It's Me Again, Baby
Page 9
His weapon was in the front of the truck, tucked under the seat. He’d been careful to make sure they weren’t followed and there hadn’t been anyone back here when he’d parked. Somehow this asshole had found them.
Fuck.
“Please put the knife down.” Samantha’s voice was surprisingly calm, with only a slight tremor threading through her words. Smith’s attention stayed locked on her.
Maguire took a subtle step closer.
“You left me,” Smith spat, his knife hand trembling as he waved it wildly around. “I had to find you, to fly all the way across the country.”
Maguire took another step, then another, moving at an angle so the man wouldn’t realize he was closing in. Smith’s attention was mostly on Samantha anyway, giving Maguire a slight advantage. He hated that the man was focused on her, but he’d take advantage of it until he was close enough to take this guy out.
“I just moved back home.”
“Without telling me.” Another flail of his arm and another step closer to Samantha.
Nope. Maguire forced himself to remain calm, to call on all his training as he crept closer.
“My dad died. I had to move back. Why don’t you put the knife down and we’ll talk?”
“I tried to show you how much I love you, how much I’ll do for you. You’re mine!” His voice was high-pitched and unsteady. “I cut your tires, to make you stay and talk to me. But that neighbor bitch got in the way. Then you left again, just like you always do!”
Maguire was close enough to take him out now. He didn’t care if he got injured or cut. He needed Samantha safe. Samantha, with her sweetness and big heart, who hadn’t wanted to prosecute this guy because of his brain tumor.
Maguire had no compassion where this guy was concerned. Not when he’d terrified the woman he loved, was threatening her with a knife.
“Okay let’s talk, then.” Her voice shook now and Maguire could hear her fear. He couldn’t see her expression though because all his focus was on Smith.
“We’ll talk when we’re alone!” He lunged at her and Maguire pounced.
Amped up on adrenaline, he rushed the tall, reedy man, lifting an arm to deflect the knife. Pain sliced through his forearm as he slammed his body into Smith’s.
A crack rent the air as Smith landed on the pavement underneath him. He screamed as his arm snapped under Maguire’s force. The knife clattered next to them.
Maguire wanted to lay into the guy, but stayed focused and rolled him over, even as he moaned in pain, his rambling words nonsense. He had no pity for Smith.
“There’s a bungee cord in my dad’s toolbox. Grab it.” Maguire didn’t look up as he pressed his knee into Smith’s back, kept his wrists secured behind his back. He didn’t care that the guy’s arm was broken, he was keeping him completely disabled.
He could hear her hurried footsteps as she ran to the truck and then back to him.
Without glancing up at her, he took the cord and began tying Smith. By the time he’d finished, he heard Sam getting off the phone with Brad.
And two minutes later the sound of the sheriff’s siren screamed in the distance. They weren’t far from the station so it made sense.
“You can get off him.” Samantha kicked the knife away as she pressed a hand to his shoulder.
Tense, Maguire looked up at her only because Smith wasn’t a threat to anyone anymore. “I’ll wait for the sheriff.”
She looked as if she wanted to argue, but simply nodded. For that he was grateful. He knew he could move off the guy, but some intrinsic part of him needed to keep Smith down. Completely neutralized and unable to hurt Samantha. Maguire didn’t even want the guy to look in her direction again. Though by now he didn’t think that was a possibility. Smith was softly crying and muttering under his breath.
Less than a minute later two patrol cars surged around the corner of the building. Only when Brad and one of his deputies jumped from their respective vehicles did Maguire ease off and stand up.
When Brad yanked the guy to his feet with another yelp from Smith, Maguire finally turned to Sam.
“Are you okay?” they both asked at the same time.
On a cry, Samantha rushed at him, throwing her arms around him before either could answer.
He locked his arms around her and rubbed his hand up and down her spine, unwilling to let her go as she buried her face against his chest. “Everything’s okay now.”
Finally she lifted her head to look at him. “God, Maguire, I thought… You’re bleeding!” Her entire body jolted as she stepped back, his blood on her bare arm. “Where are you hurt?” she demanded.
He lifted his left arm. “Just got nicked when I took him down.”
“Ambulance is here,” Brad said, coming to stand beside them. “We’re taking Smith to the hospital to be cared for before we charge him. We’ll need to take both your statements, but you’re getting patched up too.” He handed Maguire a cloth he must have gotten from his car.
“That’s not necessary.” Maguire lifted his forearm, saw that maybe it was a little deeper than he’d thought. But it wouldn’t need stitches. Not even close. About two inches long and shallow enough, it would just require some antiseptic and a bandage and he’d be fine. Maybe steri-strips.
“Oh, it is necessary!” Samantha was shaking now. “You’re going to the hospital right the freak now!”
When he realized how upset she was—and of course she was—he nodded and reached for her, wrapped his non-injured arm around her. “We’ll head there right now. Can you drive me?” He was fine to drive but figured if he said that, she’d start yelling again.
“Yes. We’ll see you at the hospital,” Sam told the sheriff, and she wasn’t asking.
Holding his bleeding arm to his chest, the cloth secured against it to stanch the bleeding, Maguire let Samantha strap him in. When she jumped into the driver’s side, her hands trembling as she took the wheel, he said, “It’s hot when you boss me around. Maybe you can boss me around later tonight.”
Eyes wide, she glanced at him for a millisecond before turning the engine on. “If you think we’re having sex tonight, you’re out of your freaking mind.”
He just snorted. Oh, they were definitely having sex. A little injury like this wasn’t keeping him from the woman he loved. He wanted to tell her right then how he felt but wasn’t sure how she’d react. She was stressed and likely feeling out of control. He wouldn’t add to her stress by dropping something so huge on her.
Unlike him, she’d never dealt with a situation like this before. Technically he’d never dealt with a knife-wielding stalker, but he had dealt with assholes who wanted to kill him. So he’d wait until later tonight to tell her. Or maybe tomorrow.
But he couldn’t wait much longer than that.
Seeing the crazed look in Smith’s eyes as he brandished that knife around? He rolled his shoulders once. He could have lost Samantha. Could lose her at any time. Life was too damn short and too precious not to be honest.
She needed to know how he felt. She was it for him, and today had only driven the point home.
Chapter 10
Maguire resisted the urge to get up and check on Samantha—since she was simply in his parents’ kitchen with his mom and her mom. After what had happened last night he hadn’t been sure she’d want to come to his family’s house for dinner, but she’d been insistent. And she’d even worked today, much to his annoyance.
But he understood the need to keep busy. That was the only thing that had kept him sane since getting out of the Marines.
He looked up from his seat at the dining room table as his father squeezed his shoulder once. “You picked a good one, son.”
Maguire nodded as he stood, pushing his chair in. Almost everyone had dispersed from the table and were now in various parts of his parents’ house, talking and laughing and doing God only knew what. Their family dinner had grown from six to twelve tonight, including Nora’s younger sister—who was dating one of Magu
ire’s nephews. “Thanks, Dad. I agree.”
At six foot two, his father was burly, with thick, dark hair similar to Maguire’s own. Unlike their mom, he was often the quietest one out of everyone. He and Nolan were similar like that. “She the one who broke your heart three years ago?” his dad asked so no one else would hear.
Maguire blinked, surprised his dad knew about that. But hell, his mom had known, so maybe he shouldn’t be shocked. “Ah, yeah. But it was all a misunderstanding.” Thanks to some woman he barely even remembered and had never touched. Life was such a bitch sometimes.
“Well I’m glad you two worked it out. And no matter what your mom says, don’t have kids right away. Enjoy a few years with her first.”
“We’re just dating.” Though he wanted a hell of a lot more than just that. He wanted to move in with her, to put a ring on her finger eventually, and yeah, he did want kids. Not right away though.
“Tell yourself that if you want, but don’t lie to me. I see the way you look at her. And if I had to bet, I’d say you’ll have a ring on her finger in two months.”
“Have you made a bet?” His voice was dry.
His dad just laughed. “You know me better than that. But you also know your mom.”
“True enough. Thanks. I…I’ve got plans for us.” But first he needed to tell her he loved her. Last night she’d been emotionally drained, so after they’d made their statements down at the station he’d brought her back to her home, where she’d crashed. The adrenaline that had kept her going had fled, leaving her exhausted. Something he understood well.
His dad clapped his shoulder again once before heading out of the room. Nolan and Brad were talking intently at the other end of the dining room table and he wasn’t sure exactly where everyone else was. The only person he really wanted to see anyway was Samantha.
Five minutes had passed since he’d last seen her and that was far too many.
In the kitchen he found her with their moms, standing around a cut and already partially eaten apple pie.
He lifted an eyebrow. “Really? I expect this out of my own mother.”
Samantha giggled, the sound music to his ears as she put down her mug of what was likely coffee. “We decided to dive into it before taking it out to you vultures.”
He pulled her into his arms, muttered a half-ass apology to the others for stealing Sam, and led her out the side door with him onto a deck.
“We’re not leaving yet, are we?”
“No. I just want a few minutes alone with you.” He tugged on her hand, pulling her along the side of the house until they reached the backyard. It was an oasis of color, thanks to his father’s green thumb. Lavender, irises, a bed of black-eyed Susan and fruit trees surrounded a small, man-made pool filled with fish.
“This is incredible,” she murmured. “And I thought your front yard was amazing.”
“Right?” He led her to a bench that was nestled right next to a triple-layer bird fountain that had bronze peacocks coiled around the base. Taking her hands in his once they were seated, he tried to shake off the nerves humming through him.
He’d almost told her that he loved her this morning, but had been too much of a chickenshit. That was the real reason he’d been holding off. But he needed to say the words, to tell her how he felt. It was time to man up and grab the life he wanted.
“Look…I’ve never told another woman this. And don’t feel like you need to say it back because I know this is soon, but—”
“I love you, Maguire O’Connor.” Her voice was steady and the truth in her dark eyes was easy to see.
The band of tension coiled around his chest snapped and he couldn’t have stopped the grin that spread across his face even if he’d wanted to. “I love you too, Samantha Murphy. I wanted to tell you last night, but I wanted both of us to have clear heads so you didn’t think I was just saying it in the heat of the moment.”
Smiling softly, she squeezed his hands gently. “I knew last night too. But my brain was too muddled. And I’ve never said it to anyone else either.”
“You’re the only woman I could ever want.” That was a fact he knew without a doubt. He’d been wrapped up in her and the memory of her for years. Leaning forward, he claimed her mouth much more gently than he wanted, but they were in his parents’ backyard and there were too many windows for nosy people to look through. Including several who had placed bets about what would happen between them.
Later tonight, however, he’d be kissing her the way he wanted, and all over. Claiming her once and for all.
* * *
Samantha tilted her head back, letting the jets of water cascade over her. As soon as they’d arrived back at Maguire’s place, he’d gotten a work call. Since it had seemed as if he’d be a while, she’d decided to snag a shower.
For the first time in more than a day she could truly relax. Nelson Smith was behind bars and wouldn’t be getting bail. He’d crossed the country in an attempt to kill her—or according to him, to “make her his”—so he would spend his last remaining months behind bars. He’d be in a hospital prison setting and he was being transported back to Oregon so he’d be close to his family when he died.
And she was never going to have to worry about him again.
At the sound of the bathroom door creaking open, she smiled to herself.
“I hope you want company.” Maguire’s deep voice filled the room a second before he slid the frosted glass door open and stepped inside with her.
From beneath the stream of water, she drank in every naked inch of him, right down to his thick, full cock jutting out. Broad and muscular all over, he looked like a linebacker. She itched to reach out and stroke her fingers along the lines of his intricate tattoos, to touch him everywhere and remind herself that he was hers and she was his. Because yesterday could have ended a lot differently. She shuddered at the memory, but shoved those thoughts away.
They moved toward each other at the same time, his mouth crushing down on hers as she went up on tiptoe to meet him.
She moaned into his mouth even as she hoisted herself up, wrapping her legs around him. He had a very familiar look in his pale eyes that said there would be no foreplay. Just hard and fast and she desperately needed that. She needed to be filled by him, to find release, especially after the last twenty-four hours.
She was still reeling that he loved her too. He’d been so adorable, almost hesitant to tell her, so she’d blurted out her own feelings. She’d thought it was too soon, but if he felt the same there was no need to hold back. Not after last night.
Life was way too fragile and she wanted to spend it with Maguire.
His hands slid around her body, gripped her ass hard as he pushed her against one of the tile walls. She loved the feel of his fingers digging into her skin, that little bite of pain.
“In me now,” she said against his mouth, though it came out garbled.
In response, he slid his dick against her stomach, not making a move to shift lower. Though she knew he wanted inside her as badly as she wanted him in her.
Her inner walls clenched, empty without him as he palmed one breast.
Teasing her nipple with his thumb, he seemed content to keep her pinned to the slick wall while he turned her on even more.
So she reached between their bodies and grasped his thick length in her hand. She couldn’t get a full grip, but she could caress and tease him. Water pummeled against them as she started stroking him and savoring the moans of pleasure he made into her mouth.
She loved that she drove him as crazy as he drove her. It was weird, almost like the gap of the last few years between them didn’t exist. Like they’d picked up right where they’d left off. Only they were a little older and, in her case, definitely wiser and more confident. Maybe three years ago hadn’t been the right time for them.
Now certainly was. Of that she had no doubt. Because this man was it for her in so many ways.
She nipped at his bottom lip, biting down with more p
ressure than normal. “In me, Maguire.”
Pulling his head back slightly, he looked down at her with pale eyes she could drown in. Oh so slowly, he rolled her already hard nipple between his thumb and forefinger, making her wiggle her hips against him. “No teasing tonight?” he murmured.
“Do you really want to?” She was torn between the need to drag this out or to feel all that thickness filling her right this instant.
He dropped his hand to grab both of her hips and she had her answer. She didn’t bother fighting a smile as he readjusted his hips then thrust inside her.
Maguire watched as Samantha arched her back against the wall, her dark hair slicked back, her eyes closing momentarily as he thrust inside her.
He couldn’t wait any longer. At least not this first time tonight. His entire body trembled with the need to claim her, take her. To come inside her and mark her in the most primal way there was.
For a moment, he kept her pinned up against the wall, buried deep inside her, and just stared at her. Breathing hard, his heart rate a staccato beat in his chest, he took in every sleek line and curve of the woman he knew was one day going to be his wife.
The thought should have scared him, but instead it filled him with a sense of rightness.
When her eyes opened, her dark gaze captured his, didn’t stray. The moment felt impossibly intimate as he started thrusting inside her. In and out, slowly at first.
She clutched onto his shoulders, her hips rolling up and meeting him stroke for stroke. The grip of her legs around him was vise-like, mirroring the feel of her inner walls clenched tight around his cock.
Close to coming already, his balls were pulled up tight as he reached between their bodies and rubbed her clit with his thumb.
She sucked in a breath, her eyes going heavy-lidded as he began massaging the little bundle of nerves over and over in a tight motion he knew would push her over the edge.
It didn’t take long until her inner walls started that fluttering rhythm he recognized well, telling him she was close to finding her release.