17. Maggie
17
Maggie
I wake up surrounded by a cloud of sandalwood and citrus, an immovable wall at my back. It’s then I remember Archer slipped into my bed sometime during the night. A warm, fuzzy feeling spreads throughout my chest, and I’m unable to contain my smile. I soak it up, basking in this feeling of utter contentment.
I wish I could just stay here like this all day.
But…I can’t.
As I start to get up, the arm around my waist tightens. “Where do you think you’re going?” Archer rasps in my ear, his voice heavy with sleep, causing my toes to curl.
“I need to get up,” I answer but make no attempt to move.
As if drawn to him, my body leans back further, snuggling against his bare chest and soaking up the heat from his body.
“I told Jane I would work this morning. ”
“Mmmm…” he grumbles as he nuzzles against my neck. The light stubble that covers his jaw scrapes against my skin, causing goosebumps to break out over my arms and legs. I tilt my head to give him better access, and a low moan slips out as he bites down on the tender flesh. His hand slips under the hem of my t-shirt, gliding up over my stomach, coming to rest just below the curve of my breast.
He runs his thumbs in soft, teasing touches, never quite moving where I want him most. I push back, grinning in satisfaction as he hisses between his teeth when I rub my ass against his morning wood.
“I thought you had to get up?”
“I…uh—I do,” I say, moaning when his thumb finally brushes against my nipple.
“What time do you have to be at work?” he asks.
“Nine.” He chuckles at the little sound of protest I let out when he removes his hand.
Leaning over me, he reaches for his phone.
“What are you doing?” I ask, confused.
“It’s only eight fifteen,” he says, looking down at his phone before looking back at me.
“What time do you need to leave?”
“By…eight forty-five,” I answer, wondering where he is going with this.
“Perfect,” he says with a devious grin on his handsome face. “That gives me plenty of time.”
“Plenty of time for wha—oh,” I cry out as he rips the panties off my body, tossing them to the floor.
His large hands splay out on my knees as he gently pushes my legs apart. “Plenty of time for this,” he purrs before running his tongue up my slit.
“Your pussy tastes so good. I could spend forever with my head buried between your thighs.” He gives me a few more lazy licks. “But since we’re pressed for time, be a good girl for me, and let’s see how fast I can make you come.”
I blush furiously from his words. My God, the things this man says. No one has ever talked to me like this, and I would be lying if I said I didn’t like it.
He buries his head between my legs, eating my pussy like a man starved. When the flat of his tongue begins to circle my clit, it takes no time at all until I’m crying out in pleasure.
In the end, it takes less than five minutes, which leaves me plenty of time to return the favor in the shower by dropping to my knees and worshipping his cock.
When I get to work, I’m relieved to find the discomfort I felt from before has gone.
It’s good to be back. I think maybe Jane was right. It seems like some time off really did help me reset. I feel more like myself again, more relaxed—though some of that could be contributed to Archer and the regular orgasms he has been giving me.
Work goes by uneventfully, and at a little after two, Natya comes in to relieve me.
“Well, well, well…look who’s back,” she says, en gulfing me in a playful hug before pulling away, lightly punching me on my shoulder.
“Oww—what was that for?”
“That’s for not calling to let us know you got home okay.”
“I sent a text the next morning,” I argue weakly
“Then,” she continues on as if I hadn’t spoken, “you disappear on us for an entire fucking week. Where the hell have you been?” Guilt settles heavy in my gut at the real hurt in her eyes. I don’t know why, but I guess I assumed she wouldn’t care. I can see now that I was wrong.
“I’m sorry,” I say, wringing my hands. “It’s…kind of a long story.”
She spins around, making a big show of looking around the now empty store. “Well—it looks like we have the time. Now, spill!” she demands.
I launch into the story, telling her about how I ran into Archer after leaving the bar and then spending the past week at his house by the beach. Not wanting to talk about the attack or the break in, I leave out the circumstances surrounding our meeting. It ends up making it sound like some whirlwind romantic getaway instead of the fear inducing, pseudo kidnapping it truly was.
“Holy shit, that sounds like one of those smutty books you like to read so much,” she says waggling her eyebrows. I fight the blush I can feel already staining my cheeks. If only she knew just how true that statement really was .
I jump as the clearing of a throat interrupts our conversation, and alerts me to the customer at the counter waiting to check out. How long has he been there? My flush deepens as I wonder just what he may have overheard.
Thankfully, Natya can sense my internal freak-out, because she walks over to ring him up while I slink away to clock out.
I’m supposed to be meeting Jane here after my shift, but she hasn’t arrived yet, so I decide to hang out and read while I wait.
I’m reaching down to grab my bag from where I stashed it under the counter when Natya whistles. “Holy shit, Mags! Check out the silver fox.”
I peek up over the counter to see a middle-aged man with dark auburn hair, slightly graying at the temples. Opening the door, he steps over the threshold, and the first thing I notice is that he is dressed in an expensive suit that appears to be expertly tailored to his large frame.
The second is the many colorful tattoos that peek out above his collar and covering the backs of both his hands.
Natya is right. Objectively, the man is handsome, but something about him unnerves me. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but something about this man feels off.
Standing up fully, I step out from behind the counter.
“Welcome in. Can I…help you find anything?” I greet, my voice coming out unnaturally bright.
He spins on his heel turning to face me, his green eyes narrowing as they lock with mine. He looks me over, inspecting me intently like I’m some kind of winged insect pinned to the wall. I stand fixed in place, my heart fluttering wildly in my chest as a light sweat breaks out over my skin, making my palms feel clammy.
Finally, he breaks his gaze, and I let out the breath I was holding in a whoosh.
“No. Thank you,” he answers. His rich baritone voice comes out with the slightest hint of an Irish lilt. “I’m just—looking.”
“Well, let us know if you need anything.”
Now thoroughly creeped out, I dash back to the safety of the register, where Natya stands with wide, unblinking eyes.
“What the hell was that about?” she whispers under her breath.
“I have no idea,” I say honestly, not taking my eyes off the mysterious patron.
Determined not to leave Natya alone with this man, I grab my bag and wait for Jane at one of the small tables in front of the large bay window at the front of the store.
As it turns out, he doesn’t stay long. He peruses the shelves briefly, never picking anything up, before he walks towards the exit empty handed. Pausing at the door, he turns to me, catching my eye before he says, “I’ll be seeing you.”
A shiver rolls down my spine. What. The. Fuck— Seriously, what is with that guy?
A loud thump pulls my attention away, and I look over to see Jane. She stands unmoving, staring blankly at the door the man just disappeared through. I walk over to her, bending down to pick up the book she dropped, but it’s as if she doesn’t even see me.
“Hey,” I say, tapping her lightly on the arm. “You okay? Do you need to sit down?”
I gesture to the chair I just vacated, unsure what’s going on but worried she may pass out. She looks entirely too pale, and I wonder if she has eaten anything today.
I’m immediately flooded with guilt. I never should have stayed away a whole week. She obviously hasn’t been taking care of herself.
Her head turns to me with a vacant expression, “Who was that man?” she asks.
“I don’t know. Just a customer, I guess. Seriously—are you sure you don’t want to sit?”
She shakes her head, looking back towards the door.
“Do you know him or something?”
“No…I don’t. He just looked like someone…” She trails off before turning back to me, smiling broadly, the haunted expression now wiped clean from her face.
That’s odd .
“Now—look at you darling girl,” she chimes, taking my hands and holding my arms out at my sides. She looks me up and down before throwing her arms around me in a warm embrace. Something in my gut unknots as her familiar scent of lavender and patchouli surrounds me and chases away any lingering sense of unease. “You look wonderful. Practically glowing. I told you some time off was just what you needed.”
“Yeah—that and all the sun and smooches she’s got from her new lover,” I hear Natya’s teasing tone from behind me.
“Oh…is that right?” Jane cocks her head to the side, one eyebrow raised.
I shoot Natya a scathing look. No, she didn’t just call me out like that. Unfazed, she shoots me a wink before going back to her restocking.
“So it would seem we have some catching up to do. Why don’t we grab something to eat, and you can tell me all about this mystery man?” she says, leading me toward the door. “Who knows—I may even tell you about mine.”
“Wait…what?” My head swivels in her direction, sure I misheard.
As far as I know, Jane has never dated or had a boyfriend—at least, none that she told me about.
“Oh, don’t look so scandalized. I may be old but I’m not dead yet,” she says with a wink.
I look back at these past months with different eyes, taking in her pink, rosy cheeks and how her amber eyes appear brighter somehow. Is he the reason?
She has been so much happier, stronger, so full of life. I assumed it was because of her new medication regimen, but could it actually be attributed—at least partly—to this man she’s been seeing?
We grab takeout from our favorite Thai place around the corner, bringing it back to her house. Jane opens a bottle of white wine, and we both settle down on the old worn sofa where we’ve spent many a night binging movies and old re-runs. Placing the takeout containers on the coffee table we dig into our food .
“So…tell me about this man,” Jane says to me.
I take a slow bite of my basil tofu stir-fry as I think how best to answer her question.
Yes, it’s clear she has been doing so much better, but that doesn’t mean she won’t have a relapse. I don’t want to stress her unnecessarily, but I also can’t stand the idea of continually lying to her.
In the end, I decide to give her the same story I told Natya: that Archer and I met when he came to my rescue after I took a fall—leaving out the minor detail that I was also attacked and almost kidnapped by a mad man—and that he drove me home after.
I do tell her about the break-in, though, and she takes it about how I expected her to.
It’s only after I thoroughly reassure her that they caught the man responsible and that he was in jail, where he cannot hurt me, and inform her about the extravagant security system Archer had installed does she finally seem to calm down.
“So—you really like this guy?” she asks me.
“Yea. I really do, but…it’s sort of complicated.”
“Oh, honey—it always is.”
“Okay, enough about me. Tell me about this mystery man you’ve been seeing,” I say, suddenly very curious about who it is she’s dating.
Turns out her new beau is Dr. William Osborne, her neurologist, and apparently, they’ve been seeing each other for the past year. That news shocks me.
I’m not even gonna lie, I’m hurt by the fact that she didn’t tell me. Why would she keep this from me ?
She says they wanted to keep it a secret while they worked on transferring her care to another physician, because even though it’s not exactly taboo, it is frowned upon for a doctor to date one of their patients. Which I totally get, but it’s not like I would have said anything. I just wish she would have been honest with me— sort of like how you’re being so honest with her?
I try not to show that I’m upset, because I can tell by the way she talks about him that she loves him, and I’m happy for her.
Still, I can’t help thinking, now she has him, she doesn’t really need me anymore.
I know it’s ridiculous, that it’s just my insecurities making me feel this way, but I can’t shake the feeling that now she has someone else to help care for her, she no longer has any use for me. I’ve played the role of caregiver for so long, I’m not sure how I fit into her life if not that.
We end up finishing off the bottle of wine as we spend the next few hours talking about anything and everything, something we haven’t done in far too long. It starts to grow dark outside, and I check my phone, finding a missed text from Archer informing me he would be working late tonight. Something about some charity benefit for next week that has been giving him hell.
After my initial disappointment wears off, I realize some space might not be a bad thing. We have been together every day for the past week, and I don’t want him to grow tired of me.
Since I rode here with Jane, and it looks like she can no longer drive, I was planning to order a car to take me home, but decide to save myself some money and just stay here instead.
As I lay in the dark, staring up at the glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling of my childhood bedroom, I reflect on how much my life has changed in such a short period of time. It’s all so overwhelming.
That blissful feeling from this morning, waking up in Archer’s embrace, has now faded, and doubt is quickly settling in. About me, him…us. What happens when I’m no longer something he needs to protect?
It’s like everything is happening too fast.
Our relationship feels so fragile, so delicate, and I can’t help but wonder how long it can really last. He said he wasn’t going to let me go, and I want so desperately to believe that, but I feel like I’m constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop, for him to walk away like everyone else in my life.
My phone chimes, and the screen lights up the darkened room.
I pick it up to see a text from Archer, a response from one I sent earlier to let him know we drank a little too much and that I was staying the night at Jane’s.
Archer: Sounds like that’s a good idea.
Archer: Though I can’t say I’m not disappointed that I don’t get to sneak in and taste your delicious cunt again.
Me: Good lord, the mouth on you.
Archer: Oh, but you love my mouth. Especially when it’s buried between your pretty little legs.
Me : Oh my God! Will you behave? My mom is across the hall.
Archer: If you insist…but tomorrow, you are mine.
Archer: Goodnight, Little Rose.
Me : Goodnight