This deleted scene comes from the book MAKE ME HOT (Bayshore #5). It is strongly recommended that you have read the book prior to enjoying this deleted scene!
“What’s big and hard and has cum in it?”
Kru’s sudden question makes Maverick and I pause, our beers poised halfway to our mouths. Kru had recently revealed he was a secret compendium of food jokes from throughout all of time—much like the Library of Congress contains every publication known to the civilized world, except the Food Joke Library of Kru.
“Uhhh,” I begin, wracking my brain, trying to think of anything remotely different than the obvious dick-tastic answer.
Maverick makes a fist and taps his mouth gently, deep in thought. “God, I feel like this one is going to be so dumb when you say it.”
“Cucumber,” Kru says, and bursts out laughing when Maverick punches him in the arm.
We’ve been sitting here on the pool patio for hours now. The production crew’s sponsored dinner has come and gone in a blur; now we’re in the second phase of the evening, which is where we all get tipsy and happy under the seductive cover of nightfall, pool chlorine and tiki torches mingling in the air. We’re even happier now because A.) Maverick and I having so much sex I think we need to contact a church and repent and B.) Davie and his crew of goons have learned to keep to themselves on nights like these, which means no risk of drunken brawls or needless insults.
All in all, it’s a great night to lead up to the next challenge tomorrow. I’m feeling the usual jitters, but all this laughter and good energy around me reminds me to just sit back and enjoy it. It could all end tomorrow—literally.
Maverick and Kru are looking at each other like they’re plotting another round of ridiculous pun games, which I take as my cue.
“I’m gonna head to the hot tub,” I tell Mav, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “See you over there later?”
He nods, pinching my ass cheek as I walk away. I’ve been wearing my bikini for hours in anticipation of this moment: when the night gets chilly enough to warrant the extremely hot water. I look over my shoulder when I’m halfway to the hot tub; Maverick is still watching me, his blue gaze as powerful as an electric shock.
A shiver runs up my spine. I’ve been titillated by those eyes for years, but only now is the full effect of this man reaching an overdue crescendo. I’m smiling as I reach the little alcove where the hot tub sits. It’s been abandoned most the night—of course, who wants to hang out in 100-degree water when it’s been pushing ninety all day—but my muscles could use the relaxation after my punishing workout that morning. Besides, I don’t mind being able to spy on Maverick from afar. Anything he does is fascinating. I could watch him sort a load of laundry and still be entranced.
He and Kru continue chatting near the bar, occasional bursts of laughter punctuating the chill patio. Indie rock music is piped in through a sound system, lending a funky, college vibe to this hotel in the heart of Indianapolis. After a while, though, Maverick’s gaze keeps returning to me. Making our eyes meet across the lounge chairs and beyond the sparkling pool. And then he tells Kru something I can’t hear and he starts to head my way.
My nipples are immediately hard; I can’t even lie about that. Just seeing him saunter my way has me halfway to panting. His black tee is stretched across his wide chest and those lean, powerful biceps. Black swim trunks cling to his muscled thighs. When he pulls open the little gate separating the hot tub from the rest of the pool patio, a smirk tugs at his lips.
“Got room for one more?”
“I suppose,” I tell him, wondering if he can tell just how much I’m aching for him already. It’s been mere hours since we last boned—in the hotel room to start our day—but it might as well be years. I squeeze my thighs together, desperate for him to get nearer.
He tugs his shirt off, revealing the flat, muscled planes of his chest. I watch as he steps into the water, grimacing a bit at the temperature change. Then he sinks into the water and floats toward me.
The sexual tension is thick; I know it; he knows it. We’re staring at each other with the kind of mischievous looks that precede something wild, like having sex in broad daylight, or robbing a car.
“Are you a burger?” he asks suddenly.
I snort. “You tell me.”
“Cuz I’d slap those buns,” he finishes, and the laughter rolls out of me.
“Stocked up on the Kru jokes, I see.”
“Shit, girl. I’ve got a whole arsenal now.”
“Well are you gonna slap these buns or not?” I ask. “I’m dying over here.”
He settles into the sunken seat next to me and then grabs me by the hips, pulling me toward him. I giggle as I float his way. The triple digit heat of the water is no match for the feel of his hands on my hips. He guides me toward his lap and I settle on top of him, my legs floating above his, the roil of the water around us only amplifying the tension.
“Okay,” he murmurs into my ear, wrapping his arms around my waist while the underwater lighting switches from neon green to pink. “Much better now.”
I lean against him, letting my head drop back onto his shoulder. This, right here, isn’t simply better. It’s bliss. My gaze drifts up toward the black sky, star dappled even though we’re in the city. He pushes his palms up and down over my thighs.
“Mmmm.” There’s hunger in Mav’s gritty rumble. The same hunger that he awakens in me damn near every time we lock eyes.
“Careful there,” I murmur, as his lazy trails up and down my legs begin to venture inward. “You’re skating on thin ice.”
“There is no ice anywhere in the vicinity when you are sitting on my lap like this,” he growls into my ear, jerking me at the hips so that my ass grinds into his hard-on. Everything inside me clenches with anticipation. We’ve had sex probably twenty-five times since the dam broke between us in Chicago, but it’s like I need it a million more times before it could be enough.
“Fine,” I concede. “Skating on…fire, then.” My nipples are diamond-hard as he massages his hands over my upper thighs. I keep a watch over the pool area while his touch drifts ever closer to the desperate, aching core of me. Everybody is gathered around the outdoor bar, or scattered around lounge chairs enjoying drinks while buried in conversation. We are tucked into our own private bubbling universe over here. Which is good, because Maverick takes that moment to slip his fingers underneath the fabric of my bathing suit bottoms.
My breath hitches and I clutch at his sturdy forearms. He runs his fingertips over my swollen lips, grazing over the area that craves his touch the most.
“Hey Lettie,” he rasps out at my ear. The sound of his voice alone could take me to orgasm. There’s something so sexy about his primal, lust-fueled rasp.
“Do you like jalapenos?”
An odd question for a very non-culinary moment. I writhe against his hovering hand, urging it to make contact with the sweet spot. “Uh…yeah?”
“Because in a minute, I’m about to be jalapeno pussy.”
It takes a moment for the meaning to register, but when it hits, the laughter rolls out of me. I collapse against him, helpless with delight and love for this man. He takes that opportunity to finally make contact with my clit, taking it between thumb and forefinger and squeezing it with just enough pressure that I yelp.
“Shhh,” he says into my ear. “We don’t want the others to know what we’re doing.”
“Are you—” I start, but I can’t finish as he begins massaging me. My core is clenched and aching for it, which means that all propriety has gone out the window. I don’t just want it. I fucking need it, no matter who might be lurking nearby.
“Yes,” he confirms, though I’ve not technically asked a question. It’s okay. I don’t have to. We both know what I was going to ask.
His fingers slip and slide over the swollen bud of my clit. I grit my teeth in an effort to be as quiet as possible, but the occasional whimper and moan slips out of me. He tugs at my earlobe with his teeth, grinding against me from below. His cock is rock-hard against my ass cheeks. And hell, if we weren’t tucked into the corner of a hotel pool patio, I’d be sinking on top of him already.
Maverick picks up the slow but steady rhythm around my clit that he knows I like best. A week into this, and he knows my body better than my ex ever did after years together. I buck against his hand, eager to slip over the precipice and into a mind-blowing orgasm, but loving the sensations of the journey. The hot water is an unexpected plus; everything feels more alive, more erotic somehow. Or maybe that’s just the threat of the unsuspecting people nearby.
“You know how hard I’d be eating your pussy right now,” Maverick says into my ear, “if I had you laid out on our bed?”
A warm shudder runs through me. I can’t even find my voice; I can only nod.
“I love watching you come,” he grunts, squeezing his free arm over my chest to hold me in place better. “Feeling you come around my tongue, or my cock.”
A breathy sigh escapes me. God, I’m close now. He knows how hot it is when he talks to me like that.
“I could fucking eat you up, Lettie.” His voice is a growl now as he tweaks and massages my clit. My pussy aches to be filled by him, in the way only he can, but not now. Not here. Not in this chlorinated water. “For breakfast, lunch and dinner.”
“And snacks.” My voice is a squeak as wave of pleasure pushes me dangerously close to the edge.
“Your whole fucking body is a snack.” He presses damp kisses up the length of my neck, grinding into my ass as he plays me like an instrument. He moves his arm from across my chest so that he can tweak a nipple furtively, grabbing my entire breast in his hand without skipping a beat.
And maybe it’s the fact that he’s an expert in bringing me to orgasm already, or the addition of the roiling sex water around us, or maybe just the added dimension of the slippery neck kisses, but my orgasm begins to leak out of me. Slowly at first, but then blinding and hot. His arm goes around me tighter, like bracing me against the onslaught. I swallow my groan, eyes pinched shut as the pleasure makes sticky streaks through my veins.
He holds me tight in his arms, his middle finger circling lazily around my throbbing clit as my orgasm slowly recedes to a dull roar. I’ve never felt more secure. More understood. Hell, I’ve never been this happy before—ever.
I love this man. I love this man.
It’s the only thought in my head as he kisses the side of my face while my body unclenches and relaxes into the bliss.
I’ve loved this man for longer than I realized.
And the longer this romance blossoms between us, the truth becomes clear.
I’ll love him forever.
You can read (or re-read) MAKE ME HOT on Amazon…
Or start with book #1, MAKE ME LOSE!
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