I woke up with the most insane hard on of my life.
My face was buried in Maren's neck, and my arm was draped around her waist. Holding her smooth, warm stomach flush against my chest. Our legs tangled together.
Maren wiggled closer, and my epically hard dick slipped out of my boxers, pressing right up against the seam of her thong—which she insisted on sleeping in instead of the basketball shorts or boxers I'd offered her.
I swallowed hard, barely daring to breathe in her irresistible scent.
I bit down on my lip to keep from moaning because fuck that felt good.
Then she wiggled again, rubbing my cock against her wetness, and I knew this could not continue.
With a prayer to the almighty for strength, I untangled myself from a sleepy Maren and eased myself out of bed. Then I buttoned my boxers and tried to coax my dick back down.
I ran through the specifications of an SH-60S Seahawk helicopter. When that didn't work, I moved on to NAVAIR safety procedures. That wasn't doing the trick.
Maren rolled over, looking so gorgeous sprawled out on my bed. Red hair mussed. Lips parted. Her eyes fluttered open, and I realized I was flying in dangerous conditions.
"I'm cold," she complained. "Come back to bed."
She might be cold, but I was thermonuclear. A reactor ready to explode. Especially when her big blue eyes focused on the bulge in my boxers and lingered. She could see just how badly I wanted her. Hell, astronauts on the space station could see how badly I wanted her.
I grabbed the comforter and inched it towards her chin, covering her up. "You stay in bed. I've got to hit the gym. I'll be back with breakfast and coffee."
Yes, the gym would take my mind off...this problem.
When in doubt, I could always fall back on my morning routine.
"Fuck the gym." Maren flung open the covers, giving me a full view of the triangle of her thong and the curve of her tits—which were nearly spilling out of the little tank top she had on. "You could skip a day and be perfectly fine. Your body is insane."
I wanted to fuck something, but it wasn't the gym. This was not helping my current boner situation. Not at all.
"If I skip a day, it throws off the whole schedule, and I'll have to do a double workout tomorrow."
Maren shook the covers, and I swore one of her tits was going to pop right out of that tank top. Her hard nipples snagging on an inch of lace. "Five minutes, West. Please."
The way she said my name—like she really wanted me back in bed—made my cock twitch. My gaze settled on that black triangle of fabric. I wanted to slide it to the side and touch her until she gasped my name. No, I wanted to touch her until she screamed it. West! Yes! West, harder! Over and over until I had her cumming all over my cock.
Not a helpful thought, West.
The brief fantasy required me to adjust myself and tuck the bastard into the waistband of my boxers. I found Maren watching me, biting her lip. Pupils blown wide.
That look stopped me cold.
I'd seen it on women all the time at the Oiled Olive. It happened during times like this when clients were turned on and wanted more from me than just a dance. The VIPs upstairs were even more grabby than the women on stage.
It was my job to strip down and stir up their wildest fantasies, but it was all a performance. None of it was real.
Right now, I wasn't on the clock. I wasn't performing, nor did I want to take advantage of Maren. Last night we'd kissed, but I hadn't pushed to take things any further.
Now that it was morning and she was still here and asking me to lay with her—basically naked—I knew what would happen. We'd start kissing again, but this time, there wasn't anything between us. It would just be Maren's already wet pussy, my absolutely insane erection, and the ribbed condoms in my bedside drawer.
As much as I wanted to feel her moaning beneath me, I couldn't do this right now. I might not be acting, but I wasn't sure if Maren was. I had to know this wasn't a pity performance or something she'd regret later.
When Maren told me she wasn't ready to talk about feelings, I knew she wasn't ready to take this relationship to a deeper level.
Dancing with women and grinding on them was one thing. I did that all the time. But sex? To me, it was different. It had to be.
I wanted more with Maren than one incredibly hot morning, and fucking her now wouldn't create a foundation I wanted to build on. I got a glimpse of the real Maren Mitchell last night, and I wanted to let her know she was safe around me.
There was one glaring problem with my self-righteous rant: I was still lying to Maren about my job at the Double O. I hadn't given up being Maverick like she'd asked me to.
A sinking feeling settled in my gut that helped to kill my boner.
"Please, West," she whispered, and I realized I was powerless to say no to this woman.
I couldn't just leave her alone. Not when she was looking at me like that and asking me to stay. So, as gently as I could, I took the blanket from her and covered Maren back up, then I laid beside her, putting an extra layer between us.
I cleared my throat and tried to find my voice. "How's this?"
Maren rolled on her side to face me, pillow marks streaked across her face, and gave me a thoughtful look. "I'm definitely warmer."
I wrapped my arm around her, and Maren nuzzled against my neck. Sighing against my skin. God, that felt so good. Having her here. With me. It was early—just past seven—and the sun hadn't filtered through my bedroom window.
The city slept, quiet and still, after all the parties had ended and the bars closed. Yet, Maren and I were just waking up.
In the stillness of the early morning, as I held Maren close, I realized I felt less alone. Not because she was in my bed but because I was allowing myself to be vulnerable.
Denny had told me to be interesting to catch her attention. At the time, I hadn't known what he meant, so I auditioned for Maren in the most interesting way I could think of. But now, I believed this was what he was really talking about.
He'd wanted me to show her the real West.
I rarely let anyone see this side of myself—the softer version I'd been when I was younger. The guy that cried in public and played love songs on the piano. It had taken nine years for me to be ready to trust a girl and hope she wouldn't stomp on my heart.
Even though I wanted to trust Maren with my heart, I was still keeping my job at the Double O secret. I asked myself what was worse—Maren being angry at me for lying, or if those tapes of our dance got out?
I didn't have a good answer, but I knew I wanted to protect her more than keep her. If possible, I wanted to do both.
I needed to figure out a way to leave the Oiled Olive—and quick—without pissing off Putnam.
The anxiety from trying to walk this tightrope had my chest clenching.
I pressed a kiss into Maren's hair, breathing in her scent. "Go back to sleep. Or take a shower if you want. The bathroom key is on the hook by the door. I'll stop and get breakfast on the way home."
Maren nodded, and I eased myself out of bed, watching as she sank back against my pillow.
I stepped into a pair of workout shorts and a tank top, then grabbed my gym bag. This was my familiar routine. The only difference was Maren's eyes tracking me as I mixed a pre-workout drink, which coaxed a half-smile from me.
And now my dick was back at attention.
"I'll see you later," I said with a wave, trying to hurry out.
"West?" Maren said just before I opened my apartment door. I turned to find her sitting on my bed with the covers pulled around her. "Is everything going to change between us?"
The half-grin slipped from my face. I contemplated her question, wishing I could predict the future. I knew I wanted things to change. I wanted us to get closer—personally and professionally. I didn't want to lose her as my agent or as...whatever we were hopefully becoming.
But that wasn't my decision to make. Maren had to meet me halfway.
"Nothing will change between us unless you want it to," I promised. A relieved smile spread across her face, and I waved again. "See you soon."
When I closed the door, I had a sinking feeling that I couldn't shake. I cast my gaze toward Denny's old apartment before making my way downstairs. If Denny were here, he'd tell me to stop being such a coward. I just didn't know how to do that in a way that also made everyone happy.
I needed to punish myself at the gym. That usually took my mind off things.
Once I was on the street, I texted my older brother South, the former Navy SEAL, and asked him to send me his most brutal chest and back workout. I knew he'd been up for at least two hours already and had likely finished his own grueling workout. A few minutes later, he responded with an insane workout plan and told me I couldn't handle it.
Challenge accepted.
I jogged the mile and a half to the gym in eight minutes flat and followed South's workout to the letter. He was right, I could barely finish all the reps, and by the time I climbed the stairs to my apartment, I couldn't lift my arms.
I opened the door to find Maren sitting on the edge of my bed, hunched over her laptop. She was wearing one of my Navy T-shirts and a pair of striped boxers. A pen was stuck between her teeth.
She looked so fucking good in my clothes, sitting on my bed. Like she was mine. I pushed the unhelpful thought out of the way. She wasn't mine.
"I'm glad you're back!" she said around the pen. Maren waved me over to her computer. "You've got to see this."
I wandered over to the edge of the bed and sank down beside her. The flirty energy of this morning had vanished, replaced by Maren's familiar business-only persona.
I stared at her computer screen, not really focused on anything. Maybe this was her subtle way of telling me she didn't want things to change between us. She was my agent, not my girlfriend.
"I've found another audition that I think is perfect. Except..."
Her voice trailed off, and I could tell by her tone there was a big 'except' coming. Kinda like the current status of our relationship. I frowned.
"Except what?" I asked.
"This audition is a reach," Maren explained, still not meeting my eye. "You'll need to step up your training game. And I don't mean in the gym." She waved her pen at me. "I want you in dance classes every day and soaking up all the extra attention Tabitha is willing to give you. You're going to need it."
Maren turned back to her computer and pushed her glasses up her nose. I was excited about the opportunity to audition again, but my excitement was tainted by the cost it came at.
I wondered how I would fit an extra minute into my day. Between waiting tables at Ritual, classes at SADA, and working the VIP lounge—not to mention the 90-minute workout I ran myself through each morning—I barely had time to sleep.
This was New York. You busted your ass until you made it, and then once you made it, you worked even harder. Thanks to the military, I was used to a chaotic schedule and zero work-life balance, so I'd make it work. I had to.
Typing away, Maren continued. "I'm also going to get ahead of the chatter about you missing the audition yesterday. I'm emailing Justin, the casting director for Dante, and explaining the situation. He is a sweetie, so I'm sure he will understand."
She really was going the extra mile to smooth things over, and I appreciated her expert knowledge and the care she was taking with my career.
"Thank you," I said quietly, "for doing all of this. I appreciate your hard work, even though I'm still just a diamond in the rough."
Maren's hands stilled on the keys, and she turned away from the computer. For the first time since I walked in the door, our eyes met, and a flicker of that thermonuclear energy between us sparked.
"You're welcome."
I passed her a latte and a bagel, and Maren took them both.
"It's a coconut milk latte. I remembered—"
"The time I pepper sprayed you?" she asked with a giggle. "And the ensuing coconut cream face mask?" We both laughed, and Maren set her hand on my arm. "I'm never going to stop being sorry for that."
Gently, I took her hand in mine and pressed a kiss against her palm. She smelled like my body wash, and the knowledge that she was naked in my shower before putting on my clothes only intensified my craving for her.
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
Maren didn't shy away from me, and my dick responded by pressing firmly against my workout shorts. I adjusted myself as discreetly as possible yet again. I held onto the hope that maybe we could thread the needle between working together and being together, at her pace.
We spent the next thirty minutes planning the audition before Maren packed up her purse and changed back into her clothes.
I fell back into my bed, rubbing my hands over my face.
Today was going to suck. I had class at the SADA at 10 am, work at Ritual from 12:30 until 8 pm. Then I had my shift at the Oiled Olive from 10 pm until 4 am.
I got to do it all over again tomorrow.
"I'll call you later," Maren said. I lowered my hands and saw Maren leaning over me, her lips inches from mine. "Okay?"
"Sounds good," I replied, voice cracking like a teenager.
"Have a good day," I told her. Unsure if she wanted me to close the distance between our mouths and claim her for my own, or if she wanted things to stay the same. We were going at her pace, so as much as I wanted to kiss her, I held back. Waiting.
When she didn't lean in any further, I had my answer.
She wanted to keep things professional.
"You too," I said. Trying not to sound disappointed when she pulled away.
I watched Maren leave, running my tongue along the seam of my lips and staring at the front door. The unbelievable weight of expectations settled on my chest, making it difficult to breathe.
I wanted to make Maren happy. I wanted to get this role. I wanted to see how far my acting career could go. But that was difficult when I couldn't remove myself from the Oiled Olive.
Right now, I was walking a tightrope between Maverick and West, and I had no idea how I was going to keep my balance.
This West chapter practically wrote itself. It's always nice to come back to his POV after being in Maren's head for a couple chapters.
Up next is a special bonus chapter you do not want to miss! I'm going to walk you through Maren's dinner meeting with Orlando Blackfield and there just might be an appearance by ✨someone special✨ who's name rhymes with Best.
This chapter does not need to be read to understand the plot, I will recap her meeting for you, but if you like sweet, spicy and tense scenes, definitely consider checking it out!
xx
AJ