Page 48 of Want You Back

“That’s good.” I leaned into his touch, taking a full inhale for what felt like the first time in hours. The space smelled minty and clean, a stark contrast from the hospital. God, it all could have gone down so much worse. My breaths turned uneven again, and Maverick draped himself over my back, silently holding me up. I pushed my face under the spray, as much for the distraction as to cover any escaping tears.

“Sorry,” I mumbled when I finally let myself breathe again.

“Don’t be.” Maverick kept right on touching and holding me as if I weren’t more fragile than cotton candy in the rain. “That’s what I’m here for.”

“Thank you.” I spun so I could clutch him to my chest. He fit against me perfectly, and we stood there, clinging to each other until the shower sputtered a warning that we were likely on the last of the hot water. Maverick continued taking care of me even after flipping off the shower, drying me off, leading me to bed, and spooning me from behind in the dimly lit room.

However, I couldn’t fully relax, my legs moving restlessly against the crisp cotton sheets. I flipped so I was the one spooning him, yet that didn’t seem to help.

“What do you need?” Maverick asked, and suddenly, the answer was right there, plain as the full moon hanging outside.

“You.” I kissed him softly, tension leaving my shoulders and back as soon as our mouths met. This. This was my reset button. I needed him on a base level, needed to make him feel good, watch him find pleasure, seek my own release. Connection. I needed the most human of experiences, a craving not for sex so much as the feeling of being alive and cared for. “How quiet can you be?”

“Very.” Maverick chuckled against my lips. “We don’t have to do anything more than kiss, but do you think an orgasm might help you sleep?”

“Worth a shot.” I laughed as well. Maverick started wriggling south, destination clear from his determined gaze. I pulled him back up against me. “Come here.”

“I can be quieter with my mouth occupied.” He gave me a pointed look.

“I’m sure.” I kissed him again, sweet and true, before rolling him under me. “Just want this.”

“Yes.” Maverick arched up, moving so our cocks brushed. I loved using my hand on him, and fucking had been a fun and memorable experience, but I’d always liked rubbing off best of all. Perhaps it was the memory of that first kiss, all the adrenaline, wonder, and first glancing touches giving way to rocking against each other. For whatever reason, grinding together while kissing had always done it for me.

Even after all these years, there was something special about pressing into him, muscle meeting muscle, strength yielding to strength. He wrapped his powerful runner’s legs around the backs of my thighs, holding me tightly. Our hard cocks were trapped between us. Remembering Maverick’s preference for things to be slicker, I reached for the nightstand, fetching the lotion I sometimes used when jacking off.

“Perfect.” Maverick gave a happy sigh as I worked a slick hand between us, getting our cocks nice and slippery before withdrawing my hand.

“Perfect,” I echoed. I rocked against him, sliding far easier now. His mouth opened as if to moan, and I captured it in a kiss, drinking down his noises and whatever else he wanted to give me. My attention was split between the perfection of our bodies moving together and the utter rightness of every kiss we shared. There was no such thing as too aggressive for Maverick, so I kissed him deeply, tongues dancing. He sucked on my tongue, playfully at first, then purposefully until I got the idea and tongue-fucked him in time with my thrusts against him.

“Gonna,” he whispered, breath tickling my lips.

“Good.” I moved faster, kissing him harder as I rocked against him. He clung to me, fingers scoring my back, heels digging into my ass, as close as a body could get. And yet I wanted more, wanted all of him. His pleasure. His soul, which was right there for the taking, emotion gleaming in his eyes.

Body tensing, Maverick tipped his head back, but I used my hand on his jaw to force him to keep meeting my gaze. A possessive and greedy energy had taken hold of me. Maverick didn’t seem to mind one bit, though, writhing against me, face a mask of concentration.

His jaw dropped open, and I claimed another kiss right as warmth splashed between us. That set me off big time, and I thrust hard and fast. The knowledge that he was coming because of me spurred me on. Orgasm bore down on me, and I held my breath, stifling the shout that wanted to escape. The lack of oxygen intensified my climax that much more, cock pulsing hard as I shuddered and shook.

“Oh fuck,” I whispered, breath coming in big gusts.

“Guess you did need that.” Maverick stroked my back, seemingly in no hurry to deal with the mess. “We both did.”

Need.The word loomed big and ugly in my brain. Everything else I felt for Maverick crowded in behind that one word. I didn’t want to think. I wanted to float along on the happy sensations.Need.I couldn’t help my frustrated noise.

“What’s wrong?” Maverick peered up at me.

“I don’t want to need you.” I made a broken sound as I rolled off him, landing on my back, staring up at the ceiling, sticky come cooling on my belly. “Needing you means losing you.”

“No.” Glaring, Maverick sat up. He grabbed one of our discarded towels, swiping at his stomach and then mine with jerky motions. “I meant what I said earlier. I’m staying.”

“For now.” He was staying tonight, maybe for the rest of the year. That needed to be enough, yet never would be.

“For always.” He swung a leg over me, pinning me so I couldn’t escape the words I longed to hear. Impossible, crazy words, and damn the hope rising in my chest.

“Maverick…”

“I love you, Colt.” And there those words were, even worse than need. Love. The thing we didn’t talk about yet felt all the same. I stared up at him, his beautiful, chiseled face. In his eyes, I saw him at fourteen, concentrating on an arcade game, and at fifteen, camping, rare contentment on his face as the summer sun warmed his peachy skin. The lines around his mouth were new, but those were the same lips I’d kissed at eighteen, the same mouth that had told me goodbye. How could I not love that face?

My words stayed trapped behind the giant rubber band ball in my throat, all those conflicting and competing emotions. One wrong move and everything was going to spring free. As if he knew, Maverick laid a finger on my lips.

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