Keep Me Wanting

by Angela Addams

And probably on the dock, now, too. “I tried to correct her, but she thinks that I’m destined to ruin this weekend for my mom and grandma with my selfish ways.” I sigh. “I totally get it if you don’t want to come to the spa. This shit from her is likely to continue.”

  “Seriously?” He slips his arm around my waist. “Hell no, I’m not leaving you to that. I love spas.”

  I look up at him with surprise. “You do?”

  He grins down at me. “Never been to one in my life, but there’s no way I’m leaving you to the firing squad because of something that didn’t even happen.”

  I blink up at him, that pang in my chest spreading. Has anyone ever looked out for me the way Liam has this weekend?

  I push up onto my toes and kiss him. I can’t help it.

  He allows the kiss to go on for several excruciatingly long seconds—plenty of time for me to reconsider my promise to go to the spa. Maybe we should just go up to our room…

  “We better go before Amelia explodes,” he says when he pulls away. “Although I am half tempted to detour to the woods for a little sex just to fuck with her.”

  I laugh. “I doubt that’d go over well.” Even if it sounds like the best idea I’ve ever heard.

  We start back toward the resort. Liam is seriously the perfect boyfriend, and now that I know what it feels like to have someone watching my back, I don’t really want to let him go.

  Which is a problem, because he’s not mine to keep.

  Chapter Ten

  Liam

  The spa treatment has us rotating through a facial, manicure, pedicure, and massage. None of these are things I’ve ever experienced before. I’m enjoying it, not so much because of the poking and prodding but because Maggie is so happy. Her eyes are bright, her smile is unguarded, and even though I see her shooting wary glances Amelia’s way, she’s clearly enjoying herself, too. Amelia is quiet, her face covered in a black latex mask that looks like it’s glued to her face. It’s possible she can’t actually move her mouth to speak because of it. A nice break for everyone.

  My nails are trimmed and polished, and Maggie’s are in the process of being painted a sexy purple.

  Uncle Bernard is there, telling stories of his travels as the technician treats his wild facial hair to some kind of oil regimen while another works on his feet. Maggie’s mom and grandma are there, feet being done and heads together in a quiet whisper. Charlotte is getting some kind of acupuncture treatment on her hands. The other men are off somewhere, golfing or drinking beer or whatever. I’m content where I am; my feet are currently soaking in a bubbling, heated tub that actually feels really damn good. I could get used to spa life.

  “We should play a game,” Maggie’s grandma announces.

  “Oh, games! I love games!” Uncle Bernard says, his hands waving around excitedly.

  “I thought we were taking a break from activities for an hour,” Charlotte says.

  Her grandma shoots her a look. “Well, after the last event, I think everyone needs some livening up.”

  Amelia squawks from her chair but can’t seem to say more than that.

  “Oh darling,” the woman sighs. “I know you two meant well with that session of yours, but it really wasn’t the most thrilling of workshops. I mean, people were falling asleep.”

  Maggie snorts then raises her hand to cover her smile.

  “Honestly, you two were smart to have boycotted,” her grandma says quietly in our direction. “They were trying to show us the various kind of knots we might need if we ever decided to sail on our own. Uncle Sammy was actually snoring when I decided it was time to hijack the girls and salvage the rest of the morning.”

  I laugh. Amelia scowls our way, and Charlotte rolls her eyes. “Well, it wasn’t my idea anyway. I told Amelia that we should have actually tried to rent some boats so we could do some hands-on stuff.”

  “Yes, dear, it was a nice thought,” Maggie’s mother says. “You two are so very knowledgeable. And Maggie, it would have been more supportive if you’d come.”

  Now it’s Maggie’s turn to roll her eyes.

  “What’s the game?” I ask Maggie’s grandma in an attempt to divert any further criticism.

  “We’re going to play a trivia game, so partner up.” She looks around the room until her eyes settle on Charlotte. “Be a dear, keep score and run the questions. Make sure you pick hard ones.”

  Charlotte’s face drops, and she glances around the room, quickly calculating that she’s the only one without an obvious partner since Maggie’s mom claimed Amelia, who has just gotten her face mask peeled off. “I guess I’m the odd girl out.”

  I see Maggie smirk slightly, knowing instantly that she’d be the odd girl out if I wasn’t there, a role she seems to have played many times by the sound of things.

  I wink. “Maggie, we’ve got this.”

  She looks at me, her cheeks rosy, and smiles in a way that makes my heart do a weird thud. She winks back, and my heart does it again. What is that? I reach up and rub my chest, wondering if I’m getting warning signs of an impending heart attack or if my heart is just that into Maggie that it’s working over time. Not good. Gotta lock the emotional shit down before things get way out of control and I say something I really regret.

  “Everyone ready?” Charlotte flips through the cards her grandma gave her and settles on the first question. “All right, let’s start with a scholarly one.” She purses her lips. “What do Pride, Sense, and an Abbey have in common?”

  She sweeps the room, with a huge grin, her expression all ego. “You bunch aren’t big readers. Regretting it now?”

  “Words associated with Jane Austen titles?” I say.

  Everyone looks at me.

  Charlotte’s mouth drops open.

  I shrug. “That was an easy one.” I’ve had a lot of time to read over the last four years, and the prison library had a decent stock of the classics. Not that any of them need to know that’s where my literary knowledge comes from.

  “Yes!” Maggie cheers. “That’s a hundred points for us!”

  “You’re right, too easy.” Charlotte glances to the next card, her smile going wide as she looks at Amelia. “What is the legal term for a voluntary written statement made under oath?”

  Maggie groans. “Char—”

  I smile. “Affidavit,” I say. “Another hundred for us.”

  “Hey, that was a question for me!” Amelia grouses.

  “Oh, Maggie, you’ve snagged yourself a smart one, you know?” Uncle Bernard says. “Smart and handsome!”

  Grandma smiles over at me.

  Charlotte waves her hand like she’s dismissing us. “Those were simple ones. Let’s get to the hard stuff.”

  “Don’t mind her,” Maggie says. “She’s trying to split the score so no one beats her and Doug’s record.”

  “We’re a power team.” Charlotte nods. “There’s no way you two are going to beat our record.”

  I look at Maggie, and she looks at me, both of us smiling. “That sounds like a challenge if you ask me,” I say.

  Maggie nods before turning to face Charlotte. “Come on, Char, hit us with your best one.”

  …

  The game went our way, naturally. If there’s one thing you’ve got a lot of in prison, it’s time. Stick a bunch of men in medium lock up and you’ve got a powder keg of competitiveness. Trivia was a way to one up the next man. We bartered with information, especially in the days leading up to Friday when the guards ran trivia nights with a little side action.

  We were betting on necessities and perks, of course—cigarettes, sugar, chocolate bars, more time with loved ones on visitor days. The guards had their own pool, the odds on whichever prisoner seemed to be on a winning streak. A lot of money moved around that place. A lot of favors. I became very good at brokering deals there, too.

  So
Maggie and I cleaned house, and Charlotte’s record is officially obliterated. Makes me feel good to leave something with Maggie that she can lord over her sister. Even after the weekend is over, she’ll be able to brag for a while. At least, until the next trivia game that pits her against her sister. Maybe by then she’ll find another guy to be her partner so she can keep the title—

  That thought has my heart pounding again and not in a good way.

  Oh hell no. Maggie with another guy should not bother me, and the fact that it does is surprising because there’s no way I’m expecting more from her, right?

  There’s no way I can give her more. Not with my family.

  And who am I kidding? She won’t need me beyond this weekend anyway. And she wouldn’t want me, even if she did. Especially once she figures out who I am.

  I opt out of the green goop face mask but enjoy the back massage a lot. It gives me time to think, explore the weird possessive feelings I’m having, and get a grip on myself. I realize that I’m having a great time with the Chandlers. They’re a mostly functional family—unlike my own—and it’s nice to just have some fun.

  The room I’m in is quiet, with a subtle scent of orange and vanilla. I’ve got a hot towel on my face, and I’m feeling relaxed and happy.

  The only thing that would make this whole calming room better is if Maggie was with me.

  The door opens. I feel the slight breeze of outside air. I start to lift my hand, ready to remove the towel.

  “It’s me.” Maggie’s voice is almost too quiet to hear. “Don’t take off the towel.” There’s a click, like the door is being locked, and then her scent wafts toward me.

  It’s like I conjured her.

  “Everything okay?”

  She doesn’t answer with words. She answers with her hands. She’s rubbing me over the thin sheet that covers my body. Her fingers move up and down, tracing my chest, circling my nipples, teasing along my abs with just a wisp of a touch. My cock is already growing hard, tenting the sheet, no doubt. I start to lift the towel again, but she stops me with a sharp hiss.

  “Leave that towel alone.” She slips her hand under the sheet and slowly, tauntingly, massages my thighs.

  My cock is so hard it’s pulsing, and her hands are so close they’re almost touching me, but she pulls away again, going down my legs rather than up.

  I moan my complaint.

  “I’ve always wanted to do something like this.” She laughs.

  “What?” I whip the towel off my eyes and try to sit up. She chooses that moment to cup my balls, palming them until I lie back down.

  “I want to make you come so hard you see stars.” She reaches to the belt of her robe and unlatches it, letting it fall to pool at her feet. She’s completely naked, her heavy breasts swaying as she moves her hands back down my thighs.

  I pat my chest. “Why don’t you climb up here and let me lick you?”

  “Nuh uh, big boy, this time it’s all about you. Besides, it’s my fantasy. I get to say how it goes.” She pulls the sheet free and moves her hand to my dick, finally, clasping me tightly as she rubs up and down my shaft.

  I arch my back, moaning as she squeezes and rubs. My dick is so hard and I’m still wound up pretty tight that even a hand job can bring me to orgasm quickly. But I suppress it with all my power because I want what her mouth has to give. I want to come down her throat.

  As if reading my mind, a blush rises to her cheeks, and she leans over my cock, her hot breath tickling along my sensitive flesh. She opens her mouth and runs her tongue down, over her hand and to my balls. Her lips are gentle and soft, sucking me in so she can flick and tease with her tongue, coating me in saliva and blowing on my sac so I feel the heat and chill all at the same time.

  I’m watching her eyes. They’re closed right now, but her whole expression is serene like she’s totally immersed in this blowjob, like my dick is the center of her universe in this moment. It’s so fucking hot that my cock pulses.

  I grunt, and she opens her eyes and looks at me.

  “I want to come in your mouth.”

  Maggie lets my balls slip from her mouth and grins. “Good. Because I want your cum in my belly.”

  I groan again. So fucking hot.

  She takes my dick into her mouth, first the tip, circling it with her lips, flicking her tongue along the ridge of my crown, rubbing over my slit to take the pre-cum that’s there. Her eyes are still locked on mine, and it’s the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. She wants this, my dick, my pleasure, my cum.

  She glides her mouth down, rotating so she can continue to watch me watching her. My dick is too big for her, but she tries anyway, wedging me as far as she can take me, to the gate of her throat and a bit beyond. I feel as her jaw unlocks, as my dick slides deeper. Her eyes are watering, but she doesn’t stop.

  I reach my hand out and capture her nipple, tweaking the hard little bud and loving how it makes her squirm. She moans against my dick, the vibration shoots right through me, and I jolt, my back arches, and my cock slides farther into her throat. She pulls out a bit, giving me enough room so that I can pump into her. Her hands are working the lower part of my shaft as well as moving over my balls to massage and knead, while she slides her mouth up and down, sucking back her saliva, drawing me deeper and deeper with each stroke. The sensation of a thousand nerve endings igniting travels down my dick, over my balls, and straight to my core.

  We’re both moaning as I explode, hard, into her mouth, hot jets of cum spewing to the back of her throat. And she takes it all, swallows every last drop I give, and I give a lot, like I’ve never come before.

  Fuck, this woman…she’s too good to be true. Everything about her cranks me up and wrings me out. How am I ever going to let her go?

  That’s the sex talking, I know. My brain is misfiring all over the place, but still, I don’t want to let her go.

  She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. “Never done that before.” She bends down to pick up her robe.

  “I was your first deep throat?”

  She’s nodding, her cheeks flushed with color. “Never really liked blowjobs much before.”

  I angle up on my elbows. “Why’s that?”

  She shrugs as she ties her robe up, hiding her gorgeous breasts. “I guess I just never had a partner who excited me. I like hearing you moan.”

  She says it so sweetly, so innocently. It makes my dick jolt and my heart clench.

  “Well, it definitely got the job done. Best blowjob of my life.” And I’ve had a few, to say the least. Makes a difference, I guess, when someone is totally into you like Maggie seems to be. She has no inhibitions with sex and me, and that makes me really wonder why in the hell she’s single. Is it really because she has no time to date or is it something else? As far as I can tell, she’s a fucking catch, and any guy would be lucky to have her…er…will be lucky to have her. She’s not mine. Not after this weekend.

  There’s that damn pang in my chest again.

  “Oh, there’s going to be more where that came from. I liked it too much not to do it again.” She touches her lips and smiles. “I better go before the technician comes back.”

  If there are going to be any repeats, it’s going to be me pleasuring her. I can’t keep taking what she’s giving and acting like a selfish fuck. This weekend is about pleasuring her, making her happy, and keeping her safe. I will not compromise her again.

  “Come here, first.”

  She moves closer, and I pull her in so she’s half lying on top of me, her weight pressing down deliciously over my chest. I like her there. Her smell is intoxicating, sweet, salty, so enticing. “You’re the sexist woman I’ve ever known.” I kiss her before she can react, my mouth over hers, tongue on tongue.

  This woman, fuck me, she’s a keeper.

  And yet I won’t get to. Maggie is too good to be
true, and I’m just a no-good ex-con with too much baggage for someone like her to carry.

  Enjoy it while it lasts.

  Chapter Eleven

  Liam

  I’ve just slipped my pants on when the door to the massage room opens. I turn, expecting to see Maggie, hoping she’s decided to let me have my fun, but instead I come eye to eye with Detective Chandler.

  I take a step back, not at all liking being in a confined space with a cop.

  “I’m hearing things,” he says as he rubs his hand over his jaw and closes the door, intensifying the feeling of being trapped. “About your brothers.”

  I force my legs to lock so I don’t retreat farther. My fists are clenched, and I’m doing everything in my power not to strike and run.

  “I don’t like what I’m hearing.”

  Fuck.

  I narrow my eyes but keep my mouth shut.

  Detective Chandler lifts both of his hands and takes a step back as if realizing that he’s essentially caged a wild animal. “I just wanted to ask you if you have anything to come clean about.” He nods once. “Before it’s too late.”

  I don’t respond. I don’t flinch. I don’t give any indication that my brain is going a million miles an hour, and I’m wondering just what the fuck my brothers have done now.

  Detective Chandler lets out an explosion of a sigh and lowers his hand. “Maggie is having a good time. She seems to like you a lot. She’s acting different…more confident, carefree, and I know it’s because of you. I won’t begrudge her that for the weekend. But”—he raises his finger and stabs the air—“make no mistake that it’s only for this weekend. Once we’re done, I’m going to be all over your ass, and your family’s, no matter what you happens between you and her here. Got it?”

  I nod once. He’s glaring, wanting something more from me, so I turn my back, pick up my shirt, and then start to put it on. I wait to hear the click of the door closing before I punch the hell out of the mattress on the massage table.

  When I exit the massage room ten minutes later, Maggie is in some kind of heated debate with Amelia. Both women are whispering furiously, obviously trying not to raise their voices despite how angry they both look. Amelia’s hand shoots up and points in my direction.