by Susan Crosby
“Now,” she whispered when he slanted their mouths differently. “Oh, I need you, Diego. I need you so much.”
His expression was fierce, yet his hands wondrously gentle as they stroked her flesh, feathering her throat, curving around and under her breasts to lift them high as he watched, then gliding along her abdomen and beyond, teasing with fingertips soft as velvet. He eased her backward until she came up against the side of the bed. Reaching behind her he sent the bedcovers sailing and laid her on the cool sheet, blanketing her with his body, sliding his hands under her to shift her up farther, then settling against her.
He groaned as their bodies touched, arched up as if the contact alone would send him over the edge.
He whispered her name and tears welled in her eyes at the gentleness and wonder and power that rang in the one word. Before she could wrap her legs around him, he slid down her, scraping his unshaven jaw against her, trailing his open mouth along her skin, drawing tiny bumps of reaction. When he took a pebbled nipple deep in his mouth and suckled her, she curved her arms over his head, holding him there, arching higher to beg without words for more, much more. He tasted the other tight crest, lapped at her, bit lightly, suckled harder, whispered words in a language she couldn’t understand. Only the tone was universal. He rose above her, almost a stranger to her as the hard edge of passion consumed him and transferred to her.
His gaze never wavering from hers, he slid a hand to her knee and pulled her leg over his hip, holding her still. She closed her eyes as the hot, slick tip of him found its warm welcome.
“Mírame, Magnolia.” The lyrical words filled her soul with music. “Look at me.”
She forced her eyes open and he filled her, fully, beautifully, perfectly, the power and strength of him lighting a fire that flared hot and fast, burning toward an explosion that expanded with the fuel of motion and sound and wishes granted. The power of it shocked her, and because he was watching her so closely, he saw.
“It’s all right.”
His voice wasn’t soothing, but strained, as if convincing himself as well, inciting her further. A fireball coiled and sizzled deep within her.
“Let it happen, novia.”
“Diego...”
“I know.”
And even though her eyes were open, she was blind to everything, the heat and intensity shimmering so white that she couldn’t even see him, only knew when he was consumed by the same inferno.
J.D. felt her whole body soften beneath him. He didn’t want to look at her, didn’t want to see her expression in the aftermath, now stark with sunlight that illuminated the room, lighting truths and deceits. He had to say something to her. He had no idea what.
Regret battled contentment. He’d never broken his word before. And because he hadn’t been able to control his need, he’d set her up to be hurt even further, to have her hate him now instead of later. All the happiness he’d seen grow in her was destined to die.
When she fidgeted he rolled to his side, bringing her with him, tucking her close so that she couldn’t look at him. He swept a hand down her back, tracing the smooth, silky curves, finally resting on the taut, damp flesh of her rear.
“Cold?” he asked.
She nuzzled his chest and forced a leg between his. “No way.”
He could swear she purred.
Instinct told him she wouldn’t respond well to an apology from him. The moment had been unplanned and uncontrollable, but it had happened. Any attempt at excusing it would be cowardly and cruel.
“That was amazing,” she said on a sigh. drawing tiny circles on his stomach with her fingernails, inching lower.
He sucked in a breath. “Yes.”
She angled her shoulder and pushed against him so that he rolled onto his back. In a fluid movement she straddled his thighs.
She tucked her hair behind her ears, revealing a face that was softly flushed and shimmering with fresh confidence. She was naked, except for his necklace. Dios. Now what? She expected more from him. More would be a conscious choice. More would be unforgivable.
More would be paradise.
“We’re so different,” she said, stroking him as his need for her grew at her curious touch.
He reached for her.
“Not yet,” she said. “I love to watch your body change like this. Everything gets harder. Your thighs, your stomach, your hands, even your jaw. Your whole body gets aroused, doesn’t it? I didn’t realize.”
Ah, Magnolia, how innocent you are. How temptingly open. How beautifully made. “Do you think you stay soft, novia? You’re the same.”
“Am I?”
Placing a hand on each shoulder, he pulled her toward him, until he could take a taut nipple in his mouth. “Hard now. Even harder in a minute,” he said, proving his point as he drew a soft moan from her. He opened his mouth to hers as she shifted to kiss him with a purity of intention that was frightening. Everything was so simple to her.
She rose slightly to let him position himself beneath her, then she released a long sound of pleasure as she sank onto him.
“You fill me so tightly, so completely,” she said, her hands pressing the sides of his head, her thumbs tracing his cheekbones. “We were made for each other.”
He didn’t know what to say to her, so he helped her sit up and use her thigh muscles to ride him, gently at first, then faster and more powerfully. He pressed a thumb to the hot core of her and stroked the tiny nub lightly.
“You get hard here, as well, novia.”
She arched back, stretching her arms behind her to rest her hands on his thighs. With his eyes he followed the sway of her breasts, the lift of her pelvis, the fascinating motion of her thigh muscles contracting, relaxing, contracting, relaxing. He brought his other hand into play and sent her over the top, relishing the sounds that filtered from her. Then just as she relaxed forward, he rolled her over and pushed home, hard and rhythmically and relentlessly, taking her up again. He swallowed her words with his demanding mouth, their tongues mating as slickly as their bodies, their driving rhythm creating a force so powerful, they almost generated sparks.
“Diego,” she moaned as the full impact carried her to the edge and held her there. She clawed him and he welcomed the pressure.
“Magnolia,” he groaned back, poised on the same brink but waiting.
A few more thrusts, a few more arching lifts, then flight. Finally, a soft landing and sleep.
The jangle of the telephone sliced into his dream. No, it wasn’t a dream, after all. She was there with him. He felt her reach across him, pick up the phone and say hello.
“Just a minute, please.” She passed him the phone.
“Hello?”
“It’s Novacek. Since she answered the phone, I assume everything’s all right.”
J.D. glanced her way. “Yes. What happened?”
“I followed her to class, then went to get some coffee. I was there when class was supposed to be dismissed. She was already gone.”
“Where are you?”
“Across the street.”
“I want to talk with you.”
“I’ve got to get over to the Misty Nights Lingerie warehouse.”
He watched Magnolia sit up beside him, enjoyed the beauty of the pale, slender back revealed to the tempting curve of her bottom. “Uh...” He could hardly think. “Uh, why?”
“Didn’t you hear? Somebody trashed the place.”
“What?” He sat straight up. “When?”
“Dumag the night.”
“I’m going over there.” He looked at Magnolia as she turned to face him. The quilt had pulled away when he moved. He swallowed. “I need you to stay where you are,” he said into the phone.
Content, Maggie watched him watch her. Everything had changed. Her life had veered down a whole new path. She was different because of loving him. And different from having shared the deepest intimacy possible between a man and woman. He had to feel it, too.
She smiled and reached for
him as he hung up the phone.
“Misty’s warehouse was trashed.” He threw the covers aside. “I need to see how she is doing.”
“Me, too.” The mood shattered, she had thoughts now only for her friend.
He stopped her with a hand on her shoulder as she followed the trail of her clothing. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
She straightened, her panties in one hand, jeans in the other. His eyes didn’t stray from hers. “Why not?”
“Too many people—”
“What are you, the invisible man? If you can go, I can go.” What was going on? She thought they’d just reached accord in their marriage and here he was, being Mr. Macho again. “Misty’s my friend. I want to help.”
He turned from her. She watched him pull open a dresser drawer, remove gray cotton briefs and step into them.
“You’re right, of course,” he said.
She dressed as he did, almost garment for garment, so that they were ready at the same time. “I don’t understand how you and Misty got to be so close,” she said tentatively as they went out the front door and down the stairs.
“She’s easy to know. Easy to like.”
“Oh, she’s one of the most down-to-earth people I know. But what’s her connection with you?”
J.D. sent a hand signal Novacek’s way as she climbed into the car. He settled behind the wheel. “There aren’t many people I call friend, Magnolia, but Misty’s one of them.”
“What about me?”
He waited until they reached a red light, then he turned toward her. Her eyes were full of anticipation. What could he say to her? Friendship was the least of what he felt. And after the lovemaking—
“What about me?” she repeated even more softly.
He traced her face with his fingertips, not speaking. A car honked, alerting him that the light had turned green. He used it as an excuse not to answer.
Thirty percent of Misty’s spring line had been destroyed before the police could respond to the silent alarm. J.D. knew, as did Misty, that it was retribution for her interfering on New Year’s Eve.
“My insurance will cover the losses,” Misty said as they huddled in the manager’s office, both of them watching Maggie through a plate-glass window as she peered in box after box, staring at the garments drenched in black dye. “But the delays in getting the goods to the stores will be devastating. If I can’t fill the orders, the results will show up next season in reduced orders. A smart businessman like Brendan understands that.”
“We’ll get him, Misty. I promise you.”
“Duncan said the same thing. Still, it hurts. I’ve worked for so long to get to this point I was just getting comfortable enough to take some time off.” She sighed. “Well, back to the sewing machines. Thanks for checking on me.”
“I’m glad the judge was with you.”
“It was kind of nice sharing the burden.” She smiled as Maggie looked up and made a sad face their way. “Have you told her about Brendan yet?”
“Only a little.”
“What are you waiting for?”
“The right time.”
She patted his arm. “One thing I’ve learned, J.D. The right time doesn’t ever come on its own. The right time is always a choice you make.”
J.D. thought about Misty’s words as he dropped Magnolia off at home, much against her wishes. He knew there was unfinished business between them. He knew he was stalling. He was tired of fighting his feelings, especially after this morning. But he knew he had to continue to do so.
“I’m in a hell of a mess,” J.D. said as he grabbed the window frame in his father’s den and stared at the foliage outside. “How did this happen? I thought I had everything under control.”
“You’re human, Jimmy.”
He turned and crossed his arms. “That’s it? That’s all the fatherly advice I get? I didn’t use protection, Dad. What happens if... Dios. I can’t believe it didn’t even occur to me.”
“Maybe she’s on the Pill.”
“If she is, she doesn’t keep them in the bathroom or beside her bed. What she does keep in the table beside my bed, as I discovered the first night, are a couple of condoms. That should tell you something.”
“Since I sincerely doubt she left them there in case you brought another woman home,” his father said, humor lacing his words, “it tells me she’s prepared.”
“It tells me it’s her method of birth control.” J.D. ran his hands through his hair. “If she’s pregnant, I won’t let her go. I will be a father to that child.”
“Is pregnancy your only fear, son?”
“Of course. What else?”
His father leveled a look at him. “Life works out as it’s supposed to. I finally learned that. I hope you will learn from my experience, son, and accept what you cannot change. Perhaps this is a sign you should tell her the truth.”
“If I tell her the truth, she’ll start looking over her shoulder,” J.D. said, exasperated. “She’ll clue Hastings into her feelings the first time she sees him, even though she would believe she’s hiding it well. If I tell her the truth, she’ll fear him a hundred times more than she does now. He’ll know it, and he’ll prey on it. My only chance to keep her safe is to keep her ignorant.”
“I think you don’t give her enough credit, Jimmy.” He held up a hand. “I also admit you know her well and I don’t. But perhaps you should force her to leave town.”
“He has threatened to kill her. Because of me, her life is in danger, and I can’t show any fear. Neither can she. We’re so close now to nailing him. So close. If I have her hidden away, he’d take that as weakness on my part. I’d be dead.”
“Damned if you do. Damned if you don’t.”
“And whatever the consequences, I’ll have to live with them. Still, I know in my heart she’s safer with me.”
Maggie couldn’t wait to get home. She breezed through the night at work, anxious to be alone with her husband.
Her husband. Finally she could say the words honestly. She turned toward him as he pulled into the garage, traced his profile with her eyes, wondered at his silence. She smiled as she pictured the evening ahead. She would wear the red teddy Misty had given her for her birthday and the spicy perfume he’d commented on twice.
Candles waited to be lit; chilled champagne waited to be savored.
This would be their wedding night. Tonight she would tell him she loved him.
His hand rested at the small of her back as they climbed the stairs. Anticipation simmered in her, warm, gentle bubbles of expectation. The rightness of what they’d shared made her sigh.
“Tired?” he asked as he shut the door and entered the security code.
“No.” She turned and smiled. “In fact, I think I’ll take a quick shower. Care to join me?”
J.D. walked past her. The hopeful look in her eyes stoked the fire of guilt already burning his stomach. He dreaded seeing that brilliant light of happiness dim inside her.
He looked at the answering machine. No messages.
“Diego?”
Face her. Don’t be a coward. He turned around. “What?”
“What’s wrong?”
He stared at her a minute longer. “Let’s sit down.”
She blinked, surprised. Hesitance rang in her voice. “I don’t think I want to. Just tell me.”
“What happened today? Why did you come home so early?”
“My last class was canceled and a friend offered to drop me off. I called before I left campus so that you wouldn’t bother coming.”
“I was preoccupied this morning. I guess I forgot to check the machine.”
“I knew you’d be home to shower after you ran, so I figured you’d get my message. I also...”
“What?”
She looked away from him, uncomfortable. “There was a man.”
“What man? What did he do?”
The ferocity in his voice startled her. She tried to soothe him. “At school for the past
couple of days, I’ve noticed this man hanging around. He hasn’t spoken to me, but he’s watching. I needed to get away from campus before he caught up with me again. If I’d kept trying your various phone numbers, he might have seen me.”
Diego rubbed a hand across his face. She couldn’t decipher his expression.
“And don’t you dare offer to walk me to class from now on. I’ve taken self-defense classes. I can protect myself.”
“All right, Magnolia.”
His acquiescence surprised her. He wasn’t reacting the way she expected him to.
“Why did you take so long to turn off the security alarm?” he asked.
“I’ve rarely had to set it since we got married. I blanked out for a minute. I was just going to open the bathroom door a crack and tell you it was me. I didn’t expect—Well, I certainly didn’t realize I’d have a gun in my face. Do you have a license for that?”
“A permit. Of course I do.” He looked straight at her. “What happened today was a mistake.”
She folded her arms across her stomach, warding off his words. “It was beautiful.”
“But a mistake nonetheless.”
“For you, maybe. Not for me.”
He ran his hands through his hair. “I won’t excuse it. I was responsible. It was all my fault.”
“Damn right it was.” She tossed her head, not giving him any quarter. “I’d intentionally kept my distance. I didn’t do anything to tease you, or force you.”
“I didn’t think—”
“That’s garbage, Diego. The first time—maybe, maybe I could believe that. The tension between us was high. Something set you off. I could grant you the heat-of-the-moment excuse for the first time. But you made love to me a second time. That’s calculated. You had plenty of time to think.”
