He pushes from his spot with a shove against the hold he had on the doorknob and frame. I don’t even have a second to pull a full breath into my body before it’s knocked right out by the force of his large frame colliding against mine.
One large hand pushes into my hair to hold my head where he wants it, the other hits me right on the ass, flexing. His mouth crashes against mine in a bruising kiss. I can’t get close enough to him. My hands push up and under the unbuttoned shirt. I drag my nails up his cotton-covered chest and around his neck. With little effort and one hand, he pulls me up his body until my legs are locked behind his hips.
He doesn’t move from our spot in the middle of my bedroom. He just continues to kiss me with so much power that I’m half convinced I might melt right here in his arms. It’s the most intense, insane kiss I’ve ever experienced.
When he pulls back, long minutes after he took me in his arms, I’m drunk with pleasure and half a rub against the bulge pressing against my jean-covered center away from coming. His hooded eyes looking deep within mine while pressing his forehead against mine.
“Not until I have your heart, baby.”
With that, he presses his lips back to mine briefly before helping me detach myself from his body. No words are spoken, but the expression on his face is full of carnal desire. There’s no doubt in my mind that by walking away and denying himself what we both want that it’s costing him greatly.
I want so badly to run after him and tell him my heart is his, just so he’ll take me right here and now, but I know that I still have the tiniest bit of fear still inside me that he’s going to leave again, regardless of what he tells me. I’m not sure what it’s going to take to convince myself otherwise, but I know until that doubt is gone, I won’t be able to give him all of me.
And it looks like that means I’ll have to do without all of him, for the time being.
Lord have mercy.
An hour and a whole lot of heated glances and stolen kisses later, we’re in his truck and headed out to the main road. He hasn’t spoken much and I’m a little worried I’ve made him mad with my failed seduction attempt. I look over at him, his Stetson now back on his head, and wish I could see his eyes clearly. Judge what’s on his mind.
We were close as kids. We grew apart, but we were still as close as teenagers can be when one is secretly in love with the other—or I guess, now that he’s opened up to me, both are secretly in love with each other. His moods were never hard to gauge with one look into his eyes, but what was going on in his mind has always been a secret. I realize the only way I’m going to know for sure what he’s thinking is to ask. It almost comforts me knowing that part of him hasn’t changed, regardless of how annoying it still might be.
Don’t be a baby, Leighton. Communicate. Tell him what’s on your mind.
Easier said than done. I look back over at him, his forearm flexing as he steers the truck. The only way we’re going to move forward is by doing it together and without constantly fearing the next unknown move. I know this, but damn if I can’t get my mouth to move.
“I’m sorry,” I tell him long minutes later, softly, but loud enough to be heard over the hum of his large tires against the asphalt. There. I did it.
He looks over, reaching off the steering wheel long enough to tip his hat up, giving me his eyes. “For what?”
“I shouldn’t have pushed you.”
He looks back at the road, not speaking.
“I just want you to know that, while I’m sorry I pushed you, I don’t regret it or what I said. I want you to know that. I mean, I understand if you aren’t ready.”
I see his shoulders move as he gives a few silent chuckles.
“Well, you don’t have to laugh at me. This is hard enough to get out as it is, cowboy.”
“I’m not laughing at you, darlin’.”
“Then what’s so funny?” I snap, losing my patience and throwing my hands up in the air.
His shoulders continue to move. “It’s funny that you think I’m not ready. I’ve already been inside you, darlin’, and I was ready to get back in there the second you came around my dick. It has not one damn thing to do with me not being ready.”
“You don’t have to be crude.”
“I’m not, Leigh. I’m being honest with you. It’s not that I’m not ready, it’s that we aren’t ready. I want you to believe me when I tell you that I’m here for good, and until I can prove that to you, I’m not taking it there. I don’t want to build what we’re starting with a foundation of just sex, even if it’s the best sex I’ve ever had.”
“Such a charmer.” I laugh. “I hear what you’re saying, but how are you going to judge when we hit this invisible point of acceptance in our relationship?”
“No clue, Leigh. I reckon we’ll both know when we get there. It might be a week, might be a month, hell—it could take less or more than both of those, but until I stop seein’ you glance at me with worry that it might be the last time in your eyes, I’m goin’ to keep tryin’ to prove to you that I’m here for good.”
20
LEIGHTON
“Poison & Wine” by the Civil Wars
“You know, we could have just walked.”
Maverick laughs, his hand tightening around mine. He doesn’t speak, but the silence is comfortable. I’ve had a smile on my face since he parked his truck and demanded I don’t move until he comes to open my door. My smile might be a little manic, but I can’t help it. This Maverick—the one I’ve had since I opened my door last night—is the one I thought I had lost forever. There is no longer a guard up, keeping him from everyone around him. The heaviness he’s worn since his late teens isn’t anywhere to be found.
He really is giving me all of him.
And all of him is beautiful.
“We could have, but where’s the fun in that?”
I look over my shoulder at his truck, the one that was perfectly clean when we left my house, and my smile grows when I see the amount of mud stuck to it.
“It’s been a long time since I went muddin’. Quinn and I used to go all the time, but then things at the shop picked up for her and the PieHole kept me busy . . . we just hadn’t found time. I forgot how much I loved it.”
“I have claw marks on my arm that tell me a different story, darlin’,” he says with a laugh.
“Oh, hush. That ride just took me by surprise.”
His deep, bellowed laughter rings out around us, and I feel like my heart might explode. When was the last time I saw this? His unabashed hilarity. I don’t even care that I’m the butt of his laughter. I would gladly get back in the truck, take the trail, and scream all over again.
And boy, did I scream.
I completely get why he’s laughing.
Saying I was taken by surprise is a big understatement. You would have thought I was about to come out of my skin the first big mud hole he hit. And true to his words, when I look at his forearm, there are bright red nail marks present.
“You done, cowboy?” I smile.