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The Story Of Us Part 8

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"I'll tell you a secret," he whispers in my ear. "I can't dance."

"Everyone can dance," I say.

"No, really. I can't. It's worse than them." He motions toward Jake and Finn, who now have a five-foot diameter of empty dance floor around them. Are they seriously break dancing?

I shake my head, embarra.s.sed. "That's not dancing. That's ... I don't know what that is."

"Painful to watch."



"Okay, yeah, that. I can teach you," I say.

"What?"

"I said, 'I can teach you,'" I shout over the music. I point at his eyes and back at my own.

Then I straighten my back, and Maverick matches my posture. "Now, your right hand goes here." I place it on my shoulder. "And your left is at my waist, like this. Bend your elbow. Good."

I remove my hold of him to clap out the beats of the music. "Listen. There are eight even counts. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight." I repeat it a few times, my hips moving to the music. "Do you hear it?"

He shakes his head. "No."

I smile. "I'll lead. Start with your left foot first, and stay on the b.a.l.l.s of your feet." He rises all the way up on his tiptoes and c.o.c.ks his head in question.

"No!" I laugh. "This isn't ballet. Like this." I bounce a little on mine to show him. "Yes, like that. Now step forward, back, and then together." We're not on time, but we'll work up to it. Basic steps first. "Now do the same thing with your right foot leading. Front, back, together. Yeah!"

"I'm going to step on your toes."

"They'll survive, I promise. Let's try faster." I move with him this time, both of us staring down at our feet. "One, two, three, four-wait. Pause on four. It's a quick, quick, slow."

Once Maverick seems to have it, I stop him. "Okay, let's try it to the counts of the music. Are you ready?"

"No," he laughs, and his eyes brighten under the flas.h.i.+ng lights. "Pause on four, right?"

"Right. And keep your back straight."

He does, but he keeps his chin down to focus on the floor. "Your toenails are nice."

They're salmon with eggsh.e.l.l swirls and tiny diamond studs. "I can paint yours to match later if you want."

"I'll think about it."

I count off the first eight, then begin on the second. "One, two, three. Five, six, seven. One, two, three. Five, six, seven. Quick, quick, slow. Quick, quick, slow. You're getting it."

He meets my gaze and steps on my toes.

"Oh, G.o.d, I'm sorry," he says.

"You'll have to look up eventually." I shake it off. "Try again?"

He hesitates, but then he reaches for me. He tips his chin down, and I lift it up again. "Eyes are more important than toes. Focus here."

"Wow. Jellysnack is bossy. I think I like it."

I blush at the smirk on his face. "Only on the dance floor."

"I might be able to change that. It's s.e.xy when a girl knows what she wants. A lesson for a lesson?"

I clear my throat as I run my fingers through my hair. "Um, I'll count us off. One, two, three, four. Five, six, seven, and..."

He makes the right first move, and a minute into the song, I stop counting. "Feel the beats," I say, putting some sway into my hips.

"You didn't answer my question."

I try to avoid his gaze again, but with two fingers against my cheek, he moves it back and doesn't let go. His brows perk up as if expecting me to answer.

Heat ripples under my skin. "Maybe."

What I don't say is that he already has me. He had me hours ago.

He slides my hair off the side of my neck and kisses me there. My eyelids fall closed, and a noise slips past my lips.

"Is that a yes?" he asks.

"Maybe," I repeat, my voice more breathy than before.

He kisses me again, and I realize I'm no longer dancing.

"You ready to get out of here?"

I nod.

The door to his hotel room hasn't even clicked closed before Maverick's mouth slams into mine. Hands in my hair, body pressed up against me. Heat pours off him and rises within me. It's been so long since I've let go with a man, but I haven't forgotten how it feels.

I kiss him back with a ferocity I didn't know I had. Maverick's worked all day stoking the coals, and now he's igniting the fire.

He pulls my s.h.i.+rt over my head. Fingers dig into my sides, and already I want to explode. Closer, closer, I need him closer. Our tongues tangle, and Maverick lets a moan slide into my mouth. I can't take this any longer. I jump, wrapping my legs around his hips so I can grind against him.

In my mind, I see scarlet. For pa.s.sion. So much scarlet.

"G.o.d, I want you," he murmurs.

Maverick grabs my a.s.s and walks us to the bed. He lowers me onto it, and I whimper when he pulls away to remove his s.h.i.+rt. The sun is setting, soft light filtering in through the balcony doors and making Maverick's olive skin glow. He's about to come back to me, but I stop him.

"Pants," I say, my gaze going to the bulge that needs to be released.

"I thought you said you were only bossy on the dance floor."

"I thought you said this was a lesson."

He hones in on my chest. "Bra."

I push up on my elbows to reach the hooks at my back, yet focusing on Maverick unb.u.t.toning his jeans. It's so freaking hot I can't stop wiggling. I throw off my bra and watch Maverick's mouth form an O at the sight.

"You have no idea how f.u.c.king s.e.xy you are right now," he says.

"Underwear." I lick my lips in antic.i.p.ation.

Maverick grins. "Shorts off, leave the panties on. I want to remove those myself."

I fumble with the b.u.t.ton and zipper while Maverick hooks his fingers into the elastic of his and bends. He meets me halfway with my shorts and finishes gliding them down my legs. He prowls over me, the tip of his tongue touching the skin just above my panties and moving up my stomach. Palms ma.s.sage my b.r.e.a.s.t.s, and when he finally makes it to my mouth, I'm dying.

I feel him between my legs, rubbing up against me, and any inhibitions that may have lingered disappear. I arch my hips into him, despising the thin piece of material separating us.

Maverick kisses me like I'm his, and for tonight, I am. I'm wholly, completely his.

His mouth dips to my neck, then my nipples, and I swear I'm close to climaxing. I cling to his back, gather his hair into my hands, and lean my head back in pleasure.

I don't think my once-blank canvas can handle more scarlet.

But then it does.

"Are you wet for me?" he asks, finally sliding my panties down my thighs.

I'm breathing too hard to form a coherent answer, so I nod, because I am, I know I am. As I do, a warm finger slips between my lips and delves inside me. I exhale a gasp, because oh. My. G.o.d.

"Do you want me, Alieya?" he asks, his voice low.

Again, all I can do is nod.

He pumps his finger in and out of me, his thumb gently circling my c.l.i.t. I'm going to die, right here, right now. Death by pleasure.

"Maverick," I breathe out.

He must know I'm close, because he rolls on a condom and lifts my bottom so we can fit together.

"Say my name again," he says.

I swallow. "Maverick."

He pushes inside me, and my eyelids squeeze shut at the sensation. He lowers himself over me, his mouth meeting mine again. I kiss him through his thrusts, matching the rhythm he's set for us.

"You feel amazing," he murmurs.

"You do too."

Our gazes meet, his irises catching the final beams of sunlight coming through the windows. There's something in there I can't describe, like it's not meant to be there. I want to dwell on it, figure it out, but the pleasure he's creating swells, and I can't keep my eyes open.

My body responds to him, my hips tilting up so he can delve deeper. He speeds up.

I cling to him, moaning and needing him deeper, deeper until I forget we're two separate people. I'm on the edge, desperate to fall over it. I can't hold on any longer. One more thrust, and I cry out in a climax that rips through my body.

It overtakes me, mind, body, and soul. Splashes of scarlet cover the whole canvas. And when Maverick's groans entwine with mine, I'm close to coming again.

I'm shaking as I find Maverick's lips. I need him like air. He kisses me, slowly thrusting into me in our afterglow. That's what it is too-afterglow, a beautiful golden color that accentuates the now scarlet-covered image.

I open my eyes to find him studying me. The corner of his mouth lifts. Fingers brush the hair off my cheek. He's still breathing hard when he slides out of me.

I'm disappointed. Already I miss him.

"Don't move," he murmurs, getting off of the bed. "I'll be right back."

The light to the bathroom clicks on. I'm still reeling, but I also suddenly realize I'm naked. And that I just had s.e.x with a man I've only known for three days and won't see again after three more.

The afterglow wears off fast when my brain kicks on. I shouldn't think. I should just enjoy the moment, but- I sit up and look for my clothes. They're scattered on the floor, and I don't see my s.h.i.+rt. The bathroom faucet turns off, which means Maverick will probably be back soon. Whatever time I had to get dressed has pa.s.sed, so I turn down the blankets and slip between the sheets, bringing the duvet up to my neck. I'm not Finley. One-night stands are not my thing.

The bathroom light switches off, and Maverick emerges, still naked. I look away. His body is perfect, hard and smooth in all the right places, and my own remembers his too well. My nipples stiffen, begging to be touched again.

"Covering up is not allowed," Maverick says, pulling the blankets off me. Instinctively, I cross an arm over my chest.

Maverick nuzzles against my neck as he removes my arm. His breath flows over my ear, and pinp.r.i.c.ks dive into my abdomen. "I don't think so."

He fills his palm with a breast. Kisses my neck before he moves down and latches onto my nipple. His tongue is magic, and I feel my eyes rolling back as I relax into the pillow. My thoughts are disappearing again, replaced by the rising desire Maverick controls.

I'm clay and he's the potter.

He works my body again, moving slow and exploring me with a delicate touch. Fingertips glide over skin, trace my curves, and circle my most delicate parts. I arch my back into him, giving him access to all of me.

He builds me, making me want him all over again. He caresses my slit from the outside in.

"So slick," he says.

Maverick makes love to me again, and when we finish, we're panting hard through our kisses. Maverick's smile is tired when he flashes it to me. Tired, beautiful, and content.

He falls onto his back and opens an arm to me. "Come here."

I do, laying my head against his chest. He trails his fingertips along my back. Moonlight now s.h.i.+nes through balcony doors, softly illuminating the room, but all I can see is blue. Cornflower blue brushed over scarlet-serenity.

Twice in one night is a new high for me, one I ride until it begins to fade. Maverick's breaths even out. I lift my head to look at him. Long, dark eyelashes flutter slightly in sleep. He's peaceful, stunning, like the ocean on our first night together. And I wonder if tonight will be our last.

Maverick worked all day to get me in bed, and here I am. I caved so fast, so easily. I barely know Maverick. Like Finley, did he have a goal for one-night stands during this trip? It is spring break after all. It's what his friends came here to do.

Chris's words echo in my mind: "No one but me will ever want you. You're lucky I stay."

But in the end, even Chris didn't stay. What does that say about me?

I look at Maverick again. Gorgeous, kind, unbelievably caring. Why would someone like him want to be with someone like me for something other than s.e.x? He got what he wanted, and I got- No. I can't stay here. I have to go.

I roll away from him, keeping my eyes on him because how can I not? Emotion swells in my chest at the sight of him. I have all these f.u.c.ked-up feelings that I need to sort out. I find my clothes, including my s.h.i.+rt under the desk, and get dressed.

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The Story Of Us Part 8 summary

You're reading The Story Of Us. This manga has been translated by Updating. Author(s): D. Nichole King. Already has 498 views.

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