House Calls: Callaghan Brothers, Book 3

by Zanders, Abbie

  “Relax your throat,” he rasped, feeling his control slipping away as the sweat covered his body. “Take me deeper, Maggie.”

  She did. She tilted her head and opened for him and he was able to slide in deep enough to feel the back of her throat. Tiny, careful movements – he didn’t want to overwhelm her - sent colored lights bursting behind his eyes; his balls began to tingle with the warnings of his rising seed. He pulled back and she clamped down around him with her lips, sucking hard.

  “Fuck!” he cried out, grasping her head. “Maggie, stop. It’s too good, baby. You’re going to make me come.”

  She didn’t stop, the defiant little wench. She sucked him harder, dropping down over his shaft and taking him deep again, snuggling her body closer against the inside of his legs. “Baby, stop, please. I’m going to come in that mouth – that sweet fucking mouth...”

  One hand continued to stroke in time with her pulls, the other stopped fondling to give a gentle tug, followed by a light squeeze.

  He couldn’t stop it now, it was coming, he was coming, and it was going to be hard and fast. Afraid that she might not take well to that, he tried to pull back, but she fought him. The first jet hit the back of her throat and she swallowed. The second hit the roof of her mouth as he held her head in place while he retracted his hips. The third covered her lips. Still she struggled against him, reaching greedily for more.

  “Maggie...” He moaned her name in agony, in ecstasy. When he finally released her, shuddering as he fell back, she took him in her mouth again, more gently this time, and cleaned him from base to tip.

  He reached down and pulled her onto him. She curled up onto his chest as he held her tightly, afraid to let go for even a moment, because she was the only thing anchoring him at that moment. His mind, his heart, his soul were soaring somewhere far away, but Maggie would hold onto him, help him find his way back.

  So beautiful, he thought later, as he stared upon her face. Like an angel. An angel who only a short time earlier had taken him well beyond anything he’d ever experienced. It wasn’t the act itself that had awed him. It was the selflessness, the way she had completely given herself over to pleasing him. He felt not just her hands and mouth, but the love and need she had for him, and it was his undoing.

  There were no words he could speak, nothing he could say that could remotely begin to express what he felt in his heart at that moment. He knew only that without a doubt, he would never, ever let her go.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Well?” she asked the next morning as Michael inspected her leg.

  “It doesn’t appear to be any worse,” he said finally. Reluctantly. He’d wanted to find something, anything that would give him a reason to make her uphold her end of their bargain. She’d had a restless night, yet when he asked her about it, she refused to admit anything was wrong.

  “What did you use in the poultice?”

  “Slippery elm, marsh penny, vervain, -“

  Michael was grudgingly impressed. All of those things had been utilized for their healing properties for generations. He’d been doing a lot of research on organics over the past year on Lexi’s behalf. Lexi suffered a rare blood disease that made even the simplest injuries life threatening. The medicines she’d had to take were sometimes worse than the disease itself, but she was thriving on ancient homeopathic remedies consisting of exotic-sounding roots and extracts.

  “You have all that?”

  Maggie nodded. “My grandmother didn’t put much faith in the modern healthcare system. She kept her own garden, and taught me to do the same.”

  At least now he was beginning to get an idea of where Maggie’s aversion to medicine came from. A sudden memory struck him. “Wait a minute. Your grandmother – she was the healer, wasn’t she?”

  “She never claimed to be a healer,” Maggie said carefully, “but many came to her for help when traditional medicine didn’t work.”

  “My father swore by a paste – used to call it Angels and Demons or something...”

  “Probably a mixture of Angelica and Devil’s Claw,” Maggie said thoughtfully. “Gram used to make a compress that was good for things like arthritis or deep bone and joint injuries. Lots of people used to come to her for it.”

  Michael’s jaw dropped. “Do you know how to make it?”

  Maggie shrugged. “Sure. I still make it regularly for some of Gram’s old friends. Takes a bit of time, though. You need to extract the oil from the Angelica and steep the Devil’s Claw for the better part of a day. Why?”

  “My father says it was the only thing that ever helped him.”

  The corners of her mouth quirked. “Is it now?”

  For some reason, that hint of an Irish brogue that slipped into her speech sometimes drove him wild. He resisted the sudden compulsive urge to toss her onto her back and give her a good, old-fashioned tuppin’, as she would say. Instead, he gave her a rueful grin, adopting a brogue of his own. “Aye, Maggie, ‘tis true enough.”

  She laughed, sending waves of warmth through him. “And that’s hard for you to accept, isn’t it?”

  “Not as much as you might think,” he answered honestly. “I’d choose a natural remedy over an artificial one every time, providing it works.” He placed his hands on the bed at either side of her hips, effectively caging her in while he pinned her with that clear blue gaze. “But at least my father let me run tests to properly diagnose the problem first.”

  Maggie wiggled free. “I bet he just did it to stop you from nagging him constantly.”

  It was Michael’s turn to laugh. “You might be right.” He turned, reaching out and catching her easily. “I don’t give up easily, you know.”

  She leaned heavily against him, avoiding his eyes, but he was not fooled. “Please, Maggie. Just let me take you in and give you a thorough exam for my own piece of mind.”

  “A deal’s a deal,” she said, false brightness coloring her tone. “You wouldn’t go back on your word now, would you?”

  His lips thinned. “No, but - ”

  “Good,” she said, interrupting him. “Then that’s settled, and we don’t have to speak of it again.”

  Michael left with a growing feeling of unease, exacerbated by the fact that Maggie seemed to be hurrying him along. “Go!” she said, playfully swatting him. “I’ll meet you at the wedding tomorrow.”

  He’d wanted to come and pick her up himself, but she would not hear of it. He had too much to do, she’d said, and insisted she would be fine.

  * * *

  The moment Michael left, Maggie nearly collapsed against the closed door. The pain behind her eye was excruciating; it had been all she could do not to let Michael know. He suspected something, she was sure of it, but thankfully, he was still reluctant to push too hard.

  She half-walked, half-crawled to the bathroom. She poured a few of the pain pills he’d left her the other night into her palm and gulped them down with a cup of water. Without even bothering to undress, she sat down in the shower stall and turned the hot water on full blast. The excessive heat and steam dulled the pain temporarily until the meds had a chance to work. Then she forced herself to make the short trip back to the bed. Peeling off her wet clothes, she buried herself under the covers that still smelled of Michael and sex, losing herself to the blessed darkness.

  Saturday dawned clear and sunny. After sleeping for nearly twenty hours straight, Maggie forced herself out of bed. She was moving slowly, but she was moving. The pain in her head had reduced to a dull ache. Her vision was somewhat blurry, but she chalked that up to the meds. Whatever they were, they were powerful. In retrospect, maybe she shouldn’t have taken as many as she did, but there was no sense worrying about that now.

  It took her a while to realize the ringing was coming from her telephone and not her head.

  “Hello?” The word was slurred.

  “Maggie? Maggie! Are you alright?”

  She yawned. “Michael?”

  “Damn it, Maggie, why haven
’t you been answering your phone?”

  “I guess I fell asleep.”

  “I’m on my way over there right now.”

  “Don’t be silly, Michael.” Another yawn. “I feel much better. Refreshed, even. I’ll see you at the wedding, okay?”

  Silence hung heavily over the line. “Michael?”

  “If you are not there I’m coming for you, Maggie, wedding or not.”

  She sighed, sensing it was no empty threat. There was no way Maggie would want him to skip out on his brother’s wedding because of her. She would be mortified. “I’ll be there.”

  “Maggie?”

  “Hmm?”

  “I love you. I’ll be waiting for you.” Michael hung up before she could reply, leaving her to stare at the phone. Okay, she thought. That cut through the fog.

  * * *

  Michael paced back and forth along the vestibule. He and his brothers – Ian and Jake excluded – were seating the guests as they arrived.

  “Relax, Mick,” Kane said under his breath. “You’re acting like you’re the one getting married.”

  Michael checked his watch. Twelve fifty-five. Far above, the church bells tolled, signaling a last call. The wedding would be starting in five minutes. He saw the priest signaling them toward the back. “She should be here by now.”

  Finally he spotted her. Somehow she’d slipped in along the side and was quietly making her way into the back pew. She caught his eye and smiled apologetically. He took one step toward her before Kane caught his arm.

  “That her?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Thank God. Now let’s go.”

  Kane forcibly guided Michael toward the front of the church where the groomsmen were lining up – not an easy thing to do, but Kane was the oldest and biggest among them. Michael looked back, but Maggie had already vanished.

  It took a while for him to spot her again. She was in the very back corner, sitting in the shadows of one of the alcoves. Throughout the ceremony, Michael kept her in his peripheral vision, afraid that she might attempt to sneak out before he could get to her. Something was wrong, he felt it in his very bones, and he wouldn’t be satisfied until he could look into her eyes and see for himself that she was alright.

  At the conclusion of the Mass, Michael made a beeline for that section. He caught her just as she tried to slip out one of the side doors.

  “Going somewhere?”

  She turned, a mixture of surprise and guilt on her face. For several moments, he was speechless. Her hair was drawn up, held in place by antique silver combs that allowed narrow waves of dark red to cascade around her face. Her eyes were lightly outlined in a dark charcoal gray, accentuating the crystalline green. Her skin was pale, but flawless. The dress she wore was simple, but exquisite; a sheath of dark gray silk that fit her like a glove from the hips up, falling into an irregular cascade down to just below her knees.

  * * *

  Maggie found it hard to form a coherent thought. From a distance, he’d looked stunning. But this close, he literally took her breath away. Dressed in his black tux, he was devastatingly handsome.

  He held out his hand; there was no other option but to take it. “Come with me.” His voice, low and soft, sent shivers through her, and she found herself wanting to obey without question.

  “Don’t you have, uh, wedding stuff to do?”

  He smiled, and she swore her knees actually went weak from it. “Yes, but I want you with me.”

  “I don’t think –“

  “Don’t think,” he commanded softly in her ear as he placed his hand along the small of her back. “Just be with me. Otherwise I’ll be forced to do something that will end up embarrassing us both.” His voice was low, silky, and so suggestive it had her moist between the thighs.

  Maybe it was the look in his eyes, maybe it was the tone of his voice, or the expression on his face, but she didn’t argue. He led her into a quiet room and closed the door softly behind them. Before she knew what was happening, his mouth was on hers and he was kissing her as if his life depended on it.

  “Don’t scare me like that again,” he said finally, pulling away and allowing her to catch her breath. “Please.” He stepped back enough to study her from head to toe, running his fingers over her as if checking for further injuries.

  His kiss had been so possessive, so commanding, she was unable to reply. He didn’t seem to be expecting one anyway. He took her hand and led her back into the church, now mostly empty.

  “Please wait here. We need to do some pictures, okay?” He nudged her into a pew.

  She nodded. With one last quick kiss, he joined the rest of the party before the altar. One by one they glanced her way. The bride smiled warmly and said something to Michael. He nodded, and the groom laughed, clasping him on the shoulder.

  * * *

  “So that’s my future sister-in-law, huh?” Lexi asked, looking at the woman trying unsuccessfully to blend into the shadows, but it was impossible. The woman was beautiful.

  “Welcome to the club, brother,” Ian laughed softly.

  “Another one bites the dust,” Kieran lamented, reiterating Shane’s earlier assessment.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The Celtic Goddess was one of the most opulent structures Maggie had ever seen. Huge white columns and arches divided the massive space. Built in the style of an ancient Greek temple, it boasted a restaurant made up of several floors that looked out over the entire valley, as well as several ballrooms for private functions. It was in one of these that the reception was held.

  The Grand Ballroom was filled to capacity. The blizzard earlier in the week didn’t seem to have kept anyone away. Everywhere she looked – every table, every corner, every available space in fact – was occupied. It was a bit overwhelming, really, especially for someone as accustomed to quiet and solitude as Maggie, though it might have been much worse if everyone hadn’t seemed so happy. All around she saw friendly, smiling faces. Heard them laughing, ranging from soft chuckles to loud, raucous bellows. Arms were raised in toasts or clasping another’s back. Maggie had never seen anything like it.

  “Are they always so happy?” Maggie asked quietly. Michael’s fingers flexed lightly on the small of her back. He seemed content as long as he was touching her, and she took much comfort in that. His smile was genuine.

  “Usually, yes,” he told her. “But this is an especially happy celebration.” Michael gave her the Reader’s Digest version of the past year, explaining how they almost lost Lexi, how it had nearly torn Ian apart, and her miraculous recovery. Maggie listened with rapt attention.

  “If Lexi had been up front with Ian,” Michael added softly, “she could have saved everyone a lot of heartache. It nearly killed Ian. And her.”

  Maggie looked down at their joined hands. When she spoke, her voice was even softer than his. “If she had, then she never would have experienced half the things she did. Ian would never have allowed it, would he?”

  “Of course not! She could have died, Maggie, and she would have taken Ian with her. Nothing is worth that.”

  “Some things are.”

  Michael opened his mouth, but before he could respond another voice piped up. “She’s right, you know.”

  They both turned, startled to find that Lexi and Ian were behind them. Lexi had a soft, gentle smile on her face, but the expression on Ian’s face more closely resembled the denial on Michael’s. Maggie was mortified to realize they had overheard them.

  “I’m so sorry,” Maggie sputtered. “I didn’t mean –“

  “It’s alright,” Lexi said, placing her hand on Maggie’s arm. “You’re probably the only one here who didn’t know.” She leaned a little closer with a conspiratorial smile. “There’s not a lot of secrets in this family, you’ll find.”

  Lexi lifted up onto her tip-toes and kissed Michael on the cheek. “Except maybe where this guy is concerned,” she amended, a twinkle in her eye. “He’s the strong, silent type. Definitely not one to kiss a
nd tell.”

  Maggie felt the heat rise in her cheeks, wishing her skin tone wasn’t quite so pale.

  “Ah, she blushes,” Ian chuckled softly. “She’s a keeper, Mick.”

  “Way ahead of you,” Michael said, smiling easily as he formally introduced Maggie to the bride and groom.

  “Mind if I sit for a bit?” Lexi asked. Before she even got the words fully out Ian was pulling out a chair for her and easing her into it. Maggie marveled at the way he looked at her – like she was everything to him. She saw the same look mirrored in Lexi’s eyes.

  “How are you holding up, Lex?” Michael asked. Maggie instantly recognized the look of genuine concern and affection in his voice as he naturally slipped into what Maggie had dubbed his “doctor mode”. Rather than being annoyed by it, as she would have been, Lexi seemed appreciative.

  “Good,” she answered. “But I’m slowing down a little. I could use a little help.”

  Maggie was amazed at how Lexi could ask so easily for help. She would have found it next to impossible. Michael’s response was immediate.

  “You got it, Lex,” he said with a dazzling smile. “Anything for my favorite sister.”

  “Hey, I thought I was your favorite,” another voice said with mock hurt as Taryn and Jake joined them.

  “She’s nicer to me than you are,” Michael said seriously, but his eyes were dancing.

  Taryn laughed, stretching up onto the tips of her toes and giving him a kiss. “I love you, too, big guy.”

  Maggie smiled. Apparently these women were quite fond of Michael. A slight stab of jealousy went through her at their obvious closeness to him, but one look at the total possession in their husbands’ expressions and their unquestionable love for each other and she knew she had no reason to feel that way.

  “Maggie, I need to get something for Lex. You’ll be okay for a few minutes?”

  “She’ll be fine, Michael. We promise we won’t corrupt her while you’re gone. Much.” Turning to Maggie, she said, “I’m Taryn, by the way. This is Jake.” Maggie shook the hand of the large man next to her, recognizing him as the man she’d first seen at Ian’s bachelor party.