Page 34 of Ruse
I can’t help staring at his ass in delight as he steps around me and grabs a kitchen towel from one of the cabinets in front of me. He tugs on his tank, using it to wipe the beads of sweat currently dripping down from his forehead, revealing the perfectly tanned and defined muscles of his abdomen. Visions of him working out and lifting on the bench press come back to me, followed by the image of him wet, freshly showered, with the towel wrapped low on his waist and that immaculate V-shape of hisAdonis Belt, leading down under his shorts.
Maverick winks when he catches me staring. Frustrated and annoyed yet again, I hop on one foot toward the kitchen island, attempting to sit on one of the stools. “God-dammit!” I exclaim, stepping on yet another shard of broken glass.
“My God woman, you are going to be the death of me,” Maverick curses under his breath, just before scooping me up and into his arms, and setting me down on the counter in front of him. He settles in between my legs which have involuntarily opened for him and places both palms flat against my upper thighs as if keeping me still. As if he knows my first instinct will be to jump right back down, he holds me in place with both his firm hands and daunting gaze. “Don’t move Phoenix,” he warns, his voice low, and gritty making me shiver.
I yelp feeling the cool surface of the marbled island against the back of my thighs, and he immediately catches the way goosebumps quickly cover my skin, my nipples instantly hardening under his heated blue stare, but in my head, I blame it all on the cold marble underneath me.
“It’s cold Mav, what the hell!”
He chuckles, not moving a muscle, instead pressing down harder on my thighs. “You’re bleeding Phoenix. There is literally glass sticking out of your foot. I sat your stubborn ass up here so you’d stop walking around on it and dig the glass deeper into your skin causing even more damage.”
“Well, if you’re expecting a thank you, I’m sorry to disappoint you but you’re not getting one from me. Not when it’syourmother’s fault I’m in this predicament.” The asshole laughs harder, not taking me seriously. “Ugh,” I groan, annoyed and irritated with him. But suddenly my breath hitches and I freeze under his touch as his cool, calloused fingers slowly inch higher up my thigh, playing with the hem of my skintight shorts.
“You really shouldn’t be walking around the house wearing this Nyx,” he grunts low and raspy, making me tremble with a sudden need and arousal. I swallow the knot lodged in my throat and am rendered speechless. Maverick’s tongue peeks out to lick his lips, his teeth digging into the pink flesh of his luscious and thick bottom lip. My eyes travel down to his mouth, and I instinctively lick mine, mimicking his move.
I’m met with a whiff of his cologne, and the same woodsy and delicious scent I’ve gotten lost in before hits me as I inhale sharply. I can feel my body unwillingly leaning forward, my eyes still focused on his mouth and how badly I want to press my lips against it.
Just. One. Taste.
“I found the…” Daphne suddenly enters the room, stopping in her tracks the moment she sees her son and me in this compromising position. Maverick shuts his eyes, shaking his head, and cursing under his breath at his mother’s interruption. I want to push him off me but that would only make this situation and what we were about to do more obvious. Instead, I lean further away from him and cross my legs, but my foot hits the back of the counter making me shriek in pain.
“Shit!” I cry out, Maverick and Daphne’s gazes both coming back to me and my bloody foot.
“Here,” Daphne says, walking toward us and handing the first aid kit to Maverick. Yeah right she was going to aid me herself, the woman looks like she’s about to faint and I’m not sure if it’s the sight of blood that makes her woozy or the fact she caught me almost kissing her son.
Marta rounds the corner rushing over to us, “Ay dios mio,” she exclaims in Spanish, “Mi nina what did you do?”
“It’s just a little blood Marta, I’m fine.” Maverick scoffs at my nonchalance, unzipping the kit and pulling out some gauze, alcohol wipes, and a pair of tweezers. “You know the first thing they teach you in a first aid course is to always wear gloves.”
He looks up at me amused but ignores my comment, proceeding to open the alcohol wipes with his teeth, like you would a condom.Why the hell am I thinking about condoms?My thighs press together as I wiggle uncomfortably on the counter. He notices proving it was his intention all along to have those unwanted thoughts run wild through my mind.
Without a warning, he bends my knee upward, pushing it back to a ninety-degree angle, putting me in the most awkward position. I look like I’m weirdly stretching, the bottom of my heel resting against the countertop. “A little warning asshole.”
“That would ruin the fun,” he utters back playfully.
“Maverick,” Daphne murmurs, trying to sound as calm as possible as she watches her son with his hands on me.
“Daphne, why don’t you go be useful and clean up the mess you caused instead of standing there staring like you’re about to pass out.
“Maverick,” she shouts louder, offended by his easy dismissal of her. But she doesn’t argue further. Instead, she flips her hair, turns, and stomps away, likely to go cry to my father, wherever he is.
“I’ll go get the broom and mop,” Marta mumbles, leaving Mav and I alone in the kitchen once more.
“Finally,” he scoffs, slowly wiping the blood off the skin around the cut where the glass is still embedded.
“Ugh that hurts,” I cry out, throwing my head back in anguish. Without warning, he presses his lips against the pulse point in my neck rendering me immobile from the shock of his actions. Slowly sticking his tongue out, he licks circles up and down my neck, in between delicate kisses.
“What are you doing?” I ask, breathless and sounding more aroused than I’d have wanted.
“Distracting you,” he whispers back, continuing his assault on my flesh. It feels so good I don’t have the power to stop him.
“Maverick, you can’t. Someone will see.” I feel him reach for something beside me and he suddenly pricks my skin, pulling the shard of glass out using the tweezers.”
“Son of a bitch!” I shriek looking down and watching more blood trickle out of me.
“Stop moving, I have to make sure there isn't any more glass in the wound.”
“What, are you suddenly a doctor?” I utter sarcastically. “If you were, you’d have known not to pull anything out in case it had punctured a vein and I could bleed out to death on the counter.”
