Chapter 28
Maggie
The event at Leduc wasn’t the same without Hadley. Brady and Spencer were good to keep me company, but the two days felt long and empty. Laying in my bunk in Betsy, I had to take care of a need I’ve not had to deal with in a while simply from inhaling my pillows where his scent still lingers.
By the time I turn onto the road leading to the ranch, the sun is almost set and I’m desperate to have a certain cowboy wrapped around me. This week we are doing the roundup to bring the cows and calves home. Well, closer to the homestead, at least.
And I’m excited to help.
With nighttime to work on my photos and get the article in each week, I decided I can fit in a little ranch work to help out. Besides, after all this man has done for me, I want him to have the help he needs.
I will do my best.
Kayley is taking Wednesday off to ride with us. So it should all go to plan. Let’s hope. I haven’t ridden before, but how hard can it be?
Maybe I could take a test run first?
When I drive past the homestead, Nia is sitting on the front porch.
I wave and beep the horn on Betsy and she jumps up, waving.
Gemma flies out the front door and tackles her sister.
Now they’re arguing over something. I chuckle and return my eyes to the driveway that leads to Hadley’s house.
The sun splinters through the trees surrounding his home, enveloping it in a golden hue.
Even Mother Nature is coaxing me back.
I shake my head at my ridiculous conspiratorial thoughts.
Pulling up in front of the house, I find Hadley leaning against one of the porch posts, arms folded, smile stretching his handsome face, and no crutch in sight . . .
I skid Betsy to a halt and am out the door as fast as my legs can carry me. The weight that’s been holding my chest down all weekend lifts at the sight of him hobbling down the stairs, dark eyes homed in on me.
My feet leave the ground a beat later, and I wrap myself around the only man in my entire life who’s managed to turn me into a sappy, desperate mess for him.
He groans into my hair, and I know it’s been a long few days for him, too. I lean back and start dusting kisses over his face, first his forehead, down his nose, over his cheeks, and last along his jawline.
The deep rumbling chuckle that rattles through him steals my breath.
“I missed you too, Sunshine. God, so fucking much.”
He releases me, and my feet meet the ground. His hands cup my face, his mouth claiming mine. When his tongue thrusts inside, I don’t think we can wait for later.
Breathless, I manage, “Shower, Hads. It’s been a long drive.”
He growls, nipping my neck. “Yes, ma’am.”
I’m swept up in his arms before the next heartbeat, and we’re tracking toward the front door. He kicks it open, and a hearty laugh bursts from my throat, my head falling back.
“Just for that, I’m taking this torturously slow.” His eyes narrow as he holds my gaze, padding down the hallway.
“Your knee feels better?” My hands ghost over his jaw.
“Yeah, almost good as new.”
“I thought it was supposed to take a few weeks?”
“Nah, must be Superman.” The shit-eating grin stretching his gorgeous face sends my heart flinging against the bones of its too-small cage.
“Promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”
His grasp on me tightens. “Define stupid, baby.”
“Hadley,” I warn.
“I’m on light duties. Mom and Kayley saw to it.”
“What about the roundup?”
“Sitting on a horse is no trouble. I’ll be there. God, can you imagine? Kayley would have you hightailin’ it out of here in an hour without supervision.”
“Hey! I like Kayley, she’s a straight shooter.”
He grunts a half laugh. “One way to put it.”
Rounding the bathroom door, he sets me down on the vanity. Not bothering to close the door, he steps into the large shower area and flicks on both showerheads.
“Oh, I get two this time?”
“We.”
He tugs his T-shirt from his back, leaving him in his old, ripped jeans that hug his thighs.
His hard stomach, ending in that V pointing south, tenses as his biceps do, then the shirt hits the tiles.
He crowds me on the vanity, moving in between my legs.
I pull him in closer, drawing his mouth down to mine.
When he breaks away, I reach for him, but he’s kicking off his jeans. The boxers left behind are tented. He leaves them on as he gestures for me to hold up my arms.
Instead, I lift my top myself. Slowly. Like, real slow.
“Oh, I see how it is. Independent woman of mine.”
I laugh and toss the shirt at him.
It hits his face, and he holds the shirt tight, breathing deep. A low rumble, muted by the fabric, escapes him. Lifting his head, he drops the shirt with his clothes. “Oh yeah, baby, you smell. Definitely time to get you wet.”
Hands sliding behind me on the vanity, he hauls me off the hard surface and, with a brief kiss, takes the fly of my jeans in his hands and flicks it open. He’s not even looking.
Hooking his thumbs into the waistband at my hips, he pushes my pants down. I step out, and he steps back.
I stand in my red lacy underwear, heart frantic in my chest as his gaze runs the length of my body, darkening further with every inch it moves over me. My skin heats as if he’s physically touching me and I rasp, “Shower.”
“Don’t rush me, baby, I’m taking stock of what perfection looks like.”
Usually, I’d roll my eyes at a statement like that, but with the intensity, the desperation in his eyes, I anchor my gaze to his. Burning alive, I reach for him.
He grabs my wrist, holding it between us. “Torture, remember, Sunshine.”
Oh, I’m so fucked.
The steam curls around us as the space warms up to a heat hotter than under the midday sun, and it has nothing to do with the scorching water blasting from the showerhead.
He loses the boxers and his cock juts up at me.
My mouth turns dry as if it’s the first time I’ve seen him like this.
Opening the shower door, he takes my hand and leads me inside. The heated tile under my feet is bliss after being in boots for hours. My skin could peel off and I’d enjoy it. I’m in heaven, and he hasn’t even touched me yet.
He leans around, adjusting the temperature on the shower before lifting the head from the bracket and handing it to me. “Okay, Little Miss Independent, show me how you make yourself come thinking about me in that little van of yours while you’re away.”
How the?
My grip around the showerhead tightens with the memory of last night. Me, my bed. Hadley all over my pillows, my sheets . . . How fast I brought myself to climax thinking about this cowboy devouring me. Fucking me.
“Come on, baby. I’ve had to take a walk at least seven times in the three days you’ve been gone. Don’t you tell me I’m the only one this far gone.”
The shallow breaths my lungs barely allow in burn.
His hand wraps around mine as he lowers the showerhead.
I swallow, eyes burning into his as the warm water hits my clit.
My face twists instantly, and his softens. “That’s it.”
His hand disappears, and he takes a step back so he’s between the two water streams. He’s really going to make me do this.
It’s when his fist wraps around his cock as he watches me that I want to see him just as tortured. I move the spray over my clit. Heat pools low in my belly, my thighs slick with need as I shift a hand to my breast, rolling the nipple between the pads of two fingers.
The water wets his hair as he takes a step backward into the spray. His dark hair mats over his temples, and his jaw flexes as his gaze descends to the hand still wandering over my nipple.
“Fuck, Sunshine. Independent looks good on you.” He pumps his fist over his cock, growling. “Show me how you make yourself come thinking about me.”
I narrow my eyes playfully at him. “How do you know it’s you I’m thinking of, Hads?”
He chuckles. His hand reaches for me, sliding into my hair at the back of my head, tugging me closer as he rasps, “Because you came home.”
The showerhead drops from my hands, clattering to the tile before swinging back toward the wall on the cord.
Hadley’s rough grip tugs my head back, and his mouth closes over mine.
Hunting for more, his tongue thrusts into my mouth.
My legs shake. I slide one hand behind his neck, the other gripping his biceps.
Warm fingers circle my clit.
So much for independence.
Impatient man.
Fingers dragging down his chest and stomach, I take his cock into my hand. He growls into my mouth. I tighten my grip.
“Fuck, Maggie. Fuck.”
His forehead hits mine. Before he can send me any higher with his fingers dancing around my clit, I drop to my knees. My mouth has been watering for this man for days. Now, bare, wet, and right in front of me . . . torture is not having him in my mouth. Sunk deep inside me.
But first things first.
I close my lips around his tip, sweeping my tongue over a small bead of salty offering. His hand slaps to the tiled wall. “Easy, baby,” he warns.
Intent on taking it so, so slowly that he loses control, I take him in an inch.
The faces he pulled last time I took him inch by inch have burned themselves into my memory in the best possible way.
Every shallow stroke I take sees him shift.
Stroke . . . a hand fists in my hair.
Stroke . . . he rumbles something incoherent.
Stroke . . . his eyes snap shut as his grip finds my jaw.
Stroke . . . the man above me starts to tremble. Those muscle-bound legs shake as his breathing falters.
I send a hand down to my aching center and sweep a fingertip over it lightly to ease the burn. Instead, it stokes my own fire, and I moan.
Hadley’s grip in my hair turns punishing.
I take his velvety tip in my mouth, swirling my tongue, taking the pre-cum that leaks out continuously. Every sweep of my tongue takes me higher. With one hand, I search for the showerhead. I find it and turn it over until the spray finds my throbbing center.
I whimper as I cascade toward an agonizing orgasm.
Hands find my face.
Hadley thrusts into my mouth, jaw flexing as he growls around a moan. “Fuck, I don’t want to come down your throat, Sunshine. But unless we quit, that’s exactly what’s going to happen.”
I hold his gaze and he steadies his erratic thrusts long enough for me to shake my head.
Not even a beat passes before his cock disappears and I’m lifted from the floor. He shuts off the taps and hauls me onto his hips. Padding to the bedroom, he devours my mouth, neck, and—
I’m airborne.
The gut-sinking feeling of falling pulls a yelp from me as my back hits the big, soft bed. I land toward the top, Hadley still standing at the foot. I huff out a laugh. Wasn’t expecting that.
Somewhat recovered, I rest back on the pillows and spread my legs.
“Crawl, cowboy,” I rasp.
“Yes, ma’am.” His words are gravel.
My heart knocks around its confinement as he drops to the bed on his hands and knees and crawls toward me, those dark browns locked on mine every step of the way.
I’m dripping all over the covers. My center aches like it will never not be a bundle of nerves on fire ever again.
“Fuck, Maggie.” His gaze dips to my pussy. “A man’s never starved so bad.”
But he doesn’t quicken his pace, still making his way across the bed slowly.
“Ha—”
Dark eyes burn as they coast along my body. “Torture, remember.”
His face is as strung out as mine feels. At this point, who’s torturing who? He makes it to my knees and, with a rough grip, spreads me wider.
My breathing all but stutters out.
“Look at you. So fucking beautiful. Naked and wet on my bed. You’re a sight I’ll never forget.” He lowers, biceps and forearms flexing, dusting kisses up my thighs, alternating sides as he gets closer and closer to my center.
I slide my hair over one shoulder and let it drape over my breast.
He growls, sweeping the hair aside. “No, baby, those are mine.”
I run my hands through his hair as he lowers his mouth to my center.
“They’re yours,” I utter, closing my eyes and letting my head fall back onto the headboard.