“But what?” I turned to look at him. His eyes were on me.
My brother. My wonderful, selfless brother’s eyes were smiling right at me.
“You’re far from a kid anymore, Sofia.”
“I know.” I sighed. “I just didn’t know if you knew that,” I added honestly.
“What was that thing Maverick was talking about?”
“What?” I acted oblivious.
“About you thinking you’re in the way.”
“I didn’t think it. I was.”
“Never.”
“Right.” I rolled my eyes.
“Sofi, girl, look at me,” Gabe pleaded, and I looked at him. “After Dad passed—“
“You helped watch me. I know.”
“I did things the wrong way.” He surprised me for the second time in the same day. “You didn’t need me to step in and be bossy. Or a fake dad. You needed me to be your older brother.”
“You were.” I shook my head and let my body melt into his as he hugged me.
“I was. But I shouldn’t have been so hard on you. Or judgmental. I’m sorry. I was an ass.” I sniffled and smiled, resting my head on the side of his shoulder. “I love you, kiddo,” he added as I fought the urge to cry. Instead, I pulled away, wiping my nose and changing the subject.
“How did you know about Mav and me?”
“You two aren’t as stealthy as you guys think,” he enlightened, and I frowned.
“What?”
“All those swoony, love-struck stares you gave one another when you thought no one was looking?”
“Whatever.” I chuckled, hugging him back. “This isn’t going to mess up your friendship with him, right?”
“Nah. As long as he takes care of you and makes you smile,” —he glanced down—“just like that or brighter, I’m good,” he finished, and I sniffled again because I couldn’t help it.
“So, if you are okay with us, why did you hit him?” I asked out of curiosity. Gabe simply shrugged.
“It’s a guy thing,” he shared like that would explain it all. I looked at him, and we both started to laugh.
For once in a very long time, I felt like everything was going to be okay.
Maverick
He knocked on her door, standing in front of her apartment with his other hand hidden behind his back.
He heard her on the other side and fought his heart from jumping out of his chest. Everything he could ever want was behind that door. Everything for his future and beyond was a mere couple of inches away.
Maverick could hear her unlocking the door, and he took a deep breath. He didn’t know why he was nervous, but he tried to relax. He was a grown man of thirty-five, not some shy kid on his first date. He’d already had her countless times, for goodness sakes. But he was standing there, hiding a bouquet of flowers and a box of candy all in one hand behind his back for the first time in his life. Talk about popping my cherry.
The door opened slightly, light filtering through, and the sight of her in front of him reduced him to being speechless.
“Hey,” she whispered, opening the door wider, giving him an even better look of what she was wearing. His Adam’s apple bobbed as his dick fought against the zipper of his pants. He knew the image of her right then and there in a satin and lace nightgown that hit the floor and screamed ‘ravish me’ would be ingrained into his memory for the rest of his life.
“Holy shit,” he whispered. His nose flared as the scent of her sweet perfume wafted up to his nose and all the blood in his body rushed southbound. Shit. She didn’t even have to touch him to rev his engine.
“You like?” she asked, and he growled. He made sure no one was around. He would hate to have to kill anyone who caught a glimpse of his woman like that.
He stepped into her apartment, not missing the way her eyes sparkled with passion and glee as she matched his steps backward. Kicking the door shut behind him, he never took his eyes from her as he locked the door.
“More than you will ever even know.” His voice was low and raspy.
“I just thought since news about you and me is out and we’re kind of official now…” His princess lifted a shoulder and dropped it. He licked his lower lip. Fuck, he had missed her.
“No ‘kind of’ about it, Princess. We are more than official,” he shared. “You’re mine,” he told her. He brought his arm out from behind him. The smile on her face made the drive to the flower shop worthwhile.
Now he got it.
Why men did things like that for women.
“Maverick,” she softly whispered, her eyes on the bouquet of red roses in his hands. He totally got it. She made him feel like a damn superhero. “They’re beautiful.” A wistful smile fell over her face.
He knew he would get her flowers every day for the rest of their lives just to have her look at him like that. Like he was a motherfucking prince.
“I love you, Princess.”
“So you told me… and the entire world.” She laughed, looking up at him beneath her dark lashes.
“I mean it.”
“You sure?”
“I am,” he answered confidently. “I know we did all this ass backwards, Sofia, but I love you. I want you to be mine. My girl. My everything.”
“We just met. How do you know—“
He cut her off. “I just do. When you know, you know.” His hands had a mind of their own and went into her soft hair. “I know you’re the one. I think I knew the moment I saw you.”
“Liar,” she whispered with a smile.
“I might have not known, but my heart knew who you were. I look at you now and…“ Shit. He had it bad. He was waxing poetic. And he fucking liked it.
“What? What do you see, Mav?” she asked. The vulnerability in her eyes made him pull her in closer. Her softness aligned with his hardness.
“I see the woman I’m supposed to spend the rest of my life with. The woman I’m going to marry and have carry my babies.”
“Marriage and babies,” she repeated. “You want that?” There was so much damn hope staring back at him, it left him humbled. Making him feel like the luckiest son of a bitch who ever lived.
“With you,” he answered, their lips centimeters apart. “Only you.” With that, their lips met.
Suddenly, he knew what it was like to be at the start of a fire. The kiss was like gasoline splashing over a fire, as they burst into white hot flames. He lifted her into his arms like a groom carrying his bride. Her arms wrapped around his neck, holding on to him as he took her straight to her bedroom.
Gently placing her back on the floor, he stared at her. His heart thundered, and his skin prickled. Right in front of him stood the woman he would cherish and protect for the rest of his days. This was more than them about to have sex; it was the official start of them. Wordlessly, she let Maverick pull down the straps of her satiny nightgown. Slowly and tenderly, he slipped it from her shoulders, letting the pretty material pool by her feet. He undid his belt, unbuttoning his jeans slowly. Never once did he break their eye contact. Damn, she was perfect. Curves where a real woman should have curves, completely nude and bare for him. When he was fully undressed, he gently picked her back up and softly laid her onto the bed, covering her body with his own.
“Maverick,” she moaned, breaking the heady silence between them as his lips caressed her neck. They explored her body, but her hands tugged on his hair, stopping him from going further. “No teasing. Not right now,” she whimpered, and he brought her hands over her head, their fingers intertwined.
“You think you’re in charge, Princess?” he asked, running his nose against hers. Breathing in the scent of her arousal that clung to the air.
“Please, baby,” she begged, and he relented.
“Okay, but don’t think you can be all cute and beg like that, and I will always give in,” he teased knowing he was full of shit. He didn’t think there was anything he would ever deny his girl.
Aligning their bodies, he slowly slid i
nto her wet, tight channel. Their hands gripped one another as they held on for dear life.
“Shit,” he growled. “You feel better every time.” She squeezed his dick, and he shut his eyes. The sensation of her body was so damn good it almost made him cross eyed. She was tight and warm. He fit perfectly inside her. They were made for one another.
“More,” she panted.
Her lips were on his as he pulled out and slammed right back in, swallowing her moans. Every sound was his. A primal almost caveman like feeling surged through him. He picked up speed, moving his hips, their bodies connected. In sync with one another. Their breathing grew heavier, the air thicker and warmer. The only sounds that filled the room were those of their bodies echoing against her walls. He could feel the way she started to tighten and clench, her body holding on to him tighter, a telltale sign she was close, and he didn’t stop.
He kept going. Rutting in and out, he was losing control, his orgasm on the edge and close. Thankfully, he felt her before he heard her moans of ecstasy as she milked his dick with her tight pussy, and he let his body flow. A roar muffled his hearing as he buried his face into the sweet space of her neck as he poured everything he had into her.
He rolled off her body and pulled her close into him, hiking her leg over his thigh. “Love you, Princess,” he whispered hoarsely against her hair.
“Love you, too, Maverick.”
“Marry me,” he spoke into the silence the moment they had both caught their breath. Her head popped up, her eyes wide on his.
“What?” she asked so damn softly, her eyes so adorably wide, he chuckled.
“Marry me,” he repeated.
“We just got together officially,” she needlessly pointed out.
“Who gives a shit? Make an honest man out of me, Sofia Blanco. Marry me. Let me get you pregnant with my babies, and I promise I will make you happy for the rest of your life.”
“You’re crazy, Maverick.” She giggled, her eyes twinkling.
“Only about you. Always about you.”
“Yes.” She giggled. “Yes!” she said again, more enthusiastically, as she rolled on top of him, holding his face,
“Yes?”
“A million times yes,” she whispered, kissing him with the passion and desire that outdid a five-alarm fire. Her answer made him the happiest sap in the world. “Yes. I’ll marry you, Maverick Bridges.”
He knew by the way her sexy hips pressed against his semi-hard dick, neither of them would be getting any sleep.
He was a lucky bastard.
Epilogue
His fingers worked my pussy hard, and I couldn’t help the moan that escaped from my lips.
“They’re going to hear you,” he whispered. “Do you like the idea of that, Mrs. Bridges?” he asked. The rasp of the scruff on his face drove me insane.
“Mav,” I gasped. He’d been toying with me, edging me for what felt like the longest ten minutes of my life.
“Everyone’s around us,” he reminded me, his voice low and dark and for my ears only, “drinking. Talking. You need to be quiet,” he warned me, and by the hardness I touched when my hand moved to his thigh, I knew this was driving him just as crazy. “You like the idea of someone hearing you come on my hand, Sofia?” he goaded. He knew exactly how much I loved his brand of dirty talk.
“Mav.”
“Tell me, baby… You like that?”
“You know I do,” I admitted, looking over my shoulder. No one was paying any attention to us inside of Hank’s bar. Especially not in the darkened booth we were in.
“Yeah, I do. My dirty little princess likes being naughty, doesn’t she?” he pushed, and I swallowed before biting my lower lip.
“Baby—“ I whimpered.
“I know what you want. I should give it to you, shouldn’t I?”
“Please,” I begged against his lips. Anyone looking at us would think we were having a serious conversation with our faces pressed close.
“Come for me,” he ordered in a deep whisper as he rubbed my clit with just enough pressure to detonate me like a bomb. Hard shudders ran through me, and I rested my forehead on his shoulder. My fingers dug into the back of his neck before I leaned up, his mouth covering mine.
“Fuck.” he grunted. “I don’t know how you do it,” he said, breathing through his nose.
“What?” I rested my forehead on his collarbone.
“Every time I make you come is hotter than the last, babe.” My eyes met his, and I knew he wasn’t lying or blowing smoke up my ass. No way possible with the honesty of his words reflected at me.
“I love you, Mr. Bridges.”
“I love you, Sofia Bridges.”
Two months after we became an official item, we went to Vegas and got married. When we returned, no one seemed to be surprised by this.
A year later, we were pregnant with our son and moving into our first home.
Now, three years later, we’d had another son and were starting to talk about trying for a third. But that hadn’t tampered down the passion between us. Hell, I was almost convinced Maverick loved having me barefoot and pregnant. Things were still as hot as they had been that first night, when a wildfire burst to life in our hearts.
A fire we both knew would never die down.
A fire we would both walk through as long as the other was on the other side.
The End
Sneak Peek
Donut Tucker Out
Chapter One
Kenzie Mason
“You’ve been a very bad, bad girl,” he huskily spoke into my neck, and the goose bumps that covered my skin suddenly had goose bumps. One of his hands wrapped around my waist while the other stroked my arm up and down. Slowly. Deliberately and sweetly torturing my senses as he drove me out of my mind with lust.
“Chase,” I whispered into the silence of his darkened classroom. His nose was in my hair, and I could hear how off his breathing was. All shallow breaths and heavy exhales warmed the back of my head as we stood there. Me facing his desk while his strong, hard—and when I say hard, I mean HARD—body stood behind me.
“Uh uh,” he scolded, and I swear to the buddha, my panties disintegrated. “Bad girl.” He tugged on my hair. “Not using my name.” Shit. Why was that so hot?
“Mr. Tucker,” I moaned and was rewarded with a swipe of his tongue on just the right spot on my neck. The man was a sexual master.
“Much better.” He nipped at my neck. Just a little bite that made me crave so much more. “Now, are you going to take your punishment like a good girl?” he asked and moaned.
Wait.
Rewind.
Hold the phone.
How the hell did I get here, you might ask? Well, it started a week ago. No. Not really. If I had to be honest—and I have found that’s best, not only because I’m a mom and I’m supposed to lead by example, but because lying gives you tons of things to keep track of, and as a divorcee of well, a liar, I honestly didn’t have the time or inclination for lies.
I shouldn’t even be here.
I should be at home.
Like a good mom, working on making some kind of dent on the mountain of laundry I had waiting on the floor of my bathroom while my boys were with their dad and his new wife this weekend. Instead, I was here. Being oh-so bad with my oldest son’s teacher. Right about to, hopefully, get fucked seven ways to Sunday.
All because, like Mr. Tucker said, I was a very naughty girl.
A Week Earlier
“Jim!” I called out and watched my son’s toothy grin as he turned away from his teacher and looked over at me before saying good-bye to Mrs. Peterson.
“Hey, Mom!” my little guy said before giving me a hug.
“Hey, baby. How was your day?” I asked my second grader right after waving good-bye to his teacher.
“Good. Mystie Kendrick got detention for sending notes to her friends,” he shared. For only being a second grader, he had been taking notice a lot lately about everything the new gir
l in his class did.
“Oh.”
“Yeah. Girls, right?” He shook his head, and I stifled a giggle. I wasn’t sure if she annoyed him or if he was having his first crush.
“Girls, sheesh,” I responded with a smile as I held his hand and we walked to the door my oldest came out of. Standing there as Jim talked endlessly about Legos and cartoons and baseball practice, I kept an eye out for Jack.
I spotted him and gave a little wave. He was in fourth grade now, after all. He didn’t need his mommy to do a big to do over the end of his day. At his side walked his classmates and his teacher, this mom’s real life man-candy.
Kids chattered away around me as parents got them and went to their cars, but all I could see was his smile. The easy gait in his step with subtle swagger and the easy way he smiled boyishly. And damn, as if that wasn’t enough, there was the way the man was all put together in dress slacks and a buttoned-up dress shirt with a tie, the sleeves rolled up his muscular forearms that made me want to melt into a puddle at his feet like some googly-eyed school girl with a crush.
Chase Tucker.
Mr. Tucker.
Eye candy and walking mommy porn for every single woman and probably a couple of the men there, too. Tall, built in a way you knew by looking at him he spent time and care on his body, he was the definition of masculinity. And not to mention the deep timbre of his voice and his manly hands that ran through soft, closely-cropped brown hair I swear to god shined under the California almost summer sun.
“Hey, Mom!”
“Hey Jack.” I was slightly caught off guard by the way he hugged me, but I quickly reacted and squeezed him back. “Good day?”
“The best! Mr. Tucker rocks!”
“I don’t know about all that,” a deep voice chuckled, startling me as I looked up at him, wide-eyed and bushy-tailed.
“Hi, Mr. Tucker.”
“Call me Chase, Kenzie. I’ve told you before. Being called Mr. Tucker by my students is one thing, by their parents, it just makes me feel old.” He smiled.
“You’re not old,” I mumbled quickly.
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