Chapter Seven
Maverick
I’ve killed men before. I watch their heads explode through the scope of my gun. I hate to break it to you, but it’s nothing like how it happens in Call of Duty. Blood sprays like a halo of red and then nothing. The crackle of life that hums in the air gets a little duller. Less life exists in the space surrounding me than it did only moments before. I don’t know how I can tell; it’s just like breathing, but death really is another sense.
After that trigger pull I feel release and a huge sense of accomplishment. After years and years of practicing, I get to do exactly what the Navy trained me to do. Of course directly following, I question my fucking sanity for the exaltation that comes with a snuffed life. It’s not about whom you kill. It’s about what you save. My brothers are beside me—like they always are, chasing down the same sense of enlivenment that only comes from this line of work. If the monsters on the other side of the scope don’t die, one of my brothers could. Or worse, an innocent.
Windsor is an innocent. She is so good that the opposite sense of death has reared its head. I have the urge to protect her. I want to protect her from all the bad around us. I get so caught up in her good and in the way she makes me feel that I forget that the main thing I should protect her from—that she should be fearful of—is myself.
I’ve made the decision to try to be with her…whatever that really means. There isn’t another option. I can’t think of anything else. When I close my eyes I see huge blue eyes, her cheekbones, her white smile. Oh, I still think of her sucking and fucking, but now it’s more. Way more. I’m worried if I don’t get whatever the fuck this is out of my system before deployment, I might not be as focused as I need to be. I’m losing my normal precision control and it scares the shit out of me. I’m afraid to kiss her because I’m afraid to fuck her because I’m afraid of what that will mean. I know enough to know I can’t fuck Windsor Forbes out of my system. The tiny glimpses I’ve gotten into her world only intrigue me and make me want to know more.
For the first time in my entire life I want more from another person and I can’t give what I take. It’s a mutual relationship with my teammates. What I give, they give back. It’s symbiotic. I can tell Windsor wants more from me, and that’s the scariest fucking thing of all. Because I know I’ll eventually give it to her. And it will wreck her completely to pieces. The damage will be catastrophic. Worse than death. The biggest halo of dark red blood spray will come from the right section of my own God damned chest.
Currently, my pulse resides in my cock. She’s in the passenger seat of my car wearing the smallest jean shorts I’ve ever seen. Her long tan legs are stretched in front of her. Tiny gray Converse shoes tap along to music. The white tank top rides up every time she leans over to mess with the radio, and I pray that static will fuzz out a song every couple minutes so I can catch a glimpse of exposed skin. With her hair down and her face almost bare of makeup, she looks like a walking water board created especially for me. Torture on every level. I haven’t even figured out what exactly it is about her that makes her so different from every other girl I’ve met in the last five years. What holds my interest? What keeps me engaged? I have no clue. I actually sat down and made a list of pros and cons of dating Windsor. The only cons were all things that dealt with me. Things that I can’t change, that are my fault. Not hers.
I put Steve in place the second I bought a new cell phone. He knows exactly where I stand with her, even if he doesn’t understand it. On a whim, I decided to change my number so my phone wouldn’t be blowing up with texts and calls from all of the insignificants. I meant what I told her. I really don’t want anything to do with anyone else. That said, I need to get laid badly. My cock saluted Windsor the second she came bouncing down the stairs when I picked her up. I’ve had to work at keeping it at bay as I drive, but even her damn voice gets to me. This is our fourth date since the horrible dinner date.
A pop song blares out of my speakers, causing me to wince a little. “I love this song,” she says, curling her legs underneath her. “How can you drive without glancing at me even once?” she asks. “I mean, I’m glad you’re a safe driver, but what gives? Are you worried about crashing this beautiful piece of machinery?” I chuckle. Little does she know my peripheral vision has been studying her every subtle curve for the past twenty minutes. She refers to my car with such reverence. I love it.
“Some things demand your full attention,” I say. To make a point I turn my head and look directly at her. She startles and her full lips part. I make a show of running my eyes down over her cleavage and back up again. She smiles.
“Just drive, please,” she says, her voice a little breathy. I love that I affect her. “You should tell me where we’re going, too.” I focus my attention back on the bare road. Sunday mornings are always like this. I’m usually on my bike, by myself, but this…with her, feels good. She rubs her hand on the bottom of the seat, feeling the leather.
I grab one of her hands in my right hand and squeeze. “It’s a surprise. I owe you. You granted me multiple dates so I have to make every second count,” I say, rubbing my thumb over the dip between her fingers. She sighs a little. A jolt runs from my stomach all the way down to my dick. A nun or my grandpa on a cold, wet day. A nun or my grandpa on a cold, wet day. The mental distraction works.
She captures my hand on top and starts rubbing my fingers back. “Good. I don’t want to have to call Steve for that date anytime soon,” she says, voice teasing. Jealousy. A feeling I’m not used to hits me like a brick wall. Even though I know she’s joking, I can’t stop it. We’ve shared girls before, more times than I’d like to admit, but the thought of Windsor with anyone else makes me crazed. One of my brothers? Fuck no. “Well, at least I know he wouldn’t awkward hug me after a real date,” she finishes, and I feel like she’s hit me in the gut. I’ve avoided touching her as much as possible, even going as far as not walking her to the door so I’m not tempted to kiss her goodbye.
“I can let him know you’re interested in non-awkward hugging if you want?” I tell her, my tone far too sharp to be joking, which is what I was aiming for. She laces her fingers in between mine, fitting our hands together perfectly. Mine big. Her’s small.
“I was joking. I’d rather awkward hug you than anything with Steve. You have to tell me though…you said you wanted me and then you hug me and then you nothing me. What’s that about?”
“I want to take it slow, that’s all,” I admit. It’s a truth, just not a whole truth. I’m not sure why exactly I don’t want to bag her just yet.
“Because you’ve never gone slow before?” she asks. I think she’s joking, but one look at her face says otherwise. I guess it makes sense she’d think that. I know the general public expects us to keep up fast-paced lifestyles. I’m sure everything she knows about me and my profession came from either Morganna or Dr. Google.
“Yeah. I guess that’s about right,” I admit. “Don’t think I don’t want to fuck you five ways from Sunday, though. That would be a lie. I don’t do lies…ever. In perfect honesty, I’ve never wanted to insert my penis into a body more than I do yours.” I do look at her after I speak. I have to see her face. Sure, it was crass. I mean it.
Eyes wide, she just glares at me. The thought comes perfectly, sanely—Windsor wants everything I just said. She wants to fuck me. And for all her talk of not wanting sex with anyone or me, she just gave herself away. It’s so obvious. A little of her innocence slips away in this moment and I couldn’t be happier. I turn the steering wheel into our destination –a huge barren patch of land with tire tracks leading to a small building surrounded by airplanes.
“It’s okay to want to be fucked five ways from Sunday, Windsor,” I say, turning off the car. She swallows audibly. I watch the top of her breasts as they rise up and down. She is so fucking beautiful I can’t stand it. Sitting in this car, which is now off, I can focus on her completely.
She is still trying to respond to my non-question. I smile. The one I know affects her. I’m pulling out all the fucking stops right now. For some reason I want to hear her admit what she feels.
I graze her knee with my fingertips casually, running them lightly up her smooth thigh only stopping when my fingers hit jean. She closes her eyes as her breathing speeds up. “As long as I’m the one doing all the fucking,” I whisper into her ear, making sure my lips graze her earlobe as I speak. She turns her head, searching for my lips. I pull back and stroke the inside of her thigh again. “Today though? You’re going to jump out of an airplane strapped to my chest,” I say, making sure she looks me directly in the eye.
Blue Eyes is all mine. Even though she looks shocked at today’s choice of activity, I know she wants me and that stupid knowledge makes me so fucking giddy.
“S-s-skydiving,” she stutters. It sounds more like fuck me, than a recreational sport. My dick, who has been tenting my pants since I removed the key from the ignition, is on high alert. I know I need to take it slow; he doesn’t. Poor bastard. “Are you even qualified to do that?”
I laugh loudly. “Of course I’m qualified to do that. Who do you think I am? You think I’d break the law?” I grab a bag from the backseat.
“I mean of course you can do it, but you can do it with me under you?” She shakes her head. It looks so cute. I know what she means, but I want to go there anyway. The sexual tension is so thick I’m about to choke on it.
“Windsor, you can be in any position you want to be in. Today, for tandem skydiving, you will be under me. I’ll make it good…fun. I promise,” I tell her. I’ve never gone tandem with a woman before. Usually it’s one of my buddies swinging under me during training trips.
“I’m scared. This is not on my bucket list, Maverick. Do you know how many things can go wrong? I mean there must be at least a thousand glitches that could happen. We’d careen into the earth so fast we’d explode!” she says, her voice rising. I can just smile and reassure her that I won’t let anything happen to her. Because I won’t. Her worries do distract me from her ass, which is a good thing.
*****
We’re up in the small, rickety airplane ascending to twelve thousand feet where we will jump out of a perfectly good flying machine. She made me check her harness twenty-two times before she agreed to board the plane. I indulged her mainly because it meant my hands were all over her—in between her legs, her waist, her shoulders. I went over the procedures and what exactly I expected of her. She paid attention, her eyes wide, as if her life depended on it. She thought it did, which made me laugh. Her life depends on me. Windsor got a little pissy when I told her that.
“I hate this part,” I whisper into her ear. She’s sitting on my lap because she’s officially connected to me. She turns her head to the side and her eyes go wide.
She clutches my pants in her hands. “Do not say stuff like that, Maverick!” she yells back over the whir of the engines. The buildings on the ground are getting smaller and smaller. I wrap my hands around her waist and drag her back to my chest. She tenses for a second, then relaxes completely into me. When she leans her head back against my shoulder and turns it to look up at me, my head swims. The trust in her eyes gives me a high I only get from a couple other places.
“I got you,” I say, and hope it’s not a fucking lie. I want to have her not just now as we hurl toward earth, but for as far into the future as I can comfortably predict.
She nods her head, though her heart is hammering. I feel it thumping into me, and I know exactly what will take her mind off everything. I want to kiss her so badly I can already taste her lips. I’ve been so close so many times in the past weeks that I think I know what her lip-gloss will taste like when I lick it off. I’ve memorized her every curve and have predicted what she will feel like in my hands as we make-out furiously, no caution—just tongues and skin and sweat.
“Take a leap, Windsor. I won’t let anything happen to you,” I tell her as I lift her to stand in front of me. She nods once more, but I believe it this time because she smiles before she turns around, her back still pressed against my front.
A muffled voice fills the cabin of the plane, announcing that we’ve reached our jumping altitude. We’re the only two so we walk together, like we practiced in unison, so we don’t trip, to the door. Mannie comes over and unlatches the hatch exposing the blue sky. A whistle fills the air and Windsor lets out a little scream. I chuckle to myself, remembering the first time I jumped out of an airplane, the adrenaline consuming me. It really does go against every self-preservation defense mechanism the human body has. My heart picks up, like it always does, and it’s like a fucking jolt of life entering my bloodstream. This is it. This is what I live for. And with this woman strapped to me I don’t think there is a better feeling in the world.
I inch up to the edge of the door, keeping my hands on each side of the hatch. I look down over Windsor’s shoulder to see the landing zone. It looks like a speck of something, but I know it’s where we need to end up. Another scream, but this time accompanied with laughter, hits me. She’s excited and that makes me even higher.
“On three!” I shout. It’s hard to hear anything with the engines and now the wind whipping us, calling me to it.
She nods her head. “Yes!” she screams back, her hands tensing on the hatch door. I glance at Mannie and he gives me a solid nod, with a huge smile.
“One,” I say, and rock forward a little bit in preparation for three when she’ll go out completely. “Two.” Another rock forward, a little bit further, extending my arms almost fully. “Three!” I yell and I push forward all the way.
The wind hits us like a punch and then we fall.
*****
Windsor
There is no sense of falling, only air hitting me. It’s like the air is trying to hold me up, but gravity wins out in the end. I know this because the things on the ground get bigger as we fall. I focus all my energy on keeping my arms out to the sides and bent just like Maverick taught me. It’s hard, because I scream every few seconds and I’m sure I move from the correct position.
The scared shitless feeling left the second we left the plane. Now, I just feel free. Adrenaline pumps and my heart hammers, but being one with the air makes me feel unrestrained in a way I never imagined possible. The risks are moot; I’m in the air, falling rapidly. Nothing matters except the way this freedom feels.
I’m confident in Maverick’s abilities. I never for a second questioned whether I’d be safe. His confidence is enough for both of us. When he wrapped his arms around me and told me to take a leap, I knew this was what I needed. I see his arms in my peripheral vision and the sight of his big arms, wrapped in tattoos, hovering over me just confirm my safety. I am safe.
“One,” Maverick shouts. He’s going to pull the parachute on three like we practiced. Two comes next.
“Three,” he says. I ball up my legs as much as I can, which isn’t much, and we are rising up, up, up in the opposite direction we were just going. I look up and see the huge blue parachute opening. All falls silent as Maverick grabs the handles and begins guiding us down.
I pant a few seconds, just catching my breath from the thrill of it all. He laughs. It’s a laugh I haven’t heard before. It’s completely unguarded and carefree. “Oh my God. That was insane!” I squeal. It really is a squeal, too.
“Insane good or insane awesome?” he asks through his laughs.
“Freaking insanely awesome. AHHHHHHHHHHHH!” It’s contagious. I laugh so hard that I don’t know if I’ll ever stop. A few pulls on the handles and we’re spinning around in circles that make my stomach drop.
“We’ll get down quicker this way,” he explains.
The scenery is unreal—so beautiful from the vantage point at the top of the world. We are so small. The ground moves toward us fast now. I don’t realize how quickly we’re dropping until I see trees get larger.
“I want to stay up here as long as possible,” I say, reaching back to grab on to his leg with one hand. I lean my head back and rest it on his chest.
“Remember to bend your legs when we land,” he says. I do and we’re on the ground in a perfect landing in a large open field. In another moment, he is unclasping the parachute from his back and detaching my harness.
I’m still breathing hard and the adrenaline I feel is buzzing so wildly that I think I may pass out or scream again. Maverick turns me around to face him. His one-dimpled smile is out to play. His brown hair is air tousled. He looks more amazing than I ever remember him looking. He’s in his element. This is the real Maverick.
I prop my hands on my hips, but he pulls me against his chest in a quick jerk. “I should have done this weeks ago. Now, I can’t wait another second.” Cradling my head in his hands he smashes our lips together. He bends down and scoops me up. I wrap my legs around his waist without removing my mouth from his. His tongue is soft as he pushes it into my mouth with skilled flicks and twirls. Mint flavor hits me, mingling with his cologne and I think I might devour him forever. And ever. And ever.
I wrap my hands around his neck and pull his head toward me until our teeth click together. The sound makes him groan and clutch my ass tighter to him. His fingers splay on the edge of my shorts. It annoys me that my clothes have the audacity to stop this man from touching every inch of me. When Maverick bites my bottom lip, I shut my eyes and gasp. I love how sweet gentleness laces his roughness. I turn my head so my lip breaks free. Bringing my lips to his neck, I lick the frog tattoo that peeks out of his t-shirt. I drag my mouth up to his ear, and then very slowly along his scruffy jawline. His stubble tickles my tongue.
“Smile,” I order, looking directly into his fuck me eyes. He knows exactly what I want, because that smile breaks across his face. Dimples. I shut my eyes and my tongue finds one of those sweet little dips all on its own.
Maverick loosens his grip on my ass so I slide down his body. He presses my sex against the bulge in his pants. It is so freaking hard and so large, I can’t ignore it. I circle my hips, grinding against him, feeling him where I want him so badly. A growl that seems to rip from his chest echoes in the wide-open air around us. His noise of raw need makes my pulse speed. He traces the curve of my lips with the tip of his tongue before plunging it back into my mouth. Claiming my mouth like no one else has. This man is owning me. And I want it so badly that I’ll let him own me in every way possible in the middle of a field.
He smiles against my lips. It forces me to open my eyes. “This is even better than jumping out of airplanes,” he says, his voice so low, I’m so freaking turned on that my hips automatically rock against him again.
I smile against his smile. “This is better than anything else, Maverick.” I say his name in a sexed up tone and drag my tongue over his other dimple. He sighs loudly. “It’s way better than awkward hugging, isn’t it?”
He draws back, his lips pink and swollen from kissing. He shakes his head a few times as he just stares at my face. “You,” is all he says. I know he’s looking at my eyes and lips. It’s a back and forth game.
“You,” I say back, as I watch something flicker in his eyes. “That was some record breaking first kiss.”
A cocky grin plays on his wet mouth. “I only do record breaking, Win. One word,” he says.
I bite my lip, which now feels a little swollen from his teeth. A shiver of delight runs up my spine at the use of my nickname. It sounds so much better coming out of his mouth.
“Amazing,” I say, but his lips descend back to mine before I can ask him for his one word. He brings us to the ground and we make-out like teenagers in a field for a long time. He doesn’t let it go further even though I think I beg him once or twice.
I may have had reservations about the type of person he was when we first met, but the person who is with me today isn’t that guy. This Maverick Hart is sweet, compelling, fifty shades of hot, and so into me. He is amazing. I’ve trusted him with my life today, and with that came a tiny piece of my heart.