Recovering Maggie

by KT Morrison

  Keely looked to Max blankly, then nodded to Maggie. “Okay,” she said. There was some concern on her face but she came up to him, looking in his eyes and kissing him. “She wants to be alone with you.”

  Now his stomach tightened hard again, excitement zipping through him too, all of it happening at once. Keely told Cole Maggie wanted to be alone, and he scooted up to sit, came behind Maggie and kissed her shoulder. She tried to kiss his lips, but he turned up his nose and laughed. Keely and Cole got off the bed together, Keely bringing the top sheet with her and wrapping herself in it like a shroud. Cole slapped her bottom, then made eye contact with Max and gave him a nod.

  They left then, going out to the living area and closing the door behind them. Maggie pulled him down to lay in the bed with her, kissing at his stomach. He lay with his head in the pillows, looking up at the tall peaked roof lined with cedar shingles, the sheet of canvas that crossed between two rafters right over the bed. Maggie’s mouth went over his cock and he jumped at the sudden pleasure. The TV switched on in the other room and he heard Keely laughing, the sound of a wine bottle singing against the rim of a glass.

  Maggie worked her magic. Bobbing, swirling, sucking. Running her tongue all over the shapes of him like she was just discovering it, though she’d been familiar with it a long time. This could have been his life. This could be his honeymoon with her. They could have shared their future forever. But ultimately: he would. He was part of her future. And she was happy, and she included him. Maybe he never would have been enough for her. Not that she wanted many men; he was almost a hundred percent sure she had only ever slept with Lee, Cole, Jay, and himself. She just happened to find the one who did it for her. Max wouldn’t have been that guy; not like Cole was.

  Maybe this was the best place for him. Her best friend. Sometimes lover. He’d take it.

  The orgasm she brought from him dragged for fifteen excruciatingly delightful minutes, like tickling nails through his insides until he thought he would scream for release. When she was his Maggie, she would have gone for an hour and loved it. Cole was the one who got the hour now.

  He coughed and cried, bucked on the bed, knees darting up as she ripped it out of him. He spewed it all in her mouth, reaching down and holding her head, wanting to cry out with joy and happiness and simultaneously clutch her head to his chest and lament her loss with braying sobs. When it was done, he collapsed back in the sheets, his heart rattling and out of control, his head throbbing.

  Next he saw her, she was sitting up, wiping at her lower lip, her long russet hair tumbling down her beautiful body, lit from behind with the glow from the opposite villas’ lights.

  He put out a hand, wanting her to join him. “Lay with me,” he said.

  She looked at him a while, her face hidden from him in the dark of her hair. She said, “I can’t, Max. Come on,” and now she backed off the bed. “Let’s go out. We’ll have some more wine …”

  “I’ll be out in a minute,” he said, still laying spread-eagle on her bed with his dripping wet cock laying back on his belly.

  “Take your time,” she said, pausing to put on a white terry robe that lay draped over the arm of a cushioned chair in the corner. Before she left, she paused at the door. “I love you, you know.”

  The words merely gripped on his already hurting heart. He said, “I know you do.” He didn’t need to say it back.

  “Come out when you’re ready,” she said, then slipped out of the room and closed the door behind her. More laughter outside, Keely again, saying something with food in her mouth and everyone laughing.

  He breathed a while. Listened to his friends, listened to the waves of the lagoon, a distant party at the resort. Life was good, and he had nothing to complain about.

  “Get the fuck up, Max,” he said to himself.

  Forearms resting on the wound metal cable strung below the railing that lined the villas decking, and seated on the wood planks with feet dangling over the water eight feet below, Max watched across the smooth and peaceful lagoon to the jagged peaks of Mt. Otemanu. A dormant volcano, but not an extinct one; the hot lava still flowed in its veins, just waiting for enough pressure to reward it with joyous, destructive propulsion.

  Right now, out in the happy turquoise water, people swam, two couples passed each other crossways in kayaks, waving to one another in polite morning greeting; all at the foot of something huge and frightening, willing to play and live in the trust of its current calm.

  Behind him now, from inside the villa, bright laughter, tinged with Irish; Keely amusing Cole uproariously. Kitchen sounds as well; a coffee maker, the pop of a top being unscrewed from a glass bottle of juice. Now Maggie laughed over something Cole said, his voice a low mumble out where Max sat on the balcony deck.

  Last night out here they’d sat and had a few glasses of wine, migrated to the hot tub and had a few more. Cole decided to go swimming and Max joined him, the two of them climbing down the ladder, despite Keely’s squeals and hopping in place, clutching at him and begging him not to go down there with the sharks. Maggie was calm, laughing and sipping her wine. They paddled in the pool of light under the villa with the girls watching above, Keely whining and laughing nervously. No sharks sighted, he and Cole waded for a while and Cole told him he was more afraid of being a father than sharks. Max told him he would be a good one, a really good dad, and he thought he would. When they climbed back up they shared a shower under the nozzle by the hot tub and they went to bed—each in their own bedrooms with their respective partners. Max went down on Keely and then they made love. He left her mouth uncovered and let her enjoy her ecstasy.

  Footsteps now, bare feet coming from behind on the hot deck. Then a call of alarm: “Whoa, Max, whoa, look out!”

  Turned to see Keely stumbling his way, a small glass of orange juice in one hand, the other hand’s fingers hooked through the handle of a steaming coffee mug printed with the St. Regis logo. Her face showed worried horror, her hand tilted like the mug’s boiling contents would splash all over him as she tripped. He didn’t even flinch, merely shook his head at her. With a giggle, she came to sit next to him, posing like him with her bare legs dangling over the ledge. She passed him his cup of coffee and he thanked her.

  After a sip of orange juice, she said, “They want to do a big brunch here at the resort. Go out and snorkel on the ocean side, look at the coral reef.” Keely watched across the lagoon like he did, the sun dappling the moving leaves of the forest that climbed the base of the volcano as high as it could go; the island gleaming in a humid haze. The sun shone from behind them, lighting up the blonde streaks in her ginger hair she tied back from her soft and pretty face. Under her white terry resort robe he knew she would be naked.

  “You’re okay with that?” he asked her.

  “Snorkeling?…”

  He nodded.

  “I can stay in the boat,” she said softly, giving him a cute grimace and a little shrug.

  He sipped his coffee, reached down and found her hand. “We’ll let them go on their own. After brunch we can just chill out. The two of us. We just got here.”

  “We did,” she said, giving his hand a little squeeze.

  “What do you want to do?” he asked her.

  “The truth—Max …?” she laughed. “I just want to stay here. Is that lazy? You and me lay out here in the sun …” She nodded her head behind her to the lounge chairs on the other side of the hot tub. “I’m exhausted. Jet lagged.”

  “Sounds perfect,” he said, raising her hand so he could kiss it, his nose bumping the diamond on her engagement ring.

  “I’m so glad you agreed to marry me” he told her.

  “Aye,” she said, “you’re lucky to have me.”

  “I am,” he agreed, looking into her eyes, the sun reflected off the waves below and shone gold slivers in her emeralds.

  With a gentle tug on her hand, he drew her in for a kiss.

  Proposing to Keely had maybe been a lot about performing for hi
s mother—he didn’t want her to die thinking he had lost Maggie, but that he’d moved on toward his future. For his mother’s sake; so she wouldn’t worry. But he hadn’t really committed. Which was crazy because Keely had a heart of gold. And she had no curiosities. She’d already spent her youth ‘getting some.’ She was a recognized pervert in her own right. She’d fucked twice as many guys as he had girls. She’d fucked Cole her first year at Farmingham. Cole sat in the Oren Glen and shown Max pictures Keely had sent him of her pussy, the whole time Max looking and liking, never suspecting he was looking at the pussy of the woman he would some day marry. No, his Keely had sown her oats and her love for him was genuine. She knew what she was getting with Max and she was fucking into it.

  “There’s nothing you’re missing with me, is there?”

  Keely had been with him long enough to know what that meant for Max and didn’t need any clarification. “Other men, Max?” she said with dubiety, the whole idea ridiculous. “You know how many dicks there are out there?”

  He frowned, and she laughed loud, throwing back her head and rolling her eyes.

  “Assholes,” she giggled. “The word is assholes—that’s what I meant. Most of them are assholes, Max. I’m the one that’s lucky. I’m lucky to have you.” She looked sweetly into his eyes as she said it, and he knew it to be true already he just liked to hear it.

  She slept with Cole only at Max’s request. She had her fill of Cole when she was at Farmingham. A three-day affair that she admitted to him saw her infatuated with young Cole and his male model looks. She got over it. She was eighteen at the time. These days she fucked Cole for fun and for Max’s benefit because he like to watch her. He’d watch her a few more times this week. What he’d had with Maggie was immature. Maggie’s sexual experience and his newfound burgeoning desire—those had been infantile, underdeveloped things. All three of them—all four of them—had grown now, and with that maturity came their respective responsibility and their acceptance of all their own truths. Even the kinkier ones.

  “Hey,” he said, though he already had her complete attention.

  “Yes?” she said now, swaying side-to-side, bumping his shoulder and taking a sip of her juice.

  “You serious you wanted to be pregnant?”

  It stopped her swaying, and she set the glass next to her on the deck. She covered her hand over the one he already held her with. Her eyes were serious, but full of wonderful emotion.

  “Fuck, yes,” she said quietly.

  “We should make some plans,” he said.

  Though she did her best to contain herself, he felt her shaking with excitement. “I wanna … I wanna pop six months after I graduate.”

  It made him smile, his Keely already planning it out, way ahead of him. “I think it’s time we made some serious moves,” he said, and he leaned to her, setting his cup down so he could hold her in his arms. In the moment before their mouths came together he saw something deep and enduring in her quivering eyes. Something honest. They kissed each other, held each other tightly.

  The sun fell on them warm and bright, a breeze crossing the lagoon tugged at their hair, water rushed and splashed against the piling somewhere below their dangling feet and inside the house Maggie turned on the stereo. Cello and bass though he didn’t know the tune; the fridge door closed, bottles clanked, a toaster popped; Maggie laughed lightly, alone in there with her husband.

  THE END

  Afterword

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  Other Books by KT Morrison

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  She’ll submit to Reza, their landlord’s son. Jonny will watch as another man takes care of his woman in every way she needs. It’s the first of the month and this is the way it is now.

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