Page 64 of Teasing

It’s about fucking time.

EMMIE

She wants a love she’s scared to believe exists in this world.

—Emmie’s Secret Thoughts

“Do you see, Emmie?” Rosie points at the big-screen TV as the first half of the Kings game ends. “Camden keeps standing next to Daddy.”

“I do see.” They started Camden at the beginning of the game and have pulled him on and off the field since. I hope it’s a good thing. That they’re seeing what works for him. But I’m holding my breath because I also know starters don’t get a lot of playing time during preseason.

“I bet it’s cause they’re friends.” She nods her little head, agreeing with herself, and I kind of hope she’s right. “Look. Uncle Ryker and Uncle Jamie are there too.”

“Yes, they are, my little rose. Now they’re all going to the locker room for halftime. And you know what that means...” I stand and hold my hand out.

“But I wanna see Daddy play,” she tries to plead, but it ends up coming out on a yawn.

“Your daddy isn’t going to play tonight, toots. So bed it is. Come on.” With my hand still out, she looks from it to me and back again before finally taking it.

“Fine. But can I get two stories?”

Always negotiating.

But what can two stories hurt?

“Baby . . .”

Mav’s voice is soft and gravelly as his warm breath fans my face, and if this is a dream, I never want it to end.

“It’s not a dream,il mio sole.” His lips press against my throat, and I open my eyes as I’m lifted against his arms.

“You’re home,” I murmur and lay my head against his deliciously hard chest.

“That’s not the only thing that’s deliciously hard,” he growls, and I push back the last layers of sleep as reality sinks in.

“Oh God . . . Maverick, put me down.”

“I will.” He walks us into his bedroom and kicks the door shut with a molten heat in those navy-blue eyes. His pupils are bigger than I’ve ever seen. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted you here, Em?” He lays me on the bed and pulls a folded blanketup to cover me, then stands and stares. “So fucking long, Em. So fucking long.”

Maverick reaches behind his head and pulls his t-shirt off, and my eyes bug out of my head. Holy hotness carved out of stone. This man is perfection wrapped in muscle and ink, and my mind spins as I take it all in for the first time. I crawl to the edge of the bed, and he takes a step back. “What are you doing?”

Oh yeah... that was definitely a pout, and I am not ashamed.

“You’re going back to sleep, and I’m going to take an ice-cold shower.” His hand moves to the black leather belt buckle on his expensive jeans.

“You should never wear a shirt again,” I murmur as I lift up on my knees and reach for him, wide-awake now. “Shirtless in jeans is a top-tier look on you, Cujo.”

“Emmie...” He warns as my nails drag over his beautifully defined pecs. Tracing the intricate lines of his ink. Following the lines as they curve and shade around each muscle. “I’m trying to do the right thing here. I’m trying to be the good guy.”

My hands scrape down to the beautifully cut V that disappears beneath his jeans before I wrap my fingers around his belt. “Em...”

“I didn’t fall for the good guy, Mav. I didn’t fall for some perfectly well-mannered, douchey hero.” I pull him back toward the bed, fully aware that if he didn’t want to move, he wouldn’t. Lucky for me, he does. “I fell for the jerk who demanded my camera to protect his daughter.” I unbuckle his belt, then lock my eyes on his. “I fell for the jerk who yelled at me after he saw my bras hanging in the bathroom and told me I was going to get murdered.”

“Jesus,” he groans, his face strained as I pop the top button on his jeans. “I really am an asshole.”

I nod and lick my lips as I lower his zipper. “You really are. But you’re mine, aren’t you?”

The last words come out a scared whisper as the weight of them threaten to crush me. “You’ve called me yours, Maverick.” I hate the way my voice shakes. “I’ve never been anyone’s before. I’ve never let it happen, but you somehow snuck around those walls.”

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