Love, In Writing

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Love, In Writing Page 9

by Elsa Winckler


  Margaret averted her eyes. This was what she wanted. The touch, the look, even after years of marriage.

  She glanced over at Graham and their eyes met. His gaze made her glad she was sitting down. She sipped on her wine. She shouldn’t drink much more: she still had to drive all the way to Kommetjie. Hopefully, they would be finished before dark. She didn’t like driving in the dark.

  “I was telling Margaret that Graham has read some of her books,” Yvonne said.

  Graham looked at Margaret, shifted his feet. “Yeah. Thought I should find out what the fuss is all about.”

  “Oh? And did you?” Margaret asked, enjoying his obvious discomfort.

  “Did I what?” Graham turned to Andrew, who just smiled and shrugged, saying clearly Graham was alone in this one.

  “Did you find out what all the fuss is about?”

  “Well, they’re good stories. I liked them. But always a happy ending? Really? Life simply doesn’t work that way. I mean, who do you know who are still happily married after a few years?”

  Margaret turned to look at Andrew and Yvonne, who were now openly laughing at Graham.

  He smiled sheepishly. “Well, other than those two, who can’t manage to keep their hands off one another for more than a few minutes. They’ve been married for what?”

  “Ten years,” Andrew and Yvonne said in unison.

  “Well, they’re the exception to the rule.”

  “Oh, there are rules?” Margaret asked, now also smiling.

  Graham stared at her a minute longer. “It’s not realistic to think there will always be a happy ending.”

  “You should suspend disbelief, Graham, and just enjoy the story,” Margaret said.

  “What?” Andrew and Yvonne asked in unison.

  “Oh, just something Graham knows how to do when he’s writing science fiction, but forgets about when he reads any other kind of writing meant for entertainment only,” Margaret said mockingly, and turned her back on Graham. She could feel his eyes on her, though.

  “By the way,” Yvonne said, “I brought you something to sleep in. You can’t possibly drive back to Kommetjie tonight. I even put in a toothbrush.”

  “Oh, but I can’t...” She halted mid-sentence.

  “Please do,” Graham said, and she looked up at him. He’d moved and was standing close to her. “I have several guest rooms. You can pick one.”

  Margaret swallowed. Alone in a house with Graham? She shouldn’t stay; she should go. This was a really bad idea, really bad.

  She opened her mouth to say exactly that, but somehow the thought of his nearly drowning popped into her head and what she said instead was, “Thanks. I’d like to.”

  Graham gave her one of his brilliant smiles and her shoulders relaxed for the first time. She didn’t want to be anywhere else. Any soul-searching would have to wait for tomorrow.

  ***

  “They’re nice,” Margaret murmured. They were standing on the porch, waving to Andrew and Yvonne, who were just driving away. Graham’s arm was around her shoulders.

  “They’re special people. I’m glad to have them in my life.” He glanced down at her. “Let’s go find you a room, or would you like a nightcap?”

  Margaret followed him into the house. She wished there was something she could do to keep busy, but they’d already cleaned the kitchen. She’d been pleasantly surprised when both Graham and Andrew pitched in to help. Josh was always missing when any work had to be done in the kitchen.

  “A nightcap sounds nice,” she said, and walked straight into Graham. He’d stopped and turned but because she was looking down, she didn’t see him in time. His arms closed around her upper arms. Her hands came to rest on his torso.

  She looked up at him, acutely aware of the warm, male body beneath her fingers. His eyes darkened, but he dropped his hands and quickly stepped back. Turning around, he walked down the long corridor.

  “Come on, let’s find you a room. You can’t have a nightcap. You’re far too distracting.”

  Margaret swallowed and trailed unhurriedly after him, up the stairs. The bedrooms were all on the second story of the house. Gravity had no influence over her and she could swear she was walking on air. She hugged herself. Suddenly, she was calm. She now knew exactly what she wanted.

  ***

  Graham turned around to her when he reached the first bedroom door. The sooner she was behind a locked door, the better for him, for her, for...just better. He’d invited Andrew and Yvonne mostly because he didn’t think he would be able to keep his hands to himself if the two of them were alone. He didn’t want Margaret to think he’d lured her to his home to have his wicked way with her. Although that had been exactly all he’d been thinking about since he’d seen her earlier in the day.

  Actually, it was all he’d been able to think about since their last kiss. After he had realized she was looking for something much more long-term than he was prepared for, he’d vowed to keep away from her, even if it meant he had to look for other places to surf. But a few days later, he was back in Kommetjie. He had thought he could go there and be satisfied not to see her.

  And then he’d nearly drowned. All he could think about while he was struggling with the surfer was he wasn’t going to get another chance to see Margaret, to touch her, to be with her. He was sitting in the ambulance thinking about her when she’d appeared in front of him, out of nowhere. And the look in her eyes... He inhaled slowly. That look was the reason he had gone into town today, hoping to talk her into coming to his house. She’d been worried about him. And there was something else there, too. He didn’t want to think about that too much, but the fact she had clearly been worried had to mean something, right?

  And here she was. Ever since he’d brought her here, he couldn’t seem to get images of her—on his bed, wrapped around him—out of his head. He could picture her honey-blond hair spread out over his pillow, could smell her distinctive scent, imagined how she would feel beneath him.

  “This is not helping, Connelly, not helping,” he muttered to himself before he turned around with a forced smile on his face. “Well, I think this one will do.” He gestured inside the room. “There is an adjacent bathroom.”

  Margaret peered inside, then looked up at him. “No, I don’t want to sleep here,” she said, and walked on down the corridor. Her hair had been pinned up but now she was taking out the pins as she walked.

  Graham pushed his fingers through his hair. What the hell? “Well, the next three all look like this one. You can pick any one.” Something was going on here and he wasn’t sure whether he was reading the signs correctly.

  He opened the door to the next bedroom, Margaret took out another pin, peered inside and shook her head. Her hair cascaded down onto her shoulders. His hands itched to grab hold of it, but he walked on and opened the next bedroom door. She looked over his shoulder this time and shook her head again. His mouth was dry, his heart beating in overdrive. What was she up to?

  “Well, this is the last guest room,” he said, and opened the door. This time, she walked in and looked around, even opened the bathroom door as well. Then she came back to him where he was standing just inside the door, and shook her head again.

  “No, I don’t want to sleep here either,” she said, and looked up at him. “Show me the other room,” she said softly and took his hand.

  Graham could literally feel the blood leaving his brain and dropping down to the lower part of his body. He was harder than he’d ever been.

  “It’s my room,” he said softly.

  “I know.” She smiled.

  Gently, he pulled her closer, making sure she knew exactly what she was doing to him. He rocked her against his erection.

  “Are you sure? Because I don’t know if I would be able to stop after this. I’ve wanted you for forever, I think. So, are you sure?”

  “I’m very sure. Will you please undress me, Graham?” she asked with a twinkle in her eyes.

  He barked out a laugh, picked h
er up, and walked quickly to his own room. He rained kisses all over her face. “Told you so,” he teased. “I will gladly, very gladly undress you, Margaret. In fact, I’ve been undressing you every night since I met you.”

  “You have? Then you should be extremely good at it, I think.” She giggled.

  In his room, he slid her down his body then boldly cupped her buttocks in his hands and pulled her even closer to him. And then their smiles vanished.

  With hands not quite steady, he pushed her hair back gently and folded his hands around her face. She kept her eyes open: desire was clouding her green eyes. Desire, for him. He groaned and caught her lips with his.

  What happened next nearly brought him to his knees. He’d never experienced anything like it before. It was as if he was inside Margaret, as if he knew exactly where he should touch her to please her, knew exactly what to do to make her whimper, where to trail his kisses to find all the most sensitive spots.

  Margaret clutched Graham’s shoulders to steady herself. Gravity was failing her: she was floating on a cloud. She tried to get closer to him, she had to touch him, had to feel his warm flesh with her hands. While he kissed her, she frantically opened the buttons on his shirt so her hands could roam his wide chest to her heart’s delight. Her senses took over any rational thought she might have had. She tasted Graham, inhaled his male scent, moved her fingers over his rippling muscles, and marveled at the quickening of his breath.

  Graham’s gaze locked with hers, his eyes darkened by desire. He shrugged off his shirt and then there was no barrier in her way, she could slide her hands up his arms, around his shoulders.

  His hands found the zipper on the back of the cool shift she was wearing and he smoothly slid it down. With his eyes on hers, he slipped the dress over her shoulders. It dropped to the floor, pooling at her feet.

  Shyly, Margaret looked up at him. All she was left wearing was white lace. He inhaled sharply and cupped her aching breasts. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured, and bent his head. And for that moment, she was the most beautiful woman in the world.

  Her head fell back and his lips followed a path down her cheek, her neck, until he found the sensitive spot behind her ear, then the one behind the other ear. Time stood still while one sensation after another flooded her body.

  His hands travelled boldly over her, touching, kneading, caressing, until she wasn’t sure where she began or he ended. Unfamiliar feelings and desires threatened to completely overwhelm her. Her legs buckled and he lifted her up in his arms again.

  “Bed, we need the bed,” he managed to get out through clenched teeth.

  Graham put her down tenderly, his gaze never leaving hers. He unclipped her bra and pulled it away. His hands moved over her, lace and satin disappeared, while his fingers caressed every centimeter of her body. Oxygen, she needed oxygen.

  She was now completely naked and open to his searing gaze. Her whole body was on fire, burning with an intense need for this man. Graham stepped back and quickly got rid of the rest of his clothes. Her eyes travelled down his magnificent body. He was gloriously aroused.

  He kneeled over her and froze when her hands found their way to his broad shoulders, moved down his chest, then went lower still until she could cup his manhood.

  Groaning, he removed her hand. “I...you have to stop, otherwise this will be over before we’ve even begun.” His whispered words inflamed her already intense desire.

  He locked both her hands in one of his and raised them above her head. “Let me...” was the last thing she heard. He bent down and when his mouth closed over her naked breast, the roaring in her ears shut out any other sound. This was too much, too intense...

  But there was more, she realized in the next breath. He looked up and with his eyes burning in hers, his hand travelled gently down her body, swept down one leg only to return unhurriedly to the center of her womanhood. Finally, he touched her softly and found her wet and ready for him. He smiled triumphantly.

  “For me?”

  Margaret had lost the ability to speak and could only nod. Spreading her legs, she held her arms out to him. His fingers began an onslaught of their own. Finding her center, he circled and rubbed until nothing else existed but the two of them.

  “Don’t stop, please don’t ever stop,” she whispered haltingly in between kisses. His every stroke, every caress egged her on to surrender completely and she could feel herself spiraling toward the edge of an incredibly steep cliff. For one more second she tried to hold on to the extraordinary feeling, but could feel herself splintering like glass as she finally soared and went over a precipice.

  Graham looked down in awe at the woman in his arms. He’d never seen anything so beautiful, never experienced anything this intense. It was as if he were making love for the first time, as if every sensation was new to him.

  And while she was still flying, he sheathed himself to protect her, rose above her, and found his way home. Her eyes flew open, still dazed with passion. Her long legs locked around him, her arms pulled him closer, and when he began to move, she met him thrust for thrust, her eyes never leaving his.

  Something inside him broke free as he watched her writhe beneath him. He was aware of every centimeter of her long, smooth limbs against his body. His very soul was steeped in her scent. He tried to make it last, tried to rein himself in, but she bucked once more beneath him. Her eyes glazed over when a second climax slammed into her. She sobbed out his name, he gripped her hands in his. He threw back his head and with her name on his lips, followed her over the cliff.

  Seconds, minutes, hours later, he turned on his back and pulled Margaret with him. She stayed where he put her, sprawled over him, her breathing as erratic as his own. With unsteady fingers, he combed through the soft silk of her hair. He was wrenched open, vulnerable, and wasn’t quite comfortable with the feeling.

  “You okay?” he murmured.

  She took a few steadying breaths, then lifted her head slightly. “I’m not sure. Are you?”

  Their eyes met and that was all it took to make him want her all over again. “You’re lying on top of me, I’m definitely okay,” he teased.

  She hurriedly tried to move, but he caught her arms and dragged her up his body. “I’m not finished with you yet,” he whispered, and rolled her over so that she was underneath him again. Her eyes widened when she felt his desire.

  “Already?” she breathed in wonder, and he grinned, feeling ten feet tall. He caught her sigh in his mouth when she melted underneath him. He suckled, savored, and cherished her until nothing else mattered but this soft woman in his arms.

  ***

  Stretching, Margaret gradually became aware she was not in her own bed. She opened her eyes and looked around. This was Graham’s room; she was in Graham’s bed, wearing...nothing, she discovered as she lifted the sheet. She smiled.

  Wow. What a night. Vivid images of what had happened flashed in front of her. She didn’t think they’d slept more than a couple of hours, if that. One just had to accidentally brush against the other, and they would both be wide awake, ready for each other. He took her to heights she didn’t know existed, got her to respond in ways she didn’t think were possible.

  She heard a noise at the door and looked up. Graham came in, holding a tray.

  “If you don’t have coffee, I’m going to get nasty,” she threatened, trying to sit upright without dropping the sheet she was holding in front of her. She didn’t know why, after everything that had happened, but in the glaring daylight it was difficult not to be shy.

  “It’s coffee. Something told me...” Graham stopped talking.

  Margaret looked up. His jaw moved. His gaze was on the sheet. She glanced down. One side had managed to slip down to reveal one of her breasts.

  In the next instant Graham put down the tray, got rid of his clothes and was kissing her as if he had a thirst to quench. His whole body was shivering.

  She curled her arms around his neck to try and pacify him, but he cau
ght her lips in a brutal onslaught and she was swept away with him in a storm of passion. The coffee was going to be cold.

  ***

  Graham put on the kettle to make a fresh pot of coffee. They never got around to drinking the first one. One glimpse of her round breast had turned him into a teenager with raging hormones and he had literally jumped her bones. He’d been so sure after one night of wild sex, he would have gotten her out of his system, would be rid of this persistent ache inside of him whenever he thought of her.

  After what had just happened, he knew he wasn’t going to get enough of her any time soon. Maybe never. He frowned at the thought. They had to talk about this. They should be able to work something out to their mutual satisfaction. He smiled. They were both completely satisfied at this point, of that, at least, he was sure.

  He turned around when he heard a sound behind him. There she was, pretty as a picture. He quickly looked down at the coffee when all he really wanted to do was drag her back to bed and keep her there until neither of them had any breath left. Surely he should be able to keep his hands to himself until they had discussed the situation?

  “Sit on over there. If you are too close, I won’t be able to keep my hands to myself,” he grumbled. He put a mug of coffee on the opposite side of the table.

  Margaret sat down gingerly. She was aching in unfamiliar places. She glanced up at Graham and the look in his eyes left her blushing furiously.

  He laughed delightedly. “You blush? After last night, you still blush?” he teased and she buried her nose in the coffee mug.

  “No, I’m not blushing, I’m just hot.” And she blushed again.

  Graham picked up her hand and brought it to his lips. “I know,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows.

  Margaret laughed and looked at him. Her hand was still in his and he absentmindedly rubbed it with his thumb.

  “Margaret, I...we...” He raked his other hand through his hair. “Last night was great. Best sex ever, no competition. So, what do you say? Move in with me?”

  It was as if someone had pushed a sword right through her heart. She could actually feel it bleeding. She quietly put down the mug and stood up. Frantically, she looked around for her bag and remembered she’d left it near the front door. She walked out of the kitchen to find it.

 

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