Driven To Distraction

by Judith Duncan

  Slipping out of her shoes, she pulled the bag out of his grasp. Not wanting to discuss what had happened at her desk, she narrowed her eyes at him. “I did not flip out. And if I were you, I’d be careful what you say, Parnelli. There are three New York steaks in that bag, perfect for barbecuing. If you aren’t nice, I’ll feed yours to Captain Hook.”

  He tried to reclaim the bag, finally yanking it out of her grip, and tearing it down one side in the process. “Forget it, Burrows. You’re going to sit down in that chair, put your feet up and have a long, cold drink. Then—” he touched the end of her nose “—we’ll worry about steaks.”

  She had on a loose-fitting, dark green cotton dress with buttons up the front, the long skirt gathered onto a simple bodice just below her bust. The dress itself was cool, but she was going to die of heatstroke if she didn’t get out of her panty hose and half-slip. Tony had set the groceries on the table and was filling both glasses. Pulling her hair back off her hot face, she said as much to him. And that she needed to change.

  His back to her, Tony paused, then set down the pitcher. Turning on his heel, he came toward her with a loose-hipped saunter, a glint of mischief in his eyes. He stopped inches from her, the heat of his body reflecting off her, making her own body temperature climb several degrees. Watching her with a steady stare, he slowly—so slowly—ran his hands up the back of her legs, dragging up the fabric of her dress. “Really?” he said. “You have to change?”

  The feel of his hands moving over her flesh made her heart falter, and she had trouble catching her breath. Transfixed by his gaze, she nodded, and he moved his hands higher and kissed her again. Before she grasped his intent, he’d hooked his thumbs in the waistbands of her panty hose and slip, and quicker than lightning yanked them down. Maggie was so stunned by what he’d done and the speed with which he’d accomplished it that she stood staring at him, her mouth hanging open. Lifting one of her feet, then the other, he stripped away the garments and rose, tossing them on the table by the grocery bag. He turned back, clearly laughing at her. “So now you don’t.”

  She waved her hands and started to sputter something, but he caught her face, tipped her head back and covered her mouth in a kiss that sizzled all the way down to the tips of her toes. When he finally drew away, she was gripping his wrists and breathing as if she’d just run five miles, and her heart was pounding like a crazy thing in her chest. Shutting her eyes, she hung onto him, her senses totally off balance, the heat from their bodies making it nearly impossible to breathe.

  Still holding her face, Tony brushed a kiss on one corner of her mouth, then the other. Easing away, he stroked her cheeks with his thumbs. “Open your eyes, Maggie,” he demanded softly. “Or things are really going to get out of hand.”

  Finally able to drag some air into her lungs, she looked up at him, staggered by the erotic kick of one very long, very thorough kiss. He drew one finger along her bottom lip, then gazed at her, his eyes dark and intent. Finally he managed a small, warped smile. “I think,” he said, pausing for emphasis, “that wasn’t a very good idea.”

  Still gripping his wrists, Maggie swallowed hard and closed her eyes again, weakly resting her head against his. Lord, he could rattle her senses.

  Sliding one hand to the back of her neck, Tony squeezed lightly. “Come on,” he said, his voice still husky. “Sit down and I’ll put the groceries in the house.”

  Maggie was so shaky she wasn’t quite sure how she made it into the lounger, but the minute she had the solid frame beneath her, she tipped back her head and closed her eyes, feeling as if she’d got nailed with a high-voltage wire.

  She heard the screen door close when Tony came out; then there was the scrape of another chair on the deck. Turning her head, she opened her eyes.

  He had moved the chair right beside hers, but he had turned it around so he was facing her. It took him a couple of adjustments to get it exactly right, but when he sat down, his shoulder was aligned with her torso, his body nearly upright. Her chair was positioned in a semireclining position, and he reached over and tucked her hair back, then rubbed his knuckles along her collarbone. His gaze was dark and intimate. “How are you doing?” he asked softly.

  Maggie’s heart gave a crazy little flutter, and she eased in a deep, careful breath. “I’m doing okay.” She waited for the flutter to settle, then smoothed her hand across the back of his and gave him a small, off-center smile. “So how come you’re here? Did you run away from home?”

  He grinned at her, turning his hand to lace his fingers through hers. “After I talked to Frank, I figured you might need a little R and R.”

  Maggie experienced a swell of emotion deep in her chest, and she tightened her fingers around his, not daring to speak. Somehow he was always able to create a wonderful safety zone for her, where nothing could touch them. It was as if they were living in some sort of glass bubble that kept them separate from the real world. And maybe that’s why she had this recurring feeling of dread. All it would take was one misstep, and the bubble could shatter. But she didn’t want to think about that now; it scared her to death when she did.

  “What’s the matter, Mag?” Tony asked, his tone quiet.

  Not wanting him to know, she met his gaze, forcing a small smile. “I’m just hot and tired. And I’m glad it’s Friday.” She gave his hand a little squeeze, real amusement surfacing. “Although I’m not nearly as hot as I was.”

  He laughed and let go of her, then leaned back and ran his hand up under her dress, caressing her bare leg. “Glad to hear it.” Leaving his hand on her thigh, he turned, picked up one of the glasses of lemonade and handed it to her.

  The cold glass was wet with condensation, and Maggie closed her eyes and pressed it against her flushed face. It felt wonderful. She opened her eyes and gave him a grateful smile. “You’re a good man, Charlie Brown.”

  Leaning back in his chair, Tony took a drink from his own glass, then glanced at her, his eyes twinkling as he moved his hand higher. “Wanna go look at my etchings?”

  She trapped his hand between her legs to stop the upward assent, choking on laughter and lemonade. Her eyes watering, she shot him a look of rebuke. “You don’t have any etchings, and if you move your hand another inch higher, you’re going to be in big trouble, bucko.”

  His eyes half-closed, he grinned at her and moved his hand downward. Gently he manipulated her kneecap, sending a fizzle of sensation along her leg. “So how was your day?”

  She gave him a long, level look. “Rotten. How was yours?”

  “All aces. I got a line on a Shelby Cobra in Kansas that’s up for sale. Mario is leaving early next week to hit a bunch of shows—he’s probably going to be gone six or eight weeks—so he’s going to pick it up on the way home.” Resting his glass on the wide arm of the chair, he tipped his head back, his other hand still caressing her knee. “I ran into Big Bertha today. I guess some of the businesses are putting together a big block party and street fair for the Labor Day weekend. Wanted to know if we were interested.” He gave a small shrug. “I think it sounds like a hell of an idea.”

  They talked about that for a while, then fell into a comfortable silence, then talked some more, the heat of the day settling on them. And it was nice. It was better than nice. For Maggie, it was sheer heaven. It would never have entered Bruce’s head to take an afternoon off and spend it with her because she’d had a rotten day at work.

  But it wasn’t just that that filled her with warm fuzzies; it was how Tony made her feel. And the bottom line was that he made her feel like a woman—not just a person or a mother or a wife, but a woman.

  A very aroused woman.

  A different kind of heat radiated through her, and Maggie closed her eyes and clenched her jaw against the rush in her middle. If he didn’t quit stroking her leg, she was going to go through the deck. Or melt. Or both.

  There was the sound of a car door slamming in the back alley, and Tony slid his hand to the inside of her thigh. “I think we
’ve got company.”

  Drugged senseless by his slow, arousing touch, Maggie forced her eyes open. “Pardon?” she said, her mouth very dry.

  He grinned at her. “I think I hear your daughter coming, cookie,” he said, giving her leg a firm squeeze.

  He might as well have dumped the pitcher of ice-cold lemonade in her lap. Bolting upright, she thrust his hand away and shoved down her dress, totally flustered.

  Laughter dancing in his eyes, Tony folded his arms across his tanned chest and watched her, clearly amused. “Shame on you, Mary Margaret. You’re such a hussy.”

  She shot him a disparaging look, then straightened the fabric across her knees. Tony laughed at her, and she wasn’t sure if she should laugh back or smack him.

  Kelly came up the walk, the straps of her backpack slung over one shoulder. She grinned at her mother. “Are you guys playing hooky again?”

  His back to Kelly, Tony cocked one eyebrow at Maggie, the devil in his eyes. “Later,” he mouthed, and Maggie felt herself blush to the roots of her hair.

  “Frank let me off early,” she answered, her voice cracking a little. Clearing her throat, she tried to act halfway normal. “How was your day?”

  Kelly had a summer job teaching handicapped kids to swim, and she loved every minute of it. The teenager dropped her backpack on the deck, then poured some lemonade into Tony’s empty glass. “Great. Michael—he’s one of our Down’s syndrome kids—actually got his face in the water today.” She drank the lemonade and set the glass back on the table. Locking her hands together, she stretched her arms over her head. “So it was a really good day. So what are you guys up to?”

  Maggie glanced at Tony, narrowing her eyes at him. “Nothing,” she said pointedly. “Not one thing.”

  He gave her a grin loaded with innuendo. “Later,” he said, clearly enjoying himself. “We’ll do something later. After it cools off.”

  Oblivious to what was really going on, Kelly fished a piece of ice out of the glass and popped it in her mouth. “You guys should take the Harley out for a spin later. Drive out to Banff.”

  Tony answered, “Maybe tomorrow. The traffic will be nuts tonight, and I don’t want to take your mom out there when everybody’ll be driving like idiots.”

  Kelly grimaced in acknowledgment. “Never thought of that.” She picked up her backpack and slung it over her shoulder. “So what’s for supper, Ma?”

  Tony flicked a mosquito off his bare thigh, then looked up at Kelly. “How about you and I handling supper tonight? Your mom’s had a long week, and I think she needs to veg out for a while.”

  Kelly shrugged. “Sure.” Then she shot Tony a glance over her shoulder. “So what are we going to make? Spaghetti and meatballs?”

  “In your dreams, kiddo.” He shoved himself from the chair and pushed it out of the way, then leaned over and kissed Maggie’s eyes closed. “And keep ‘em shut,” he commanded. She felt him smile against her skin. “You’re going to need all your energy for later.”

  “Later” turned out to be much later. Scott came around eight with two movies he’d rented. But then he and Kelly got into an argument about applying the laws of physics to billiards. It ended with Scott and Tony challenging Kelly and Maggie to a game of eight ball. Only they made Maggie play left-handed. One game stretched to three; then the teenagers insisted that Maggie and Tony watch the movies with them.

  They made it through the first one, but Maggie started yawning twenty minutes into the second, which was amazing, considering that the movie was one of those awful, grisly things. After watching her trying to smother another yawn, Tony got up, then hauled her to her feet.

  Tucking his T-shirt into his cutoffs, he spoke to the two teenagers stretched out on the family-room floor. “We’re calling it quits, guys.” He didn’t get so much as a flicker of response, and he gave Maggie a nudge in the small of her back. “Do you get the feeling they don’t really give a damn?”

  She stifled another yawn, then shivered. “Do you really care?”

  He grinned and looped his arm around her neck, putting her in a playful headlock. “You’re mocking me, Maggie.”

  “You have to be conscious to mock, Parnelli.”

  He followed her up the steps to the back landing, then paused in the darkened entryway. Resting his hand on the latch of the screen door, he leaned over and gave her a quick kiss. “I’ll call you in the morning.”

  Maggie shivered again, but for different reasons. “I’ll walk you out.”

  Even though it was nearly midnight, it was still warm, the usual cool night air from the mountains held back by the heat. A soft breeze caught at the skirt of Maggie’s dress, and she turned her face into the breeze, inhaling the scent of flowers. God, she loved nights like this, when the air was laden with a mix of floral fragrances.

  They reached the side door of the garage, and Tony stopped. Turning to face her, he slid his hand under her hair and caressed the back of her neck. “This is as far as you’re going,” he said. Then he leaned down and brushed her lips with a soft, undemanding kiss. Maggie closed her eyes and opened her mouth beneath” his, not wanting him to leave, knowing she couldn’t ask him to stay. Tony held her head still as he deepened the kiss, his mouth moist and warm as he leisurely worked it back and forth against hers. Her lungs malfunctioned, and she grasped his arm to steady herself, a tingling weakness traveling from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. Sliding his fingers into her hair, he increased the pressure, and the kiss turned deep and carnal. The tingling weakness turned into a rush, and Maggie tightened her grip on his arm, her senses swimming out of focus.

  Releasing a shaky sigh, Tony eased away, then swore softly and gathered her up in a snug, comforting embrace. Rubbing his jaw along the top of her head, he locked his arms around her hips. “You could tempt a saint,” he whispered roughly. He held her like that for several moments, then he caught her under the chin, lifting her face for one last, soft kiss.

  Maggie slid her arms around his neck, and what started out as a final farewell suddenly escalated into something more. Tony abruptly widened his stance, pulling her up tighter against him, and Maggie clutched at him, hot, urgent desire pouring through her. Dragging up her skirt, Tony flattened his hand against her buttocks, pressing her hard against him; then he tore his mouth away, his breathing labored. “Maggiehoney,” he whispered raggedly.

  Feeling almost desperate, she tightened her arms around his neck. “Oh, Tony…”

  Abruptly shifting his hold, he reached behind her and shoved open the garage door. With his arm locked around her rib cage, he got her inside. Then he closed the door and backed her against it, their breathing harsh and labored in the dark. Shoving her skirt out of the way, Tony pressed her to him, and Maggie dropped her head back and clenched her jaw as she wrapped her legs around him. With one hand braced beside her head, he used his weight to hold her as he grasped the side seam of her panties, ripping them in two and pushing them out of the way. He fumbled with his fly, then with a repressed groan, thrust into her. A surge of raw pleasure seared through her, and she sobbed out his name as her whole body turned to liquid heat. He moved in her hard and fast, lifting her up and up, until the blackness finally exploded into a million shards of light, her release coming with a blinding force. He gave one final thrust and went rigid, and a tremor shuddered through him. Roughly turning his face into the cleavage between her breasts, he hauled in a jagged breath, his arms trembling.

  Her face wet with tears, she cradled his head with both arms, unbearable tenderness filling her to the very brim. God, but she loved him. Right down to her soul.

  Tony didn’t move for the longest time, then he exhaled with a shudder and shifted his hold. “I’m going to have to sit down,” he whispered unevenly. “Just don’t let go.”

  Maggie couldn’t have let go if her life depended on it, and she nodded and stroked the back of his head. Tightening his grip around her hips, he turned, using the metal-clad door as a back brace as he low
ered them both to the ground.

  The garage floor was concrete, and cold on Maggie’s legs as she tucked them back, straddling his hips. Still cradling his head against her breast, she pressed a soft kiss against his hair, the pitch blackness inside the garage making her even more acutely aware of him.

  Running his hands up her arms, he turned his head and kissed her just under her ear, then spoke, a faint trace of amusement in his voice. “For someone who was half-asleep, you sure went from zero to sixty pretty damned fast.”

  Smiling in the dark, Maggie bracketed his face with her hands, resting her forehead against his. “You just know how to rev my engines, Antonio.”

  He chuckled and gave her a quick hug. “I think you have a fuel-injected ignition there, cookie. And I also think I slipped my clutch.”

  Laughing, Maggie slid her arms around his neck and hugged him back. “You’re an opportunist, Parnelli. And don’t tell me you’re not.”

  She felt him smile, and he tightened his hold and gave her a firm hug, his hand warm against the back of her neck. He held her like that for several moments, then eased his hold and expelled his breath. “We’d better go, babe,” he whispered, his voice soft with regret. “With our luck, Scott’ll come out here looking for a bicycle pump or something.” Hooking his thumb under her chin, he angled her head, giving her a soft, sweet kiss; then he released another sigh. Grasping her by the waist, he supported her as she eased off him, swearing softly as she completely withdrew. The total darkness affected her sense of balance, and Tony held her arm until she steadied herself; then he got up, brushing against her.