“Freaking insanely awesome. AHHHHHHHHHHHH!” It’s contagious. I laugh so hard that I don’t know if I’ll ever stop. A few pulls on the handles and we’re spinning around in circles that make my stomach drop.
“We’ll get down quicker this way,” he explains.
The scenery is unreal—so beautiful from the vantage point at the top of the world. We are so small. The ground moves toward us fast now. I don’t realize how quickly we’re dropping until I see trees get larger.
“I want to stay up here as long as possible,” I say, reaching back to grab on to his leg with one hand. I lean my head back and rest it on his chest.
“Remember to bend your legs when we land,” he says. I do and we’re on the ground in a perfect landing in a large open field. In another moment, he is unclasping the parachute from his back and detaching my harness.
I’m still breathing hard and the adrenaline I feel is buzzing so wildly that I think I may pass out or scream again. Maverick turns me around to face him. His one-dimpled smile is out to play. His brown hair is air tousled. He looks more amazing than I ever remember him looking. He’s in his element. This is the real Maverick.
I prop my hands on my hips, but he pulls me against his chest in a quick jerk. “I should have done this weeks ago. Now, I can’t wait another second.” Cradling my head in his hands he smashes our lips together. He bends down and scoops me up. I wrap my legs around his waist without removing my mouth from his. His tongue is soft as he pushes it into my mouth with skilled flicks and twirls. Mint flavor hits me, mingling with his cologne and I think I might devour him forever. And ever. And ever.
I wrap my hands around his neck and pull his head toward me until our teeth click together. The sound makes him groan and clutch my ass tighter to him. His fingers splay on the edge of my shorts. It annoys me that my clothes have the audacity to stop this man from touching every inch of me. When Maverick bites my bottom lip, I shut my eyes and gasp. I love how sweet gentleness laces his roughness. I turn my head so my lip breaks free. Bringing my lips to his neck, I lick the frog tattoo that peeks out of his t-shirt. I drag my mouth up to his ear, and then very slowly along his scruffy jawline. His stubble tickles my tongue.
“Smile,” I order, looking directly into hisfuck meeyes. He knows exactly what I want, becausethatsmile breaks across his face. Dimples. I shut my eyes and my tongue finds one of those sweet little dips all on its own.
Maverick loosens his grip on my ass so I slide down his body. He presses my sex against the bulge in his pants. It is so freaking hard and so large, I can’t ignore it. I circle my hips, grinding against him, feeling him where I want him so badly. A growl that seems to rip from his chest echoes in the wide-open air around us. His noise of raw need makes my pulse speed. He traces the curve of my lips with the tip of his tongue before plunging it back into my mouth. Claiming my mouth like no one else has. This man is owning me. And I want it so badly that I’ll let him own me in every way possible in the middle of a field.
He smiles against my lips. It forces me to open my eyes. “This is even better than jumping out of airplanes,” he says, his voice so low, I’m so freaking turned on that my hips automatically rock against him again.
I smile against his smile. “This is better than anything else, Maverick.” I say his name in a sexed up tone and drag my tongue over his other dimple. He sighs loudly. “It’s way better than awkward hugging, isn’t it?”
He draws back, his lips pink and swollen from kissing. He shakes his head a few times as he just stares at my face. “You,” is all he says. I know he’s looking at my eyes and lips. It’s a back and forth game.
“You,” I say back, as I watch something flicker in his eyes. “That was some record breaking first kiss.”
A cocky grin plays on his wet mouth. “I only do record breaking, Win. One word,” he says.
I bite my lip, which now feels a little swollen from his teeth. A shiver of delight runs up my spine at the use of my nickname. It sounds so much better coming out of his mouth.
“Amazing,” I say, but his lips descend back to mine before I can ask him for his one word. He brings us to the ground and we make-out like teenagers in a field for a long time. He doesn’t let it go further even though I think I beg him once or twice.
I may have had reservations about the type of person he was when we first met, but the person who is with me today isn’t that guy. This Maverick Hart is sweet, compelling, fifty shades of hot, and so into me. He is amazing. I’ve trusted him with my life today, and with that came a tiny piece of my heart.
Chapter Eight
Maverick
I pull off the sand colored headphones that act as ear protection. “Nice fucking shot, dude,” Stone says. Two shots in the heart. One in the head. The perfect combo. Stone’s a better shot, but I’d rather stick my dick in flames than admit it.
We’re at the range shooting paper terrorists and zombies. My favorite target practice is steel targets, but today the guys had other ideas. I love shooting at the range. It’s one of the few times when my head clears completely. I can think only about my forefinger hovering over the trigger and the solid, cool weight in my hand. The best shots are always when you don’t over think it. You just let your body do what it’s done a million times before. Pure instinct.
I ignore Stone and Steve’s loud ass conversation about which bad guy the holey cut-out looks more like. I sit on a bench and start taking my gun apart to clean it. The focus and concentration are gone so my mind switches back on. I think of Windsor. An instinct of a different kind leads me to walk to the one fucking corner in this whole building that gets cell phone service.
I can’t wait to see you tonight.I send off the text message half hoping she’s busy and won’t respond right away. If Steve realizes I’m texting a chick right now he’ll bust my balls for days.
“Fine. We’ll just agree it looks like Hilary Clinton and be done with this shit,” Steve chortles as they walk over to me. “What is Maverick the Pussinator’s opinion?”
I laugh. “Yep. For sure,” I reply. I know the second Stone’s gaze lands on the phone I’m trying to hide in my palm. He smirks. Then he looks at Steve. Fuck.
“Who you talkin’ to, Mavvy?” Stone starts rattling off every girl name in the history of girl names…with a Boston accent. I start walking toward the high bay, knowing full well he will follow me all the way there, and possibly for the rest of the day. We enter the huge open, empty room just as Steve figures it out.
“Are you still talking to that chick? The same one from forever ago?” To him a month is a long ass time. Until recently it was a long time for me too. Now every day doesn’t seem long enough. “Please tell me I’m wrong, dude. You can’t seriously be banging the same chick. If you are there isn’t any hope for the rest of us.”
I slump down on the worn leather couch, and Stone and Steve head to the bar. Yes, we have a bar at work. Multiple ones, actually. I just need to fucking say it and stop being such a pussy. Then the questions will stop and no one will think twice about my weird ass schedule. Stone thrusts a Solo cup into my hand, his back to Steve, and nods. He fucking knows and he’s trying to make me admit it—either to myself or to the high bay full of plaques and photos of our fallen brothers. There’s only three of us, but it feels like all eyes are on me.
I take a sip of my drink. “I’m inviting Windsor to my house,” I admit. I don’t need to say anymore. They both know exactly what that means, or what it doesn’t mean. Stone specifically is probably choking on his fucking tongue right now.
