One Last Objection_A Small-Town Romance

by Nancy Stopper

  Every night being near Maggie but not being able to make love with her, to not have that intimate connection, was torture. When she snuggled her ass against him, he’d get as hard as a rock. But they couldn’t make love until after the baby was born. That didn’t mean he didn’t want to… if anything, he wanted her more. The thought of her above him, her breasts lifting and falling as her rounded belly rode him, almost made him come right there.

  She brushed her fingers over his cock and he jumped. “Oh, God, Maggie. We can’t.”

  She rested her lips right beside his. “Just because we can’t doesn’t mean I shouldn’t make you feel good.” She applied more pressure to him, and he twitched.

  He grabbed her wrist and placed her hand back on her lap. As much as his body begged for her touch, he wouldn’t. “Nuh-uh. That wouldn’t be fair to you.”

  “What wouldn’t be fair? Don’t you think I enjoy making you feel good?” She threw him a saucy look and slipped her finger into her mouth, sucking the digit and then pulling it out with a pop. Damn. He licked his lips as his cock hardened to steel. He closed his eyes and imagined her wrapped around him, applying exquisite pleasure and moisture while he pumped into her mouth.

  Cold air swept over his groin. He hadn’t felt Maggie lower his zipper. But now that her hands were on him, he questioned why he’d bothered to stop her in the first place. The tip of his cock peeked out above the waist of his boxer briefs, begging for the release only she could give him.

  But she left him hanging as she ran her fingers under his shirt to his already-hardened nipples. Until Maggie, he’d never known how erotic the simple brush of a woman’s hands on his body could be. She grazed him again and he gasped and threw his head back. “Oh, God, Maggie, that feels so good.”

  She spread her fingers wide and ran her hands toward his shoulders, pulling his polo along with her. He was so far gone he could no longer resist—instead he helped her tug the shirt over his head. She tickled the hairs on his chest before wrapping her luscious lips around his nipple. She sucked his nub, the wet heat of her mouth teasing his sensitive flesh, before pulling back. “I love your chest.”

  He dug his fingers into her hips to keep from throwing her onto the couch and driving into her. This was all that they could have. He was a selfish bastard for taking his pleasure without her, but with her hands creeping down his body, every objection flew out of his mind. He couldn’t think, he could only feel as she slid her hand into his briefs and cupped his cock.

  He throbbed against her palm.

  When she slid her thumb under the crown and down the sensitive underside, he gritted his teeth and growled. “Too much.”

  She continued stroking him as she chuckled. “It’s not too much. Just sit back and relax. Let me make you feel good.”

  He forced his eyes open and his gaze landed on her, her cheeks flushed while she concentrated on what she was doing to his cock. She squeezed him and he could no longer form words. He flopped his head back and drew in a ragged breath as she squeezed again. Over and over, his cock growing impossibly large from the attention.

  All of a sudden, cold air blew over his groin. His eyes snapped open. She quirked a single eyebrow at him while she ran her palm down her outstretched tongue. He could only gape as she kept her gaze locked on his and lowered her hand back to him. The minute her hand wrapped around him, his groin tightened. He thrust into her hand, his hips coming off the couch as she pumped faster, twisting her hand with each stroke. Every muscle in his body tightened, his thighs clenching and his fingers digging into the cushion so hard that pain shot through his knuckles. He was so close. She moved faster and then leaned over and blew across the tip.

  “Oh shit,” he cried out as he spilled over onto her hand.

  She leaned sideways on the couch, her head propped on her arm and a satisfied expression on her face. “Better?”

  He slammed his mouth onto hers, spearing his tongue between her lips and sweeping around. Her fingers dug into his arms as she held him to her, her tongue tangling with his until they both broke the kiss, their heaving chests rising and falling in unison. “Damn, baby, that was…. that… I can’t even say.”

  “The great conversationalist Michael Bennett speechless? Say it isn’t so.” Her cocky attitude was so sexy.

  What he wouldn’t give to drive into her, to see the absolute bliss on her face before she came, to bury himself so deep that he wouldn’t know where he ended and she began. But he couldn’t. He probably shouldn’t have let her go this far.

  He grabbed a T-shirt and cleaned himself up, throwing it in the corner for the next load of wash. When he grabbed for his polo, Maggie snatched it out of his hands. “Nuh-uh. I like you like this.” She brought his shirt to her nose and drew in a deep breath. “Smells good, like musk and sweat and… you.”

  He chuckled. “You think sweat smells good?”

  “Only yours. It’s sexy and turns me on.”

  His eyes drifted to her breasts where her nipples poked through the thin fabric of her blouse. If he had his way, he’d wrap his lips around the rosy tips, sucking the soft flesh into his mouth until she cried out his name. Damn, just thinking about it had him growing hard again. He tucked himself away and zipped his jeans before he embarrassed himself. “I promise you, babe, as soon as you get the all clear, we’re getting a sitter for the little one and I will spend all night making up for lost time.”

  She stuck her bottom lip out in the cutest pout. “Promise?”

  “Every day… for the rest of my life.” If only she’d let him. She hadn’t said she loved him back, and despite the fact he’d told her not to, it hurt that the words hadn’t sprung to her lips.

  Each morning he stared at the ring he’d bought her. He’d turn it over in his hand, rubbing his finger over the shiny metal before putting it into his pocket. He’d carry it there each day until she was ready to slip it onto her finger. She hadn’t said anything about his proposal since the day he’d asked, and he didn’t want to push her into something she didn’t want because she felt vulnerable. That was no way to start their life together.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  MAGGIE MARKED ANOTHER date off her calendar. Finally, May. She smiled at the bright red circle around a date near the end of the month. Her due date. She couldn’t believe she’d made it through the past few months.

  The sun heated her face through the window, and she cursed once again that she couldn’t go outside. Other than doctor’s appointments, she hadn’t left the condo in weeks and weeks, and the walls were definitely closing in on her. Thankfully, Cheryl had made the trip from Philly a couple of times and spent the day with Maggie. Those visits had made the rest of the time sitting around doing nothing almost bearable.

  Michael stepped into the living room, tucking a polo shirt into khakis. Damn, that man could fill out a shirt, his broad chest stretching the light-blue fabric. His sinewy arms flexed as he finished dressing. If she had her way, she’d drag him back to the bedroom and show him exactly how much she’d missed being with him.

  A few stolen kisses and, well, a little bit more for him just wasn’t doing it anymore. Hadn’t he read in one of his books that pregnant women are horny? Well, she sure as heck was. But the doctor had said no sexual activity until she was off bedrest. As soon as she got the word, they’d be holed up in the apartment for a completely different reason. And maybe they wouldn’t come out until it was time for the baby to be born.

  “Are you sure you’re going to be okay? I can stay if you want me to.”

  As her bedrest had progressed, Michael had elevated hovering to a whole new level. If she wasn’t so tired by the end of each day, she’d have laid into him by now. Who knew sitting around doing nothing could be so exhausting? But she would push him out the door if she had to in order to get a few hours of peace away from him. All this together time had become too much. “No, it’s Lucas’s bachelor party. You have to be there.”

  “It’s hardly a bachelor party. Just
some of us getting together for poker.” He sank onto the couch beside her, the musky scent of his aftershave wrapping around her and triggering a wave of arousal that had her on edge. “I can stay.”

  “Go. Celebrate with your brother. Be happy for him. I’ll be fine.” And if he didn’t leave soon, he’d find himself in a whole new world of trouble as she was likely to throw him back on the couch and say to hell with the doctor’s warnings.

  He brushed his lips over hers for just a minute before pulling back. Her lips reached for his but he’d already stood. “All right. I won’t be late.”

  He tucked her cell phone and the television remote beside her. Yeah, thanks. That’s all I need, to be babied when what I really need is some romance. After a final kiss, he strode out the door, the telltale click of the door mocking her as he escaped… and she couldn’t.

  It had only been a few minutes before she heard a key in the lock. Was he coming back? Was he going to finish what he started when he kissed her and made her all hot and bothered? Of course they couldn’t make love, but she plastered a hopeful look on her face, which promptly fell when Brittany burst through the door.

  “What’s all this?” Maggie patted at her hair. She didn’t look good enough for company.

  “Your baby shower.” Brittany dragged several large bags through Maggie’s door. Sarah and Rachel followed right behind her, their hands full of platters and bags. The door started to swing closed when it was pushed open again and Mrs. Bennett strode in, a beautiful wooden cradle in her arms.

  She placed the cradle with pink and blue bumpers in front of the couch and then sat beside Maggie. “How are you doing, dear? I’m sure you’re about to go crazy being all cooped up in here every day.”

  Maggie looked to the kitchen, but Rachel and the other girls were busy unpacking and unloading and tittering among themselves, leaving Maggie alone with Michael’s mother. This was a bit awkward since Maggie knew so much about the Bennetts that other outsiders didn’t.

  Maggie wouldn’t be an outsider much longer—at least her daughter wouldn’t be. Evelyn would be the baby’s grandmother. Maggie ran her hands over her belly and sent her daughter a silent message. It won’t be much longer, little one. I can’t wait to meet you. This is your Gram and I know she’s excited to meet you too.

  Evelyn’s brows knitted and she bit her bottom lip. “Are you okay, Maggie?”

  Oh, yeah, Evelyn had asked a question. “I’m all right. Just a bit stir crazy, like you said. But I hope to get sprung from my prison before long.”

  Anticipation lit the woman’s eyes. “I’m so excited to meet my granddaughter. I love having Lily in our family, but I can’t wait to be there from the beginning. To hold a newborn baby again, it makes my arms ache.”

  “I’m sure you and Matthew will spoil her rotten.”

  “Well, that’s our number one job as grandparents. What about your parents?”

  Tears prickled Maggie’s eyes. At times like this, she felt like a little girl, begging for her parents’ attention. She had finally called her mother last month when she was confident that even if born early, her daughter would be healthy. Her mother’s only response was a curt congratulations. Judgement dripped from the sentiment, a thirty-five year old single woman with a successful career getting knocked up. Her mother’s condemnation was the reason Maggie hadn’t called before then. Her mother hadn’t even asked about Maggie’s due date, and here Michael’s mother was, bringing her gifts and throwing her a shower. “They’re not around much. My mother is somewhere overseas, and my father, well, I just don’t talk to him often.”

  “That’s such a shame, dear. Family is so important. But you’re a part of our family now, no matter what. You and your daughter. Always remember that.”

  The tears Maggie had been holding back trickled down her cheeks. What she’d asked for, dreamed of, her entire life, was now in front of her. But she was only part of this family because of the baby. She wasn’t really a member, like Sarah and Brittany would be.

  Well, you could be, if you just accepted Michael’s proposal.

  He hadn’t mentioned getting married in months, but that didn’t mean it was far from Maggie’s mind. On the contrary, as her due date grew closer, she thought about it even more. She and Michael had spent so much time together it was like they were married, just without the piece of paper. And the sex.

  “Oh, honey, I didn’t mean to make you cry. And now look at me. It doesn’t take much to make me cry either.”

  “Is Mom crying again?” Rachel carried a tray of vegetables from the kitchen and slid it onto the table in front of them. “I swear, all you have to do is snap your fingers and she tears up.”

  “Can you blame me for being so happy for all my kids right now?”

  Rachel waggled her finger at Evelyn. “What did I tell you, Mom? You weren’t allowed to come if you were going to cry.”

  Evelyn flicked her hand at Rachel. “Oh, go back in the kitchen and let me have my moment with Maggie, why don’t you?”

  Maggie laughed. These close relationships were completely foreign to her—foreign and entirely wonderful. But if her daughter was going to be part of the rapidly-growing Bennett family, Maggie had better get used to it.

  “Anyway, I wanted a few minutes alone with you before the girls came in.” Evelyn ran her hand almost reverently over the arched top of the cradle. “I brought this for you. I know you’ve probably got a bunch of ideas for your nursery, but you’ll need a cradle in here for when your daughter naps. My mother slept in this cradle, I slept in this cradle, and all of my kids slept in this cradle. I want your little one to carry on the tradition with another generation.”

  There were those pesky tears again. Those books weren’t kidding when they said pregnant women got more emotional. “Oh, Evelyn, but I’m not a member of your family. Not really.”

  “Yes, you are, honey. I don’t care if you and Michael are married or not. I see the love between the two of you. You and your daughter will always be part of our family. The only thing I ask is that the cradle stays in the family.”

  Knowing Michael’s siblings, the cradle would get a lot of use. But not by Maggie. How did anyone voluntarily have two, three, even four kids when the pregnancy was so miserable?

  Maggie had heard of women who glowed while they were pregnant, exercised until their last months, and wore fashionable maternity clothes. Not Maggie. She’d gotten so big that Michael could barely wrap his arms around her anymore. She could hardly waddle to the bathroom, and she’d long ago given up trying to see her feet. But each day, Michael kissed her and told her how beautiful she was. It was complete bull, but she let him continue to say it. To go through pregnancy over and over, she just didn’t get it. “Thank you, Evelyn. It’s beautiful. I’m sure she’ll love sleeping in it, and I’ll make sure you get it back.”

  “I’m hoping that, by the time your little one is too big for the cradle, that Lucas and Sarah will have a new baby to hand it down to.”

  Maggie chuckled. This woman was relentless. “Not even waiting until they get married to start in on more grandkids, huh?”

  “I’m not naïve. I know kids these days don’t wait for marriage to have sex. And Lily will be a great big sister.”

  “Is Evelyn talking about me and Lucas having kids… again?” Sarah chuckled as she carried a pitcher of iced tea into the living room and set it on the table.

  “Yes, can you blame me?”

  “I guess not.” Sarah sank into the armchair. “Lily wears me out some days. I don’t know how I did it for all those years after Alex died… before I met Lucas.”

  “He loves that little girl like she was his own. And he loves you.”

  Sarah got a wistful look in her eye. “I know. I can’t wait to get married. I mean, I know we’ve been living together for a year now, but it’s different once you’re married. It’s more… intimate.”

  There was that word again—intimate—and the reason Maggie had resisted Michael’s p
roposal. She was incapable of being truly intimate with someone, and in the end, Michael would just resent her inability to let him in. She’d been thinking about relationships constantly since he’d declared his love for her. He’d proposed out of necessity the first time, but his words had been heartfelt. He hadn’t mentioned marriage again. She thought she loved him, as much as she could love anyone, but would that be enough? Doubtful.

  Brittany clapped her hands. “Okay, chickies. Enough with the mushy stuff. We’ve got a party going on here. Sarah, can you grab this other platter? Evelyn, how about that pile of gifts on the table?”

  The rest of them hopped up and rushed around the apartment while Maggie sat on the couch like a lump. She’d worn an impression in the cushion from the hours she’d spent sitting here doing absolutely nothing. And now they were having a shower for her. It was all a bit too much. She was about to escape to the bathroom for a moment to collect herself when Rachel slid a fur-lined crown onto her head.

  “What’s this?”

  “You’re the guest of honor. The mom-to-be.” She motioned to the couch. “That’s your crown and this is your throne. We’re here to pamper you today.”

  Brittany pressed a glass into her hand. “Sparkling cider. The good stuff for the rest of us.” She proceeded to fill everyone’s glasses, and the girls and Evelyn surrounded Maggie. Michael’s sister and soon-to-be sisters-in-law. They interacted so comfortably, like they’d known each other forever. If she married Michael, would she have the same relationship with them? She didn’t have a lot of friends. Sure, she had Cheryl. But to watch these women interact, Maggie realized how much she was missing out on… and wanted in her life.

  “So, are you ready for all this?” Rachel asked as she popped an olive into her mouth. “I mean, we’re a pretty big, loud, and crazy family.”

  Maggie couldn’t hold back the smile that forced the corners of her mouth up. She should be wanting to escape, but she didn’t. For the first time, she enjoyed being in the company of these women who weren’t judging her for being an unmarried, thirty-five-year-old professional woman who’d gotten knocked up. She’d lived her entire life under the umbrella of judgment from her parents.