by Mya Barrett
“I…we’re…” She wet her lips, struggling to find an argument while his declarations played like angel songs in her ears. “Your mother…”
“Isn’t standing here. I care about her, and Lord knows I’ve done everything I could to make her life easier after the way my father treated her. But she has never dictated how I feel, and she never will.” He stepped forward and swallowed the gap between them, cupping her shoulders in his palms. “The only things between us right now are ghosts. My father, your parents…and Chris Brannon.”
“Chris?” His name surprised her and she shook her head to stop the swirling of her thoughts.
“I know you loved your husband…still love him. I accept that. You wouldn’t be the woman you are if you didn’t. I’m glad you had someone who cared for you, who made your life a little easier for a time.” He squeezed her shoulders tighter as he dared her with his eyes to look away. “But he’s dead, Maggie. He’s gone. You’re still here, alive, beautiful, young. Mourning him for the rest of your life, refusing to let yourself move on, it’s not healthy.”
“Wait, you think I’m pining for Chris?” She couldn’t help the note of disbelief that bled into her words. “You think I’m using him as an excuse to hide?”
“You told me you love him, you keep his shirts in your closet, for Pete’s sake.”
“I told you I used them for warmth.”
“That might be part of it, but can you honestly say you don’t wear them to feel closer to him?”
She took a long, steadying breath before she replied. “I’ll admit that just after Chris died I wore them for comfort. I needed it. He was my best friend and my biggest supporter. Momma was sick and I knew I couldn’t ask anyone else to help me care for her. But the day after I buried her I stopped wearing them, at least for that reason. Until the first day you came to see me. I felt like I needed…I don’t know, like I needed some sort of armor.”
His brows slanted down as he watched her. “You felt like you needed protection from me?”
She nodded and he gave a soft curse. “He loved me, Hale. He stood up for me, he helped me, he cheered me on, and he never, ever judged me. I loved him for that.”
There was a long pause as he watched her; then he pulled her to him, cradling her gently in his arms, his heartbeat loud and quick underneath her ear. “Maggie…oh Maggie. If you’d let me…if you’d just let me….”
It was a plea, one that echoed deep down in her being. She had set out to keep him at arm’s length, to convince him that they were an impossibility. There was too much to overcome; not just their families’ past, but their own needs. She wanted forever, but she’d never believe he could see her in his future even though she’d shared the truth about his father, since exposing Royce would be at best a fruitless endeavor. The present was all they would have. She couldn’t trust him with the truth of her heart, not when he could use it against her. It would too easy for him to maneuver her into the spot of mistress if he knew how deep her feelings ran. Or worse, if he was unintentionally careless with her love. Yet he’d run to her, flinging all rational thought aside. In that moment she hadn’t been a secret, and he hadn’t cared who’d known.
All those valid arguments she’d used to keep her distance now felt like so much smoke. They wanted each other. If it was a day, or a week, or a year before he left, at least she would have their private moments to carry with her. She wouldn’t fool herself into thinking he was in love with her; the heady flush of desire would eventually fade and they would be left with the same problems as before. But she could be careful, she could play the situation as it unfolded, letting Hale take the lead. If she were honest, she knew she didn’t have much choice in the matter, not when her mind, soul, and body were in accord in their upheaval.
“I’ll let you.”
He became utterly still after she whispered the words. His hands, which were splayed across her back, began to shake with fine tremors. She felt him turn his head and nuzzle his way to the delicate shell of her ear.
His voice was whiskey rough when he spoke. “Say it again, Maggie. I don’t think I’ll believe it unless you do.”
She turned her own head, her nose brushing his cheek, her jaw just touching his. “Yes, Hale. Yes.”
Chapter Fifteen
His reaction was instantaneous. He pulled her up, studied her face with intense eyes, then lowered his mouth to hers. She had been expecting a savage kiss; instead, he savored her lips, caressing them, almost as if he were cherishing each brush of their lips. He completely undid her.
He was gentle as he touched her, stroking over her old robe, skimming down her arms, linking his fingers with hers. Every nerve in her body tingled with banked excitement, filling her with vibrant electricity that jumped from muscle to bone. Where she might have rushed, he forced her to slow, nipping at her bottom lip, trailing down her jaw, laving the rapid pulse point on her neck. Shivers shook her but he held her steady even as she heard his ragged breathing.
“Us, Maggie.” He looked up, speared her with a hot, predatory look. “It’s just you and me, sweetheart. No ghosts. No pasts. Just us.”
She might have answered if she’d been able to form a coherent thought. She nodded, drawing out a long groan from his chest. The next instant she was in his arms again, her lips being gently assaulted while he pulled her closer. She could feel every piece of his body, every corded muscle, every hard bone, every part of his heated flesh. She wrapped her arms around his neck, sank her fingers into his thick hair, stretched herself out against him, and marveled at the feeling.
Then the world was tilting, her feet floating in midair. It took her a moment to realize he was carrying her while he seduced her with his kisses. The slight creak of the third step was a vague sound that drowned in the maelstrom of her pounding blood. Everything outside of her body was mere haze, a smoke and mirror trick of elusion. This man was her only reality; the feelings he evoked the only truth she could ever need.
“Which door, Maggie?” His gruff whisper sent another volley of electric spikes through her system.
“Second…second on the right.” She sounded like smoky wind and couldn’t bring herself to care.
He nodded and hurried to the doorway, only to hesitate. “Are you sure?”
The uncertainty in his eyes only endeared him to her more. He’d wanted no more ghosts, but they were standing just a few feet from the bed she’d shared with her husband. Hale, the man she wanted, the man who had been afraid that Chris was standing between them, was still unsure. She stroked his stubbled cheek.
“You and me, Hale. I’m sure.”
He let out a long, heavy sigh before he strode to the bed and carefully laid her down. His heavy weight came down on her, a weight she gratefully accepted. He kissed her again and again, his tongue darting in and out of her mouth, drawing the fire up from her belly and out to her quivering limbs. She gave back to him what he gave to her, pulling him down into the boiling eddies that cascaded, unseen, over her body.
She didn’t protest when he untied her belt. She felt the whimpers begin to form in her throat and couldn’t fight the sound when it escaped. He parted the soft material with slow reverence, not releasing her lips until he had her completely exposed.
She felt a moment of embarrassment when he sat back to study her. Automatically she reached for the edges of the robe, but he shackled her wrists with his calloused fingers to stay her movements.
“You are the most beautiful…Maggie, you’re so…”
Maggie felt herself blush at his breathless praise. “I…thank you?”
He chuckled at her words. “I think maybe I should be thanking you.”
He stretched his fingers out and ran a long, easy line from her collarbone, between her breasts, all the way to her bellybutton. Her body, already dancing with desire, became inflamed as he feathered soft touches along her thighs, finally lifting to the very heart of her need. She gasped and dug her fingers into his shoulders.
“Pe
rfect.” His shaky words were an echoed whisper as he lowered his mouth to her breast.
She bowed in a hard, unforgiving line, ravaged by the sensation of his lips, tongue, and fingers. He absorbed her movements, coaxing her reactions and tightening the coil inside of her with each stroke of his hand, each nip of his teeth.
He moved away from one breast, gave his attention to the other, cradled her close as she felt a sob nearly erupt from her throat. Maggie had wanted him for so long that her body readily responded to each and every sensation he created. She wanted to feel him, to have his naked flesh underneath her hands, to taste his skin and feel him pressed against her with no barriers between them.
She didn’t realize she was pulling at his shirt until she felt him shrugging out of it. She let go of a shaky sigh as she spiraled her fingertips along his chest, over his wide shoulders, down his broad back. He kissed her again, this time pressing his bare chest against hers. The heat and the wonder were so piercing in intensity that she gasped with it.
“I wanted to go slow, but I’m not sure if I can.”
His confession was a sudden aphrodisiac that swirled the desire raging through her body. Truth be told, she wanted him, had always wanted him, and tonight her fantasy was coming true. And, by some miracle, he felt the same raw emotions she was, understood the same aching need that had clawed at her for too many years.
She tore at his jeans, determined now to have exactly what she wanted. He made no protest as he helped her shimmy the material off his legs and onto the floor. She gave his shoulder a sharp love bite before pushing at him, and was delighted when he complied by flipping their positions.
She straddled his thighs, leaving him open to her perusal. Unlike her, he didn’t appear at all shy. She reached out to touch his chest, pausing at the last moment as she stared down at him. He lifted a questioning eyebrow but waited with what seemed like infinite patience. It felt like she'd spent a lifetime wanting him, denying herself, knowing they could never be together. And yet here they were, her body shimmering with need, his body hard underneath hers. He was hers in this moment, and she was free to touch, to stroke, to taste.
Smiling, she leaned down and kissed his chest. There was a quick indrawn breath before he fisted his hands in the sheets. Wicked power whipped through her body, so strong she laughed with it.
“You like that?” Her voice was heavy and rich with desire.
“Y…yes,” was his strangled response.
She kissed his chest again, slow, easy open-mouth touches while her tongue made little laps at his skin. Surprising heat rose inside of her, adding layers to the need he had already stoked. She continued her exploration, running her palms over his flesh while she made her way down his torso, filling every sense she could with him. Sight, sound, taste, scent, overflowed with him.
She traced a circle around his navel with her tongue, nipped at his solid abs, nuzzled the hot skin. She could feel him, hard and thick, against her flesh, pulsing with the same frenzied beat as her heart. Reacting instinctively, she kissed his stomach, gently arching against his arousal, pressing him against the soft mounds of her breasts. She was only allowed a moment to enjoy the love play. He grabbed her upper arms and pulled, securing her along his body so that they were face to face.
“If you go any further, sweetheart, I’m not going to be able to control myself.”
She gave him a slow, seductive smile. “Who said I wanted you to?”
His growl set off tiny explosions along her veins as she was flipped again. She landed underneath his body, and he scooted her even more securely, aligning their limbs in perfect unison. She felt him pressing against her soft flesh, so very close to joining them, and yet still too far away. The teasing touch had her wiggling in frustrated need.
“Maggie.” Her name was a soft, gentle whisper against her ear.
“Hale.” She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and snuggled against his neck.
He grazed her throat with his lips, pressed forward to not quite join them, then pulled away. Her denial was a hard noise bouncing against the walls. He teased her again and again, until she was raking her nails along his back, panting and groaning for more.
“Maggie…Maggie, look at me.” His ragged breath tickled her eyelashes as she complied. “Now.”
Then he was there, pushing into her, filling her body with exquisite pleasure. Hale’s face was a study of awe and absolute bliss as he sheathed himself. He stopped for a moment and they lay together, immersed in the feeling of being completely coupled. She shook with waves of pleasure, holding onto him as the world fell away. She felt so right, so whole, and she wanted nothing more than to stay just as they were, forever.
He moved and her mind splintered. Moving away, coming close, taking her with him with every stroke of his body. His motions were smooth, almost effortless, as he set a gentle pace. She responded with a natural sixth sense, moving with the slightest provocation, melting and blending into him so that she didn’t know which thrust was hers, which touch was his. When he captured her mouth she complied, sealing herself even more to him.
His rhythm increased, still steady, but more insistent. Everything was a bright wave of desire, a rising tide that carried her in swirls and eddies until she was freely drowning in them. She could feel it, the tight knot of need cinching so tautly she thought she might forget to breathe.
“Maggie…my Maggie…let go, baby. Let go.”
His voice was all the prodding she needed. Explosions started at her core, sending sizzling tendrils of piercing pleasure snapping through her veins. There was a distant scream of satisfaction as her bones evaporated in the heat of completion. She clung to Hale, solid and sure, as the explosions became fingers of warm flames. As she floated on the cascading heat she felt him convulse, heard his growl of gratification, knew he was plummeting off the same precipice from where she’d just plunged.
She wasn’t sure how long they lay entwined, his body a welcome weight on top of her. Somehow, she managed to catch her breath again, though she was light headed by the time she managed to find her equilibrium. He finally stirred to prop himself on his elbows before he laid a tender kiss on her lips. The smile that spread across his face was enough to make her heart begin to pound again.
He spoke softly as he studied her face. “That was…wonderful."
She stroked his cheek, drifting on the wisps of euphoria. “It feels like a dream.”
He shook his head. “Feels too good to be a dream.”
He started to move away, but she held onto him, afraid to lose his warmth, suddenly desperate to keep his arms around her. He gave a quiet chuckle and took her with him as he rolled to his back.
“I’m not letting you go now, you need to know that.”
There was quicksilver fear of how hard it would be to lose him, but it was tempered by the fact that this was reality. He was a possessive man; he’d stay for as long as his need was hot.
“I knew that when I told you yes,” she finally replied.
“It’s terrifying.” He dropped a peck on the top of her head, snuggling her against his chest. “At least it is for me.”
She swallowed, surprised by his admission; she knew the least she could do was to be as honest. “No, it’s not just you.”
There was a long pause before he took her chin in his hand and lifted her face to his. “We’ll be scared together. I’m sticking, Maggie. I’m not going anywhere.”
She rolled her lips together, kept her uncertainty to herself. She wasn’t ready to ruin this moment. “Then I hope you don’t snore. I don’t have any earplugs.”
He might have swung the conversation back to the serious side, but he seemed to understand she needed to cool the intensity. “No snoring, but I do kick sometimes.”
“Um, I’ll have to see about getting shin guards.”
“Brat.” He smacked her naked bottom, then began to knead it with his rough palmed hands. “Maybe if I’m exhausted I’ll be too tired to move.”
“I might have a few.” He gave her a cat-that-ate-the-canary grin and began to kiss her.
Chapter Sixteen
The sun tickled her eyes awake the next morning, warming her face as it seeped through the window and into her bedroom. She was smiling before she was fully conscious, though she didn’t know why her mood was so light. Absently, she stretched, confused momentarily by the liquid feel of her bones and the slight soreness of her muscles. It wasn’t until she felt the sheet scraping against her bare breasts that clarity struck.
She had slept with Hale Warrick. No, not slept, she admitted as her eyes shot open and she stared unseeing at the ceiling. They had been much too active for sleeping to be involved. She blushed recalling the way she’d touched him, the way he’d touched her, the way she’d responded like an attention starved animal to his lovemaking. There had been no barriers between them, not psychologically, not physically; he had made sure of that.
His demands had become her wishes, his desires had become her needs; he had brought her satisfaction and she had given it back to him. There hadn’t been a piece of her skin he hadn’t stroked, and in the bright reality of morning she knew there hadn’t been an inch of flesh she hadn’t explored on his body, either. She felt the swelling of her lips, the raw spots on her neck where he’d kissed, the tenderness of her breasts, her thighs, and the places in between. She pulled the sheet up, looked underneath at her naked body, and quickly dropped the covering back down. No, it hadn’t been a dream.
She felt strangely shy as she stretched her hand out, fully expecting to feel a warm, solid body beside her. It took a moment for the cool sheets to register, for the implication of the empty spot to settle in. She turned her head and found an indention in the pillow, the only indication that she hadn’t been alone in her bed. Her brows knit in bewilderment before her mind came up with a plausible explanation. He was downstairs making breakfast. After their aborted dinner the night before he was probably starving.