Chapter Five
Maggie sat on the couch, eyes fixed on the flickering TV screen where a movie played, its dialogue and scenes slipping past her unheeded. Fatigue weighed heavily on her, yet sleep remained elusive, teasing her from the edges of her consciousness. The movie, a cascade of colors and sounds, was little more than a distraction from her restless thoughts.
She glanced at the clock, the hands creeping just past ten. The realization struck her; morning was inevitable, and she needed sleep, needed to close her eyes and drift away from the turmoil in her mind.
“Damn you, Rafe Marshall,” she muttered to the empty room, her voice a soft echo against the walls.
Her thoughts spun back to sex with Rafe, the intensity of it searing in her memory. It had been an encounter like no other, leaving her yearning for more. But she knew he didn’t reciprocate those feelings, a painful truth that gnawed at her heart. A single tear escaped, tracing a path down her cheek, and she wiped it away with frustration.
Seeking solace, she decided on a hot, soothing bath. She’d taken a shower earlier, but she needed something to ease this tension inside her. The Afghan draped over her legs was pushed aside as she sat up and stood, her movements sluggish with exhaustion. Just as the promise of warm water beckoned, a noise from outside stilled her, a sudden intrusion into her solitude.
“What was that?” she whispered to herself, tiptoeing cautiously toward the door. Pressing an eye to the peephole, she was met with darkness. Her heart skipped a beat when a knock resounded through the stillness. Who could it be at this hour?
“Maggie? It’s Rafe.” His voice, familiar and unexpected, sent a jolt through her. She gasped softly, stepping closer to the door, her fingers finding the switch to illuminate the outside light. Peering through the peephole once more, she saw him standing there, his gaze fixed intently on the door. Resting her forehead against the hard metal, she pondered his sudden appearance.
“Only one way to find out,” she murmured to herself, steeling her nerves. Clearing her throat, she called out, “Rafe? What are you doing here this late?”
“I was at Dewey’s. I think we should talk.” His words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken intent.
“Oh, boy.” Maggie exhaled a long sigh, unlocking the door and pulling it open to face him. “About what?”
He met her gaze with a knowing smirk. “I believe you know.”
“Are you drunk?” she asked, searching his eyes for signs of inebriation.
“No. I had two beers. Are you going to let me in, or should I leave?”
Their eyes locked in a silent understanding, she realized they indeed needed to talk. With a resigned nod, she swung the door open wider, stepping aside to let him pass. He removed his hat, wiped his feet on the mat, then moved past her, the scent of his aftershave lingered in the air, enveloping her senses. She closed the door with a soft thud, sealing them inside her apartment as he hung his hat on a hook.
She observed him as he glanced around the room, his gaze eventually settling on her.
“This is a nice place,” he remarked, his voice carrying a note of genuine appreciation.
“Thank you. Please, sit down.” She gestured toward the sofa.
Rafe inclined his head, indicating for her to lead the way, and then he followed her. As she settled onto the cushions, his eyes drifted toward the curtain that subtly concealed her sleeping area.
“Is this all open?” he inquired, easing himself beside her, a hint of curiosity in his voice.
“Except for the bath. I didn’t care for the bed being out in the open, so I bought the dressing screen.” Maggie shrugged.
“It looks nice.” Rafe inhaled deeply, as if gathering his thoughts. “Maggie, I don’t want you to think I regret—”
“Oh, but you do, Rafe.” Her voice was gentle yet firm, tinged with understanding.
“No. No, I don’t. It’s just that…” He hesitated, as if searching for the right words.
“What?” she prompted.
“I wonder how Fred would feel about it.”
“Fred? Why would he care one way or the other?” she asked, her brow furrowing slightly in confusion.
“You’re his daughter-in-law.”
“Not really. Look, Fred and I are close. I love him like a father, but he has no say in who I’m with, or is it because I’d be with you? You think that would bother him?”
“I’m not sure how he’d feel about you being with me. What happens if we do get together and I hurt you—”
She inhaled sharply, a quick intake of breath that filled the moment with tension. “Not like that. Maggie, I would never raise a hand to you. What if I broke your heart, or you broke mine? We break up, whatever. Who do you think Fred would be disappointed in? Me. He’d be disappointed in me. Not you. You’re like a daughter to him. You can do no wrong. God help the man who hurts you ever again. Fred knows what his son did to you, and I’m positive he doesn’t want to see you hurt. In any way. I never want to make that man disappointed in me. Not after all he’s done for me.”
“So, we’re supposed to ignore how attracted we are to each other because of Fred?” she asked, a hint of incredulous amusement in her tone.
“Well, it sounds stupid when you put it that way,” Rafe muttered, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips.
Maggie laughed “Rafe, before we worry about how Fred feels, maybe we should find out how we feel?”
Rafe shifted closer to her on the sofa, his fingers gently threading through her hair as he gazed deeply into her eyes.
“Do you know what my thought was the first time I saw you?” he asked, his voice a soft whisper that hung in the air between them.
“No, what?” she breathed, her heart fluttering in anticipation.
“I wished I had met you first.”
“I wish you had too. I hated being married to him.”
“So, why did you marry him?”
“I’ll tell you sometime, just not tonight.”
“Alright.” Rafe stood. “I guess we can see if this will go anywhere.”
“I’d like that,” Maggie replied, her voice barely above a whisper, filled with a mix of anticipation and vulnerability.
He nodded thoughtfully. “Okay. I’d better get going then.”
Maggie watched him as he walked to where his hat hung on a peg. She then rose and moved toward him.
“So, now what?” she asked, her eyes searching his.
“We’ll go out. How about next Saturday night? I could get reservations at The Hartland if you’d like.” His voice was filled with casual confidence, yet there was a hint of hopefulness in the suggestion. He removed his hat from the peg and held it in his hands.
“I love their food. That sounds nice,” she said.
“Okay.” Their gazes locked, and Maggie couldn’t suppress the wide grin spreading across her lips. “What’s that for?” he asked, tilting his head with a curious smile.
She shook her head, laughter bubbling up. “I still can’t get over you walking out of that pool, completely naked.”
He grinned. “I always swim nude. How was I supposed to know you were going to show up?”
“But you could have stayed in the pool until I left,” she teased, her tone playful yet challenging.
“Where’s the fun in that?” Rafe chuckled.
“You did it on purpose, Rafe. You wanted to shock me.”
“And did I?” He raised an eyebrow, a sly smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
“You had me tongue-tied. You have an amazing body.” She stepped closer, her voice dropping to a soft murmur. “Every inch of it is impressive.”
“Same for you.” His fingers brushed lightly through several strands of her hair, their touch lingering for a moment before he turned away to open the door.
“Rafe?”
“Yeah?” He glanced back, one hand resting on the cool metal of the doorknob.
“Stay.”
“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice low and earnest, as if seeking reassurance in her eyes.
“Yes. How about we try a bed this time?” She smiled, hoping he wouldn’t turn her down.
He released the doorknob with a lingering touch, hung his hat back up, and drew her into his arms. Then he pressed his lips to hers with an urgency that sent sparks dancing along her skin. She responded with a soft moan, her fingers threading eagerly through his soft, dark hair as if to memorize each strand. His hands found her waist, gripping firmly as he pulled her even closer, melding their bodies into one matching embrace.
Slowly, deliberately, Rafe lifted his lips and locked his gaze with hers, his eyes reflecting a deep, simmering desire. “I want you so much, Maggie,” he whispered, each word dripping with fervent longing.
“I want you too, Rafe,” she replied breathily. With a step back, she released him from their close embrace just enough to take his hand, leading him toward her bed as if she were guiding him into a private, sacred space. Once there, she gently lifted his T-shirt over his head, letting it fall to the floor in a soft cascade of fabric.
His voice softened to a murmured confession as he placed his face against her neck, planting tender kisses along its delicate curve. “I have to see you again,” he said, before trailing his lips upward to her ear. There, he captured her lobe between his teeth in a playful yet earnest gesture, whispering, “I want to fuck you hard,” in a tone that made her moan.
Maggie’s hands wandered down his defined chest, her touch exploring the strong line of his hard pecs and the subtle ridges of his six-pack, until her fingertips found the glimmering buckle of his belt. With swift, sure movements, she unhooked it and slid the zipper down, the fabric shifting to reveal the hardness beneath. Gently, she allowed her hand to slip beneath, wrapping her fingers around him; his groan of pleasure was deep and unrestrained when she squeezed just so.
“As I said, impressive,” she murmured seductively, her lips trailing across his chest in a series of soft, heated kisses.
Rafe lifted her effortlessly and carried her to the center of the bed. He placed her gently on the soft mattress before sitting on the edge to remove his boots. Then he stood, facing her with a mixture of eagerness and admiration, and shed his jeans and boxer briefs, revealing an athletic and sculpted form that seemed almost too perfect to be real. Maggie’s eyes roamed over his chiseled body, tracing every defined muscle and sinewy line. With a teasing smile, she playfully crooked her finger at him, prompting an irrepressible grin to spread across his face.
He moved, shaking his head in silent understanding as he ambled to the foot of the bed. There, he reached down and removed her lounge pants with a fluid motion, revealing more of her enticing silhouette. Standing upright, he arched a questioning eyebrow.
“Commando?” he asked softly.
“Yes. Rafe, please,” she replied, her voice both commanding and tender.
“I will,” he promised, lowering himself onto one knee on the bed. With deliberate care, he pulled her into a sitting position and gently removed her T-shirt. Their lips met again in an unbroken, passionate kiss as he lowered her onto the bed. His kiss was a blend of hunger and tenderness; his hand drifted with measured caresses down to cup her breast. His thumb brushed over her nipple, coaxing it to harden, then repeated the slow, teasing ritual on the other one.
After a lingering kiss that sent shivers along her skin, his lips embarked on a journey down her body—skimming her chin, caressing the curve of her neck, trailing over her exposed chest until they finally reached her breast. There, he took her nipple deep into his mouth, sucking with a slow, almost reverent intensity.
Maggie’s fingers dug into his hair as he continued his descent, each kiss sparking a fire within her. He gently nudged her legs apart, then cradled her lower body as he buried his face between her legs, lavishing attention on her clitoris with slow, deliberate suckling. He savored every precious second until the rising tide of pleasure overwhelmed her, and she cried out as her climax came in a burst of unbridled ecstasy.
Reaching over the side of the bed, Rafe extracted his wallet from his jeans to retrieve a condom. Maggie watched closely as he tore open the packet, but before he could roll it on, she took it from him. With measured, deliberate care, she unrolled it slowly down his hardened cock, her eyes never leaving his, as if etching the moment into memory.
He positioned himself between her legs, his cock pressing against her. Slowly—too damn slowly—he pushed inside her, inch by excruciating inch. Maggie gasped, her nails digging into his back as he filled her completely.
“You feel so fucking good,” Rafe groaned, his voice raw and ragged. “So tight, so wet for me.”
“Harder,” she begged, arching her back to take him deeper. He obliged, slamming into her with a force that made her gasp. His thrusts were relentless, hard and fast, his hips grinding against hers with every stroke. She could feel his cock inside her, stretching her in the most delicious way.
Rafe’s hand slid between them, his thumb finding her clitoris and rubbing it slowly. It was too much—the combination of him slamming into her and touching her sent her spiraling into another orgasm. She screamed his name as pleasure ripped through her body, her inner walls clenching around him like a vice.
Rafe groaned, his thrusts becoming erratic as he followed right behind her. She felt him pulsing inside her, as he came with a guttural groan.
He collapsed on top of her, his chest heaving as he kissed her roughly.
“Fuck,” he panted against her lips. “You’re incredible.”
Maggie smiled lazily, running her fingers through his hair. “That was amazing.”
****
Rafe shifted onto his back, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he struggled to draw in deep, stabilizing breaths. He had experienced passion many times before with women who radiated allure and heat, yet none had ignited his senses quite like Maggie did. As she gradually turned to face him, her eyes shimmering with tenderness, she draped her arm across his waist.
“You’re not going to regret this, are you?” she asked.
His voice, low and confident, replied, “Sweetheart, I told you I didn’t regret it the first time. No, I don’t regret it now either. It’s never been quite as hot.”
For a moment, the room seemed to pulse with the residual heat of their passion. “I feel the same. It has never been better,” Maggie admitted warmly. “I’ve been with three other men, but none compare to you, Rafe.”
“I was thinking the exact same thing. No woman I’ve ever been with has ever matched this intensity.”
Maggie’s playful smile deepened. “I was just about to take a relaxing bath, before you showed up. Care to join me?”
“Absolutely,” he replied. “But let me use the bathroom first.”
With a gesture, Maggie pointed toward a door across the room. Rafe slowly rose to his feet, his muscles flexing as he moved, and walked to the bathroom. Inside, after carefully removing the condom and washing his hands, he opened the door. There, he saw Maggie still sprawled languidly across the bed, her skin bathed in a soft, natural glow that made him grin with anticipation.
“I’ll start the water,” he said.
“Okay,” Maggie replied, though she remained motionless for a moment, basking in the afterglow.
“Maggie? Are you going to join me in the bath or are you planning to stay in bed?” he teased.
With a soft sigh, she sat up, the sight of her newfound naked vulnerability stirring a fresh desire in him. He felt a subtle twitch of longing, already craving her again.
When Maggie finally stepped into the bathroom, she flicked on the tap to turn the water on, as Rafe had momentarily neglected that task. She slipped into the tub, while Rafe settled at the opposite end so that they faced each other. The warm glow of the bathroom lights flickered on their wet skin, and the steam mingled with the rich aftertaste of intimacy. Picking up a bar of fragrant soap, she lathered her hands and began to gently wash his chest, her touch both tender and deliberate.
“Am I going to smell like roses?” Rafe teased.
“No. This one is lavender.” Maggie laughed when he groaned.
“Great.” He shook his head.
“Did you go to Dewey’s alone?” Maggie asked, her tone curious yet relaxed.
Rafe shook his head. “No, Nate met me there. We stayed a few hours together.”
Maggie leaned in a bit closer, her voice soft as she probed further. “Does he know?”
“Know what?” Rafe inquired, his eyes narrowing playfully.
“About you and me.”
With a small nod, he admitted, “Yes. It was actually his idea for me to come here and talk with you.”
A mischievous grin spread across Maggie’s face. “I’ll thank him the next time I see him.”
Rafe smiled briefly before frowning. “What is Maggie short for? Margaret?”
“Magdalena.”
“Really? That’s a beautiful name for a beautiful woman,” Rafe remarked.
“Is Rafe short for anything?”
He chuckled. “Nope. Just plain ole’ Rafe.”
“There is nothing plain about you,” Maggie said softly. “I remember the day I met you, I thought you were the most handsome man I’d ever seen.”
“And I thought you were the most beautiful woman I’d ever laid my eyes on, and you were with that… prick,” Rafe said, his tone shifting from adoration to irritation as he frowned. “You’re going to explain that to me, Maggie.”
Her eyes softened in apology. “I will. I promise, just not yet.”
“Alright,” he conceded, the warmth in his tone mingling with a trace of seriousness. “But I want no secrets between us.”
After a brief pause, Maggie countered with an invitation to share more: “Tell me about your parents and how you ended up with Fred.”
Rafe let out a heavy sigh, leaning back against the cool porcelain of the tub as memories began to unfurl. “My parents... they were never good people. They drank constantly—so much so that I can’t recall a time when they were sober. I remember my father’s hand all too clearly; he used to hit me, and because they were always too drunk, I ended up doing everything around the house. My mother never stepped in to protect me. One night, when I was just seventeen, his blow knocked me out. When I came to, I knew that I had to escape that toxic environment. I packed a duffle bag with the little belongings I had and silently slipped out through my bedroom window. I had no plan or destination in mind, but somehow, I ended up at Nate’s place. His parents understood my struggle and allowed me to stay as long as I continued with school. I did, though I always knew I needed to carve a future for myself. My parents went there looking for me, but Nate’s parents told them they either let me stay with them or they’d call the cops for child abuse.” Rafe shook his head. “Nate’s mother wanted to anyway, but I told her I’d end up in foster care, so she agreed not to call. I’m glad she did. Nate’s parents are wonderful people. They’re the kind of parents every kid wants. I still love them and see them when I can.”
The water in the tub flowed steadily as Rafe continued his story. “One day I was in The Feed Store, browsing a board filled with job postings. I had planned to post that I was looking for work for the summer until I saw Fred’s posting, seeking part-time help. I called him up, and he invited me to his ranch. The moment I met him, I felt drawn to the opportunity. Fred was the kindest man I’d ever encountered. He gave me the job for that summer, and after I graduated, I kept on working for him. I’ve never regretted that decision.”
Curiosity led Maggie to ask, “When did you actually meet Frederick?”
Rafe’s tone grew wry. “That first summer was when we met. Despite being a year younger than me, Junior had a way of making me feel insignificant. One day in the barn, when he got smart with me in front of everyone, I called him out and we got into it. He threatened to fire me. I told him that if he hadn’t hired me, he certainly couldn’t fire me. He didn’t appreciate that at all. He stormed over, probably expecting me to cower, but I stood my ground. He swung, and missed, so I countered with a punch to his chin that sent him sprawling onto the barn floor. He scrambled up, threatened that his father would fire me, and then hastily fled. The other guys all clapped me on the back; they’d secretly wanted to challenge him too. The next day in the barn, I saw Fred enter and braced myself for his anger, yet he merely smiled, winked at me, and walked out. I knew in that moment I’d never leave his side. I’ve had more confrontations with Junior since; I can’t stand him, and I know he harbors a similar animosity toward me. When Luke McCallister showed up about the horses missing, I had no doubt in my mind that Junior was the one who stole Fred’s horses—what a fucking asshole.”
Maggie’s eyes softened as she murmured, “Yes, he’s truly awful. Do you ever see your parents?”
Rafe’s voice dropped into a quiet resignation. “I haven’t seen them in a long time. They came to my cabin about a year ago, asking for money, but I told them to stay away and let me be. I haven’t set eyes on them since.”
“I’m sorry they treated you that way,” Maggie whispered, her tone filled with genuine sorrow.
Rafe’s gaze turned inward as he murmured, “You were treated the same way by Junior, Maggie.”
Maggie couldn’t help but laugh softly at his comment. “You do love calling him Junior, don’t you?”
Rafe chuckled. “Yep, because he absolutely hates it when I do.”
Maggie shook her head. “He’s an evil man. I sometimes wonder how he turned out like that when Fred is such a sweetheart.”
“Yeah, me too. He thinks he’s above everyone.”
“Well, he’s not. I hope I never see him again.” Maggie sighed. “Let’s get out and get some sleep. I’m exhausted.”
“Me too.” Rafe stood and the water cascaded down his body as he reached for a towel. He motioned for her to stand and when she did, he couldn’t help but run his eyes over her body. He knew she was the woman he wanted in his life. He always had, but since she was married, he never let her know. Things were different now, and he planned to spend as much time with her as he could and hoped she’d eventually feel the same way about him.