But he also hadn’t been interested in talking. When they’d returned to his house, he’d collapsed into her bed and fallen right to sleep, still wearing his Ravens cut and boots and everything. No matter what he’d said earlier in the day, Alexa hadn’t been able to fight back the guilt she felt—guilt that he was so upset about his best friend being locked up in jail because of her ex—and she’d been unable to fall asleep.
She’d finally given up and gone out to the couch to work on her project for a couple hours, and part of her was glad that she had—because she was in better shape than she thought she was. A few more solid hours and it would be good enough to turn in. Maybe not her best work ever, but good enough. Right now, that felt like a victory.
A flicker of light out in the backyard caught her eye, and Alexa walked closer to the big picture window. A bright moon sparkled off the pond, and a low flash of red and yellow revealed a small fire.
In bare feet, Alexa crossed the back deck and padded down the sandy trail to the fire pit that sat at the little beach’s edge. Maverick sat next to the fire in a white T-shirt and jeans, his feet bare, his elbows braced on drawn-up knees, his eyes focused out over the dark water. He was so beautiful to her that it made her chest ache.
“Hey,” she said. The heat of the fire warmed her legs, the sensation a pleasant contrast against the night air.
His gaze cut to her and then dragged down her body. She felt the hungry look like a physical caress. “Hey. Why are you up?” His voice was flat, tired.
“Could ask you the same thing.” She came to stand in front of him.
“Too much shit in my head,” he said, raking his hands through his hair.
An apology sat on the tip of her tongue, but Alexa bit it back. That wasn’t what he needed from her. He needed her to make it better, to make it all go away, even if only for a little while.
“Know what helps that?” She dropped the blanket by his feet, her heart doing a little flip inside her chest. Next, she shed her T-shirt. Then she stepped out of her panties until she finally stood naked in front of him.
The raw need she saw on his face was the greatest thrill and the biggest turn-on. But she wanted to ease his mind before she tended to his body.
She stepped backward, a smile growing on her face. “Midnight skinny-dipping helps that. Like when we were young. Not a care in the world. Just you and me against the world.” Backward and backward, until her feet hit the cool water’s edge. Come on, Maverick.
He tilted his head and his gaze lost some of the blankness from moments before.
Alexa kept going. The water hit her knees, her thighs, her waist. The soft bottom was cold against her feet. But she kept going until she turned her back on him and gently dove toward the streak of moonlight stretching out across the dark, glimmering surface. The temperature was a shock to Alexa’s sleep-warmed skin, but it didn’t take her long to adjust. And then it was like swimming through silk, soft and slick and tantalizing. The bottom was a little rocky in some places and muddy in others, so Alexa swam out until she could just barely touch . . . and then she floated.
Small splashes sounded out from the water’s edge. She smiled up at the star-scattered sky, her heart exploding at the fact that Maverick was getting in, that he’d let her offer a distraction from everything weighing on his mind. Finally, she turned to find him thigh-deep, breathtaking in his nakedness, and heading her way. He dove, giving her a flash of the ink on his back before submerging for a long moment.
She scanned the surface, waiting for him to reemerge. Something grabbed her leg.
Alexa screamed and flailed. Maverick came up wearing a smug smirk, his arm around her waist, his hair appearing dark from the water.
She smacked his shoulder, laughing despite herself. “You scared me!”
“Sorry, baby,” he said, his tone clearly not even a little sorry.
Even though he said it playfully, the term of endearment unleashed butterflies through her belly. Until this week, she hadn’t heard it in years, and it was both familiar and achingly new after so long. “No you’re not. You suck.”
He held her tighter, their fronts pressed together from breast to thighs. “Is that an invitation?” His mouth dropped to her neck. Licked. Nipped. Sucked at the soft spot below her ear.
Alexa’s chuckle turned into a moan. “A standing invitation.”
Maverick’s cock hardened between them, feeling deliciously thick. “Did you mean it?” he whispered against her skin.