Page 46 of Ruse
I make the mistake of turning back to Maverick once I’m out of his arms, and again fall victim to his mesmerizing gaze which is currently luring me into the abyss. He tugs his T-shirt on over his head. “No please, you saved me from something I’d regret in the morning,” he jokes.
Are you kidding me?This is amusing to him.
I roll my eyes even harder, exasperated by his casualness. “Oh fuck off Maverick, it didn’t look like you wereregrettingit. Do you even know why the whole brawl broke out in the first place and why the bitch bailed on it?”
Instead of acting annoyed, he looks quite amused, chuckling as he runs his fingers through his black wavy hair. “Why?”
“Ugh never mind.” If he wants to shove his tongue down her throat and his cock anywhere near her, that’s his prerogative.
“What are you doing out here alone, anyway?” he asks, ignoring my drunken rambling, but his eyes never once leave me. Instead, they drink me in, raking over my body and leaving a trail of chills in their wake.
“I needed some air,” I snap, but just as I say it, a shiver crawls up my spine, the wind picking up slightly. It’s early September now, nights turning cooler as we fall into Autumn.
“Were you not having fun?”
For some odd reason, I easily forget I couldn’t get away from him fast enough. “I can’t believe I once found these stupid partiesfun.”
He chuckles, clearly from my state of unease. “Come on, I'll walk you back.”
Blinking rapidly, I stare up at him, confused for a moment before realizing what he’s saying. Oh, there is no way I’m going back to that party now. Not after what I just witnessed.
“No can do,” I murmur immediately, cursing myself for sounding so stupid. “I mean, I’m not going back. I’m going home.”
He chuckles louder now, clearly laughing at me. “Then I’ll walk you home.”
“I know my way.”
His hand rests on the small of my back, and suddenly I’m gravely aware of the fact I’ve been standing here with him, wearing nothing but my thin triangle top bikini and high-waisted cheeky bottom. I left the party as quickly as I could, ditching my shorts and coverup, and grabbing only my phone before rushing out. Shit.
“I’m sure you do. Doesn’t mean I can’t walk you,” he responds, his eyes roaming hungrily over my body on full display.
I scoff indignant, remembering how just two minutes ago I caught him with his tongue down Tate’s throat and now he’s here, looking at me like he’s planning on doing just the same. As if.
“Aren’t you eager to get back to the party and finish what you started?”
Mav’s gorgeous blue eyes light up with curiosity instead of becoming angry because of my sarcastic jab. “Is that jealousy I hear on the tip of your tongue, Nyx?” he smirks, nipping at his bottom lip, his hands crossing over his chest. “You know you’ll always be my favorite watermelon flavored kiss.” He winks and my body reacts to the memory, heat rushing to my center as he murmurs the last word, slow and steady. I can’t go there again. With just the way he’s staring at me, I’m dangerously aware of how badly I’m turned on. Snap out of it, Phoenix.
“Yeah right. More like utter disgust,” I groan, reminding myself he just had his tongue shoved down Tate’s throat. “I seriously thought I was going to vomit when I caught you with your tongue down Twit Twat Tate’s mouth.”
“Twit Twat Tate?” he asks, curious to know more, and I realize the nickname Dee, Olly and I gave Tatum freshman year slipped out. Oops, guess I did drink more than I’d thought.
“Nothing, just a sweet nickname I gave her years ago. You know cause well, it’s self-explanatory.”
A wide grin spreads across his face, reaching from ear to ear, clearly entertained. “Damn, now I’m curious to hear what nickname you and your little friends have given me.”
My faulty filter continues to fire off. “Sex-God Rebel with too many causes, Maverick the Great, to name a few Olly came up with. If you ask me, my favorite is Satan’s Spawn.” I turn away from him, not wanting to give him any more attention. Apparently, yet again my confession is more intriguing than insulting.
Beside us, the waves are quietly rustling in the ocean, almost dormant, whispering into the night. In the sky, the full moon glimmers brightly, illuminating the walkway back toward the long row of houses, dimly lit in the distance.
A stretch of million-dollar beachfront mansions extends down the shore of Malibu Cove, Tate’s nestled about a mile away from mine and Dee’s.
“Clever Nyx,” he responds, bringing me back to the moment before me. I lower my eyes in submission, nervous I’ve said more than I should. “Do you want to be my Queen of the Night?” I freeze, shocked by his comment, my eyes flicking back to his, unsure of what he meant by it, and trying to find answers in the depth of his watchful stare.
Maverick’s been adamant about using that god awful, totally unclever nickname, which I’m not ashamed to say I looked up.Nyx. The primordial goddess of the night. The daughter ofKhaos.
Come to think of it, given the circumstances in recent months, it’s perfectly fitting.
Though what shocks me is the title accompanying the nickname.Queen, his queen.What on earth does that mean?
