Page 86 of Off Court Fix

“Oh, now I’m the bad guy? Fuck Crosby, right? The guy who looks after you, theidiotwho makes time duringyourinsane schedule—”

“No one is forcing you to be here, Crosby. You don’t have to do those things,” Maxine seethes. “If I’m too much trouble—”

She doesn’t finish her sentence because I grab her by the shoulders and guide her forcefully from the baseline against the fence wound with ivy. I should feel bad I’ve spooked her, as indicated by the shift and surprised tension beneath my hands. But I don’t. Her words don’t only gaslight me—they nearly combust me into a million little pieces.

“Don’t do that,” I whisper harshly as I tighten my grip on her. “Don’t turn this into some pity party. I’m here—I’ve been here—because you’re worth it. I believe that. Why don’t you?”

Maxine keeps her silence, and I can tell she’s waiting for me to soften, to let her win this one. It’s not that I don’t want to go down without a fight. It’s that I don’t want her to go down without kicking and screaming and giving it her all—exactly how she does on the court.

I slide one hand to her neck. “They control you, Maxine, because youletthem.” Our chests beat together, and I place my free hand above her head, gripping the fence. As I lean over her, she almost cowers. “Tell me, what did you say? When your father said no to that tournament, what did you say?”

Maxine’s swallow bobbles in her throat beneath my thumb.

“Did you even sayno? Why?”

Another swallow. I circle my thumb, coaxing an answer, and she shakes her head before leaning it back against the fence. Sliding my hand up, I tilt her chin to me, and her eyes fall closed. And there it is, the moment that always comes when the world darkens and clouds and cocoons. There’s no one but us, no noise but Maxine’s heavy breathing until my shoe slips on the clay of the court, and I’m reminded we’re safe in her home. And yet she still won’t say it.

“What do you want, Maxine?” Her eyes remain closed, and I push my finger between her slightly parted lips, hooking the pillowed bottom, but the only sound she relinquishes is a cross between a mewl and a sharp cry of surprise. “Your words. Use your words.”

Now her eyes open, and they’re fiery and fierce and captivating. They’re fighting eyes, and even though they’re wasted on me at the moment, I know she needs to warm up. When I push myself against her, she takes a sharp breath before her tongue swipes at my finger.

“With me,” I coach her, dropping my hand to her waist. “What do you want with me? Right now, in this moment.”

Maxine flexes her feet to push up onto her toes, her mouth prepared to take mine, but I tilt to the side, pressing harder against her as my lips find her ear. “Tell me.”

Her chest begins to rise and fall quickly. My fingers holding onto the fence above her cling harder, and I don’t care that the metal pattern will be imprinted into my palm, showing just how hard I need to fight my own urge—I’m holding still.

This is a lesson, after all.

“You,” Maxine finally pants, and she’s trying to turn her face to find mine, but I don’t allow it. I don’t want to give her any other option than to speak loudly and uninhibited. “I want you.”

Maxine bucks against me, but it’s not enough. “Where?” My teeth graze her ear this time, and she whimpers. “Tell me where.”

She’s trying to show me by flexing her hips again, but that’s not what I want, and more importantly, it’s not whatsheneeds.

“I want to hear you say it,” I nearly groan, and I have to give her the smallest roll of my hips because she’s a dammed river ready to be released, and the anticipation of the flooding is testing my control.

I’m only human. A man. I’m only a man, and I’ve got this gorgeous girl writhing against me, so I let myself have just a few seconds where I close my eyes and focus on nothing but her body grinding into mine, her hot, sweaty skin seeking me through clothes and frustration. I’m about to scrap all my plans. But then, like she often does, Maxine surprises me.

“Here.” She’s taken advantage of my weak moment and yanked my hand down from her neck. When she presses it between her legs against her bikini bottom, I cup her on instinct, knowing the only thing that would match the heat she’s burning my palm with is on the other side of the material.

But this isn’t for me.

I pant into her neck, swiping at the delicate skin with my tongue and groaning over the salty-sweet taste. “How bad do you want it?” When she doesn’t answer, I dig my palm harder against her, and she yelps. “How bad?”

She’s a whimpering mess. “So bad,” she mewls, thrashing her head side to side. “Crosby—”

“Like you’ll die without it.”

“Yes.”

“Like you’ve never wanted anything more than this in your entire life.” It’s my sentiment as well.

A stream of cursed mumbles falls from her mouth before she answers in the affirmative.

“No one is going togiveit to you, Maxine. They’re only going to try to take it from you.” I remove my hand, and she falls forward with a gasp when I step back, putting space between us, our chests heaving as if they are desperate to be crushed back together. “Talk the talkandwalk the walk. Don’t be shy, don’t be afraid of what anyone thinks of you.Fuckwhat they think,” I spit before waiting another beat. “What do you want?”

Three breaths later, she speaks, “I want to—”

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