The Maverick

AVA

He wasn’t angry or possessed. He wasn’t coming at me with cruelty or spite. He didn’t need me to solve a problem or manage a situation. But it was clear from the look of determination on Bruno’s face—he wanted me.

“What promise?” I asked, my voice small and intimate, only for him.

He brought his hand up and cradled my chin, pulling me just a little closer to him.

“The one time I kissed you, Ava, I swore to myself that I was going to kiss you again.”

He was so close that I could feel his breath on my lips and the warmth of it ran through my body like a freight train, burning hot desire down my spine straight to my core. There was nothing I wanted more in the world than to feel Bruno’s lips on mine, but looking around the lobby, filled with spying eyes, I somehow managed to say, “Don’t.”

At first his hand didn’t move, but his face fell. And he started to shake his head and took a step back. “Wha… I…” He was so shocked he couldn’t form words.

I stepped forward, chasing him, needing to stay close as I whispered, “Not here.”

His backward momentum slowed and an evil little smile took over his face as he grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the elevator. He bounced in place as we waited and when the doors opened, he practically dragged me inside before he spun around and blocked the entry to the hotel's other patrons.

“Trust me,” he said to a young family clad in Disneyland paraphernalia. “Take the next one.”

When the doors closed, he pressed the button for our floor, the penthouse, and then he turned and stalked in my direction, capturing me against the wall. His hair was pulled back in a messy bun and his face had grown scruffy because the last time he shaved must have been in New York. The handrail behind me pushed into my lower back. My eyes fluttered closed as he cornered me, his scent coating the air I drew into my lungs.

“Now?” he asked, so close that the word lapped at my lips.

I started to nod, but he didn’t wait for my consent. He threaded his hands into my hair, tilting my head toward his mouth and he took. This kiss was nothing like the sweet connection of our teenage years. This was savage, monstrous. It was filled with years of wanting and hatred. It was brutal and violent, forceful and commandeering. This was a man demanding what he wanted and felt he deserved. His whole body crashed into mine, pinning me to the wall, the handrail forcing me to angle my hips toward his as he growled, “Can I fuck you, Ava? Will you let me after all these years?”

He didn’t pause long enough to let me answer. His tongue was back in my mouth, destroying every conscious thought. I clung to him. Clawed my hands into his back. Not only would I let him fuck me, but it felt possible that I’d break if he didn’t. The doors dinged open and he grabbed the back of my knees, lifting me up and carrying me out of the elevator, his mouth never leaving mine.

We didn’t make it to a bed. We didn’t even make it to a couch. The elevator opened directly into the suite and Bruno slammed me against the wall in the tiny foyer. Bruno was like an animal, all guttural sounds and groping hands. His fingers pushed up under my shirt, making contact with my skin and sending shudders of electricity in every direction.

He dropped his mouth to my breasts, nipping and snapping and the T-shirt fabric until I could feel the sharpness of his teeth against my nipples. And then his hands dropped to my waist, grabbing gruffly at the buttons on my jeans and working their way into my pants as he said, “I need to feel you, Ava. I need my fingers in your cunt.”

Savagely, he penetrated me with his hand while drawing circles around my clit with his thumb. His touch was rough. It was too much and not enough at the same time. His stroke contained all the rage he’d thrown at me over the years because the nature of his desire was just as aggressive. I liked it. I wanted it. I was hungry for everything raw and uncomfortable he had to offer. His bruising pace felt real. He and I were setting fire to years of darkness, fucking away all the animosity between us.

With each shove of his fingers, I cried out the hard, harsh sounds of my release building.

He egged me on. “That’s it, Ava.”

“Take what you need, baby.”

“Come all over my fingers.”

“Soak them.”

It was like I had a need to actually devour him, to pull him inside of me and keep him there. I lifted my leg, wrapping it around his waist so that he could push deeper, and when he did, everything inside me started to tighten and spool.

“Yes, do it, Ava. Do it now. Come for me. Come so hard you see stars.”