“She always makes a big plate of sandwiches and leaves them in the fridge. We all just help ourselves.”
After months of listening to Maverick talk about his family’s farm, Ella was convinced the place was heaven on earth, and she wished there was some way she could see it. Not that she ever would. Maverick’s family made wine, and they had recently started a brewery as well. Alcohol was the devil’s brew, as far as Dad was concerned.
Once they finished eating, they packed the trash back into the picnic basket Maverick had snuck out of his mom’s pantry, then shifted closer to each other, watching the river slowly flowing by.
“It’s so pretty here,” Ella said. “And peaceful.”
“And private,” Maverick added, wiggling his eyebrows playfully.
Ella knew what he meant by that, and she was here for it. Since the beginning of summer, Maverick had shown up at the library at lunchtime every day without fail. And just like at school, they’d found the perfect quiet corner for kissing.
Ella turned toward him, his lips finding hers in an instant. His tongue stroked hers, his hot breath sweet from the sodas they’d just drunk. Ella wrapped her arms around his neck, losing herself in his incredible kisses. After several minutes, Maverick gently eased her down until she was lying on the thick blanket on her back. He lay down beside her, continuing the kisses as his hands, which had been gripping her waist, began to roam.
Ella drew in a sharp, excited breath when one of his hands slipped beneath her shirt, stroking the bare skin of her stomach. Ella broke the kiss, unable to breathe, his ministrations evoking sensations she’d never once experienced.
Sex was a sin.
Those words had been pounded into her brain since the day she’d reached puberty, her father continually preaching what good girls did and did not do. Sex, according to her father, wasn’t to be used for pleasure but rather for reproduction. And that didn’t happen until after marriage.
Unbeknownst to her dad, Ella had formed much different opinions on sex after reading young adult romance books. She’d plowed through countless titles by Jenny Han, Ali Hazelwood, Rainbow Rowell, and more. Every single book convinced her that, Hell be damned, she was not saving herself until marriage if an opportunity like, well, this one presented itself.
Ella didn’t question for a moment that what she felt for Maverick was love. And while she didn’t know what the future held for either of them, she wanted to be with him. Desperately.
As their kisses continued to grow more heated, so did her need for…God, anything.
So when Maverick cupped her breast with only the thin cotton of her bra between, she couldn’t hold back her body’s reaction. Her hips tilted upward, her panties suddenly damp.
“God,” she breathed, when he squeezed her breast, then slipped his fingers underneath her bra to tickle and toy with her hard nipple. “Maverick,” she gasped, overwhelmed by an uncontrollable arousal.
Maverick had confessed a couple months earlier that he’d never had sex, and at the time, that had comforted her, made her feel at less of a disadvantage. She could see she’d been wrong.
Maverick might not be experienced, but he certainly seemed to know what he was doing.
For six months, they’d done nothing more than steal kisses in the corners of libraries. And as those kisses became more heated, so had their teenage hormones. Every single time Maverick kissed her, Ella’s desire grew until, now, she literally felt as if she could spontaneously combust.
“You’re so beautiful,” Maverick murmured against her cheek, his fingers working their magic on her breast and nipple.
Ella pressed her legs together, needing…something. Anything.
“I want…” she whispered, stopping, uncertain if she should say more.
Maverick lifted his head, piercing her with those gorgeous dark brown eyes of his. “I want you too, Firefly,” he said. His hand slipped out of her bra, even as his gaze still held hers captive. He drew his fingers down her stomach…then cupped her pussy over her pants.
Ella’s hips thrust against it, almost of their own free will, seeking the stimulation. She was wearing lightweight linen pants, as shorts were forbidden in her house. The material was thin enough that she feared Maverick might be able to feel how hot and wet she was.
“Ella,” he said. “I love kissing you. And if that’s all you want?—”
“It isn’t,” she said quickly, cutting him off. “I love you, Maverick.” He’d stolen her heart that day in the hallway, when he’d stopped to help her pick up her books, and he’d tightened his grip on it with every sweet word, every kind gesture, every time he proved that she was exactly what he wanted, even despite the limits imposed on her by her dad.
He gave her the same wide grin that always appeared whenever she told him how she felt. Always acting as if it was the first time she’d said those three little words, and they were some amazing gift she was bestowing upon him.
“Tomorrow,” he said, with the slightest bit of hesitance, something she rarely heard from him. “If I pick you up for lunch, we could…” He paused.
“We could…” she prompted breathlessly, hoping he was about to ask what she thought he was.
“We could go to one of the cabins on my family’s farm. They’re completely private, and no one would even know we were there. Maybe we could…” He let his almost-bashful shrug finish that sentence.
“Explore more?”