Chapter 7
She stands in her hallway wearing tight yoga pants and a t-shirt, every curve perfectly emphasized in a way that wakes up my cock. I should have prepped for this, taken a cold shower or doused myself with ice water. Something. Her brown hair is pulled back, a few strands falling loose around her face, making her look casual, comfortable, and mind-blowingly sexy.
My gaze snags on everything and anything that screams Maggie. Photos line the walls, family shots with her brothers grinning like idiots while she smiles brighter than anyone else. The living room is full of plush furniture and bright colors, more lived-in and welcoming than my cold bachelor pad in San Francisco. It's like stepping into the past and the future all at once, and my brain can barely handle the sensory overload.
"You’re nervous?" she asks, her delicate, Texan drawl wrapping around the words.
"Am not," I protest, sounding just like my five-year-old niece.
Maggie laughs, a sound that yanks me straight back to the summer I first realized I was hopelessly, madly, stupidly in love with her. The memories of watching her ride horses and argue with her brothers flood my mind, unbidden and powerful. I’d been so sure of myself; I thought I'd made the right call by letting her go. What a fucking joke. I'm the same wreck now that I was then.
"So, what movie did you?—"
"I'd rather skip the pizza and movie tonight," she interjects, locking her gaze on me with an intensity that pierces through me.
"What do you want?" I ask, feeling as if I’ve been hit right between the eyes with a two-by-four.
Her eyes deepen with unmistakable desire. "I want you."
Everything stops. Air. Time. Brain function. Did she really just?—?
"Maggie," I croak out, every plan I had for the evening disintegrating. God, I hope she's not messing around. I swallow, my throat suddenly drier than the Arizona desert. I want this more than my next breath, more than any win, more than anything, ever. I try to find words, but my vocal cords have gone on a permanent vacation.
“Don’t hurt me again.” She doesn’t have to worry about that. I barely survived the last ten years without her.
“I won’t,” I vow. I stand there, silent, a lifetime of wanting her screaming through me.
She meets me halfway. Her curvy body slams into mine and my control snaps. My mouth crashes against hers with ten years’ worth of hunger and longing. We bang into the hall table, but I don't give a shit about anything except her.
Her laugh is wild and breathless against my lips. It’s the best fucking sound in the world. We trip over the rug, and I hoist her up, her legs wrapping around my waist, my hands finding bare skin under her shirt.
"Bedroom," she gasps, pointing over her shoulder, and I’m helpless to resist.
Maggie's fingers tangle in my hair, pulling me closer as I navigate blindly, my heart racing like it does in the final seconds of a game.
Every part of me is on fire as we make it to the bedroom door, and I stop, breaths ragged, almost scared to ask again. "Maggie," I manage, fighting through the haze of desire. "Are you sure about this? Are you ready for this?"
Her answer is a wicked smile and a roll of her hips that sends any remaining restraint I have straight to hell. "So damn sure," she breathes, and it's all I need to hear. “I’ve been ready for this since the day we met.”
The bed creaks beneath Maggie as I lay her across the soft comforter. I rip away my clothes with frenzied impatience as her gaze burns hot. I step close to her and reach for her t-shirt. I shove the shirt up, exposing her soft belly. My abs clench with anticipation as I slide it the rest of the way off. Her breathing’s already erratic, making her breasts rise and fall like they’re teasing me, and I swear I can almost taste the salt of her skin. “Maggie,” I breathe out, the sound of my own voice unfamiliar in its naked urgency.
She looks up at me with round eyes as her lips curve into a smile that pushes me to the edge of control. Her tits are round and firm, tipped with small, hard nipples that make my cock throb. My pulse echoes through me, the frantic beat in my veins mirroring the way she glances at my straining boxers. I’m on top of her in seconds, and when her body arches up against mine, the little hitch of her breath obliterates my control. Damn it. There’s no way in hell I’m going to last.
“Off.” Her voice is demanding, her fingers pulling at my waistband. She bites down on her bottom lip, and it takes everything I have not to explode on the spot. I wiggle and pull off the boxers, and she inhales sharply as I toss them aside. My goddamn body is out of control, tensing and trembling and one pulse away from losing it completely.
I swear I can feel the heat radiating off her. “I want you,” I say, the words catching in my throat as her skin brushes mine. Jesus, do I want her. I want her more than anything, more than I’ve wanted her every second of every day, more than I thought was fucking possible. Her small hands press against my chest, and I feel it all the way to my soul. Her palms skate across my skin, testing, teasing, tracing the lines of muscle like she’s trying to memorize the feel of me. And just like that, it’s me lying on my back and her mouth grazing my neck as she pushes me down. “Maggie,” I groan, her name sounding foreign in its unhinged need. I drag my hands over her ribs, her ass, feeling the soft skin I’ve craved for as long as I can remember.
My tongue flicks over one of her nipples, and I’m half a second from completely losing my shit. “Oh my God, Maggie,” I groan, desperation leaking into my voice. My tongue drags over her hard tip, and she lets out a whimper, so soft and needy that I almost come on the spot. She wiggles her hips, rubbing her softness against my hungry cock. Her pupils are large and unfocused as she stares down at me.
My lips circle her nipple, my tongue flicking the tip, and she shivers, making my cock so hard I could drive a nail into wood with it.
My mouth skims lower, traveling the soft expanse of her stomach, lingering over her belly button before kissing a trail down to the edge of her yoga pants. She tastes like a drug, and I want to shoot her into my veins. Her scent fills my head as I drag the fabric down, pushing her legs apart with single-minded urgency. “Todd!” she gasps, and the sound of my name on her lips drives me so wild I don’t even know who the hell I am anymore.
I nearly lose my goddamn mind when she lifts her hips to meet my mouth, her eyes squeezing shut, her fingers twisting into the sheets. She’s frantic, like she can’t figure out what to do with all the pleasure rushing through her. The satisfaction of knowing I’m the one who makes her this crazed is almost too much to handle. My mouth grazes her wet center, tasting and teasing, my breath hot against her. I slide my fingers up the inside of her thigh and press them into her wet pussy.
I kiss my way back to her core, my mouth and tongue worshipping her sweetness.
She stares at me, propped up on her elbows. I flick my tongue faster against her clit while pressing my fingers against her silky opening. “Don’t stop,” she begs so damn sweetly.
“I can’t resist you,” I groan against her delicate skin.
I flick and circle her clit with my tongue and she goes crazy, grabbing at the pillows, twisting and arching her spine.
A powerful orgasm surges through her, causing her inner muscles to rhythmically contract around my fingers. I kiss my way back up her curvy body while the tremors run through her.
As her climax subsides, I position myself at her wet entrance and gaze into her eyes. She holds her breath and digs her nails into my shoulders as I push deep with one thrust. Her muscles contract around me, making it difficult for me to hold back my own impending release. “Are you okay?” I ask as her hands twist through my hair, pulling my head down to hers.
“Way, way, way okay,” she groans as I pull back and slide back in slowly.