by Carly Bloom
As if he needed any more tricks, Travis proved to be a mind reader and hooked his thumbs in her panties, yanking them down in one swift move before tossing them over his shoulder. “Open your legs.”
Ooh…there was that voice again. Low. Commanding. A hint of a growl. But it couldn’t stamp out the stupid sense of modesty currently keeping her knees glued together. “It’s really bright in here.”
“I’m not turning off the light. We just got to the best part.”
Maggie chewed on her lip and pulled her knees up.
“One,” Travis said.
The menacing undertone nearly did it for her.
“Two.”
She could do it.
“Three.”
Nothing.
Travis put his hands on her knees. “Give me permission. It’ll be over before you know it.”
Maybe…“Okay—”
Bam. He slammed her knees open before she could add, I guess.
Travis held her knees firmly in place. She was trapped. At his mercy. Displayed.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered. “I have to taste you.”
This is the part where the Big Bad Wolf eats Little Red Riding Hood.
Maggie stilled. Why had the wolf’s voice butted in? There was no room for him in here. Was her mind playing tricks on her?
Travis’s warm mouth erased that thought, and any that tried to form after it. Rough beard. Soft tongue. The sensation of being devoured. A low primal moan that she vaguely recognized as her own voice resonated in her head.
Her skin tingled. Her bones hummed. And when Travis’s fingers traveled up her rib cage to pinch her nipples, she completely fell apart, trembling beneath waves of pleasure. And then she was floating…until Travis wrenched her knees apart with a gasp.
She’d been squeezing his head between her thighs.
“Sorry,” she wheezed, still trying to catch her breath.
Travis grinned goofily. “It would have been a good way to die.”
Slowly, he crawled up her body until they were nose to nose. She lost herself in his blue eyes, and even though she was thoroughly wrecked, she was madly looking forward to what came next.
“This has to be a dream. Pinch me.”
Travis’s eyes became a shade or two darker. “I just did. And you tried to strangle me with your thighs.”
The flush crawled up Maggie’s chest, spread to her cheeks, and lit up her ears. He’d noticed what had pushed her over the edge.
“If this is a dream,” Travis continued, “I hope we never wake up.”
She pulled his face back to hers, wanting his lips, wanting the full weight of him crushing her and holding her down. The bed shook as Travis fumbled around in the nightstand drawer without breaking the kiss. He was getting a condom. At least one of them still had the mental faculties to be responsible.
After he’d slipped it on, he kissed her sweetly and then gently—oh so gently—eased himself inside her. She wrapped her legs around him as he moved slowly and rhythmically. The man knew what he was doing. This was a delicious prelude, but Maggie longed for the pace to quicken, the intensity to deepen—
Travis moaned and bit his bottom lip as if trying to control himself. He was holding back, and she didn’t want him to. She wanted him to give her everything, but how could she ask for what she needed? She dug her heels into his very fine butt cheeks and pulled on his shoulders.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Yes, I just want…” She couldn’t finish.
“What do you want, baby?”
There it was again. The way he said baby. The sound of it made her tremble to her core.
“Maybe faster. Try it faster. Or harder. Or…something.” She squeezed her eyes shut in embarrassment. “I think I like it hard.”
Travis quit moving. He was frozen above her, inside her. She opened one eye for a quick peek at his face. Had she stunned him into silence?
Those eyes. Heavy lidded yet so intense she could feel their gaze. His mouth was drawn in a tight, straight line. Nostrils were flared. A tiny vein pulsed on his forehead.
Maggie dug her fingernails into his shoulders. He winced, and after a sudden, gasping breath, he grabbed both of her wrists easily with one hand. Before she could even squeak, he pinned them above her head.
Oh, yes. This was it. This was what she wanted. “Travis—”
His breath teased her ear, setting her on fire. “Open your legs and take this cock.”
Her breath caught. She was so turned on she couldn’t move.
“Now,” he growled.
Her legs responded like good little soldiers, unwrapping themselves from his back and falling open, knees raised. “Take me.”
Luckily, he didn’t need to be told twice.
* * *
Maggie lay next to Travis, listening to his soft snores compete with the ticking of the clock in the hall. While he’d done the man-thing and immediately fallen unconscious, she was wide awake. Her mind hummed along like a hamster on speed.
Best. Sex. Of. Her. Life. Not only was it steamy and, well, just the way she apparently liked it, it was sweet and funny. That striptease! Those ridiculous countdowns to get her clothes off! Followed by heat. So much heat. How had she gotten this lucky? Travis was literally everything she’d ever wanted.
So why was she unsettled? She felt as if she’d missed a doctor’s appointment or failed to pick up the one thing she’d gone to the store for. Maybe it had something to do with work. It would come back to her if she could just freaking relax.
Travis had left the nightstand drawer open after rummaging for a condom. She’d somehow ended up on that side of the bed, and the open drawer stared up at her. She wasn’t much of a snooper, but as she went to close it, the light from the hallway made it easy to spot condoms, sore muscle cream, and a book—Bound and Determined! How adorable and hilarious. She covered her mouth to keep from laughing.
She was about to close the drawer when a phone caught her eye. It wasn’t the one Travis regularly used, but it was the same model. Why would he have a second phone in his drawer? She frowned. This shouldn’t give her pause. She probably had four or five old phones tucked away in various places.
Her hamster mind spoke up. Phones are used for texting. By wolves.
Maggie sat up, pulling the sheet against her. This meant nothing. Absolutely nothing. And why was she thinking about the wolf anyway? She was just doing that worrying thing she sometimes did in the middle of the night.
She looked down. One of Travis’s boots poked out from beneath the bed. A square toe. Dressy, but very worn. Just like the wolf’s.
She sniffed the sheet. At one point tonight, Travis’s cologne had sparked a flashback to the night in the shed. She’d brushed it off, feeling guilty for fantasizing about the wolf while she was with Travis.
Open your legs and take this cock.
Maggie gasped. She dropped the sheet and stood up, naked and shivering. She looked at Travis, sleeping peacefully. What was his jawline like beneath the beard? Her eyes darted around the room and spotted her jeans on the floor. She grabbed them and slipped them on, because she suddenly couldn’t stand being naked. Too vulnerable. Her red sweater was also on the floor. Where was her bra? No matter. She pulled the sweater over her head. Stepped into one of her boots while looking around for the other one.
“Maggie, is everything okay?”
That voice!
A lamp flicked on, and she winced in its harsh light. Travis sat up sleepily, rubbing his eyes.
His eyes. She’d believed their familiarity was because of high school. But it was more than that. Way more than that.
She limped to the side of the bed, wearing only one boot. Maybe its partner had been kicked underneath when she’d tossed it off with wild abandon. This was all she needed to focus on…getting dressed. Nothing else. Not the way Travis’s body had felt like the wolf’s. Not the way his forceful thrusts and animalistic groans had driven her insane, or the way she’d gleefully
submitted, feeling safe and secure—what a joke—and just like Little Red Riding Hood.
She looked under the bed.
“I figured you’d stay the night,” Travis said.
Maggie had to stop searching for her boot to find her voice. “Henry will be home in the morning. It would confuse him.”
“I don’t think he’d be confused. He knows we’re wrestling partners.”
Don’t be cute and funny right now. “Tomorrow’s Black Friday, remember? I’ve got to work.”
“Just get up early—”
“No, I’ve got stuff to take care of at home.”
“Like what?”
“Pop needs to go out.”
“Go get him. He can stay over, too.”
He wasn’t going to give up. “What part of no do you not understand?”
She’d snapped at him. His blue eyes widened in response. His mouth opened as if to speak, but then he faltered. That’s right, buddy. I’ve got your number. Or the wolf’s number. Somebody’s number.
Travis got out of bed and slipped on his jeans.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting dressed. I’m not going to walk you out naked.”
“Why would you need to walk me out? I’m perfectly capable of finding my Jeep.”
“I don’t know. Maybe because we just had soul-shattering sex?” He stuck his foot in a boot, not realizing he’d also just stuck it in his mouth.
Soul-shattering sex. That was how she’d described their night in the shed.
The two of them stood eyeing each other suspiciously, each wearing a single boot.
Maggie looked away first and picked up the bedspread they’d knocked to the floor. Where was her godforsaken boot? Maybe she’d kicked it through the open closet door.
“Listen, Maggie. We need to talk.”
Maggie walked to the closet. There was a very nice suit hanging up. Same color as the wolf’s. She touched the jacket sleeve. Same fabric. The feel of it against her finger triggered memories in high definition. She shivered, then she turned to look at Travis. “I think it might be a little late for that.”
Travis paled. “I can explain.”
She didn’t want to hear it. Couldn’t hear it. “What a fun little game you’ve been playing.”
“It wasn’t a game. I just didn’t—”
“Is the mask in here, too? Do you keep them together?” She dug through the closet. Flannel shirts, T-shirts, jeans…no wolf mask. But it didn’t change anything. She was certain. Everything clicked into place. She’d recognized his very first kiss, hadn’t she? And tonight, she’d known who he was with every pant, groan, and forceful thrust. Her wolf.
And then there’d been Anna. Holy cow, just how many hints had she dropped? Of course she would know Travis had come to the gala as the Big Bad Wolf. And Maggie had been providing her with entertainment ever since.
What an idiot she was.
“I was going to tell you—”
She stomped her booted foot. “But you didn’t! All this time, and you didn’t say a word. Did you think it was funny?”
She didn’t stick around to hear his answer or to find her stupid boot. She grabbed her bag—it was right next to Henry’s telescope and wasn’t that another hilarious piece of the humiliation puzzle—and limped out the door.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Black Friday. In more ways than one.
Petal Pushers would rake in more money today than it had in the previous two months, and normally this obscene amount of consumerism filled Maggie’s heart with cheer. But today, instead of doing the happy dance of a retail mogul smothered in jingle bells, she sat at the cash register with her head in her hands, mindlessly rubbing Pop’s tummy with her foot.
She was ignoring Travis’s texts. She should probably block him. And the stupid wolf, too. Although he hadn’t texted since she’d broken up with him. Ugh! She had to stop thinking of Travis and the wolf as two different people.
They were one and the same.
All those texts. She’d sat in her Jeep taking orders from the wolf while Travis sat in his truck! She’d removed her panties at the library while Travis hammered nails in the gazebo! And she’d even talked to the wolf about Travis. And he’d never said a word. She’d been so thoroughly played.
She groaned and raised her head. Petal Pushers looked like Christmas had vomited all over it. Every surface was covered by wreaths, trees, bows, and ornaments. It had been cheerful earlier, but now it was disgusting. And if she heard Wham! sing “Last Christmas” one more time, she was going to explode in bloody chunks of green and red.
See? She could be festive.
Where was Claire when she needed her? Well, she knew where she was—somewhere between here and Abilene—but that wasn’t the point. Maggie pulled out her phone to send another emergency text.
Claire, where are you???????
Claire.
Claire.
Claire.
Claire.
The door jingled, followed by the tapping of Claire’s heels. It was music to Maggie’s ears, and she jumped off her stool.
“What is wrong with you?” Claire asked. “My phone thinks it hit the jackpot.”
“Travis is the Big Bad Wolf.” There. She’d spilled the beans. Said it out loud for the very first time. Right in front of Ford Jarvis. “Hi, Ford.”
She’d never heard Ford’s voice; not that she could remember anyway. And today was no exception. He nodded and smiled.
“Ford, why don’t you head out? I’ll see you later,” Claire said. Her voice sounded normal—even and tempered. But her eyes were huge and clearly said, My friend has lost her mind.
Ford seemed anxious to comply and, with a final nod at Maggie, quickly vacated the premises.
“Oh my God,” Claire said. “Have you been eating chalk?”
“What?”
“Sometimes when people have nervous breakdowns, they eat chalk.”
“Get some coffee and sit down. I’ve got a story to tell, and it begins with Once upon a time there was a Big Bad Wolf.”
Ten minutes later, Maggie’s voice was hoarse, Claire’s coffee was untouched, and George Michael was at it again, singing about how someone had thrown his heart away. “And I thought I loved him. The end,” Maggie said.
“Okay. I admit this sounds incriminating. It really does. So, let’s assume you’re right.”
“He lied to me!” Maggie wailed. “Like over and over again.”
“Well, I imagine it got kind of awkward, you know?”
“I had no idea who he was, Claire. And he knew who I was. He had all the power—”
“Why do you think he knew who you were? Initially, I mean…”
Maggie thought back to the gala. She had intentionally avoided introducing herself to him. She’d assumed he was a stranger from out of town. Maybe he’d had similar misunderstandings about her.
“But as soon as he saw me at Anna’s—that first day we worked together—he recognized me. He should have come clean.”
Claire took a sip of her cold coffee and made a face. “True. Although he was probably pretty dang shocked. And there were other people around, right? What was he supposed to say? That y’all had already met via a shed bang?”
“He could have at least said that we’d met before. And then later, when we were alone, he could have told me—”
“You accused him of child abuse at that meeting, right? Maybe he wasn’t anxious to add insult to injury.”
The boiling rage in the pit of Maggie’s stomach settled down to a simmer. Claire sounded reasonable. “It’s just that he dragged it out for so long.”
“It doesn’t mean his feelings for you aren’t real.”
“How could they be real? How could anything he said or did be real?”
“Are your feelings for him real?”
“He lied to me,” she said stubbornly.
Claire leaned closer to Maggie. “You were excited by it. So was he. This isn’t nece
ssarily a bad thing. You know what would wrap this up nicely?”
“What?”
“You, agreeing to be pre-surgery Meg Ryan in You’ve Got Mail. You meet Travis at the park. He’s wearing a wolf mask. And you say, I wanted it to be you so badly. Then you kiss. And we all go, Yay! And they lived happily ever after!”
“Real life isn’t a fairy tale, Claire.”
“I was shooting for a romantic comedy.”
The bell jingled on the door, and a blast of cold air hit Maggie in the face. She sighed. “We’ll finish this conversation later.” She turned to face the next round of customers.
It was JD. And Gabriel was with him. “Mighty Mack, we need a Christmas tree. What have you got?”
JD and Gabriel were buying a tree. Together. In Big Verde.
“I’ve got an eight-foot noble fir. That’s what you usually get, right?” JD had a gorgeous home with high ceilings, lots of windows, and a huge, sloped lawn. He always went overboard at Christmas with lights, lasers, and his Uncle Jeb in a Santa suit sipping on a flask while handing out candy canes. Miss Mills was JD’s only real competition, but whereas JD had Drunk Santa, Miss Mills believed Jesus was the reason for the season. Flying reindeer and magic elves were the work of the devil.
“The eight-footer is what we need,” JD said.
We. Gabriel’s smile outshone Maggie’s. “You know what they say about men who feel the need to buy big trees,” he said.
JD lifted the brim of his Stetson, so Gabriel could see his raised eyebrow. “But you know that’s not true, don’t you, Gabe?”
Gabriel’s complexion darkened.
Claire cleared her throat, but neither JD nor Gabriel looked up. She did it again, less subtly, sounding like an eighty-year-old man choking on a chicken bone.
JD pounded her on the back.
Claire swatted his arm away. “Who’s your friend?”
“This is Gabriel, and I imagine you heard all about him as soon as he and I left Travis’s last night.”
Claire shook Gabriel’s hand. “Pleasure to meet you. I’ve been out of town, so I’m behind on the gossip. Did y’all rob a liquor store last night? Shoot holes in the Rite Aid sign? Pinch the wrong ass at the Purple Pony?”
“We’re dating,” JD said.