WakingMaggie (4 page)

Wresting her skirt over her hips, she positioned herself
over his thick cock. He rolled on a condom and then filled her with one upward
thrust. She stilled. Once her body had relaxed, she began to ride him at a
slow, even pace, sliding from tip to base. He gripped her thighs, using the
leverage to tilt his hips upward to meet her downward strokes. She hung on to
his shoulders and deepened the bend of her knees, driving him farther into her.
Lost in the moment, she closed her eyes, the undulations of her body keeping
time with his.

He rolled up to a sitting position, his hand brushing her
hair from her eyes, his gaze moving over her face as gentle as a summer breeze.
It’d been so long… And even when she had a sex life with Nate, he’d never made
her feel like this. A warm glow overtook her, joy radiating from the inside
out. With small nips, he brushed his lips over hers, his tongue licking at
hers.

“Come for me, Maggie,” he whispered. She gently caught his
bottom lip with her teeth then released it. Her pussy gripped his cock.

A hand to her chest, he tilted her back just a little,
changing the angle at which he penetrated her. A tremor passed through her, a
shock wave of pleasure. She cried out, a catch in her voice.

“Oh that’s it, isn’t it?” The corner of his mouth twitched
as he pushed his cock deeper into her wet sheath.

Blood roaring in her ears, she rubbed her clit against his
pelvis with every thrust. Her lower abdomen grew tight and muscles inside her
contracted around his shaft. Beginning as searing heat, an orgasm built inside
her, turning to pulses of ecstasy. More powerful tremors shook her and she
threw back her head, panting for air. Her chest heaved against his, but once
the climax receded, her breathing gradually slowed.

Calvin ran his hands up her back and she opened her eyes to
take in his handsome face. He flexed his abdomen and drew himself up into a
seated position, then wrapped her legs around him. Cradling her with one arm,
he rolled her beneath him, trading positions. His wide shoulders cast a shadow
over her and she noted—not for the first time—what a big man he was.

He covered her mouth with his and lavished her with kisses,
driving himself into her with smooth, solid strokes. She hung on to his
buttocks, spasms of pleasure passing from his body into hers.

With a sharp inhalation, he broke away from the extended
kiss, his breath ragged. He shook and arched his back, chest and abs tight as
he came. Her gaze drank in the mass of rippling musculature.
Gorgeous.
So goddamn gorgeous and a tender lover as well. If this were a dream, she
prayed she’d never wake up.

Once he exhaled and allowed his body to go slack, she pulled
him against her. He kissed the corners of her mouth, grazed his lips across the
tip of her nose and planted whispers of kisses on her cheeks.

He broke into a lazy smile. “Wow.”

“Mmm, yeah. I agree.” She wiggled her hips.

Gently he withdrew from her, disposed of the condom and
slumped onto the bed next to her. Settling his head against her shoulder, he
stroked her hair.

Neither of them spoke, the darkness filled only with ragged
breathing and the occasional sigh. She threaded her fingers through his silky
hair, now a bit damp with sweat, and shifted so her head was on his chest. With
the back of one hand, he traced a path down her arm to her thigh and back up
again. He repeated the caress over and over.

Finally Calvin said, “You never answered my question.”

“What question?”

“Why didn’t you change your name if you hate it so much?”

She breathed in the scent of his skin and pressed her face against
his firm pectoral muscle. “I don’t know. When Nate and I split a few years
ago…it was like my whole world fell apart. It was about the same time my kids
left for college. So much was changing. I didn’t want to change who I’d been
the last twenty-six years too.”

“A name isn’t who you are.”

“Says the man who will never have to assume or
un
-assume
someone’s name.”

“Point taken.”

He fell silent again and she wondered if she’d offended him.
Sliding a hand up the side of his torso, she noted goose bumps there and asked,
“Are you chilly? I can turn on the fireplace.”

“I slept with the restaurant owner’s daughter,” he blurted
out.

“What?”

“Earlier. You asked me why I got fired. I-I slept with the
restaurant owner’s daughter.”

“Ohhh.” She curled the hand that’d she’d been stroking him
with in toward her chest. “Why are you telling me this now?”

“I was just thinking about it and I felt bad I didn’t tell
you earlier. You’ve been open and honest with me… Oh, I don’t know.”

“You really need to work on your postcoital banter.”

“I’m sorry.”

Picturing him in a passionate embrace with another woman,
her body stiffened. “You didn’t sleep with her tonight, did you?”

“No.
No.
It was weeks ago. I don’t know how he found
out.”

“Was it supposed to be a secret? Please tell me she’s over
eighteen.”

“Of course. She’s twenty-four.”

Her mouth ran dry and she swallowed hard.

“Did you break the girl’s heart?” she asked as nonchalantly
as possible.

“No, she stopped calling me. Said she doesn’t date
musicians.”

“Did you knock her up or give her a social disease?”

“
No.
”

“Then I don’t see the problem.”

“Me neither.” He looked down at her, chagrin written on his
face. “Apparently Mr. Jiminez doesn’t agree with us.”

Maggie rolled over onto her side to face the wall. Clearly
oblivious to her feelings, he snuggled up behind her. Tears collected in the
corner of her eyes but she blinked them away.

After a couple of minutes, he asked, “Are you asleep?”

She didn’t answer. Maybe he’d think she’d drifted off.

Propped up on one elbow, he said, “I know you aren’t asleep.
I can see your eyes are open.”

“Maybe I sleep with my eyes open.”

“Maggie.”

“I’m fine, let it go.”

“Are you mad at me?”

“No.”

“You’re mad at me.”

Of all the young men she’d come across tonight, she had to
bring home the most infuriating and obtuse of the bunch. Yes, she was angry.
She yanked the pillow from under her head and whacked him with it.

“Yes—”
Whack.
“I’m mad.”
Whack, whack.

He snatched the pillow from her. “Why are you hitting me?”

“Because I hate you.”

“What?”

She sat up, clutching the sheet around her. “We were having
a nice time. A really nice time, and then you had to go and ruin it. Now all I
can think about is Mr. Jiminez’s daughter and her perfect twenty-four-year-old
body. And—and you being all sad because Little Miss Perfect broke things off
with you so you got stuck with the old lady instead. That’s why I hate you.”

He held his hands out in front of him. “What in the world
are you talking about?”

“You’re a jerk. Just like Frank, just like my ex-husband.
You’re a jerk.” She let out a sob. “And I really liked you.”

“Maggie.” He stroked her face tentatively but she turned
away. “
Maggie.
”

Stewing in embarrassment—as much from her outburst as
anything else—she tried to muster the courage to ask him to leave. Truth was
she didn’t want him to leave, but he probably would anyway now that she’d gone
all crazy-cat-lady on him. Her throat tightened and her cheeks burned. Was she
even really angry with him or was he just catching the brunt of past
humiliation?

“Maybe you should go,” she murmured.

With more tenderness than she thought she deserved, he
wrapped his arms around her. “I don’t want to leave.”

She didn’t reply, but she didn’t pull away from him either.

He went on, “It makes me sad that you think of yourself as
someone I got stuck with. As someone anyone could get stuck with.” He kissed
her neck. “You know I was watching you all night.”

“Don’t—”

“Shh.” He put a gentle finger to her lips. “You had your
say, now it’s my turn.

“I was watching you all night. You walked in with your coat
buttoned up to your neck and your little purse slung over one arm. You had a
red flower in your hair and you looked…you looked nervous, but so pretty at the
same time. And right before you sat at the bar, you unbuttoned your coat. You
stole my heart in your white dress and I’m sorry I ruined it.”

She huffed a sarcastic sigh. “You’ve got it totally wrong.
My dress is champagne-colored, I’d never wear white after Labor Day.”

Jostling her, he chuckled. “Whatever. You’re beautiful and I
don’t care if you’re forty…something or sixty-something.”

She yelped. “I’m not sixty-something.”

“Just shut it.” He tilted her head up and kissed her.

Laying her back onto the mattress, he slipped a hand beneath
her and worked at her bra.

“Don’t,” she said, wiggling away, but he trapped her with
his other arm.

“I want to see you. All of you, Mags.”

“I-I don’t look like a twenty-four-year-old. I’ve had two
children and gravity takes its toll. I don’t want you to be disappointed.”

“I won’t be.”

Her gaze met his and she searched his expression. Clearly he
believed what he said. Steeling herself with a deep breath, she relaxed… Well,
as much as she could relax. She let him take off her bra and slide her skirt
down her hips.

Despite her protestations and giggles, he nuzzled her pubic
area. From there, he worked his way up her hips, stopping to kiss each stretch
mark, which took a fair amount of time. He ran his mouth over her soft abdomen
and cupped a breast in his hand, dotting each nipple with a swipe of his
tongue.

“You look beautiful naked.”

She held up a foot. “What about the boots? Shouldn’t you
take them off?”

Raising an eyebrow, he grinned. “I still like the boots.”

He eased her onto her stomach, leaving a trail of feathery
kisses on the nape of her neck and her shoulders. His mouth on her back, the
heat of his breath radiated across her bare skin. She felt his lips graze her
buttocks as he licked a trail down to the back of her knee. Shivers darted
through her. Starting at the back of her other knee, he licked his way up to
the small of her back. She shivered again.

Rolling over, she pulled him to her and kissed him hard. He
slipped a hand between her legs and pushed two fingers into her. With
alternated flutters and thrusts—and patience—he inched her closer to climaxing.
Muscles deep inside her starting to contract, she gripped his biceps. An orgasm
shook her and she cried out. He held her until her body stilled, placing light
kisses along her jaw and lips, then withdrawing his fingers.

“Guess I don’t need to go down on you to make you come.” He
ran a finger under her chin.

“Guess not,” she said, curling up against him.

“Come here.” Calvin pulled her onto all fours and positioned
her in front of the dresser mirror. Rolling a condom down his shaft, he said,
“I want you to watch yourself.”

He moved behind her and pressed against her backside. Still
wet from the recent orgasm, she pushed against his cock. He slid into her up to
the base of his shaft and gripped her hips in his strong hands. Those dexterous
hands she’d watch play guitar with so much skill.

Her gaze strayed to their reflection. His face was relaxed
with enjoyment, cast down to look at her. His abs flexed with each thrust and
she pushed back to meet his forward strokes. He plunged into her as deep as he
could.

In the mirrored image, she watched him watching her and
eased upright into a position where she almost squatted on his lap. He studied
the reflection of her bare torso, moving his hands up to her breasts. His
fingers traced the pink flush that spread from her chest to her pubic hair, a
snarl on his lips. He pushed his cock even farther into her pussy in this
position.

She leaned back and rested her head on his shoulder, kissing
his neck. Sliding a hand between her legs, he massaged her clit. A tremor
passed through her. She caressed his muscular thighs, her fingertips memorizing
the sinewy texture. So much power with every thrust. She couldn’t get enough of
him. She ran her fingers as far as she could up his abdomen—all solid muscle
and silky skin. Not like Nate who’d been too thin when they’d met and too heavy
when they’d parted. No, with Calvin it was like making love with a god. Her
personal Adonis. He made her feel just as beautiful.

A low groan building in her throat, she reached behind her
and clasped his head in her arms. He brushed his lips past her ear, hands
gliding over her hips. Palms flat against her skin, he moved them up her body,
fingers straying to her nipples. He pinched them firmly and she moaned louder.
She imagined herself as his guitar, an instrument he knew inside and out. He
plucked and strummed and brought her body into tune. Oh yes, he could play her
any time he wanted.

Angling upward a little more, he pulled her ass flush with
his pelvis. The tip of his cock hit the sweet spot. A whimper on her lips, she
ground against him, her pussy growing slicker. Her sheath gripped his shaft and
she shuddered.

“Mags—” he gasped, shaking as he started to come, but he
kept up the pace, still stroking her, spurring on her own orgasm. A cry choked
her and she finally reached another climax.

They collapsed forward onto the bed, writhing together until
the last wave of ecstasy passed. She started to laugh.

“What so funny?” he asked, kissing her neck.

“I’m a little delirious.”

“I feel ya.” He exhaled and chuckled too.

Sliding out of her, he tossed the condom in the bedside
wastebasket then snuggled against her hip, intertwining his legs with hers.

“Can I stay the night?” he murmured.

She turned to face him and brushed his bangs out of his
eyes. “You can stay as long as you like.”