Page 11 of Unconventional


  I sat back in my chair. “I wasn’t worrying about owing you. Just not wanting you to feel like you had to. I think I’m going to get a part time job when I get back to school.” I looked at my menu. “I’d like the ravioli.”

  “In the vodka sauce it’s like heaven in your mouth.” He took a sip of his water. “I don’t have to do anything. That’s the truth of my life. I’m a rich college student with a father serving time. I’m pretty much given a wide berth to make personal decisions that people don’t push on too much.”

  I didn’t know if this was something I should comment on or not. Still, he’d said it. I couldn’t just ignore it. “That’s not how I see you. I mean, granted we don’t know each other that well.”

  The drinks arrived, and we ordered our food. Maven took a sip of his wine. “How do you see me?”

  “Smart. Strong. Kind. A natural leader. Considerate. Generous. Funny. Outgoing. Insightful. Empathetic. You’re always watching everything around you. You’re good at reading people. You don’t wait to see what’s going to happen, you jump into action.”

  He held up his hand to stop me. “I’m pretty much how I described myself to you.”

  I took a long drink of my water. Who was I to tell Maven who he was? No one really knew me, not even myself, particularly.

  He set down his drink. “Fuck.”

  I winced. “I’ve ruined dinner. I’m…” I wasn’t supposed to apologize to him, so I quit halfway through that statement.

  “No.” He reached across the small table to touch my chin. “I want to be all those things. I want to not go to jail. I want to not fuck up the lives of everyone I encounter.”

  My heart beat really fast. Maven’s eyes were big. I’d really struck a nerve. “I can’t see you doing any of those things. That’s not your story. That’s not how it plays out.”

  “I really want to kiss you right now.”

  I leaned forward and moved his wine out of the way, and he took that as the consent it was. He kissed me, gently and then firmer. I closed my eyes. It wasn’t a long caress, but it lit my blood on fire. He pulled back, his voice low. “I’m so happy you walked by on the street.”

  I was too.

  We separated, and the food came soon after. It was early and they must have wanted us out to seat the next crew that would come after us. I took a bite of my ravioli. Maven had been right; it was heaven in my mouth. But all I could think about was that kiss and what would happen next.

  We were quiet while we ate. I brought my gaze over to the other patrons in the restaurant. I had a hard time keeping my mind where it belonged, and other people’s stories were one of my favorite distractions.

  Maven followed my gaze. “Is he doing something interesting?”

  Heat traveled up my neck. “Not really. I have… a problematic mind. I think something went wrong when I was being formed. Um, I can’t help it, really, but I silently make up stories for people around me. Sometimes I even do that when I’m concentrating on something else. Like I can actually have more than one thing happening in my mind.”

  There, now he could understand exactly what being friends with me entailed.

  Maven sipped his wine. He’d been slow drinking it. When he stopped, he licked his lips, and it was everything I could do to not pull him to me for another kiss. The only problem was we had dishes on the table now.

  “So what’s he doing? The man there, in this story you’ve invented for him?”

  I couldn’t speak for a second. “You want me to tell you what story I made up?”

  “Yes. Completely. In your not screwed up brain.” He nodded toward the man. “Tell me.”

  “See how he hasn’t taken off his coat? Immediately, I think that he’s on the run.” As soon as I said it I wished I hadn’t. Maven was going to think this was dumb. He was probably expecting insightful remarks, and I was giving him fiction.

  He nodded, furrowing his brow. “Because it really is not cold in here considering it’s December. It’s a little hot, actually.”

  “Right. So he might have to run. I mean, in real life that’s a job issue or a family concern. Or he has to get to the airport. In my mind, it’s something different.”

  Maven steepled his hands. “Like what?”

  “Spy novel. He’s really here listening in on the couple over there who work for the Russians. He’ll have to dash when they do, so he has to be ready. He plays with his food, pays early.” I shrugged.

  “Giovanna, I love how your mind works.”

  That was sweet but ridiculous. “Don’t be too impressed. I think about this stuff all the time. I…” Was I going to tell him how bad it really was? I wanted to. It would be nice to say it aloud once, and this was a vacation from reality. I was in New York City with the president of SPiI. If I had my way, I was going to have sex with him that evening. Why not just be truthful for once in my damned life? “I make myself the heroine in stories. I get in a car, it’s a story. I go for a jog, it’s a story. I do laundry. Story. I’m dyslexic and everything is hard in school, so why not go ahead and make it harder by living this strange internal fantasy life?”

  He was silent. There, I had done it now. Total turn off. I’d never be having sex tonight, and I’d be lucky if Maven didn’t put me in the Town Car and send me home now. I couldn’t meet his gaze. It would be too penetrating.

  “Have you considered that you might be a writer?”

  I stopped. “What?” I raised my eyes.

  “Have you considered that the reason your brain is so anxious to make up stories when you might be better served doing other things is that you really are supposed to be telling stories? Like typing them out and maybe publishing them? You’re bored because you’re not doing what you were designed to do.”

  No, I had really not considered that, ever. “Write fiction?”

  “Sure. Why not? People love fiction. If your stories are good, I bet someone would read them. I don’t know about making a living. Truth is, I don’t know what kind of money authors make. But you could do it part time, right? Teach writing. Some kind of sales job. I’m just throwing stuff out, but I don’t think it’s screwed up, Giovanna. I think it’s talent.”

  Talent? “I never considered it. My parents are academics, and… I always just thought what they did, which is that I’m made wrong. In all kinds of ways.”

  His gaze flared for a second, his blue eyes flaring. “Your parents told you that you were made wrong? Those words?”

  “They told it to each other when they thought I couldn’t hear. But they also showed it to me just about every way possible. They’re super smart. Unbelievably so. I think they thought that together they would make Einstein. But they just made me.”

  He drummed his hands on the table. “Well, then they made better than they deserved.” He shook his head. “Our families can really fuck us up. They don’t even mean to. They’re all just screwed up people themselves. Terribly flawed, battling their own shit all the time. At the end of the day we are, to an extent, what they made us to be. As they were.”

  The bill came, and he quickly handed his credit card to the server. “I’m pretty pissed right now at your parents. I realize I’ve never met them, but fuck them. Seriously.”

  I had never, not in my entire life, had anyone take my side in a story against my parents. All I ever heard was that they were wonderful people, so incredible for society, the benefits their understanding of how societies evolved would help the world. My father was funny, with a mind that didn’t stop. My mother was beautiful, focused, and brilliant.

  And no one had ever said they weren’t good parents. Not ever. When it came down to it, there was no one to notice, none who would care. We had no family. They’d both been only children with parents who were deceased before I was born. Who cared how they raised me? I was homeschooled until high school, and then I was just… off.

  The newness of Maven’s defense of me, of his immediately dislike of them rode me all the way to the street. He was about t
o hail us a cab when I threw my arms around him. He was warm against the night air, but even more than that, Maven was real. He rolled around in problems and didn’t seem bothered or freaked out that I had some of my own.

  “Thank you.”

  He pressed his cheek against the top of my head. “You’re welcome. Fuck them.”

  Someone else might have thought I was hugging him as appreciation for dinner, but not Maven. I had a feeling he misunderstood very little in life.

  We didn’t speak in the taxi. I looked out the window as New York City passed by my eyes, not really seeing it. I was too aware of the man next to me. His hand was around my shoulders, and he rubbed exposed skin between my shoulder and my neck. Electricity shot up my spine, and I trembled. He bent over to whisper in my ear. “I’m so fucking hard right now from wanting you. You’ve hardly touched me, and I’m ready to beg for you.”

  I turned slightly until we were close enough to kiss, but I didn’t make the move. “The anticipation is excruciating, right?”

  “Hmm.” He didn’t answer with a word, more a sound from his throat. “You know it’s your choice right? You can say no. I’m not…”

  I kissed his lips as gently as I could. “I think it was me who introduced the idea of this to begin with. I want it. But thank you for making sure.”

  We got to what must have been the address. After paying the guy, Maven practically flew out of the taxi, tugging me with him. I looked up. Chance’s grandmother’s home was surprising. This was New York City. I thought of tall buildings. This looked more like a home. The whole block was one brownstone townhouse lined up against another. I gave a cursory glance around. That must be the style in this area.

  Maven let us in, flipping on the lights as he did. “Banyan and I have the keys. If we need to get away from our mothers, we come here, whether Chance is here or not. So much so that we each officially have a room.”

  I stopped where I stood and looked around. There were energies to places, and this one felt like it welcomed me in. Everything was fancy and old. Chance must not have redecorated at all. This was his grandmother’s stuff.

  Maven kissed my cheek. “Look around. I can see I’ve lost your attention for a minute. Give it back to me soon. I’ll be up at the top of the second staircase. The room has green and gold wallpaper.”

  “I don’t want to just poke around. That’s not polite.”

  He shrugged, taking the steps two at a time. “We don’t care all that much about polite. Be nosy. Chance would tell you the same.”

  I took a second. Okay, so Maven had gone up, and he wanted me to explore? I walked quietly, like I might get in trouble for being places I hadn’t officially been shown. Next to the main entrance way was a formal dining room. White chairs with green linings surrounded a white table. In the corner of the room, a spiral staircase led upward. How many staircases did this place have? I kept looking. Room after room stuffed with beautiful, antique furniture caused me to pause and inhale.

  Chance wanted to update this place, and I was sure there were a ton of reasons to do so, but this was gorgeous. Hopefully, some of the stuff would stay. I lost track of bedrooms. Didn’t most homes in New York City have very few?

  The door to Maven’s green and gold room was open. I walked in slowly. He sat on the bed, his feet crossed one over the other. His shirt sleeves were rolled up over his elbows, and two of the buttons on his shirt were undone. He looked comfortable, sexy, and just a little intimidating. He fit in this house. So would Chance and Banyan.

  I didn’t. But that was okay. It didn’t matter tonight.

  He raised his eyebrows. “You came through with confidence, and then you lost it. Green and gold wallpaper throw you off?”

  I smiled at him. “It’s totally the green and gold wallpaper. Nothing to do with how sexy you are on that bed. You look like… you belong here. Like you could live in this world.”

  He got up on his knees and extended his hand to me. “Who gives a shit about any of it? Close the door and come here.”

  I did as he said, grabbing his hand when I was close enough to do so. Maven’s hands were smooth, his thumb running over the top of mine where they clasped. He drew me to him.

  “You could fit anywhere you wanted to. You have skin like porcelain. Big, expressive brown eyes. Your hair is like the sun setting in the Caribbean. You keep your head down, so you don’t notice that others see you. All the time. I watched it over and over when you came out of the library at the same time I left my meetings. Well, I noticed you, too. I was part of the crowd. I want you. So badly. You seem to want the same. So don’t get shy on me now, gorgeous.”

  That was a lot for Maven to say. I smiled at him before I pushed him back in the position he’d been in when I came in the room. “This is crazy you know. This friendship we have that leads to this. And we’re both fine with it. Where’s the drama? Where’s the fuss?”

  He smirked. “We’ll keep that for between the sheets.”

  “Good answer.”

  I straddled him, and he sucked in his breath. We were still clothed, but I could feel his hardness pressing against me. His gaze changed, his eyes hooding slightly. I ground against him before I lifted myself off.

  He widened his eyes as his hands came onto my arms, rubbing his fingers over my shirt. I did the movement again, and he made the slightest moan in the back of his throat. Yes, it felt good to me too, but seeing what I did to him was the hottest part. Over and over, I pressed against him and then pulled away.

  His moans got louder, and soon he pulled my head to his, embracing me with his lips. His hands were in my hair. I didn’t stop moving. This was fun and unexpected. I hadn’t anticipated that I’d want to start like this.

  He pulled back. “Clothes off. Now.”

  I gave him my best naughty smile. Of course I was going to do what he wanted. It was hard to deny Maven anything when I wasn’t caught in the throes of his heat. But I was going to play with him first. Did anyone tease Maven? “Oh really? You want me naked? You’re sure.”

  He practically growled before he flipped me over, his body held off of mine just a little bit. He turned his head to the side, kissing my chin, my nose. “I want you naked.”

  “Then I guess you should get me naked.”

  He tugged at my top, pulling it over my head. I’d put on a nude bra and panties that matched it, but he hadn’t seen those yet. It was a front clasp, and he undid it fast, throwing it aside. I grabbed at his shirt. “Take it off.”

  Maven winked at me. “You want it off. Take it off me.”

  I undid the rest of his buttons, glad my hands were steady since I didn’t feel that way at all. I had to unroll his sleeves to really pull the shirt off, but soon we were skin to skin. I ran my hand over his defined abs, feeling his muscles jump under my fingers when I touched him.

  He sucked in a breath, his nostrils flaring, before he took my breast in his mouth. After a second, he sucked on my nipple to the point of pain. I cried out. The bite of it, the sense that it could hurt more but didn’t because it was so damned hot made my hips buck against him.

  Maven kissed me, hard. Once. Then twice. I melted against him, and he sucked on my other breast. I could hardly breathe for wanting him. I dug my fingers in his back so hard it was going to leave a mark.

  We pulled at each other’s pants until we were both naked. His cock was hard, erect, and huge. I reached out to stroke him, a long tug from his balls all the way to the tip. He closed his eyes. “Careful. I’m so hot for you I can’t see straight. I’m not coming in your hand tonight but inside your pussy.”

  I wanted that, too. “Do you have a condom?”

  That was a question I should have asked earlier. He groaned his yes before he reached for a drawer next to the bed and pulled out a condom. His hands trembled, and he shook his head. “Damn, I’m really… on right now. I…”

  I took the package from him. He didn’t need to explain. I tore it open and handed it back to him. He’d have to get i
t on. I’d never done that, and I didn’t want to screw it up. He managed quickly, and I watched, transfixed. Maven was a beautiful man.

  Then he was on top of me again, this time his forehead pressed to mine. I closed my eyes. This was the part that was always the problem for me. I had to relax or it was going to be a strain getting him inside. He was a big man.

  “Hey, look at me.” His voice was low in my ear. “Keep your eyes on mine, okay?”

  I nodded, opening my lids. “Just trying to make sure I’m completely relaxed so this doesn’t go badly.”

  “Not possible any of this is going to go that way, gorgeous. I’m going to take such good care of you.” He reached between us, finding my clit and stroking it. I cried out from the unexpected touch. “Yes, you like that. I do, too. You are going to be hot and ready for me. I promise you.”

  His words were a salve to whatever anxiety I had left. I was ready for him, and he knew it. Maven pressed inside of me gently. My body didn’t need him to wait. I was ready. He’d no sooner pushed in than he pulled out. We cried out together. He did it again, our moans once again in sync. In and out, his body took mine again and again. I kissed him, hard, biting down on his lower lip. Maven grinned at me, his jerks getting stronger. I wanted every piece of him. I craved the end of this, but I couldn’t let it be over too fast.

  Not when it was so fucking perfect.

  I wrapped my legs around him tighter, drawing him deeper. He grabbed onto my thigh, pushing it as far as it could go until my leg was practically on his shoulder. “Yes,” I told him. This was the penetration I needed from him. He could take me as deep was he wanted. There was no such thing as too much.

  Over and over, we joined and separated until I panted for him. I would have begged for release, but it didn’t take that long. He hit all the right spots, seemed to know my body like we had done this many times before.

  “Maven,” I didn’t even know what I asked for but I needed it. “Please. Please. Please.”

  I came hard and seconds later he did, too, my name a sigh on his lips.