30. Maggie
Chapter thirty
Maggie
I loved my baby. I loved my baby. I loved them more than anything else.
Really, I did.
What I did not love was them tumbling on my bladder like it was a freaking trampoline and giving me the worst aches in every part of my body.
Or my swollen ankles, the puffy cheeks I tortured with ice daily, or the constant, itching hunger for every food in sight that never stopped.
As excited as I was to have this baby, being pregnant sucked .
Although pregnancy did have its perks. I wouldn’t miss the way strangers offered a warm smile when they saw my belly, or offered to carry my bags at the grocery store.
While it was a growing town, Golden Meadow never failed to display its small-town charisma and charm.
People were warm and helpful and so kind.
Only once had I gotten myself into a yelling match with someone in the coffee shop parking lot because they scratched Jack’s— our —truck, and I was having very bad mood swings that day.
Nevertheless, it felt homey. I was never alone because I always had our little baby hanging around in my stomach. Jack hardly liked to leave me alone for too long anymore because he was concerned for me and the baby. I already knew how wonderful a father he was going to be.
The front door opened and closed quietly as I rolled to my side and adjusted the covers in our bed.
Ever since the night we said I love you to each other, we hadn’t spent a night apart, save for the ones I paced the house with pregnancy insomnia.
The locks clicking everywhere downstairs told me Jack was home.
My heart jumped at the idea of him sliding into bed with me and curling up against me with his warmth, and, if I were lucky, maybe I would get a massage to relieve the back pain that would end me.
“Hey,” I whispered as he entered our bedroom, trying to be quiet.
He started at the sound of my voice. “Hey, I didn’t know you’d be awake.” He sounded…accusatory? Like I wasn’t supposed to notice the time he got home, which was only ten-thirty.
“Yeah, I couldn’t sleep.” Usually, that was the case, but I always waited up for him when he was out. Or at least stayed up as late as my body allowed.
Jack began shedding his clothes and tossed them in the hamper in the corner. Though it was dark, I tried to read his expression. His eyes were distant.
“How was Mike’s? Did you guys get a contract figured out for next season?”
“Uh, yeah. Everything’s worked out.” I disliked how quick and closed-off his sentences were. He never was a good liar, and the ticks he displayed when he wasn’t telling the truth flashed like red alarms.
I wasn’t sure how I felt about this. Did something happen? Was there a falling out? Did Jack have a contract for next season? Was he okay?
“Oh…well, that’s good.”
“Yeah.” Sharp. Quick. Disinterested.
He slid into bed at the edge of the mattress. It was a king, and Jack was huge, so there was usually no way we didn’t touch. I turned to face him and attempted to scoot closer to his body, but my lopsided figure made it challenging to do so smoothly. Jack’s back faced me.
“Hey,” I placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “If something happened, you can tell me.”
He didn’t turn or speak. Just reached his hand up to cover mine.
I didn’t want him to be distant. I didn’t want to keep secrets. I wanted to be open with each other like we had been the last few months. I wanted to hold each other and say whatever came to mind without hesitation. “Jack–”
Without warning, Jack flipped over and pressed his body on top of mine in a rushed motion.
My bump separated us more than I liked, but the action shifted my focus nonetheless.
His elbows rested above my shoulders on either side of my head, his dark eyes intense.
My eyes searched his for some reason for his change in behavior.
He tucked my hair behind my ear and cupped my face.
I could feel the tension between us—not just sexual, but emotional—and I knew something was wrong.
This wasn’t the best way to handle it—I knew that—but if it was what Jack needed at that moment, I was willing to give it to him.
Right after trying one more time.
“I can tell when you’re lying, you know.”
The accusatory tone his voice held a few moments ago appeared on his face. He quickly covered it up and gave me his sex eyes.
“And I can tell when you’re turned on,” he teased, looking above me to the left.
Still lying.
I didn’t know why my mind went to the place it did, but the idea of disloyalty popped into my head. Sneaking off to some other woman’s house and giving her the same treatment he gave me…
Stop it. Jack would never go back to that. This is one night. He’s not your dad.
Was I going crazy? Why were all of these horrible thoughts infiltrating my mind?
Either Jack didn’t notice the crazed thoughts going through my head, or he pretended not to, because as soon as my gaze refocused on him, his lips collided with mine, claiming me as his.
It was intense from the get-go—my fingers threading through his hair and his gripping the back of my neck to pull me closer.
Goosebumps formed up my arms, and I was thankful none of my sleep shorts fit me anymore as Jack placed his hand under my ass and pulled my left leg to wrap around him.
As often as we did this, I would never become numb to his touch.
The way his fingertips burned my skin, leaving a wake of pleasure and desire to light me up inside.
The way he groaned into my mouth when I took his tongue deeper into mine.
The way our hips couldn’t get any closer due to my bump, but he pulled me tighter against him anyway.
He promised me earlier in the evening that he would go down on me in the glider, but I knew that wasn’t what this was.
Something else was going on, but I couldn’t bring myself back to reality until the tension in my lower regions was released.
“Jack,” I gasped as his mouth left mine and traveled to the spot between my jaw and my neck. His teeth nipped at the skin, surely leaving a mark, and I tugged his head closer.
“What do you need, baby?” His lips moved lower to my collarbone while his hands traveled upward beneath my sleep shirt, tracing my bump and cupping my breasts.
My core pressed further against him to feel his steel length.
God, I felt him everywhere . We had barely begun anything, and I already knew my orgasm wasn’t far off.
“I need…I need you to touch me,” I spoke between breaths.
Jack’s response was immediate. My entire body shuddered as his right hand torturously skimmed along my side.
He slid between my legs and rubbed a thumb against my panties.
I didn’t need to reach my hand down to know I was soaked to the bone.
Especially— oh —when his thumb grazed my clit.
Even with the thin layer of fabric between us, I could feel myself getting closer to the brink of pleasure.
“Fuck,” he groaned into my neck. “I’ve barely started touching you, and you’re so wet for me.
” His voice was so gravelly, so husky, that it didn’t even sound like himself.
He had been replaced with an angrier, broodier Jack who only wanted to release his frustration through sex, and I was here for it.
The heat spreading across my body made it difficult to speak.
Or move. Or do anything that required brain function.
Tingles crawled up my body from my toes to my hair as he continued to rub my clit through my panties.
His other fingers teased the edge of the fabric where my thigh met my folds, faintly moving back and forth.
The sensation was fucking killing me. Hot breath met my ear as he rubbed harder.
“Come on, Maggie. Finish what I started.”
If nothing else, his voice—that fucking sex voice of his—did me in. And Jack always did it the right way.
“I-ca–” I stuttered before he pressed his cock against me and bit into my neck with a desperate moan. “Oh, my god.”
Blackness threatened to take over my eyes while I forced them open.
Pleasure and release and a relentless want for him shot through my veins as my orgasm took over my body.
Even still, Jack continued to rub his fingers against me, moving my panties to one side so he could feel me come on his fingers.
He drew it out longer than I imagined was possible.
When I finally finished unraveling, he shoved his body beneath the covers and sucked my clit into his mouth, provoking even more of me to spill onto his waiting lips.
“Fuck, you taste so good,” he mumbled through mouthfuls of swallowing my release. His hands had moved under my ass to squeeze while he continued licking me until there was nothing left.
Shivers still wracked my body as I experienced the aftershocks of my orgasm.
My fingers clutched his shoulders—nails probably digging in too deep, but Jack once told me he appreciated the momento—and my legs still shook when he crawled up to face me.
I heaved as I tried to speak. “That was…single-handedly….the best th-”
“Shh,” he grinned and pressed his lips to mine, swiping his tongue through my lips so I could taste myself on him. Of course, it only made me shake even more and squeeze his shoulders harder. Jack smirked at my reaction.
The curve of his mouth hit me with a wave of insecurity. He never looked at me like that. He always looked pleased with his ability to wring pleasure from my body, but never so…vanquished.
But he didn’t give me more than five seconds to overthink it, because he was reaching below the covers and ripping off my t-shirt. Shoving his boxers down. Crowding me into the mattress, even though no room was left between us.
“I want to do this for you, Maggie,” he breathed into my neck.
“You do everything for me. Let me do something for you.”
That made him pull back and meet my gaze. Uncertainty coated his features.
“Jack…” My hands cupped his face. He looked terrified. “Please, let me help you.” Whatever he was keeping from me was killing him, and I couldn’t get it out of him. All my pleading did was bring him to distract me with his body. With our connection.
The sexual connection we started with that morphed into so much more. We were more than that.
Reaching down to give his cock a few tugs, he rubbed his tip up and down my slit. I moaned in response. “This is all I need, right here.”
I clutched his shoulders and Jack pushed inside of me. Hard . He thrusted twice giving me a few seconds to accommodate his thick girth.
The heat behind my hips grew, and I knew my second orgasm wasn’t far off.
My hips met his every movement, our bodies dancing in a way that made the world stop spinning.
Jack held the back of my head in his hands, looking at me like this was the last time he would have me like this.
The sense of finality in his eyes brought tears to mine.
What is happening?
We fucked and moaned each other’s names. Jack bit my neck. I bit his bottom lip. My legs shook and tightened around his waist. Jack kept them open, so I couldn’t suppress the friction in my core.
Something I loved about Jack was the way he always looked at me like I was his everything. When we had sex, when we talked, when we worked in the barn, and snuck secret glances at each other. But tonight, he looked at me like he was losing everything. And I had no idea why or what to do with it.
When we were finally sated and draped against each other, Jack pulled back to examine my face. I was heaving and shaking and trying to get my body back under control.
“Damn, I did a number on you tonight, didn’t I?”
The cockiness in his voice was different from what he usually sounded like after sex. Like he was proud he did what he did, but didn’t necessarily sound grateful that it was me. It sounded like…Playboy Jack.
Covering up my thoughts, I replied, “Yeah, you did. That was a pretty nice gesture from my husband.” His face immediately tightened, and I knew something was off. What was going on with him?
He ran a hand through his sweaty hair and rolled off me to head to the bathroom. “That’s me, baby.”
He didn’t look at me when he said it.
He looked away when he tried to deny lying.
He was giving me a reason to doubt him. Maybe not his loyalty, but his trust.
“Jack?” I called toward the bathroom.
“Yeah?” His response was echoey, like he was away from the door.
“Is everything okay?” I heard the sink turn on, then off, and Jack emerged from the door with his eyebrows raised as if it was absurd that I was asking that in the first place.
“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?” He still didn’t make eye contact.
It was late. I was exhausted. Confronting him right now, while whatever was going on was still fresh, was probably not the best idea.
Now wasn’t the time to get into a long discussion anyway.
I had an early lesson in the morning that I needed to be well-rested for, and this conversation would only drain me more than the baby had.
“Never mind,” I sighed. “I’m just tired.”
Typically, if this were my response to something, Jack would hurry into bed, pull me into his arms, and stroke my hair until I told him what was wrong or I fell asleep. But not tonight. Tonight, he simply shrugged and said, “I’m sorry. Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”
I sank further down into the bed and turned away from him.
He didn’t need to know about the tears forming in my eyes or the fact that my mind was jumping to extreme conclusions that could change the course of my entire life.
He didn’t need to know that if something went awry, it might just leave my baby and me in the dust.