Chapter Text
The cool water lapped around your thighs, slowly pulsing with the waves. Your newly-bared skin shivered against the night air, and you folded your arms across your chest, ostensibly to conserve heat. “Jesus, it’s freezing!”
Maverick was already up to his waist in the water, his expression bemused. “If you just take the plunge, it won’t feel as cold,” he was still finding the humor in your temporary misery, it seemed.
You took another step into the water and cringed. “No, I can’t do it,” you shook your head insistently, “maybe you can skinny-dip for the both of us and–” In your peripherals, you saw him surging through the water like a shark. You screamed and dove away, but he was faster.
His arms closed around your waist, and he pulled you ever-so-slightly off the ground. He took a few steps backward, and collapsed, pulling you down with him.
The ocean engulfed you in a total and frigid embrace. You caught one last glimpse of moonlight before you closed your eyes, taking a deep and desperate breath. When you were fully beneath the surface, your body tensed. You could still feel the pressure of Maverick’s hands, and you reached for him in the void.
He held you flush against him and guided you back to the surface.
Your hair clung to your face in wet strands, and you took a deep, grounding breath. It was like all of your panic had been leached out of your body and was swept away by the waves. Your fingers were splayed over Maverick’s shoulders, which were somehow still warm to the touch. You met his eyes and caught your lower lip between your teeth. “That was… intense,” your voice was a near whisper.
His smile was soft and playful. “Better?”
“Better,” you agreed. “I still can’t believe that you took me all the way out here… just to swim.” You wiggled in his grasp, his hands sliding against your slick skin.
He moved with you, finding the swell of your hips and then the soft flesh of your ass. “I don’t remember saying that,” he corrected gently. “Turn around for me,” he hummed, releasing you from his grasp for just a moment.
You did, but first giving him a playfully admonishing look. You could hear him moving behind you, the quiet smack of the water against his skin.
“Look up at the moon.”
It was still in the waxing phase, but it was a purely cloudless night, and you could see it clearly. “Okay, I’m looking.”
“What people don’t understand about skinny dipping is,” he positioned himself behind you, adjusting his member so it rested on the curve of your ass, stiff and prodding against your lower back, “it’s meant to be cold.” His arms slid around your waist, holding you in place against him. “Yeah, eventually you’ll go numb, but first, every sensation is heightened.” His voice was quiet now, his lips ghosting the shell of your ear. “For a few more minutes, you’re right where I want you.” One of his hands crept towards your sex, applying drifting and intentional pressure down your abdomen.
Goosebumps came alive over your body, and you bit your lip hard. You didn’t want to speak, didn’t want to break his spell, but somehow, you knew his next question before he asked.
“Is this okay, pretty girl?” His other hand drifted to your right breast, tweaking the pert nipple between two expert fingers. His lips found the back of your neck, kissing you there. “We can just swim if that’s what you want.”
God. What a perfect, beautiful bastard. “I want this,” you reassured him, leaning into his touch.
Another kiss on your neck. “What do you want?” There was feigned ignorance in his voice, underwritten with glee.
“I want a distraction,” you answered, maybe more honestly than you intended, “I want your hands, your body, your attention…”
“I can do that,” the hand that had been touching your nipple retreated, going back to its place on your waist. The other finished its journey to your sex, spreading your labia with his index and ring fingers, then using his middle finger to prod at your clit.
The tiny motion sent a jolt through your abdomen, and you twitched in his arms. You realized he wasn’t lying about the sensitive part, as if he would ever lie about something like this.
He continued with hot, open-mouth kisses along the ridge of your right shoulder. His finger ghosted over your clit again, moving in a brief circular pattern. He raked his fingers over your waist, using the lightest touch of his nails to send shivers down your spine.
You writhed in his grasp, instinctively leaning back into his touch. The combination of hot and cold, tenderness and intensity was enough to drive you mad.
His finger moved down from your clit and drifted down to your entrance, hovering there for an agonizing beat.
“Why did you stop–” you started to protest.
He bit down on your shoulder, in a quick flash of his teeth. His middle finger finally pushed into your sex with experienced ease. “You’re already wet for me,” he cooed in your ear, “feeling sensitive, sweetheart?”
“Shut up,” you groaned, allowing him to bear most of your weight as you slackened in his arms.
“That’s alright,” he teased further, beginning to pump the finger in and out of your sex. “I can take you back to mine if you haven’t had enough .” You could hear his smug smile, even if you couldn’t see it.
His motions were slow and soothing, but it wasn’t what your raw-rubbed nerves needed tonight. “Mav, I need more,” you half-begged, unable to summon a witty response to his attempts to get a rise out of you.
“More?” He tsked but obliged, adding a second finger to his ministrations. “Greedy girl.” His pace hastened, and he soon added his thumb to the mix, circling your swollen clit.
A current of electricity pulsed through your body, and a feather-light sigh escaped your lips. This position was restrictive, no doubt an intentional move on his part to toy with you. It was working. Caged in his arms, there was little you could do but grind back against him, pressing his hard member between your bodies. A lick of fire chased up your spine at the resulting groan.
“I’m supposed to be distracting you,” Mav complained, his voice a shade huskier than before.
“I want to look at you,” you protested softly, “and touch you.”
Mav laid a hot, languid kiss at the junction between your neck and shoulder, planting a love bite there too. “How could I refuse when you ask so sweetly? ” He withdrew his fingers and unwound his arms from around your waist.
You immediately turned and kissed him hard. You could feel the gentle pressure of his stiff cock prodding against your stomach, reminding you of just how much he’d enjoyed teasing you. You laced your fingers through his waterlogged hair and pulled it tight.
He responded instinctively to the kiss, letting you take the lead. You could feel the slight curve of his smile in the embrace. His hands found your hips, digging his fingers into the soft flesh there.
You broke the kiss briefly for air and stumbled through your next words. “I don’t think I’ll survive the drive back to your place,” you said. “Cabana or car?”
His green gaze was darker now as he drank in your desperation. He swallowed stiffly as he considered your question. “Car,” he answered finally. Despite the heat of the moment, his lips twitched into a little smirk. “Less sand.”
Emerging from the ocean, the nip of the water abated, but it was quickly replaced by the chill of the night breeze against your slick skin. You tried not to shiver, but you should have known it wouldn’t go unnoticed.
Mav’s hand settled on your lower back, his thumb dancing along your spine. “I brought towels,” he murmured, “hold tight.” He stepped around you and took on a brisk pace as he hustled over to the cabana.
You folded your arms across your chest, conserving a little bit of heat, but you were grinning too. The years of navy training hadn’t gone to waste, his physique was tight and toned– and your eyes lingered a little too long on his firm ass. It kicked up the trickle of heat in the center of your chest, further stoked by his attentive care.
He kicked up little clouds of sand where his feet touched the beach and disappeared inside the tent for mere seconds. He returned with two fluffy brightly colored beach towels, and a third tied around his waist. He draped the first towel around your shoulders but withheld the second.
You gave him a questioning look.
“For the backseat,” he explained, “I seem to remember that my pretty girl likes to get messy.” He punctuated the statement by giving you a playful swat on the backside.
You laughed and took his hand in yours, tugging him after you insistently as you hurried to the car. Romantic as the night of skinny dipping was, getting busted for public indecency was low on your priority list.
When you got to your car, Mav produced the keys and stepped ahead of you with an almost theatrical air. He laid out the towel in the backseat, and stepped back, gesturing you ahead like in an overexaggerated chivalrous way.
You wiggled your way into the backseat, internally wishing you’d opted for something larger than the hybrid sedan, but acknowledging it was a better venue than his bike. You moved to lay back across the seats but stopped when he laid a hand on your knee.
“Hey, wait,” he urged, moving his hand to touch your chin and tilt it towards him, “this is still what you want, right?” The question was genuine but free from insecurity– Mav knew what he offered and he knew it wasn’t easy to be with him, but this was more about your comfort.
Even so, the question made your heart squeeze a little. Had you spoiled a good thing with your eagerness? “I told you, I want you,” you insisted, laying your hand over his. “But if you’re having second thoughts–”
“No!” The answer came out almost forcefully, though he chased it with a little embarrassed laugh. “That’s not it. I just, uh–” You swore you saw a shade of pink crawl across his cheeks in the moonlight. “I might… want more than this, I think,” he said slowly. “I’d like to take you out for a drink or dinner or something farther from the base,” he watched your expression fitfully throughout his little spiel. “I think it would be nice,” he added, “but what about you?”
“I would love that,” you answered honestly, feeling like your smile was going to split at the seams. Mav was caring enough as a part-time lover, what would he be like as a boyfriend?
He grinned and leaned forward to catch you in a sweet, soft kiss.
You shared the kiss with him, but couldn’t stop the little snicker that rose as you parted.
“What?” He demanded, resting his forehead against yours.
“Did you… rehearse that? Is that what the fairy lights were for?” You asked, beginning to connect the dots.
“I–” he stopped himself, swallowing hard and looking askance. “I got a little ahead of myself tonight,” he admitted. “You’re so damned–” he huffed, “you said you needed me now,” he insisted. “How could I stop you?”
You started to laugh harder, losing a little more of the tension in the air. For all his charisma and swagger, he was a little hopeless when it came to executing romance. Still, you rewarded his effort, pressing a second kiss to his lips, then another.
Later, when you were drifting to sleep in his bed, he mumbled so softly you almost didn’t hear him: “Sweet dreams, pretty girl.”