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And I feel like the light in my lamp is going to flicker off when I go back to where I used to live. And maybe, who I used to be. . . .

No, I am not her anymore. Not after this trip, this summer. Not after this man.

He moves his arms, and with our hands linked above my head, he keeps driving inside me, his skill delicious and smooth, but strong. Eyes on mine, he teases me with his lips, and he eases back to keep watching me as he takes me to the heights of pleasure, before teasing his lips across mine again.

“God, to have you like this every night . . . soft and wet and undone for me, Reese . . .”

His pace quickens, slamming harder, our hands clenched tight; I moan, arching and writhing, feeling him inside me, every stroke, every plunge maddening me. My nerve endings crackling. Hungrier than ever. Needing him more than ever. Closer and closer to my climax, his harsh groan running over my skin. Then we tense, together. My head tosses aside, the pleasure going on forever. He lets out a growl, then he slams his lips to mine as we’re both coming.

♥ ♥ ♥

I’M IN HIS arms, needing to go. I’m buzzing. My body and I content with each other.

“So why didn’t you cash your penny in before?” He smirks at me and lifts his brows as he smooths his thumbs down the bridge of my nose, one after the other. “You could’ve asked for anything. Didn’t I say you could?”

“I don’t know. I couldn’t let it go. I had you with me.” I see it in his palm and try to snatch it back up, and he squeezes his palm shut.

“Uh-uh.” He shakes his head. “Earn it.”

“Come on. Be gentlemanly.”

“Earn it.”

I laugh and playfully slap his shoulder, and his eyes dance; I can tell he loves my teasing slaps and that it doesn’t hurt him one bit.

He falls sober the next moment.

“Sorry about Racer. You love the little guy,” he says then, setting the penny aside.

“Very much. He was mad at me after a while and didn’t want to be with me. I felt like shit. So rejected.”

He kisses me. “You lose some, you win some.”

I grab his head and kiss him. “I need to go.”

He glances at the clock. “Yeah, I need to train.” He flops to his back and exhales happily.

I do the same. “People in love mimic each other, did you know? I read that somewhere. One grabs their hair and the other unconsciously does that.”

“When you grab your hair, makes me want to grab your hair too, not grab mine.”

I laugh and cuddle a little. “You’re funny.”

“No.” He sounds grumpy now.

“You have a sense of humor.”

“I’m just happy right now.”

“Really?” I ask, raising my brows.

He raises his pointedly. “Really.”

“See! You just lifted your brows like me.”

He groans and shakes his head. “Don’t even, Reese. I’m not a couple-y kind of guy. I don’t do costumes and I definitely don’t do matching costumes and I don’t do anything other people do.”

“That’s fine. Just do me.”

He smacks my butt as I get out of bed and squeezes it and pulls me down and kisses me. “You’re out of control, girl. Someone needs to keep an eye on you twenty-four/seven. I volunteer.”

I kiss him again, then I slap his chest playfully. “I’m going now,” I warn.

He sits up too and strokes my hair, then lowers me to his knee and looks down at my nipples and plays with them. “I’m going for a run with Tate today. I’m going to tell him about us. I want this out in the open.”

Butterflies wake up vigorously in my stomach. “Okay.”

He looks up at me meaningfully. “I want to take you to dinner tomorrow, after the semifinals.”

“Ummm.” Shit. I twist my mouth to the side as I think about how to phrase it. “Maverick, I wanted to talk to you about that. You see . . . tomorrow Miles is in town, and my other friends. I’m supposed to meet up with them once Brooke gets back from the fight.”

His eyebrows shoot up, then he narrows his eyes. “You want me to hang back while you go frolicking with Miles?”

I slap his thigh playfully. “Yes, because he’s just a friend. He’s always been just a friend. I thought . . .” I shake my head. “Maverick, I didn’t know the real thing.”

He narrows his eyes even more.

But, I admit, the possessive look I see there thrills me a little.

No, a lot.

Maverick not only looks possessive, but he sounds possessive too. “You’ll go out with them after the fight, but you won’t come to watch my fight? Reese?” he says, frowning and cupping my breast again, as if to remind me who makes me moan.

I drop on the bed, tug the sheet up, and playfully hide my breasts from him. “You said you didn’t want me there because I’d fuck with your head.”

He tugs the sheet back down to look at me, then he rubs my breast tips with the pads of his thumbs. “I said that before. Before I wanted you so badly on my side.”

My eyes close.

“What? No slap?” he teases.

I slap his shoulder, then set my hand there, possessively too. I squeeze his hard arm, with meaning, though it hardly budges at all.

“I’ll meet my friends tomorrow. And I’ll find a way to make it to the championship match. To see you.” I get up then and wait for his answer.

He nods at that, slowly, his gaze a little threatening. “Just remember.” He cups my butt as he stands and gently bites the top of my ear. “This ass is mine.”