Page 97 of Can't Get Enough

My belly is a bowlful of Jell-O. The longer I sit beside him, smell him, feel the heat of him pressed so close and see the tenderness in his eyes, the more my convictions wobble.

“What exactly do you want?” I ask. “A repeat of last night? You came here to have sex again? Because I’m in my right mind now and I won’t slip and fuck you in a closet.”

“I want you in your right mind.” His mouth kicks up into a one-sided grin. “So we can negotiate.”

“Negotiate?”

“I’m very good at it.”

“So am I.”

“I’m counting on it.”

“What exactly are we negotiating?”

“Our future.”

Those words are a one-two punch to my throat. The thought steals my breath for a second.

“We don’t have one,” I say, toying with the silk band on my pajama bottoms. “Not together. I don’t want what you want. We don’t want the same things.”

“Our encounter in the coatroom last night begs to differ. I think we both got what we wanted. You got it twice, if I counted correctly.”

Most women would probably at least wince or flinch or blush at the reminder of their freakishness, but I force myself to present an unwavering stare, unmoved and unashamed.

“You’ve wasted a trip, Mav. We had sex once. So what? Making me come is not an accomplishment. Plenty of people have.”

He frowns. “I don’t care how many people you’ve slept with, Hendrix. You’re not going to change my mind throwing that in my face. I said I’m here to negotiate our future, not to litigate your past. Or mine, for that matter.”

I hate him for being exactly the kind of man I would choose.

“I don’t have to ask if you care about me,” Maverick goes on. “I know you do. We’ve become friends, but I’ve always wanted you. If the situation with Zere weren’t a factor, I would have pursued you from the beginning.”

“Get to the point so you can go.” I try to sound testy, but the indulgent smile he sends me says I’m not doing a very good job of it.

“I’m not going. That’s the first thing you should know,” he says. “I want to build something lasting with you.”

His declaration steals my breath and robs me of speech, leaving me to stare at him a in lengthening silence.

“Let me ask you something,” he finally says. “When you’ve accomplished all your goals, have your TV show, got your unicorn business—whatever’s on your list—after you’ve gotten all of that, what then?”

I frown and grit my teeth. “Why does there have to be anything else?”

“Because there has to be more to life than the things we do, Hendrix.”

“I’m creating a legacy. I’m serving my community. I’m achieving…”

Before I can block it, Soledad’s voice echoes back to me. Actually my own words to her echo back to me.

There are parts of you that want to be held, want to be needed and loved. That is just as emotionally valid as the parts of you that crave independence.

“I’m chasing my dreams,” I finish with as much strength as I can muster.

“I’m chasingyou.”

My eyes snap to his and neither of us look away.

“Iama chaser, Hendrix. I go after things. You won’t find a man more ambitious than me, but I’ve learned that it’s never enough,” he says, his stare burning with belief, blazing with conviction. “You can’t earn enough. You can’t achieve enough. Ambition for things and accolades is a bottomless pit. It’s all you can eat, but you never get full.”

---