There is no better place than my own bed. I wake up having slept better last night than the other at Maverick's. Of course, the reason I probably slept so well was because there was no way I was going to let myself wake up and ruin my dream.
As cliche as it may be, I dreamed of Maverick.
What started out innocent, with the two of us looking over the pack lands at the graveyard, turned R rated once my dream-self made his way to the springs. There was no helping it, honestly. Maverick was naked, and gorgeous, and what I wouldn't give to taste every dip and curve on his body.
I was stirring between wakefulness and sleep, a delicate balance between the two. My body acted one way, while my mind drove into places that felt more forbidden by the second.
Instead of letting Maverick walk aw
