drove several hours to get here, and I need to see Maverick Wallace. I’m not leaving until I do,” she said.
Nurse Ratched’s eyes softened, which surprised her. “Well, dear, we really aren’t supposed to let anyone in after hours. Can you come back in the morning?”
Her tears started again, no stopping them now. The dam burst and a tsunami of emotion followed. “Please. You don’t understand. I can’t wait until tomorrow.” She sobbed. “I made a mess of everything, and I just need to see him. You can call security. You can call the police. But they will have to drag my lifeless body out of here because I’m not leaving until you take me to his room.”
She squared her shoulders to let the other woman know she
wasn’t backing down. Her hands fisted at her side before she reached up to swipe the falling tears, as Nurse Ratched quickly looked around to assess the situation.
“No one is calling security or the police, but I do need you to keep your voice down. I don’t want to wake the patients.”
“Peaches?” Maverick’s voice called from two doors down. “Come on, Carla. Do me a solid.”
“Oh, for God’s sake. Follow me. You two are going to wake the whole floor. I swear if Mr. McNichols asks for another sponge bath, I’m having you do it.”
”I’ll do whatever you need, just please let me see him.”
Nurse Ratched led her to Maverick’s room and pushed the door open.
He lay in a hospital bed, vulnerable and helpless, and she could no longer hold back. Sobs and whimpers be dammed. “Oh, my God. Wallace. Are—you okay?”
“Dear, you really need to calm down. He’s fine. We kept him overnight because apparently he’s a very important man in San Francisco,” she said with a wink.
Elle threw her arms around the older woman. Ashamed she ever thought her evil. “Thank you so much. I’ll be quiet. I promise.”
“Peaches, what in the hell are you wearing? Why are you crying?” Maverick pushed to sit up. He thanked Carla, before she pulled the door closed behind her.
Elle rushed to his bed and wrapped her arms around him. “I’m so sorry for leaving the way I did.”
He pulled her beside him on the bed and used his thumbs to wipe the tears still pouring down her cheeks. “You worry too much. Everything’s fine. Coach Romero insisted they keep me as a precaution. I can leave first thing in the morning. Who even told you I was here?”
She placed a hand on each side of his face and shook her head, finally able to speak without sobbing. “You weren’t responding to me, so I texted Marley.”
“Ah. So, you did text me, huh?”
She stroked the hair back from his handsome face. He had a bruise on his forehead, and she lightly traced it with her finger. “I’m sorry for running out on you last night.”
