Her fingers found his hair, curling into the wet locks, desperate to touch him. She gave his head a little tug, silently asking him to stop, to bring his mouth to hers, to fill her with himself. She didn't want to speak, wasn't sure she could, and Riley's absolute silence was so unlike him, it made the magic of his tongue that much more intense.
Desire built, flooding through her as he slipped inside again, and brought his hand up to rub his thumb over her throbbing center. Her legs trembled, and she lifted her hips against his touch as pleasure burst inside her, carrying her over the edge, into the most exquisite orgasm she could imagine.
As she floated down from the height of passion, and the ringing in her ears subsided, she opened her eyes to look at him. He hovered over her, a soft smile dancing across his face, and slid himself inside.
Everything inside her rolled over to welcome him. He felt so perfect, so right, so absolutely good. She wound her legs around his waist, taking him deeper, wanting to feel every inch of him.
He stilled inside her, lowered his mouth to hers, and caught her into a slow, sensual kiss, arousing her with the simple act, content to draw it out unendingly. Her arms wrapped around his body, her fingernails trailing over his back, savoring every everlasting moment.
She squirmed beneath him, yearning for the satisfaction of their mutual release, longing to feel his surrender as he filled her with his seed. His pleasure deepened her own, and their joining meant nothing to her without it. Dear God, if he didn't do something, didn't move soon, she'd spoil it all and come without him.
Riley sensed her needs, and gave her what she wanted. He pulled his hips back, withdrawing almost completely, only to ease his way back inside, the stroke so slow, her back arched to fully seat him. He dusted his mouth to the side of her neck, then nipped at her shoulder, repeating the rocking motion of his hips. Slow, steady, unlike anything Riley ever gave her before.
Drawing back to brace his hands on both sides of her, he thrust again, rolling himself forward to brush against her clit, before he retreated and plunged once more. Maddie reached for him as her breath caught, but though she pulled at his shoulders, he refused to drop down against her. God, she needed ... She didn't know what she needed. She writhed beneath him as the pleasure rolled through her.
She opened her eyes to meet his searing gaze, the connection pushing her further into heedless bliss. He drove into her, the effort of his steady rhythm showing in his trembling biceps. As he bit down on his lip, he closed his eyes, and buried himself within her depths again.
Maddie's breath caught with a gasp as she splintered apart. Heat washed through her body with a delectable sensation, the power of her release filling her with awe. Distantly, she heard Riley do the same. He crashed down against her, sliding his arms behind her back and clutching her into his chest as he curled his body into hers and pumped himself into her.
She lay there for what seemed like hours, gathered as close as humanly possible to the man she loved, trembling with him. Nothing separated them. Not even a wisp of air broke the precious contact of their bodies.
Riley's arms relaxed, and he shifted to the side, rolling her with him as he withdrew. He held her in his arms, her cheek against his chest, his fingers tracing the length of her spine. She let out a soulful sigh and fluttered her eyes shut.
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CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Riley felt Maddie drift off to sleep and exhaled deeply. He'd never been more terrified in his life, and the quivering in his belly went on still, long after he'd found release in her arms. Not because she'd told him she loved him, but because no matter how he tried, he couldn't make his throat work to say the words.
He never had been able to.
Her confession, although a whisper, cracked like a rifle through the bedroom, and he felt the emotion barrel through him. He wanted to tell her. Wanted to fall on his knees and tell her how much she meant to him. But it was futile. I love you too, Maddie, got lodged in his chest and refused to work its way off his lips.
Like it had in the two long-term relationships he'd ruined with his inability to speak his feelings.
What had him terrified beyond reason, however, was how little those two involvements mattered compared to her. And he'd do anything to keep her here. He couldn't lose her. He'd done the only thing he knew to tell her. Made love to her, poured every bit of his soul into loving her tonight, praying she would hear the words. Put so much feeling into it he couldn't speak.
Yet, deep down, he knew it wouldn't be enough. No matter how much he needed it to fulfill her, he'd drive her away, convince her somehow he didn't feel what she did. And the idea of life without Maddie scared the shit out of him. He was hot and cold, perspiring and chilling, with pure, unadulterated fear.
He pulled his fingers through her hair and kissed the top of her head.
In this crazy whirlwind of events, he'd instilled Maddie in his life, made her a part of his world. She was here when he woke up, here when he went to bed, here when he just wanted to hold her. She'd become a part of him, and that contented his spirit more than he ever imagined it could. If she left him, if he spoiled this, he didn't know what he'd do. Nothing would ever be the same again.
God damn it, he had to overcome this fear. Practice in the shower, perhaps. Maybe she'd overhear, and once it was out in the open he could say it more easily. Whatever it took to hold on to her. He would not lose Maddie.
He slanted his gaze to her. She slept like the dead after sex. She'd never hear his feeble attempt. He swallowed thickly, opened his mouth to try, and froze.
With a heavy sigh, he tightened his arm around her and whispered, “I'm crazy about you too, darlin'."
Tomorrow morning, their horses left for New York. Tomorrow night, their separate flight departed. The pre-Belmont week brought commitments they were both obligated to—a cocktail party on Monday, a golf tournament on Tuesday, their post-position draw on Wednesday, a black-tie charity ball on Thursday. Friday left them relatively open, aside from all the things required for pre-race prep. Somewhere in between all of that, he would find the courage. He had to.
If he couldn't, he had no choice but to tarnish things by sitting her down and trying to explain the goddamn words just didn't function for him. It didn't hold the same effect, wouldn't satisfy her ultimately. But it might buy him the time he needed to find his balls and choke out the three words no one else in this world seemed to have issue with.
* * * *
He didn't remember falling asleep, but when Maddie bolted upright, he woke up with a startled jump. The damn dream. Still the same as it was before the Preakness, warning her about Infidelity, it had been giving her fits all week. Last night, it woke her up twice.
Pushing up their pillows, he scooted into a sitting position, and folded her into his arms, leaning back against the headboard. At her request, he'd ridden Infidelity when Archie took a day off, and he couldn't find a single reason for her to worry about her horse. Still, the dream haunted her, and he'd come to accept he could do little but hold her when she woke up shaking.
"Same thing?” he asked quietly.
She nodded, holding onto him as if she were afraid to let go.
"Okay, angel, there's something in your subconscious. Think about everything you know about your horse."
"I have. Over and over. I've even wondered what would happen if I scratched him. If it might stop then."
"Don't be silly. There's no reason to scratch him. He's sound, he's fit, he's healthy. You'd be foolish to scratch him."
"He can't beat Spoil."
Riley let out a low laugh. Now that was an interesting confession. “When did you come to that conclusion?"
She snuggled deeper into his embrace. “Oh, when I discovered how much fun losing a bet to you can be. I've been trying to think of what sort of wager I could come up with to make the Belmont worth it."
He chuckled again. “You're priceless, darlin'. How about if Spoil wins you move yo
urself into this house. If Infidelity wins, I take you to Tahiti.” He threw it out there casually but held his breath waiting.
"What happens in Tahiti?” she asked in a quiet voice.
Riley's heartbeat accelerated a little at the images that tumbled in his head. “I spoil you shamelessly."
Like a cat rising from an afternoon nap, she uncurled herself and pulled away to look at him. “Riley Jennings, did you just ask me to move in with you?” she asked in a whisper.
He held her gaze but merely lifted his eyebrows. He wasn't about to say it again. It took monumental effort to spit it out the first time.
The corner of her mouth tugged with a smirk, and she settled herself back down against him, resting her cheek against his chest. “Guess you better pray Infidelity doesn't kick your horse's ass."
They both knew he wouldn't.
After a few minutes of quiet, she asked, “What happens if neither of the boys wins?"
Riley's laughter rumbled in his chest and he shook his head, amused. “We go to Tahiti anyway?"
"Mmm. Guess it has to wait till winter with the racing schedule."
Riley glanced down at the top of her head. “Christmas?” he ventured in a low murmur.
She ran her foot up and down his leg. “Only if you plan on making it a tradition.” Her voice came just as softly, hesitant in its quality.
With a deep breath, he tightened his arms a little and whispered, “I'll make the arrangements in the morning."
There it was, out in the open. His only way of conveying he planned permanent with her. With a little luck she'd hear his underlying sentiment. Understand how much he needed her.
Her fingers danced across his chest, tracing some lazy pattern against his skin. She pressed a little kiss over his drumming heart, and murmured, “I love you too, Riley."
He swallowed back an icy chill and choked out, “Do you feel better about your dream, now?"
With a contented sigh she replied, “Always."
Keep saying it, Maddie. One of these days I'll get there too, he coached.
* * * *
Maddie vowed then and there she wouldn't tell Riley how she felt again. His obvious avoidance of the subject struck home and wrenched her gut. Christmas or no Christmas, she refused to bring it up until he did. The last thing she wanted to do was push him away by saying too much, too soon.
Yet, the whole thing couldn't possibly confuse her more. What man skipped the emotional confession and leapt straight into moving in together and planning Christmas traditions? Was he really that committed to keeping the door open for escape? She couldn't think of any other reason, and at the same time, it didn't make sense.
Which just convinced her further that Riley wasn't ready to hear her feelings. Question was, could she accept that? She didn't think so. As confident as she was about his desire for her, his willingness to incorporate her into his life and be incorporated into hers, she needed reassurance she wasn't delving down a dead-end path.
She wanted the whole package. Love, family, children. Not a long-term, open-ended relationship. While she couldn't change how she felt about him, they'd have to discuss his plans at some point. Not tonight. Not even this coming week and likely not the next. But, it couldn't linger between them. If it did, they'd create an unmovable wedge.
She'd bide her time, wait until she couldn't any longer, and then broach the subject with tact. Explain that if he wanted her to stay, he needed to at least acknowledge he knew how she felt, and that it didn't make him uncomfortable. If he couldn't discuss it then, or if he confessed he didn't want the same things she did, it would kill her to do so, but she'd have to say goodbye. She was too old to waste time chasing dreams that would never come true.
Sinking down against him, she listened to his heart. It pumped an unsteady rhythm, faster than his usual relaxed beat, yet far slower than when he was aroused.
Curious, she tipped her face up to read his expression.
His eyes held hers, and Maddie's stomach bottomed out beneath the intensity in those dark depths. A myriad of emotion slammed into her—pain, hunger, love, anger, tenderness—they all blended together into a tidal wave that washed over her and left her speechless. Where did they come from? What was going through his mind? Had she, somehow, pissed him off?
She quizzed him with a tiny frown.
He shook his head, brought his hand up into her hair, and urged her head back down to his chest.
Neither said another word.
* * * *
Maddie woke up still in Riley's sheltering embrace. A rare occurrence given he usually woke with the first light of dawn. Her neck protested, having slept the night in a half-sitting, half-leaning position, and she rolled it on her shoulders trying to unclench the kink. Pushing up and away from him, she slipped out of bed and pulled on her robe.
Riley stirred, his hand reaching out for hers.
With a smile, she caught it, gave it a gentle squeeze, then let go. Patting her thigh, she called to Buster, and left the bedroom to let the dog outside. He padded along behind her, his nails clicking against the wood floor as they descended the stairs. In the kitchen, she stopped to give him a doggy bone, then opened the patio doors. He raced out, tail wagging, bounding through the grass.
As she leaned against the glass door to watch him, her eyes pulled to Ghost's paddock again. In the early morning mist, he looked like a majestic specter, beckoning her to follow him into an unknown destiny. Giving in to a tiny sigh, she pushed away from the door and went to the coffee pot, poured two cups, and took a seat on a high-backed stool where she perused yesterday's paper.
All the headlines screamed about Mister Spoilsport, the redundant question—would he win the Triple Crown?
She wanted him to. With both the Derby and the Preakness under his belt, the sportsman in her wanted the horse to succeed. At this point, if Infidelity unseated him, it would be nothing less than heartbreaking. Besides, Riley deserved the win. He had the better horse.
The problem with the Belmont was that it ran an additional quarter mile. Most of the horses that won the previous two legs didn't have the stamina or experience to hold on through the extra length. Where Infidelity did tend to show strength in longer races, she didn't know where Mister Spoilsport excelled. Brimstone obviously faded at the Preakness, although she'd heard Dirk Bettans had indeed entered him to run. Rival Scout, however, had gained until the last. Set the right pace at the start, and Rival Scout held the ability to give Spoil a real run for his money.
She opened the paper, searching for the odds. Spoil lead with odds of three to four. He was the favored contender. Infidelity received his due with odds of two to three. Brimstone fell one to five, and Rival Scout managed to equal Infidelity's. That bristled the hair along her arms. She hadn't considered Infidelity might not get second. Had just assumed he would.
Riley padded into the room and came up behind her to kiss the back of her neck.
"Mmm.” She turned partly around to greet him more appropriately. “Good morning, handsome."
"Morning,” he murmured against her lips, catching them once more before he moved to the stove.
He picked up his coffee, took a long drink, and pulled out a skillet.
She loved to watch him cook. There was something about a man in sweatpants and a t-shirt, skillet in hand, that was damn sexy. It started her day with a slice of perfection.
"What's for breakfast?"
"Pancakes,” he replied with a yawn. “Then we're taking Spoil over to get Infidelity. Archie said he'd take care of the boys for us tonight."
When had he talked to Archie, and where had she been? She puckered her brow. He really had to stop excluding her from things. Particularly when those things involved her trainer and her horse.
"Was I out when Archie called?"
"No, angel, I phoned him yesterday morning while you were asleep.” He pulled the pancake mix down from the cabinet above the stove. “As much trouble as you've had getting a full night's res
t this week, I thought you might enjoy the freedom to check into our hotel room and relax, instead of rushing over and checking on the horses.” Setting a mixing bowl on the counter, he tossed the ingredients in and stirred.
Well, damn. When he put it that way, she couldn't be mad. Still, it warranted a polite request. “Honey?"
"Hm?” he asked as he licked a dollop of batter off his finger.
"That's very sweet of you.” She stopped, too amused by the splatter on his nose to make an issue out of nothing.
He flashed her a grin. “But?"
"Would you try to include me on plans that involve my horses?"
He didn't answer. Instead, he poured the batter into the skillet, went to the fridge for the chocolate chips, and scattered a handful over the top of his creation. Then, he turned around, leaned back against the countertop and replied over the top of his coffee cup, “I'm still getting used to things, angel."
God love him, he knew how to melt her heart.
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CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
As Maddie wandered into their spacious bedroom in the Garden City Hotel, Riley watched her glance around in awe. While he preferred the space a suite allowed, had he been alone, he'd have booked one of the smaller, executive suites. But, wanting to indulge and spoil her, he chose one of the larger grand suites that offered a bit more luxury with a flare of European influence. And why not? He had the money. It was no fun to have money if he couldn't spend it. He'd had to pull a few strings and owed Dirk Bettans a favor now, but so far, she seemed surprised.
She walked around inspecting everything. From the pillows strewn across the couch, to the plush king-sized bed, and even the contemporary art prints, she didn't miss a thing. She looked absolutely fascinated.
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