Page 9 of Maverick (Playing For Keeps #2)

MAVERICK

Reese dropped so fast that his knees thumped against the carpet. He nuzzled into my groin and took a deep breath in, and I groaned, dropping my head against the door.

When I reluctantly agreed to this trip, I didn’t intend on even speaking to Reese much less commanding him to my bedroom and ordering him to his knees. But damn, did he look good there.

It was Quinton who convinced me to come, ensuring me that I’d have my own space as far away from Reese as I wanted.

Unfortunately, the second Reese entered the house, my traitorous heart was like a homing pigeon. After having a few drinks, my inhibitions were lowered, and I couldn’t help myself.

I wanted him. No matter how much I tried to remind myself of how…

broken he made me feel. The only thing I could remember was how his lips felt on mine.

The exact way the tequila would taste so much better off his lips, and how he knew the precise way to bring me to the edge of sanity before completely taking me apart.

Quinton picked up on the tension, whispering in my ear to remember our parameters before he gave us our space. We weren’t exclusive—that much we’d decided on. We’d agreed that if I wanted to date, I was well within my rights to do so.

But did I want to do that with Reese?

Risking a glance down, I almost came on the spot from the sight alone. Moonlight crept through the breaks in the blinds, splaying over Reese’s pale skin and highlighting his bright blue eyes. I licked my lips, savoring the tequila-tinted taste of him.

Now that I was sobering up, however, self-doubt began to creep in. My fingers speared through his hair, massaging his scalp as I debated my next move. It would be nothing for me to order him to swallow my cock and judging by the throbbing from behind my boxer briefs, my dick approved of the idea.

Warm lips against my thigh broke me out of my throughs, and a shudder passed through my body.

“You don’t want to do this do you, Mav?” he whispered, smoothing his palms over my thighs.

The feeling, though soothing, did little to encourage whatever dominant bone in my body I’d found out there on the patio.

“I do,” I husked. “I really do but I can’t let you hurt me again, Reese.”

Again— like I’d ever recovered from the last time.

With one more kiss high on my leg, Reese rose to his feet and wound his arms around my neck. “Mav, I’ll do whatever it takes to prove to you how sorry I am.”

That gave me the courage to try again. I tilted my head, bringing our mouths together in a slower, more languid kiss.

Much better .

Reese’s tongue prodded for entry and the moment I opened up for him, it slipped into my mouth seeming to commit every inch of it to memory.

I fisted his shirt in my hands, tugging to bring him close yet wanting to push him away at the same time.

My head and my heart warred with each other, battling for the upper hand almost as ferociously as my tongue against Reese’s.

He pressed and pried, but I wasn’t about to let him win.

Again .

Breaking away long enough to haul his shirt over his head, I threw the fabric aside and buried my fingers in his hair.

He sighed, opening up for me immediately.

My hips pinned him to the door and—with a fistful of his blond locks in my palm—I tugged, and he submitted.

Whining, he tipped this head back, giving me the leverage to plunge my tongue deep in his mouth.

Things weren’t like this with him before.

Don’t get me wrong: It was always electric. Reese Taylor got under my skin in a way that no one else ever had. But I’d let him have control before, and I’d be damned if I was going to get hurt by doing it again.

“On your knees for me, babe,” I pleaded between feverish kisses. “Please.”

He was on the floor before I could blink.

My head rested against the wood of the closed door, heart pounding with the pulsing bass of the music filtering from downstairs.

Reese panted, needing no more instruction before he tugged my boxer briefs down to my ankles.

I shivered, exposed to the chill of the air-conditioned room, but Reese was quick to suck my cockhead into his hot, wet mouth.

I cried out, hand snapping to his neck to hold him in place although he made no move to pull back.

In fact, he doubled down. I groaned, biting down on my fist to muffle the sound.

Sliding my fingers into his hair, I clenched onto a thick fistful and the resulting whimper that vibrated up my cock nearly unraveled me entirely.

Letting out a deep breath, I forced myself to hold out, even though my orgasm already simmered at the base of my spine. I never could last very long, but I didn’t stand a chance against the one person who knew which buttons to press.

Reese pulled off, ducking to trail a hot path up the underside of my cock.

His tongue dipped into the slit, lapping up as much precome as he could.

He hummed at the taste, immediately diving in for more.

The man needed no guidance, so I slipped into giving him wordless praise.

When he was ready, he dropped his hand and took me to the hilt.

Instinctively, my hand tightened in his hair and I gave a slow, experimental thrust into his mouth.

He didn’t object.

He clenched my ass cheeks, squeezing hard to let me know what to do.

My lungs burned, the thick, heavy air making it difficult to breathe.

Over and over, I sank into that tight suction.

Pleasure licked up my spine, zinging across my skin like uncontrolled flames.

My spine tingled, the knot in my belly wound tight and ready to snap.

Massaging Reese’s scalp, I licked my dry lips, trying to force myself to speak.

“Reese…” I warned. “I’m close.”

He’d never let me come in his mouth—he’d never liked it. Or so he said.

So imagine my surprise when he sucked harder . My hips moved of their own volition, fucking into his mouth at a pace that triggered my orgasm before I could even blink. Reese teased between my legs, rolling my balls in his palm and stretching a curious finger toward my crease.

That was it. I came on a cry, pulsing my release down Reese’s throat. He choked but recovered and swallowed down every drop. Every constriction of his throat worked to drain me dry. Suddenly sensitive, I pushed at his shoulder. “Alright,” I panted. “Good job, babe.”

Reese hummed, using his thumb to wipe off his mouth—and my cock made a feeble attempt to swell again at the sight of him sucking the digit between his lips. “ Shit, that was hot,” he muttered.

I could only offer a grunt in response, still fighting to catch my breath.

After searching the floor for my underwear, I took Reese’s hand and led him to the bed, trying not to let on how severely my legs wobbled.

Collapsing onto the mattress, I tugged Reese between my spread thighs.

Supporting him with one arm around his waist, I reached for his belt—only to have him bat it away. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Are you sure?” Peering up at him through my lashes, he nodded, but he was hiding something. He wouldn’t look at me, and he couldn’t stand still.

Oh…

To test my theory, I cupped a hand between his thighs. He gasped and wriggled, scrabbling at my wrist, his cock too sensitive for the torture. “Mav!”

The wet spot warming my palm confirmed what I’d suspected: He’d come in his pants. “Well, that’s a first,” I muttered, an odd feeling of pride settling in my chest. I’d been the one to do that to him. One more firm squeeze, and I showed him some mercy.

“Asshole,” he huffed, dropping his head to my shoulder.

I couldn’t help but smile, rubbing his back almost out of instinct. “You should clean up.”

In a voice that was a little closer to a whine than a groan, he complained, “I left my stuff in the car.”

I snickered, unable to resist teasing him. “Because you were about to piss your pants?”

“Shut up!”

Rising from the bed, I dug around in my bag and offered him a pair of my sweats. “Wouldn’t be anything I’ve never seen before.”

He accepted the clothes, his “thank you” barely audible.

I didn’t need to see much to imagine the flush that spread across his cheeks. The rosy hue that he very rarely let slip… but I was one of the chosen few who’d ever gotten to witness it. My heart thundered against my ribcage.

With the high from my orgasm fading, I realized how cold the room was, and exhaustion began to sweep over me. I cracked the bedroom door, making sure the coast was clear before Reese darted across to the bathroom to change.

The bed was calling my name. My new one at home was comfortable enough, but it had nothing compared to the one I’d be sleeping in for the weekend.

My muscles seemed to sing with relief as I crawled under the heavy down blanket.

Though as I rolled around to find the right position, it occurred to me that the bed might be too big for one person.

I wondered if Reese had gotten a chance to choose a room.

I wondered if he wanted to share mine.

The thought scared me. Who was I to think that one tipsy, alcohol-induced blow job changed anything about our past?

But that didn’t stop me from wondering. I sat up, wondering what the consequences would be for waiting outside the bathroom and hauling Reese back into bed with me. Would he even want that?

Groaning, I threw myself back down onto the pillows. How was I supposed to do the casual thing with Quinton if I couldn’t get Reese fucking Taylor out of my head?

The door creaked open again and as if he’d heard me thinking about him, Reese stood there.

I didn’t move, only to glance in his direction.

God, I really didn’t need another vision of Reese to haunt my memories.

He was bare from the waist up, wearing nothing but my sweats.

They were too big for him—almost comically so—but it only added to the adorable picture he painted standing in that doorway.

He hovered there almost sheepishly. “Shy” was never a word I’d have used to describe Reese, but it worked on him.

“Quinton?” he asked, glancing at the empty mattress next to me.

“Says he’s not a good sleeper. He didn’t want to keep me up.”

“Can I sleep here?” he asked in a voice so quiet that had I not been paying such close attention, I wouldn’t have heard it.

“Yeah,” I said before I could stop myself. “I guess that’d be okay.”

Reese dropped his clothes to the floor and shuffled across the room, pants hanging low on his hips. He climbed into the bed, stifling a yawn. “That whole ‘rough sleeper’ thing isn’t going to mesh well with your addiction to cuddling.” As he talked, I could see him staring at my chest.

Working a hand under the blanket, I hooked my fingers around the waistband of Reese’s borrowed sweats and tugged him close, snickering at the yelp the move produced from him. He got the hint quickly, but still hesitated. “Are you sure?”

“Mmhmm…”

Truthfully, I needed him to lay down before I started second-guessing myself.

I was already in deep, I knew that, but I at least wanted a little bit of sleep before I had to face the consequences of my actions.

Whatever bug or flu I had was still working its way out of my system and even though I wasn’t sniffly, snotty, and contagious anymore, the long days on the field still drained every bit of spare energy I had.

I sensed Reese about to open his mouth again, so I tugged him down to my chest, combing through his damp hair. Now that he was close, the scent of soap wafted up my nostrils. It wasn’t his usual stuff, but it didn’t smell any less intoxicating.

“Just get some sleep, Reese,” I murmured. “We can talk about it tomorrow.”

Thankfully, he didn’t argue anymore. He rested on me, arm thrown over my stomach and this thumb stroking my ribcage. Slowly, his breathing evened out and he drifted off into a deep sleep, if the soft snoring was anything to go by. The sound had a smile quirking my lip.

I missed him.

His touch, his sounds, his taste . I missed everything about him.

Christ, I was fucked.