I blink. Did I just analyze her eye color? Why did I do that? I can’t even remember the eye color of the last girl I slept with before Maggie and I liked her. What the hell am I doing? “Well, it’s not charity. I know you’re allergic to that. It’s a bribe, so you should be fine with it.”
She looks up at me again, frowning a little this time. “A bribe to keep my mouth shut? Don’t worry. I don’t want to remember what we did in that barn let alone share it with anyone.”
Ouch.
Okay so the weird tingle I am still feeling, like residual lust or attraction or something, is definitely one-sided. Got it. I clear my throat. “I need to borrow your notes from class this morning. Accounting. I missed it.”
“I noticed,” Maggie mutters as the server calls out for the next customer, which is us.
I step up but she doesn’t, so I have to reach back and grab her wrist and tug her forward. She glances around like she’s horrified someone might see me touch her and gently pulls her wrist back. “I’ll have a non-fat iced vanilla latte and an everything bagel with cream cheese. And she will have…”
“Coffee. Black,” Maggie spits out at me.
“Coffee. Black,” I repeat to the server. “Like her heart.”
The server starts to laugh but when he realizes Maggie isn’t joining in, he quickly stifles it, rings in the order, and I pay him.
We move to the side to wait. “So can I borrow your notes. Please?”
“Yeah. I guess,” Maggie mutters and crosses her arms. She’s rocking ever so slightly at her hips, like she’s antsy or nervous or something. “I’ll print them off and give them to you tomorrow.”
“Thanks,” I say. “But can you maybe just email them to me?”
She shakes her head, no, without even thinking about it. “You want my notes, you can have them, but printed out only. When I find the time to do it. It’s called punishment for not getting your lazy ass out of bed like the rest of us.”
“I was up at the crack of dawn to go to work,” I say. “And it ran late, so that’s why I missed it.”
“You worked the farm this morning?” Maggie says, shocked.
“No. The other job,” I lower my voice an octave and watch as she makes a face like she just gargled lemon juice with a mouth full of paper cuts. “That’s a pretty judgy face for a woman who was once a client.”
“Daisy hired you, not me.”
“No you just ogled my ass while I worked,” I remind her and I can literally see her struggle to keep a blush from hitting her face. She turns away as someone calls out our order and I walk over to collect it.
“So,” I say as I hand her coffee. “Any chance we could run over to the student center and print those notes now? I’m going to need them before class tomorrow.”
“Yeah, you are. We have a quiz tomorrow,” Maggie replies and opens the door, not bothering to hold it open for me and leaves. I have to wedge my foot in it to keep it from slamming closed in my face.
“Magnolia, seriously. Please,” I say, and I’m getting annoyed—not just with how she won’t give me her damn notes but also because the windchill she’s blowing my way is brutal. “Or maybe I should just ask someone else.”
I start to break off from her and veer left as she veers right but then suddenly, she reaches out and grabs my hand. I turn to face her and she stands perfectly still and stares at me. “I said I’d give you the notes. When’s your next class?”
“In about forty-five minutes,” I reply as I take a bite out of my bagel.
“My next one is in an hour and a half,” Maggie replies and plucks the bagel from my hand. I watch as she takes a dainty bite. “So I can head home and print the notes and get them back to you before your next class.”
I watch her mouth while she chews. It’s a pretty mouth—and I know she knows how to use it…for more than just being sassy. I’ve imagined what that perfect mouth might look like wrapped around something other than a bagel. But I won’t ever find out because one and done. She said it and she clearly means business.
“Okay…” I take the bagel back and tear off a big piece, chewing out my frustration. It’s not that I like her, it’s just that it was good sex. And so now I feel like we should have done more, and done it for longer, if it was only going to happen once. She’s watching my mouth the same way I’ve been watching hers. Huh. That’s not the sign of a girl who wants nothing to do with me, is it? So I throw out an idea. “Wouldn’t it be easier if I just go with you to your place and grab the notes?”
Maggie looks at me, pauses, and then kind of lifts her shoulder and tilts her head in a one-sided shrug. “Well…yeah, I guess that could work.”
She smiles.
I smile.
We make our way off campus to her apartment sipping our coffees, eating what has now turned into a communal bagel and not speaking a word. The streets around campus are peppered with students and cars zipping by. Leaves dance their way off the trees with the slightest breeze making a blanket on the sidewalk and crunching under our feet. If we were involved, I would reach for her hand and this would be a fairly romantic fall walk. But we aren’t and it isn’t.
When we’re standing in front of the main door to her apartment building and she’s pulling out her keys I say, “Are your roommates home?”
“No. You wouldn’t be here if they were.”
“Right.” I take a step closer. The wind blows and the hem of her dress rustles against my jeans. The door swings open. “Wouldn’t want them to know you’re sleeping with the enemy.”
“Ha. Ha,” she says but her voice wobbles a little bit. Maggie steps over the threshold and starts up the long staircase to her third floor unit. “We promised that could never happen again, remember?”
“I remember.” I watch her climbs the stairs, the bottom of her skirt swinging around her toned thighs. “Problem is I remember everything else before the promise too.”
We reach the top of the staircase and she starts to unlock the door that leads into the apartment. She glances over her shoulder as she steps into the front hall and I flash her a devious grin. “Like I remember how hot it was when you went off like a firecracker, Firecracker.”
Maggie freezes. She doesn’t speak, she doesn’t turn to face me as I close the door behind us and I’m not even sure she’s breathing. “You did not just say that.”
“I did. It’s the truth and it’s all I’ve been able to think about since it happened.” I reach out and skim my fingers through her hair, lifting it off her neck. “Turn around, Maggie.”
She does as she’s told, which surprises me because I half expected her to tell me off for giving her orders. Her cheeks are rosy and her eyes are sparkling. “We said never again.”
“We lied,” I reply before I kiss her.
11
Tate
Just like the first time, half of me still expects to be slapped as soon as my lips touch hers, but once again it doesn’t happen. Instead, Maggie kisses me back sliding her tongue into my mouth without hesitation, thank God. I’ve spent every waking minute since the barn sex trying to convince myself that I am overreacting to the encounter with her. That the high levels of frustration and annoyance that Magnolia Todd causes me mixed with the crushing levels of stress I have been carrying since the farm started going tits up caused the sexual experience to feel like it was better than anything I’d ever experienced. But it’s not. It can’t be. Even now, just this kiss feels like the best thing in the world.
Her hands are already undoing my fly. I’m not having sex with her up against another wall. I want a bed this time I decide, and so I drop down a little and throw her over my shoulder. She squeals and slaps my ass. “What the hell, Tater Tot!”
Luckily, I know which bedroom is hers and once I reach it I hurl her onto the bed like a bale of hay. Another squeak escapes those pretty lips and she tries to sit up but I’m crawling on top of her before she can. My hand nudges her legs apart so I can settle between them, and as she sn
akes her hand into my hair to pull me into a kiss, my hand glides up the inside of her bare leg. Calf, knee, thigh… I keep going. She pushes her pelvis into my hand as I cup her through her underwear.
I allow one finger to snake under the elastic and find her drenched, just like last time. She sighs and arches her back but I pull my hand away and sit back on my knees, reaching behind me to pull my shirt over my head. I feel her hands go to my fly again. I try to push her back, but she’s got unreal strength for someone half my size and she stays put, managing to get my jeans and underwear down to my knees. “Maggie, I want…”
Those are the only three words I manage to say before I feel her lips against the tip of my cock and I lose the ability to speak. I think I was going to tell her that I want to take my time with her, and then I was going to push her back and kiss my way up under that little dress. But hey, this is good too.
Her hand wraps around my length and her head moves downward and suddenly her lips give way to the warm, wet heat of her mouth and tongue. If I was standing my knees would buckle, the feeling is that intense and that good. So good. She’s doing this thing with her tongue, swirling it every which way, like my dick is an ice cream cone in a heatwave and she’ll die if she lets one drop escape. Meanwhile, her plump lips make a tight suction and cause my gut to clench with pleasure every time they slide over the crown. My hands dive into that long, silky, copper hair and twist, tugging ever so slightly. Her hand clenches on my base and her tongue swirls faster and I’m about to go off like a firework on the Fourth of July. But the main event hasn’t even begun, so it would be an embarrassing waste, like a firework exploding on the third of July by mistake.
Using my hands tangled in her hair, I gently but firmly hold her still and sit back on my ankles, causing a soft, wet pop sound as my dick breaks free from her mouth. Then I guide her up to eye level.
“I wasn’t done,” Maggie says looking up at me through her lashes with that defiant look I know all too well.
I grab the hem of her dress and pull it over her head and throw it on the floor.
“Well it’s my turn,” I reply before taking her mouth in a wild kiss.
When I push her back onto the bed and lie over her again I ask, “Didn’t you learn to take turns growing up?”
But then I steal her answer by pushing my hand into her underwear again and taking away her ability to form words. Her mouth drops into the cutest little O shape, and her head falls back onto the pillow.
“You can make noise this time, Firecracker,” I whisper against her ear before biting her lobe. “No family to catch us.”
I kiss her neck and lean my body into hers, as my fingers slide in and out of her and I use the pad of my thumb to circle her clit. I stop only long enough to pull her underwear completely off and then replace my hand with my mouth.
From the first pass of my tongue, she becomes someone else. Gone is the Maggie Todd who bosses me around, fights for control, and pushes me away. This new Maggie Todd is submissive—her legs falling open as my tongue reaches her clit. And instead of pushing me away, she’s got her hands in my hair, pulling me closer. She can’t boss me around because she’s too busy moaning, which is a clear indication she’d have nothing to say anyway because I know exactly what I’m doing. I could get very used to this Maggie.
Her hands move down my back, fingernails scraping as she arches her back and then gifts me with a pant of my name. “Oh God… Tate…”
My cock swells at the sound and then the feel of her coming against my lips.
I kiss my way across her belly and up her body, pausing to give both her perky breasts some attention. As I move on to kiss her collarbone she manages to find her words. “Condom.”
I kiss her neck. “Back pocket.”
She rolls over and hangs an arm down to reach for my discarded jeans on the floor. She pulls out the condom and catches me smiling as she tears it open. “What?”
“I’m feeling victorious,” I tell her. “It’s such a turn on to watch the girl who lives to have the upper hand over me—and usually succeeds—let it all go because of my mouth.”
“It’s a really fantastic mouth when you’re not using it for speaking,” Maggie replies. Rolling toward me, she grabs my cock gently but firmly and I lie on my back and watch her roll the condom on. I’m holding my breath to keep from grunting at her touch.
I smile. She’s back to the snark so soon after her orgasm. I guess I’ll just have to give her another one. Once the condom is on, I flip her over so she’s on her stomach. I lean over her and kiss her shoulder. “Huh. You weren’t lying. Your ass isn’t freckled.”
I give it a gentle swat.
“You are a son of—” I grab her hips and pull her up to her knees before she can finish that insult.
She knows exactly what I want now and tilts her hips and arches her back—ready and eagerly waiting. I put a hand on her hip and guide myself into her. She inhales sharply, still sensitive from her orgasm, I’m sure, so I promise myself I will go slow. But I’m surrounded by slick heat, still pulsing from her release, and I grunt.
“Maggie, fuck me,” I groan and my hips snap. She huffs out a sharp breath.
“This position is all about you fucking me, Tate, not the other way around,” she replies and rolls her hips. “Now get to it.”
I grab both hips and give her what she demands. I know I won’t be able to keep this up too long. She’s too tight and too wet. I’m going to come quick and hard, so I pump harder and drop forward, blanketing her back with my chest and moving one hand to her breasts and the other to her clit. She whimpers when my fingers gently pinch her nipple and then again, louder, when my thumb rubs her clit.
Her hips start keeping rhythm with my thrusts, and when I can’t fight it anymore I groan and come, softly biting her shoulder as I do.
“Tate…” She’s said my name a million times and I’ve always wished she hadn’t. But when she moans it…hell I could hear that all day. She falls forward, facedown on the bed and I fall on top of her, my face buried in her hair, my lips kissing the nape of her neck.
We stay like that for a few minutes, naked in a tangled heap, until finally she whispers. “You’re heavy.”
I grin and roll off. She scoots, belly down, to the edge of the bed and grabs her dress. I’m suddenly very aware—and very sad—that it’s over. And now it’s starting to feel awkward as the reality of what we did—again—sets in. I clear my throat, get off the bed and grab my pants and underwear. I head into her bathroom and clean up, tossing the condom in her trash can. When I come back out to find my shirt, she’s got her bra and dress back on and she’s yanking her undies up those perfect legs. I stop and admire the view.
“Don’t do that,” she says firmly. “Don’t look at me like you’re turned on.”
“But I am.” I shrug.
She smiles, clearly happy with that, even though she doesn’t want to be. “You hate me, remember?”
“You hate me too,” I remind her as I walk over and stop directly in front of her, reaching up and gently smoothing her hair which has that just-been-fucked tousle to it. “But for some godforsaken reason you’re turned on by me too. Personality-wise we might be oil and water but sexually, we’re…”
“Goat cheese and caramelized onion?” She suggests and I frown. “What? It works really well together. You want a guaranteed mouthgasm, try it.”
“I’ll stick with the other kind of ’gasm, thanks,” I say and bend to grab my shirt off the floor. But I don’t put it on right away because I’m enjoying the way her eyes keep sweeping over my chest and torso. “Anyway, we definitely know how to push each other’s buttons sexually. I’ll be honest, I’ve never had hotter sex.”
“Me either,” Maggie admits easily, which I wasn’t expecting. She sighs. “It’s because we hate each other. We’re not trying to impress each other, we’re both just trying to get off.”
“Probably,” I reply but honestly, I’m not so sure it’s that simple. I
really wish it was though.
“Put on your shirt, Tate,” she demands.
“Why? You scared you’re going to jump my bones again?” I ask with a grin. She laughs.
“You wish.” She gives me a little shove with her hand in the center of my chest and I slap my own hand over it and keep it there. Now the awkwardness is being pushed out of the atmosphere in the room and lust is making its way back in.
Until her damn phone rings from inside her book bag. She pulls her hand away and scurries out into the hall to retrieve it. I finish getting dressed and wander out to find her standing there with a scowl on her face and the phone a couple inches from her ear because the person on the other end is yelling. It’s her grandfather. I can hear him like he’s standing in the room.
“Is this what you and that sister of yours think is good business?” he’s screaming.
“It was a gamble. Sometimes in business you have to take risks, Clyde,” Maggie replies, through gritted teeth. She wants to tell him to fuck off, but she can’t. I wish I could.
“You’re the one who wanted this fall market so bad and you’re giving up a prime weekend. Because you were too stupid to win a bet,” Clyde barks. “Another perfect example of why I should sell the farm. It would be better off in someone else’s hands. Someone with some business sense.”
“Tell him you’ll get the weekend back,” I whisper and she glares at me.
“You’re not being fair, Clyde. It was Daisy and my idea to switch from cow milk to goat and we’ve improved our profit margin. And we’ve got other expansion plans that are built around a solid business plan and you know it,” Maggie argues back. “But if you still want to sell the farm to someone instead of keeping it in the family, I’ll talk to the Adlers and see if they want to buy it.”
Blindsided: A Moo U Hockey Romance Page 13
