Maggie pressed her hands against Oliver’s shoulders, nudging him backwards a bit. “Molly, we’re leaving!” she assured her. Taking Oliver’s hand, Maggie tugged him towards the door where Molly stood, frozen and obviously uncomfortable, trying to keep her eyes down on the floor. “Our laundry is in the washing machines. The others are all free. You go ahead and…do your laundry. We’ll just…”
Oliver was tugging her now, his fingers clasping her hand as he led her out of the laundry room. “All yours,” he told Molly a moment before he pulled Maggie out into the sunshine.
Once outside, Maggie stared up at Oliver. Unfortunately, she couldn’t stop the laughter as it burst out of her. She tried to cover her mouth with her hand, but Oliver was growling, tugging her down the sidewalk towards her apartment.
“This isn’t funny,” he warned. “I’m in pain and you’re laughing at me.”
Maggie followed, almost running to keep up with him. “I’m not laughing at you, Oliver,” she promised him. “I’m laughing at the situation. I mean, of all of the places for a romantic interlude, the laundry room would have been the last option on my list.”
“Oh yeah?” he asked, turning around and sliding his fingers into the pockets of her jeans, causing Maggie to gasp in surprise. “What would be the top option?” He unlocked the door to her apartment, pushed it open and tugged her inside.
“My top choice would be…!”
Oliver didn’t give her a chance to answer him. He covered her mouth with his and kissed her again, pressing her back against the wall as his hands returned to her stomach, but this time, he didn’t hesitate. His hands slid higher, cupping her breasts while his thumb ravaged her taut nipple.
All thoughts of romantic scenes disappeared as lust overwhelmed her. She lifted up onto her toes, needing to wrap her legs around him, needing to feel that pressure against her core again. Instead, she felt his hands leave her breasts and she whimpered, her fingers tugging at his shirt. She wanted it off. She wanted all of his clothes gone!
But then she felt his hands sliding against her bottom, his bare palms cupping her naked bottom. She didn’t have the brain capacity to figure that out, but she groaned when he lifted her into his arms. Amazingly, her jeans and panties were gone. Another time, she might wonder about how that had happened, but right now, she needed that pressure back. Pressing her hips against his, she wiggled until she could feel that erection, then sighed with happiness when she found it.
“You’re killing me, Maggie!” he growled, pulling his shirt off and dumping it onto the floor.
Were they moving? She couldn’t tell because he was nibbling on her neck. Yes, they must be moving because every step he took shifted that lovely, wonderful, impressive erection against her core.
“We need to slow down, Maggie!” he growled, but a moment later, her tee-shirt almost ripped when he pulled it over her head. A fraction of a second later, his mouth latched onto her nipple and Maggie almost screamed!
“Don’t slow…down!” she gasped out, her hands moving over his back, wishing he’d get his damn pants off! “You’re not naked!”
He laughed softly, but stood up and pushed his jeans and boxer briefs down, then stood up, gloriously naked and Maggie’s mouth fell open as she stared at him. He started to move towards her, but then he stopped.
“What’s wrong?”
He shook his head as he bent to grab his jeans once more. “Nothing. Stay there!” he ordered as he pulled a condom out of his pocket.
“Just one?”
He laughed as he tore open the foil, rolling the condom down over his erection. “I have more,” he promised her.
Maggie bit her lip, wanting to reach out to touch him. She must have done that because the next thing she knew, he took her hands in his and pressed her back against the mattress. “Now where were we?” he asked, his knees pressing her legs wider as his hips moved between hers.
Maggie wanted to laugh, but that firm part of him was nudging at her opening. She wanted so badly to take him in her hands and…and do something! But she couldn’t seem to slow down!
“I can’t…!” Oliver groaned, but he didn’t finish that sentence. Instead, he thrust into her, hissing as her inner muscles clamped around his shaft. “Damn, Maggie!” His eyes closed as his head went back, but then he looked down at her, his eyes meeting hers as he waited for her body to adjust to his size. “Tell me you’re okay!” he almost roared. “Tell me I didn’t just hurt you!”
Maggie might have laughed, but her brain couldn’t send that message to her facial muscles. Every part of her mind and body focused on the delicious feeling of him being a part of her. “You…didn’t!” she gasped out, wiggling her hips in a desperate effort to get him to move. “But I’m going to hurt you if you don’t…!” He moved! Oh dear heaven! The sensation of his body thrusting into hers once again was better than chocolate! It was better than ice cream!
“Oliv…” She couldn’t even finish speaking his name because he thrust again. And again!
Before she could slow anything down, Maggie felt the first tremors of a climax, her eyes wide as she gripped Oliver’s shoulders, unaware of her nails digging into his skin.
“I’ve got you,” he told her. Those words were the reassurance that she hadn’t known that she needed. With a strangled sound, she arched her back as a climax convulsed over her body and Maggie might have screamed, she might have been silent. She wasn’t sure. It was all just so…amazing! And even that word didn’t do this experience justice.
A moment later, Oliver thrust into her again and again, then froze for another moment before he shook with his own release. For several seconds, he froze over her, then he collapsed down on top of Maggie. A split second later, he groaned and shifted, pulling her with him as they exchanged positions, still intimately connected.
“Damn, Maggie!” he groaned as both of them tried to get their breathing back under control.
Maggie tried to shift. She tried to just pull away from him. But it was too hard and, in the end, she simply lay against him, limp and completely zoned out.
Chapter 10
The knocking was really annoying! Oliver rolled over, fully intending to ignore whoever was rude enough to pound on the door at…he cracked his eyes far enough open to look at the time…eight o’clock in the morning. No one who arrived before nine o’clock was significant enough to worry about. More importantly, anyone who arrived unannounced should be shot. Or at least stopped by his doorman.
Rolling over, he pulled the pillow close, intending to go back to sleep. But when he pulled the pillow close, he realized that the pillow wasn’t who he really wanted to pull close.
He looked around. “Where the hell are you?” he asked of the empty room. Unfortunately, a reply wasn’t forthcoming. Maggie was gone!
That woke him up a bit more. The banging was becoming more impatient. There was shouting now, on top of the pounding. Rubbing a hand over his face, he sighed and dropped his feet to the floor. A cursory look around revealed his jeans, in a heap, right where he’d left them. Right next to Maggie’s purple panties, he noticed with a smile.
The banging was really starting to piss him off. He was reminded of how much he loved the security in his penthouse. No one got through to his front door. Not without his permission, he thought with a grumble as he pulled his jeans on. He didn’t bother snapping the top though, fully intending to get rid of whoever was pounding, then drag Maggie back to bed and make love to her all over again.
With that in mind, he came out of the bedroom and looked around. The sofa still looked sad, but there was an interesting zebra striped print fabric hanging over the back. Even from across the room, he could tell that the fabric was thick. Upholstery fabric? He certainly hoped that Maggie wasn’t going to cover that tacky green sofa with the zebra stripped stuff. That would be pretty hideous.
Another bang, followed by, “Maggie! I know that you’re in there! You can’t avoid me forever!” Then more banging.
/> Oliver found Maggie in the kitchen, wearing only the tee shirt he’d discarded last night. It came down to the middle of her thighs and she was still barefoot, dancing with a spatula in one hand as she listened to music with her ear buds. Every few moments, she let out a squeak, as if she were singing along. But she was completely oblivious to the knocking.
With a chuckle, he walked over to the door to her apartment and pulled it open, fully intending to disperse whoever was rudely banging at such an early hour.
But before Oliver could say a word, the idiot stormed into the apartment. “Who are you?” the guy demanded.
Oliver looked him over, noting his expensive suit and four hundred dollar haircut. The guy was slick, Oliver thought. But still a pansy. A bully. Several inches shorter than Oliver and without any muscle tone to fill out the suit, the guy clearly thought he was someone to be reckoned with.
Before Oliver could tell the ass to go away, the man lifted his hand in the air, palm out, stopping the words. “Forget it. I don’t care. Where’s Maggie? My business is with her. So you need to leave.”
Oliver’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline, stunned at being dismissed so completely. It had never happened before, so it took a moment for him to fully grasp the stupidity of this man’s tone and meaning.
“Excuse me?” Oliver stated as calmly as possible.
The man didn’t even bother to repeat his order. He started towards Maggie, who was still in the kitchen, dancing and singing. Well, sort of singing. And still entirely unaware of the scuffle behind her.
Oliver wasn’t having it. He might be wearing only a pair of jeans, but he didn’t care. Maggie, on the other hand, was only in his tee shirt.
Stepping in the man’s path, he glared him down.
The other man’s eyes narrowed, as if he were trying to intimidate Oliver somehow. “Buddy, you don’t know who you’re dealing with!” the shorter man said, dropping his voice as if that would make his presence more threatening.
Oliver snorted. “Sure. Quite the tough guy, aren’t you? But you’re going to have to wait until Maggie is dressed.” And with that, Oliver took the guy by the back of his shirt and, because he was pissed off, shoved him out of the apartment.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” the guy bellowed.
“When you can behave like a gentleman, then you may speak to Maggie.” Oliver leaned down, one hand on the door as he got in the sputtering jerk’s face. “That’s only if she wants to speak with you.”
With that, he slammed the door and turned to look for Maggie, who was…still dancing. Oblivious to the minor altercation happening in her living room. Or what would be a living room, he thought as he looked at all of the boxes piled up around the edge of the plywood floors. Damn, the woman didn’t even have carpeting? What the hell?
Oliver tapped on Maggie’s shoulder, startling her into yelping as she spun around. “Oh!” she laughed, putting her free hand to her chest as she leaned back against the counter. “Sorry. I was…making breakfast.” She blushed and glanced over her shoulder at the simmering pancakes. “I don’t even know if you like breakfast. Or if you work out in the mornings. Or if you even like pancakes. I just…well, I guess I meant to–”
“You have company,” Oliver said, interrupting her and pulling her closer so that their hips pressed together.
Maggie pulled the second ear bud out, peering around at the empty room. “I do? Where?”
“Yeah.” His hands slid underneath her tee shirt. “He was being rude, so I kicked him out. Plus,” he leaned in to tease her neck, “I don’t like strangers seeing you like this.” He slid his hands underneath the satin of her panties so that he could cup her bare bottom, squeezing to emphasize his point.
The banging started up again and Oliver glared daggers at the door. Looking down at her, he pulled his hands away as he suggested, “Why don’t you go get dressed and I’ll explain to that idiot that he needs to remember how to act like a gentleman.”
Maggie tilted her head. “Who’s out there?”
He shrugged. “Some ass who wants to talk to you.” He patted her bottom again. “Go get dressed, Maggie. I need to have a few words with the guy.”
Maggie smiled, feeling oddly protected. She hadn’t had anyone look out for her since her grandmother’s funeral. And boy, what a miserable day that had been!
Walking into her bedroom, she quickly pulled on a pair of jeans and, reluctantly giving up the wonderful scent of Oliver’s tee-shirt, she snapped a bra on, then one of her own tee-shirts.
Oliver stepped out of the apartment, pulling the door firmly closed behind him and, when the shorter man attempted to push past him again, Oliver rudely shoved him back, making him stumble.
“That’s assault!” the man spat, his hands still out in the air as if he needed assistance balancing himself. “I’ll have you arrested!”
Oliver crossed his arms over his still-bare chest and frowned down his nose at the man. “Assault?” he scoffed. “Prove it!”
The guy snickered as he straightened up, jerking his jacket back into place. “You really don’t know who I am,” he said in a softer tone. Oliver suspected that the guy thought that the tone was more threatening, but in reality, he sounded foolish. Oliver knew that he could take him down with a single punch.
But because this guy needed to speak with Maggie, he refrained from breaking his nose.
“You’re going to lower your voice and be more respectful,” Oliver explained, his own voice becoming more gravelly and that was threatening. “When you speak with Maggie, you will treat her with respect and dignity. And you will conduct your business with Maggie in a calmer tone of voice, without disturbing the other residents in this building.”
Oliver had no idea if this guy was Maggie’s boss or someone else important to her. If the putz was Maggie’s boss, then Oliver would protect her. Hell, he could give her a job at any one of his properties at a higher salary. If the shorter man wasn’t her boss, Oliver still wasn’t threatened. He’d protect Maggie no matter who the jerk was, or what he threatened.
The shorter man’s features smoothed out, becoming more assessing. “So, you’re the boy toy?” the putz asked, looking smug. It took all of Oliver’s control to not wipe that revolting smirk clean off his face.
“I’m Oliver,” he replied, extending his hand politely.
The guy took Oliver’s hand, tightening his grip more than necessary. Oh, he wanted to play that game? Oliver jerked him closer and squeezed. The putz blinked in surprise and finally started to understand he was in danger.
But the shorter man rallied quickly, puffing up his chest like all bullies tried to do. “I’m Jerry Trevino,” the guy sneered, glaring up at Oliver. “And you’re going to regret what you’ve done this morning. I’ll make sure that you’re fired from whatever pathetic job you have and that you’re kicked out of the cave you came from.”
Oliver chuckled. “Think you’re that powerful?” he asked.
Jerry jerked his hand away, stepped back, then nodded, adjusting his jacket again. “Yeah. I am.”
Oliver shrugged dismissively. “Okay, Jerry Trevino. I consider myself adequately warned.”
“I’ll start by having your ass arrested,” the putz threatened.
“For what?” Oliver asked, once again crossing his arms, his feet braced wide as he shrugged casually.
“For assault, you idiot! You pushed me!”
Oliver laughed, shaking his head. “Prove it.”
The guy looked around, and found Louise and Nora standing on the sidewalk, watching the altercation with wide, curious eyes. Obviously the elderly ladies had been roused by the noise because they were still in their nightclothes, slippers and robes covering their old-fashioned nightgowns. “I have witnesses.”
Louise shook her head. “Honey, all I saw was you making a ruckus outside of Maggie’s apartment. I didn’t see anyone push anything.”
Nora nodded in emphatic agreement. “I definitely didn’
t see Oliver push some weak, pathetic excuse for a maggot away from Maggie’s door.” She turned to Louise. “Should we call the police and report this guy for disturbing the peace?”
Jerry’s jaw went slack. But he pulled himself together. “Right. If that’s how you want to play this. Fine.” He shook himself and tried again. “I need to speak with Maggie. She and I have business to discuss. So, get the hell out of my way.”
The door to Maggie’s apartment opened. Maggie stepped around Oliver and frowned. “What’s going…?” she stopped when she spotted the putz. “Jerry?”
Oliver’s gaze swung from the putz to Maggie, stunned at the change in her tone. “You know him?”
“She’s my damn fiancée!” Jerry snapped. “Now get the hell out of my way before I have you arrested!”
Oliver stepped back, too shocked to retort. Then his anger built as he watched that short, annoying man walk over and kiss Maggie. Well, he went for her lips, but Maggie turned away at the last moment so he just caught her cheek. But he managed to wrap his arms around her before she could move out of reach.
He could barely think straight as he watched the man, that insufferably smug expression back on his doughboy face.
“Maggie, do you want me to get rid of this…person?” Oliver asked, praying she’d give the right answer. He needed her to say that she wanted “Jerry” gone, out of her life, and off of this property.
Instead, he watched as she rallied, straightened her shoulders and…shook her head. “No. Thank you, but I’ll be fine. I’ll speak to him.”
Oliver worried he might crack a tooth, clenching his teeth in frustration. After last night…hell, after the past several weeks…Maggie was seriously going to push him away in favor of this putz?
Granted, the putz was her fiancé! What the hell was going on here?! Less than an hour ago, she’d been in his arms!
Whispered Secrets (Rose Garden Apartments Book 2) Page 7