Maverick by Ashers, LeAnn (classic books to read TXT) 📗

“Get used to it, honey. I have a lot of years to make up for,” he says so easily, taking a bite of his food and turning on the TV.

He says this in such a simple way, but to me it’s the opposite. I try to wrap my head around him.

He just seems perfect.

“What’s your favorite movie?” he asks me, flipping through Netflix.

I shrug. “I’m not sure. I’ve not really seen much TV until the last few months when I moved here,” I confess.

He looks at me, shocked. “Fuck, we’ll start with Yellowstone.” He smirks and turns on the first episode.

I set my empty plate onto the small coffee table in front of me. He turns down the lights so we can see the TV better.

“Get your ass over here, darlin’. I can’t fucking hold you way over there,” he jokes, and I laugh, scooting over until my head is on his chest.

I close my eyes, just enjoying the way he feels for a few seconds.

“Right where you fucking belong,” he says under his breath, but I hear him. I stop breathing for a second, and he pulls the blanket up on my shoulder to keep me warm.

Thirty minutes into the show, I try to hide my reaction to every time Rip comes onto the screen because he looks quite a bit like Maverick.

Rip comes onto the screen again and Maverick is shaking under me with laughter. “Darlin’, do you have a crush on him?” he teases.

I sit up, looking at him, my face burning. “What? No!” I deny, but my face grows warmer knowing I’m lying.

He laughs at the look on my face, “Baby, do I need to track this fucker down and beat his ass?” He arches an eyebrow and I think he’s actually serious.

“Well…he is pretty cute.” I throw caution to the wind and look at the TV wistfully.

“Ohh, you’re in trouble now,” he warns before he pushes me back against the couch, kissing me deeply.

Rip who?

His hand cups my face, kissing me so deeply, so passionately I can’t even move.

He pulls back slightly, running his tongue across my bottom lip before he kisses the part where my neck meets my shoulder.

I almost jump out of my skin, but I’m so turned on. I grip the back of his shirt.

“Rip who?” I whisper, my voice rough.

He snorts and face plants into my chest, laughing, “That’s right, angel. Rip fucking who.”

I wrap my arms around his neck and open my legs so he can lie completely on top of me.

My fingers bury into his hair, dragging my nails slightly across his scalp and the back of his neck.

“I think this is fucking heaven,” he mumbles, and I smile at his cussing.

My eyes drift closed, snuggling into the couch and yawning.

Maverick

I know she’s asleep the second her hand stills in my hair. I don't want to fucking move. I don’t want her to leave, but I won’t let her stay all night if she isn’t okay with it.

I sit up, gently touching her cheek. “Darlin’,” I whisper, trying not to scare her.

Her eyes drift open. She smiles the second she sees me. I don’t know what the fuck I did to deserve her.

“Want to stay all night? You can sleep with me in my bed or the guest room. I won’t touch you, angel, unless you beg for it.” I throw in the last part and she laughs, rolling her eyes.

“I think I’ll stay.”

Fuck yeah.

I sit up and pull her with me. “You better tell your daughters that you’re staying.”

“Good idea.”

I help her off the couch. She smiles and walks inside of the house where her phone is.

I rub my chest. I’m so fucking gone for her and I just met her. So fucking gone.

Bell

I call my daughters telling them it’s too late to come home and that I’m staying here. They’re more than excited for me.

I almost drop my phone when River yells way too loud about using condoms.

I take my phone upstairs with me, following Maverick up.

My heart is racing. Do I want to sleep in the guest room by myself or do I want to take a chance and sleep cuddled up to Maverick?

The latter sounds better by a landslide.

He stops right outside of his door. “So, guest room?” He nods to the door next door to him.

I shake my head. “I think you holding me all night sounds amazing right now.”

He closes his eyes, shaking his head. “You fucking make me feel some type of way, Isabella.” He reaches out and takes my hand, pulling me to him. “Some fucking type of way,” he whispers before kissing me. I close my eyes in pleasure.

Me too, Maverick. Me too.

I stand up on my tippy-toes, wrapping my arms around his neck, pulling him even closer.

He leans down, wrapping an arm around my waist, lifting me off the ground. My legs wrap around his waist without a second thought, and he walks backwards into his room.

He sits back onto the bed, my legs on either side of him. I tilt my hips, gasping into his mouth when I feel him hard under me.

I try not to tilt my hips the way I want to. His hands drift up my back under my shirt and I shiver hard.

I gather every bit of strength I have and pull away. I hope he won’t be angry with me.

He stands with me in his arms, walking around the bed and pulling back the blankets, lying down with me still attached to him.

I love how he can carry me around.

He turns on the TV so there’s background noise, and the lights blink off, leaving us in darkness except for the light from the TV.

“Thank you for being kind to me,” I whisper, breaking the silence.

I’m moved onto my back, Maverick’s arms on either side of my face. I can barely make out his face in the darkness in the room.

“Darlin’, it breaks my fucking heart that you