Chapter Sixteen
SIXTEEN
Maggie buzzed with anticipation as their driver pulled up in front of the condo that night.
Ever since she’d said she wanted to fuck him, she and Blake had continued their teasing interplay, even returning to the dance floor a few more times.
But neither of them made any more visits to the open bar.
Every time Blake had been pulled away to make small talk with another donor—and there were many, so it was probably for the best that they’d stayed—he returned to her moments later, or brought her over to introduce her.
Each time, it was “Marguerite St. Claire, my girlfriend,” the line seeming to come more easily to him as the evening wore on.
But the evening had ended, and they climbed the stairs to the condo in the kind of thick anticipation Maggie hadn’t felt before sex in years.
Anticipation along with a touch of anxiety.
The Pimpernel still loomed at the back of her consciousness, and she tried to forget about her betrayal.
“We don’t have to do this, actually,” she said when Blake closed the door behind them, the words out of her mouth before she could snatch them back in.
Blake looked at her over his shoulder. “I know we don’t have to. But don’t you want to?”
“Yes, but I mean, if you didn’t want to …”
“Shh.” He stepped up to her and took her face between his hands. She’d expected doubts, or uncertainty, but all she saw was passion. “I want to.” And finally, finally, he kissed her.
Maggie hadn’t been sure what to expect, but she should have known that Blake, who was good at everything, was also an incredible kisser.
His mouth moved over hers, casual and confident and steady, coaxing her lips open and brushing his tongue across hers.
Oh, fuck, she had needed this. Heat raced through her body, all her nerves on fire, tuning in to this man, this moment, and the intensity of this kiss.
She caught her breath and kissed back, tangling her hands in his hair, running her fingers through the soft strands like she’d wanted to do all night.
God, she hadn’t realized how much she wanted to touch him.
“I could kiss you forever,” he said against her mouth, then paused, smiling. “Mmm. Actually, no, probably not.” Before she could protest, he caught her earlobe between his lips, making her knees go weak. “At least, not your mouth.”
“Christ.” She swore, making him chuckle again.
Who was this guy? This was a whole different side of Blake.
Between his confident presentation and schmoozing at the fundraiser and this talented, wicked mouth, she was having a hard time reconciling this man in her arms with the one who kept a cataloged binder of houseplants and wrote to-do lists for fun.
“Stop overthinking,” he said into her ear, kissing her jaw and nipping lightly at the skin.
Maggie exhaled as his teeth worked down to her collarbone, her words coming out shaky. “What—what makes you think I’m overthinking?”
“I can just tell.” He sucked a kiss against her collarbone, smiling against her skin when her hips jerked against his. “That’s better.”
Maggie laughed despite herself. “Are we going to do this on the living room floor, or are you coming to bed with me?”
“Your bed or mine?” He smiled. “They’re equidistant.”
“I can’t believe you’re using equidistant while seducing me.” She shook her head.
“I’m seducing you? You started all of this.
” He slid his hands down the bare skin of her back and slotted her against him, his hard cock pressed into her lower belly.
“Wearing this dress, flirting with me.” He slid his hands lower, dipping beneath the gathered fabric of her dress until he could palm the curves of her ass.
“Are you wearing anything under this at all?”
“Barely.” She grinned. “Want to see?”
He returned her smile. “You have no idea.”
She dragged him toward her room. “Your room, then,” he said.
She tugged him inside and took a moment to pull the blinds closed, flicking on the desk lamp. “I have condoms. Always, um … prepared and all that.” She couldn’t deny the bubble of nerves, or the fear that this was a horrible mistake.
And of course, he read the subtle expression change on her face. “Hey.” He stepped in and kissed her once more, like it was natural, like he’d done it a million times before. “We don’t have to.”
“I want to.” She swallowed, her throat bobbing. “It’s just been … a while.”
“But you have condoms.”
“And an IUD,” Maggie added, then shrugged. “And a full gamut of tests after each new partner. Can’t be too careful.”
Blake smiled. “Same. For the testing, I mean.”
“I like to be ready.” Maggie licked her lips. “I’m hopeful.”
Blake leaned in to kiss her. “Don’t worry. We can stop anytime.”
She looked at this man, beautiful in the soft amber light of her lamp, and her heart went out to him.
He was gentle and good and kind, and he deserved good things.
And she did want him. But how could she tell him that she also wanted him to pin her down and do wicked things to her?
How could she tell him that the hardest she’d come was when a stranger told her to punish her clit with a ruler and beg him for release?
In this gentle sweetness between them, the complexity of her feelings rose like a wall that she tried to push down.
What was it the Pimpernel had said? It can just be fun, he’d said. It doesn’t have to be the end of the world.
She didn’t want to think about the Pimpernel right now.
Stepping forward with determination, she tugged his bowtie loose. “You’re overdressed.”
“Very.” He grinned and allowed her to remove his tie, then his tuxedo jacket and vest, which he carefully laid on the chair. “It’s a rental.”
Maggie had to smile. “Good thing I didn’t fuck you in the coat room at the benefit,” she said. “You’d never get your deposit back.”
Blake laughed. Her fingers worked the tiny buttons down the front of his shirt, focused on the movement, then on the thin white shirt, slowly revealed as each button came free. “Too many layers.”
“You’re making quick work of them.” His voice sounded too composed. He was too composed, like this wasn’t affecting him at all, and Maggie wanted to shake him up. She pressed a palm against his erection, through his slacks.
“Oh!” It was a gasp more than a word, his eyes going wide, and Maggie wrapped her hand around his length. Fuck, she’d done this to unsettle him, but it filled her with desire as well. He was still mostly dressed, and she wanted to take him apart.
“Cufflinks.” She released him to unfasten his cufflinks and set them on her nightstand.
He put his glasses next to them. Then he finally slipped his tuxedo shirt off, followed by his undershirt, and stopped to remove his shoes and socks.
Each new inch of skin that he revealed cost her more of her capacity for logical thought.
When he was down to only his slacks, he brushed her eager hands away. “Now you.” He turned her around and pressed his lips to the nape of her neck. “How do I get you out of this dress?”
“Over my head.” She closed her eyes, heartbeat pounding as he pressed open-mouthed kisses down her spine. He got as far as the middle of her back before she added, “Please,” and was rewarded by a smile she could feel curving against her skin.
He gathered the dress at her hips, inching the silky material upward to reveal first her calves, then her legs, then her hips and the curve of her ass.
He kept going until he was able to lift it completely off.
Still behind her, he took a shaky breath and swore for only the second time she’d ever heard. “Fuck, you’re beautiful.”
Maggie turned to face him, wearing only the black lace underwear, still in her heels. He looked her up and down, his eyes wide. “I can’t believe this is all you were wearing all night under that dress. God, I really would have taken you in that coat closet.”
He drew her against him by the hips, his mouth drifting along her jaw to her ear, sucking gently at the tender skin beneath. Her pulse thrummed with anticipation, and he cupped her breasts and rolled her nipples between his fingers, eliciting her gasp. “Beautiful,” he murmured.
“For fuck’s sake.” She let her head loll back, his kisses and his touch making her burn up from the inside out.
She grabbed him by the back of the head and pulled his lips back up to hers, kissing him open-mouthed, needing him to feel every ounce of her desperation.
Then she climbed onto the bed. She paused, suddenly sheepish.
“Shoes.” She hadn’t realized she was still wearing her heels, strappy and well-fastened up around her ankles.
“I’ve got them.” He walked to the end of the bed and lifted one foot, pressing a kiss to her ankle before unfastening the strap.
It was intimate enough to take her breath away.
He let the foot drop and repeated the gesture, then removed his slacks and set them on the chair with the rest of his tuxedo.
“Boxer briefs,” she said aloud without conscious thought, and he looked down at himself before meeting her gaze with a grin.
“Is that a problem? Because I was planning to take them off.”
Maggie laughed. “Not a problem. Just observing.” She tilted her head to get a better look at him where he stood next to the bed, eyeing the outline of his substantial erection. “Definitely observing.”
Blake gave her another cheeky smile. He was surprisingly relaxed in bed. If she’d anticipated this, she might have slept with him sooner. He climbed up onto the mattress with her, and before she could make some kind of joke, he rolled her onto her back and kissed her.