Maggie
THREE
The Nash Effect.
That’s what all the teachers called it…whispered about, said it like it was some kind of trick. I’d been fully convinced that I was, naturally, immune. I’d talked to him. Noticed he was attractive, hadn’t made it a thing. I was in love, I was safe.
I guess I still felt safe in that moment…but I was absolutely falling under his spell.
He tilted his head, his breath warm against my lips. I thought he was going to kiss me, but he didn’t; he was taking his time, just…in my space, touching my face, his rough thumb gliding over my cheekbone.
He smelled like whiskey and aftershave.
I was drunk on it…and absolutely not drunk on those screwdrivers, which I was acutely aware were full of nothing but orange juice.
I was making this decision of sound mind, which almost made it worse.
“You can leave whenever you want,” he said, voice rough. “You change your mind…I stop. No hesitation. No guilt.”
The first place he kissed me was the hinge of my jaw. I let out this little sound. He didn’t seem even remotely surprised.
“But here’s what’s gonna happen next, and I want to be clear, because we’ve been hedging around it.”
Another kiss to my throat. I tilted my head to give him better access, closing my eyes.
“I’m going to undress you right here at the bar…and you’re going to sit all pretty and naked for me on this barstool while I kneel in front of you and lick your pussy. I’m going to lick you until you come. More than once, probably.”
Oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god.
“I won’t take you upstairs until you know you want to stay,” he said. “But then, I’m gonna lay you down in my bed and I’m gonna lick you some more. I want to eat your pussy all night, Maggie Laine. Which means that when I get inside you, you’re gonna be nice and wet and open for me.”
It had never been more clear that this was not Bryce. Bryce would never.
“You good?” he asked, pulling back to look into my eyes.
I took a ragged breath. “So good.”
He pulled away just enough to reach for the hem of his shirt, then he pulled it over his head and tossed it on the floor.
Okay…yes, he worked out. He was broad-shouldered, perfectly built, with a dusting of silver hair on his chest. His muscles twitched, and I followed the trail of them down to his belt buckle, where he had that—I’d never seen it in real life—that V of muscle like an arrow straight down to his—
“You wanna take off your clothes for me, Maggie?” he asked.
“Yes,” I said, so fast it surprised even me.
“Come on, then.”
He held my hand as I stood up…went for my pants first, like a weirdo, because I was suddenly desperate for him to touch me.
I hadn’t been wearing underwear when I walked in—not because I was trying to be sexy or anything, I hadn’t been sexy a day in my life—but because I’d been too exhausted and shocked to bother.
The sweats slid off and he put them right back on the stool, giving me a soft place to land.
Only then did he drop to his knees.
“Lean back,” he instructed.
I did.
Then—
“Oh god,” I breathed.
His hands landed on my thighs and his tongue went right to my clit, no teasing. He dragged it over me, then clamped his warm mouth over my whole pussy and did it again.
I arched back against the bar. I was wearing this stupid oversized t-shirt that had belonged to Bryce.
Nash was doing things to me that Bryce had never, ever done.
“That’s my girl,” Nash growled against my pussy. “You’re already close, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” I gasped. “Yes—”
“You can come for me,” he said. “Not gonna judge you.” His tongue lapped at me a few times, sucking every so often, the heat and the wet and the…oh gosh— “Come on, Maggie. Come on my face, sunshine.”
It was so stupid, but I think it was the nickname that did it.
That first orgasm came so swift and so hard that it made my vision go white at the edges, thighs clamping around his head, one hand scrabbling for the bar behind me and the other fisting in his salt-and-pepper hair. He didn’t stop—just worked me through it, every wave, every aftershock.
Then he kept not stopping.
This is where Bryce would have stopped. Where he would have made it clear he’d done his job, and now it was time for me to do mine.
Nash, though? It wasn’t even close.
I could feel another orgasm building. Nash’s tongue pressed against my opening, slipped inside me just barely, just enough for me to clench around him and feel that pressure. I rocked my hips, the barstool scuffing against the floor.
“Close again,” he said, his voice rough with pleasure. “Fuck yeah…come on, Maggie. Come on. Give it to me.”
Again. Again, somehow, and I’d never come this many times in what…minutes? Seconds?
“You taste so fucking good,” he was saying. “Fuck…fuck, you taste so fucking good.”
Another first. Bryce had always been grossed out.
So I clutched his hair, pulled his face in, and just…started to rock against him. Started to chase it. Gave him what he was asking for, without shame, without even a shred of doubt or hesitation. “I wanna come for you,” I exhaled, moaned. “I want you inside me—”
He raised his head, face flushed, lips glistening with my arousal…and he grinned.
“You want me to take you upstairs, sunshine?”
“Yes,” I nodded fast.
Then he just—he reached out and he picked me up.
I was feral for him, looping my arms around his neck, tasting him for the first time as I dragged my tongue across his pulse. Never, ever. This wasn’t me. I didn’t do things like this, I didn’t lose control, but now…I wanted him. I wanted him more than I’d ever wanted anyone, anything.
We climbed just a few stairs, I guess into the little house that sat next to the bar.
More of an apartment, really—tiny, cozy, one of those old bungalows you sometimes saw in old towns.
There were kids’ toys on the floor, a train track with a barbie doll thrown haphazardly in with dinosaurs and train cars.
We moved through the living room into one of the bedrooms.
Nash kicked the door shut behind us.
It felt like I hit the bed and started yanking my shirt off in one fluid motion, like I never stopped moving. No waiting. I didn’t want to wait. I didn’t want to think. I just wanted him now, here, inside—
And Nash…it was like he’d done this a thousand times—and maybe he had. He reached down and unbuckled his belt, pulled his zipper down, and his cock—he pulled his cock out so fast, and it was hard, and oh my god, I wanted to—
I crawled forward on his bed and reached for him.
He didn’t stop me.
His cock was in my mouth.
I moaned around him, stroking him, tasting him. He was bigger than Bryce—of course he was. He put his hand on my head and dragged his fingers through my hair, barely thrusting his hips.
“Fuck…fuck, sunshine. Just like that.”
It was so different, so unlike anything I knew.
Bryce was the only guy I’d ever had sex with, he was virtually the only guy I’d ever even kissed.
He’d been inexperienced; Nash was anything but.
He rolled his hips and I took him deeper, wanting to show him I could do this too, insecure in that I wanted to be good for him.
“You’re being so good for me, baby,” he purred. The praise lit me up from the inside out, made me warm, made me take him deeper. “Oh shit…yeah, just like that. Look at you taking my cock so well.”
I really was. I was having The Maggie Effect on him, I hoped. I wanted to show him that, even if he’d had a lot of women, I was going to be the best.
It was important to me to be the best…and he made me feel like the best.
“Gonna come down your throat if you keep up like that,” he growled. “You want that?”
Maybe I did. I’d never done that either. I looked up at him through my lashes, stroking him, taking him deeper—
That’s when he pulled me up by my arms.
That’s when he kissed me.
It was our first kiss…after I’d already had my mouth on him, his on me. Filthy and wonderful and perfect. He kissed me hard, tilting my head, guiding me down to the bed and onto my back. One hand was still on me as he knelt between my legs, the other hand reaching for his back pocket.
He had a condom in his pocket.
Who did that?
And who opened it with their teeth?
Because that’s what he was doing—pulling a condom out, gripping it with his teeth, opening it. He placed one big hand over my breast, twirling his fingers around my nipple as he unrolled the condom with the other, sheathing himself, stroking once…
“You ready for this cock, sunshine?” he asked.
I arched into his touch, loving how it felt when he played with me. “Yes.”
“Need one more yes from you.”
“Yes, please.”
Only then did he pull my hips up so they were raised off the bed, making me wrap my legs around him…and only then did he press the tip of his cock against my entrance and thrust inside.
I couldn’t speak. Could barely even moan. I just let out this broken string of syllables and sounds, clawing at the sheets.
He held still.
Completely, maddeningly still, buried inside me, one hand gripping my hip and the other braced on the mattress, looking down at me with those dark eyes while I tried to remember how to breathe.
“Nash—”
“Give yourself a second,” he said.
“But I don’t want a second.”
He laughed low in his throat, this rough, rumbly sound that made me clench around him. “Fuck…let me look at you. Let me tell you what I see.”
My breath hitched as he just slightly thrust—just to get deeper, just to hold me closer, tighter.
“I see a beautiful woman who’s been taken for granted.”
He pulled out just to thrust in again.
“A fucking gorgeous woman who should get whatever she asks for and had a douchebag ex who didn’t deserve her.”
Thrust again. I moaned, sobbed maybe.
“A perfect woman who…” —thrust— “…needs to be fucked…” —thrust— “…licked…” —thrust— “…and filled all night and treated like a goddamn queen.”
I was going to cry. Not sad crying, not breakup crying. Just…no one had ever talked to me like that, not once. Dirty and perfect.
“Nash—” His name came out garbled and desperate.
“I got you, baby,” he said. “Gonna give you everything you deserve.”