The Fall (Rules of Play Book 4) Page 8

  Heavy breathing. Then the unmistakable sound of a fist hitting a wall.

  Panic surges through me. The darkness in the hall scurries off, the colors incredibly vivid with the rush of adrenaline sweeping through me. Something is wrong.

  “August. August!” I’m pounding on the door. Fear like I’ve never felt before sweeps my feet out from under me, and I’m floundering. He wouldn’t do anything drastic, right? But I don’t know what happened to make him so upset. He’s not thinking clearly.

  When the skin splits on my knuckles, I draw back.

  It’s an old house. There might be one of those pins that can be inserted into the lock.

  Reaching up to the doorframe, I skim my fingers across the dusty wood. They catch on a small piece of metal, which I pick up and hold into the light. This should do it. I insert the pick into the lock and wiggle it until a latch gives way. The knob turns.

  “I’m coming in,” I say, and push open the door.

  August perches on the edge of his mattress, body curled over his knees. He holds one arm against his chest as if he’s injured. Blood coats his knuckles. The skin is busted open, all frayed edges, strips of torn skin. He doesn’t seem to notice. He’s quiet. Too quiet. Like he’s stopped breathing. My heart stops for a horrible second before restarting when I catch sight of the rise and fall of his back.

  He’s okay. He’s alive. You’re overreacting.

  “Hey.” Closing the door behind me, I approach slowly. His shoulders are bunched all the way up to his ears. Protection. A shell he can hide inside.

  My hand reaches for him, then stops at the last moment. He might not want to be touched. I take a seat beside him on the bed. The mattress dips with my weight, gravity tugging me toward him. Dried sweat sticks his jersey to his frame.

  “Go away, Maverick.” Flatly. “You don’t want to be here right now.”

  Interesting choice of words. He says I don’t want to be here. But does he want me here?

  “You looked upset. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

  He’s shaking. It rattles the metal mattress frame. A trickle of blood winds down his wounded hand and drops to the rug. He still wears his cleats. His legs are smeared with dirt and grass.

  Beaten down. That’s what August looks like.

  “Did something happen?” I whisper.

  His head snaps up. His face: closed, a snarl of tension. He bares his teeth like an animal. “I said go away, Maverick,” he spits. “Get out and go.”

  August shoves me off the bed. I hit the floor with a slap. He stands over me, hurt welling in his eyes, and fear, and above all, shame. He gulps, lowers himself back down while I scoot away. I know a wounded animal when I see one. And that’s what he is, isn’t he? Wounded. Someone hurt him, and I want to fix it.

  Crawling over, I kneel before him, touch his chin gently, lifting it so his gaze meets mine. “I’m not leaving you.”

  The trembling grows worse. I can almost see the hairline fractures splintering through him. Then the larger cracks, the faults that shift and collapse, no longer able to hold their weight. It feels like the most natural thing in the world to tug his head against my chest, wrap my arms around him, and hold him tight.

  Chapter 12

  August

  Being held in Maverick’s arms feels like I’m caught in a hurricane. Winds whipping this way and that, and the cold, hard drive of rain against my skin, like a punishment, and God, the fear, the fear, the fear.

  Fear that I’m not good enough.

  Fear that I’m expendable.

  Fear that I’ll be the type of man someone like Maverick needs.

  “August.” Mav’s murmur vibrates against my ear as he presses his mouth to the rim. One hand cups the back of my head. The other rests against my lower back, then begins tracing soothing lines up and down my spine. My eyes want so badly to close. I can pretend this all means something. “Talk to me. What’s wrong?”

  If I tell him, will he leave? Walk away, shut the door, wall me out? I don’t think he will, but this is a test and I’m unsure of the outcome. The very first time we met, I should have told the truth. But there’s so much feeling inside me. It has nowhere to go but out.

  “I lied,” I say.

  His hand pauses on my back for a moment, then resumes its stroking. “About what?” he asks calmly. His touch is firm and strong.

  He doesn’t sound angry. I let it give me the strength to move forward with my confession.

  “The reason I’m at Notre Dame and not Denver.” Maybe if I keep my eyes closed long enough, I can pretend today didn’t happen. “I didn’t voluntarily leave Denver. I was kicked off the team.” Breath held, I wait.

  Maverick’s heart beats steadily against my ear. It’s doesn’t speed up, and it doesn’t slow. It’s constant. Like the sun rising and falling, like the rotation of the earth. He is an anchor tethered to me. I feel myself settle, calm. This is exactly what I need.

  “Why were you kicked off the team?” he asks.

  “The short answer is I beat up one of my teammates after he sexually assaulted my friend.” I press my face deeper into his chest and inhale the scent of his skin, the faint laundry detergent. His fingers work through my hair, preening me like I’m a bird. It sends tingles all along my scalp, and I fight the need to groan and arch.

  “Sounds to me like he deserved it,” is his reasonable reply.

  I shake my head, over and over, until his hand tightens on the back of my neck, forcing me still. “I have anger issues. In case that wasn’t obvious.”

  Maverick sighs and dips his mouth to my ear again. “We all have problems, August. You think my life is all glitter and rainbows?” At the first nibble from his teeth, my stomach drops… and drops, like I’ve stepped off the edge of a cliff. He worries the lobe between his teeth before sucking it into his mouth and nuzzling my hair.

  “No.” The word is a tremor, unstable.

  “Mm.” He continues sucking on my neck, and fuck if I’m going to push him away. He feels good against me, a hard body and long limbs. “I’m trying to learn how to live my best life with this weight of grief hanging over me. It’s not easy. I have to work through it day by day.”

  My arms come around him. I press us more tightly together, tucking my head into his neck and slipping my arms under his shirt. His skin is smooth and hot, like velvet warmed from the sun. The muscles are slender, yet still strong. “You’re right. I’m sorry. It’s stupid compared to what you’re going through—”

  “I didn’t say that,” he says stiffly. “Don’t say that. Don’t even think it. Your problems are equally as important as mine. No battle is more important than another. They’re different, that’s all.”

  I don’t know what to say to that, so I say nothing.

  He squeezes me tighter, effectively cocooning me in his warmth. Even when he’s angry, he’s not truly angry, you know? He forces me to listen when I don’t want to. He reveals to me important truths.

  “I want to take you somewhere,” Maverick says. “Will you come with me?”

  Tilting back my head, I take in this stunning man. Worry lurks in those hazel depths, and his hands are so gentle on me. It takes everything in me not to fracture. I’m strong. I’ve always felt the need to be strong, because what happens when I’m not? For the first time in what feels like forever, I know someone else will catch the pieces if I crumble. And I do allow myself to crumble, just a little bit. The relief is instantaneous.

  I squeeze his hand in mine and even go so far as to lift it against my mouth, dropping a kiss to his palm.

  I say yes.

  I’m still not familiar enough with making my way around town, so I have no idea where Mav is taking us at one in the morning. I sit in the passenger seat of Maverick’s car and watch the world spin past the windows. Cold air fills the cabin. It’s quiet. The hum of ti
res on asphalt, the roar of the engine as we top a hill and descend into a densely wooded area, the road cutting a pathway through. I have half a mind to ask if Mav wants me to turn on the radio, but I don’t. Silence doesn’t have to be a bad thing. Space. It’s something we all need.

  Fifteen minutes after leaving the house, Mav turns onto a dirt road. Rocks rattle against the underside of the car. We bump along, heading deeper into the trees.

  In the darkened interior of the car, I look at Mav in profile. He turns his head, enough for the light to catch his eyes. They gleam. Desire is sharp in his gaze. It’s like he knows what I’m thinking. He senses the change in the air, as I do. My pulse feels like it’s trying to take flight.

  I stare straight because he’s too beautiful and I’m afraid I’m going to do something idiotic if I keep looking at him, like jump the center console. Then we’d crash into a tree and I can’t risk a broken bone. But, God. My hands itch to fill themselves with his flesh. His hard length, the taut ass checks. More than anything though, I want his mouth. I want to sink so deeply into it there’s no distinguishing our individual bodies.

  My cock strains. I shift in the seat. His attention slips away and drops to my crotch where the evidence of my arousal bulges. The sound he makes is strangled. I swallow and think of baby animals.

  We park between two large trees. Mav turns off the car, and we sit in the dark quiet. My head rests against the window. I hear Maverick’s breathing. Does is sound shallower than before, or is that my imagination?

  Without saying a word, we get out of the car. Taking my hand, Mav leads me through a moonlit path. A carpet of leaves. Hanging, draping vines and arched branches painted silver in the moonlight. The crickets weave a song of purity. The wind coos, whispering through the brush. It feels like time stands still and we walk a world that is here for us alone.

  A few minutes later, we reach a lake with moonlight pooling on the water, reflecting back the full moon above.

  “Wow.” I stand beside Maverick and take it all in. “Where are we?”

  As he stares straight ahead, his eyes lose focus. “This used to be Kaylie’s favorite place.”

  I suck in a sharp breath as pain rams my chest like a fist. Yes, I can see it now. A place for lovers. Intimate, secluded, blanketed in peace. This, I realize, is a place for love.

  My voice comes out gruff. “Why did you bring me here?” My eyes snap to his. I need to see his face. I want to see everything he’s feeling. I don’t want him to hide from me. I’m too vulnerable right now. I didn’t expect to feel this way about someone so soon, but I can’t pretend, I can’t.

  “Because this place is magic. Because it makes me believe good things can happen. Because I want to share something with you. Because you make me feel alive.” His fingers twine tighter around mine.

  It sounds like truth, but I can’t believe it. Or I’m too afraid to believe it. That’s the trouble. “If it’s Kaylie’s spot, your spot, it should stay that way.” Mentally, I start pulling away.

  Mav curls a hand into the front of my shirt and jerks me closer, forcing my attention back on him. His mouth presses into a line. “Stop. Right now, whatever you’re doing. Stop. I’ve never shown this place to anyone, but I felt compelled to do so with you. I’m not trying to prove a point by bringing you here. I just… want to share it with you.” His voice softens. “So that you can see the beauty in it as well. That’s all.”

  When I look again at the lake and the trees bordering it on all sides, I see it from new eyes. It’s beautiful. Probably the quietest place I’ve ever been. No city sounds, only the chirping crickets and hiss of the wind, clacking branches. It feels close as a heartbeat, and I take the feeling inside myself.

  “August.” He says my name with so much anguish that I experience an answering pain in my chest. “Tell me what’s happening between us.”

  Whatever it is, it’s frightening. Enormous. Too good.

  At least the questions reveals Mav feels it too. Ever since we met, it feels like we’ve been sliding against one another, but nothing something different happens. It’s like we finally lock into place.

  “Are you afraid?” I dare to cup his cheek, my eyes perusing the sculpted bones of his face and the feminine eyelashes, the lips that are caught between a grimace and a frown.

  He nods.

  He’s lost and confused, but he doesn’t have to be. I can anchor him, bring him back to the harbor, safe. Just like he did to me hours ago. “Don’t be.”

  We kiss because we can’t help ourselves. Mav ducks his head to mine, his eyes bright and open, the desire clear as day, and I tilt my head to meet him. Our lips touch, part, and slip together, like a lock and key. With Mav leaning against the tree, it allows me to press into his body, molding his curves and angles with mine. The movement startles him. He jumps under my hands.

  I pull away. “Okay?”

  His lips glisten. He breathes through his mouth, which hovers only a few inches away from mine. After a moment, he nods and kisses me again.

  My groan hits the air as his tongue slips into my mouth and probes softly. It’s a kiss of exploration, a newness, a softness. He runs the tip of his tongue across the front of my teeth, and when I make a motion to bite it, he tucks it back into his own mouth with a soft laugh. The laugh drifts into a sigh when I coast my hands up his warm chest, feeling for every bump and dip, my palms grazing his hard nipples. Mav must like that, because he presses even closer to me, his back arching off the tree.

  “You taste so good,” he manages through our kisses. They’re still slow and languid, but deep, so deep. “Like candy.”

  I snort and have to pull away. “Candy. Really.”

  The skin around his hazel eyes crinkles. His irises look brown in this light, but I’ve seen them up close enough times to know of the gold and green flecks that appear at certain times of the day, the color always changing. “Yeah.”

  “What kind of candy?” My fingers find their way into his hair. His eyelids slip shut, and he bows his head like a horse to a yoke.

  “Snickers, obviously. Only the best candy out there.”

  “Mm.” God, his hair shouldn’t be this soft. I move to his shoulders and massage the muscles there. “I have to say, I’m a Reese’s fan myself.”

  “Reese’s are second best.”

  Not sure how to best broach the subject, so I might as well blurt it out. “I want to try something with you. Will you let me?”

  Though Maverick is relaxed against the tree, I sense a sharpening in him. A slight curiosity. “What kind of thing?”

  I laugh and scratch my chin. Of course he’d ask that question. Maverick is a man who wants to know things. “A sexual thing.” I gather the rest of my courage. “I want to take you into my mouth. I want to know what you taste like.” The stubble on his jaw abrades my fingertips as they trail across it. “Will you let me?”

  Chapter 13

  Maverick

  August’s question lingers in the air like a fog that’s yet to be burned up by the sun. We’re standing so close. I taste the mint of his breath, can spot the flecks of darker emerald in his frigid green eyes. His pale, strawberry blond eyelashes curling upward, almost white at the tips. He has a nice nose. I’ve never noticed that before. There’s also a mole on the end of his chin, small and round, like a nut.

  My heart thunders. My palms are sweaty. And still I don’t answer his question. Do I want him? Yes. But it’s not so simple. In wanting him, that means letting go of the love I have for Kaylie, and I’ve carried that love with me for years. Do I have enough room in my heart to let someone else in? At the moment, it feels like it won’t fit, but I’m trying. God, I am trying.

  August is good. He is so good and it sucks that he doesn’t realize this. The thought of his head between my legs and his warm mouth latched onto me sends blood rushing to my dick, plumping it up even more. I�
�m so hard I’m afraid I’ll pierce through the fabric of my pants.

  Pressing my mouth to his, I draw out his pleasure like a fine wine and swallow it down. He’s temporarily distracted, and winds his arms around my neck. We’re of similar height, but his body is powerful with thick muscle. His hands are wide and strong. Gentle.

  “Yes, August,” I whisper.

  He goes still and pulls away. “You’re sure?” He searches my gaze.

  Another kiss. “Yes.”

  The corners of his mouth curve upward. It’s almost shy, his smile.

  Then he drops to his knees.

  The sight of his bent head threads anticipation through me. It pools in my limbs and draws everything inside me tighter. I’m on pins and needles with every brush of his hand against my skin as he works to undo the button of my jeans. My stomach muscles flinch. I’m so ready to have his mouth on me.

  He pulls down the zipper, then stops, staring at my denim-covered bulge. The tip throbs. I feel a bead of precum glide down the head, under it, creeping down the shaft before collecting in my pubic hair. I’m leaking copious amount of precum and he hasn’t even touched me yet.

  A rumbly sound comes from August’s chest. He lifts the hem of my shirt, revealing my stomach inch by inch. The muscles in his forearms shift with the motion. His skin is incredibly pale. Almost effervescent in the moonlight.

  He places the first kiss to the right of my belly button and happy trail. I gasp. I wasn’t expecting that. My skin buzzes from the heat of his mouth, and I slide my fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp to calm myself as well as give him pleasure too.

  He groans and lets his head drop forward. “Feels good.”

  I work my fingers behind his ears. Lower, to his neck. There, I massage the taut muscles, and gradually, they loosen beneath my hands.

  “You trying to distract me?” he mumbles.

  I’m smiling, though he can’t see it. “I like touching you.”

  “Keep doing that and I’m never going to suck you off.” Another groan. “A little to the left. Right… there.” He bellows like a horse and leans his head against my thigh, rubbing his nose back and forth, back and forth. “You have magic hands.” He shifts his nose inward, toward my inner thigh. Then higher. His breath wafts over my steel dick, and I feel it through the denim. Now it’s my turn to groan.