Turbulent Desires(23)

"The lights!" she cried out.

"I want to see you, sugar," he said as he undid the zipper.

"No! Please, turn out the lights. I have scars . . ." She trailed off and he knew this was a battle for another time.

"Sugar, everything about you is beautiful, absolutely stunning. But I  can look at you later. For now, I'll just memorize your body with my  fingers," he said.         

     



 

Not wanting to take too much time, he jumped up and shut off the lights, then quickly rejoined her on the bed.

She sighed as he pulled her into his arms and kissed her again while his  fingers pinched and teased her nipples. When she was wiggling beneath  him, panting, he moved down the bed and finished removing her pants and  panties in one quick motion.

How he wanted to see her, but it wasn't about him, it was about her.

Kissing the smooth skin of her stomach, he took his time, making his way  to the sweet center of her. Spreading her thighs, he rested between  them before he finally found her core.

Her sweet scent caused his head to spin as he laid a gentle kiss against  her smooth folds. Her body jerked off the bed as his tongue ran up and  down, lapping her juices and sucking on her tender bud.

"Mmm, you are perfection," he growled, barely able to maintain his control.

Spreading her wide open, he devoured her. The cries escaping her as she  thrashed against the bed only made him go faster as he pushed his tongue  deeper inside her. When he fastened onto her swollen flesh and thrust  two fingers inside her, she cried out as she began shaking and clenching  at the same time.

He slowed his tongue as he lapped at her until the final throes of  pleasure faded and she sank onto the bed, breathing heavily. Only then  did he crawl back up her body and pull her against him, rubbing the back  of her head while she shook in his arms.

"Maverick . . ."

"Shh. It's okay, sug." He kissed her forehead and held her. His body was  on fire, but he didn't care. All he cared about at this moment was her  happiness, her trust, and her pleasure.

"But . . . don't you want to . . . you know?" The frightened timbre in  her voice told him he was doing the right thing by waiting.

"More than you can imagine, sugar. I hurt," he said as he gently took  her hand and placed it over his pants where his pulsing erection was  practically ripping the material open.

"You can," she whispered as she squeezed him the tiniest bit. He might  just do it right in his pants if she moved her fingers the slightest bit  more.

He took her hand away. "No. I made a promise to you tonight. I wanted to give this to you."

"But it's wrong," she said.

He pulled back and twisted over so he could turn on her bedside lamp.  She screeched a bit and grabbed the blanket, pulling it over her. He  didn't try to stop her, but he wanted her to see his face as he spoke.

"It is never okay for a person to owe sex to another. People make love  because they need each other, they can't breathe without the other  person-without being buried deep inside them. You don't owe me sex, just  like I wouldn't owe you if I didn't want to give it. I wanted to give  you, and only you, pleasure tonight. And knowing that I did is better  than any orgasm."

Her eyes widened as she looked at him, but he saw the appreciation in  her eyes. Though he was certainly going to pay for his altruism, it was  well worth it to see trust coming back to her.

He kissed her and then stood.

"What about dessert?" she asked as he moved toward the door.

She sat up with the blanket clutched tightly to her. He looked at her as  if he could see through the thing. He almost could. He licked his lips  as he smiled at her.

"Oh, baby, I had dessert." Her cheeks flushed.

"Can . . . can you hold me?"

The trust and vulnerability in her eyes shook him to the core. Without  hesitation, he moved back to her and climbed on top of the covers. He  felt a strange stinging sensation against his own eyes when she curled  against him, her delicate fingers resting on top of the blankets where  his heart thundered.

"Thank you, Mav," she told him, her voice growing sleepy as she snuggled safely against his side.

"Anytime, sug," he whispered as his fingers wound in her silky hair.

Lying there caressing her, Mav focused on her breathing. He didn't move  so much as a muscle over the next hour as she drifted off to sleep. He  didn't want to move, didn't want this moment to end, but his body was  still pulsing and she hadn't invited him to stay the night.

If he fell asleep and she woke next to him, he might betray that fragile  thread of trust he'd built within her. He wasn't willing to bet their  relationship on it.

When he was sure he wouldn't disturb her, he untangled himself from her  arms and stood up, gazing down at her delicate face as she frowned in  her sleep, her hand reaching out toward him-or at least that's what he  chose to believe she was doing.

She needed him, especially when she let down her guard. They needed each  other. He couldn't stay any longer or he might not find the will to  leave.         

     



 

With hesitation, he walked from the room and straight out her front  door, making sure it was securely locked behind him. He had his shirt  and pants off by the time he reached the beach. He left them on the sand  and didn't stop running until he was diving into the freezing cold  water. It took a good ten minutes in the Pacific before his hardness  began going away. Mav had a feeling it wasn't going to end even after he  took her again.

He was that infatuated with the woman.

The obsession with her would pass when their time together ended, he  assured himself as he climbed from the water, his skin covered in goose  bumps. But as he walked past her place to his truck, just the thought of  her lying naked in her bed had him sweating and hard all over again.

This might not pass so easily after all. She might just be the one woman in the world he refused to ever let go.





CHAPTER TWENTY

Lindsey woke up with Princess's cold nose in her face telling her it was  time to get up and take her outside. She'd woken up to find her bed  empty and then she'd wanted Princess-needed the dog. Even after the  incredible pleasure Mav had shown her, she still hadn't been able to  sleep without either him or the puppy there.

She'd grown attached to her dog in only a few days' time, so much so  that she couldn't even sleep without her now. As soon as she'd called  the house, Stormy had walked outside with Princess, who'd run straight  to Lindsey.

Lindsey had brought her inside and the two had fallen into a dead sleep.  Now it was time to get up. After taking Princess out and feeding her,  Lindsey showered and got dressed, all the while waiting for  embarrassment to hit, or fear.

She'd nearly made love to Maverick the night before. A few weeks ago she  had thought she would never let a man touch her again. Then she was  crying out in pleasure as Mav had worshiped her with his tongue and  hands.

But as she made breakfast, feeling ravenously hungry, the guilt and fear  never came. All she felt was sweet satisfaction. Was it because she had  nothing to fear with Maverick? Was it because she was selfish? He'd  walked away, getting nothing from the experience, while she'd had the  best sexual encounter of her life, or one of the best. Her time with him  at Stormy's wedding had been just as earth shattering.

It was all so confusing.

When his call came during the middle of her musings, a grin spread  across her lips as she looked at the caller ID. There was no hesitation  in answering.

"Good morning, sug. How did you sleep?"

The soft growl of his voice was a perfect way to start her day, but  Lindsey didn't want to get too attached to it. She knew this was  temporary. What she hoped was that the reprieve she was feeling while  she was with him would last long after he was gone.

"I slept pretty dang well, actually. You?" she replied.

"My dreams were filled with you so I would say that's a good night."

"You flirt more than any other man I've ever known," she said with a chuckle.

He growled into the phone, which seemed strange.

"Don't even think of what other men have done with you while we're  talking," he told her, a teasing edge to his tone. The tiny hint of  seriousness scared her. She had to be imagining that, or wanting it to  be the case.

A jealous man was a man who wanted a woman all to himself. Maverick  obviously wasn't a one-woman kind of man. But it sure would be amazing  if he were hers, even if only for a few weeks. She wouldn't ask him if  he was, though. That would break this spell they were under.

"What are your plans today?" he asked when she was quiet for several seconds. His voice was immediately back to relaxed.

"I'm not sure yet. My mom has left five messages in two days, so I'm thinking I should probably call her back," she told him.

"Yes, family is very important," he said with a sigh.

"What's the sigh all about?"

"I just heard some stuff about my brother the other night, and it's been bothering me. I miss the little punk," he told her.