He kissed her, hard and long and deep. His tongue pushed into her mouth, claiming her in a frenzy of passion so strong she felt the tide of it swamp her, threaten to drown her in an overload of sensation.
From the top of her head to the tips of her toes, Maggie felt a rush of heat that was incredible. As if she were literally on fire, she felt her skin burn, her blood boil and her heart thunder in her chest. While his mouth took hers, his clever fingers unzipped her slacks so that he could slide one hand down the front of her, beneath the fragile elastic of her panties to the swollen, hot flesh awaiting him.
She shivered as he stroked her intimately. She parted her legs for him, letting her slacks slide down to pool on the floor. She didn’t care where they were. Didn’t care about anything but feeling his hands on her again. Maggie nearly wept as he pushed first one finger and then two deep inside her.
Sucking in a gulp of air, she let her head fall back as she rode his hand, rocking her hips, seeking the release only he could give her. The passion she’d only ever found with him. She heard his own breath coming hard and fast as he continued to stroke her body inside and out. His thumb worked that so sensitive bud of flesh at the heart of her, and Maggie felt her brain sizzle as tension coiled inside her, tighter, tighter.
“Come for me, Maggie,” he whispered. “Let me watch you shatter.”
She couldn’t have denied him even if she’d wanted to. It had been too long. She’d missed him too much. Maggie held on to his shoulders, fingers curling into the soft fabric of the long-sleeved shirt he wore, digging into his hard muscles.
Her mind spun, splintering with thoughts, images, while her body burned and spiraled even closer to its reward. She’d never felt anything like this with any man before him. And after Justice…she’d had no interest in other men. He was the one. She’d known it the moment she’d met him three years before. One look across a crowded dance floor at a charity event and she’d known. Instantly. It was as if everything in the world had held utterly still for one breathless moment.
Just like now.
There was nothing in the world but him and his hands. His touch. His scent. “Justice—I need…”
“I know, baby. I know just what you need. Take it. Take me.” He touched her deeper, pushing his fingers inside her, stroking her until her breath strangled in her throat.
Until she could only groan and hold on to him. Until her body trembled and the incredible tension within shattered under an onslaught of pleasure so deep, so overwhelming, all she could do was shout his name as wave after wave of completion rolled over her, through her, leaving her dazed and breathless.
And when the tremors finally died away, Maggie stared up into Justice’s lake-blue eyes and watched him smile. She was standing in the living room, with her pants down, trembling with the force of her reaction to him. She should have been…embarrassed. After all, anyone could have walked into the ranch house.
Instead, all Maggie felt was passion stirring inside again. His hands were talented, heaven knew. But she wanted more. She wanted the slide of Justice’s body into hers.
Licking her lips, she blew out a breath and said, “That was…”
“…just the beginning,” he finished for her.
Chapter Two
Sounded good to Maggie.
Yet… She glanced around the empty room before looking back at him. “Mrs. Carey’s not here, but—”
“Nobody’s here,” he said quickly. “No one’s coming. No one is going to interrupt us.”
Maggie sighed in relief. She didn’t want any interruptions. Justice was right about one thing—their past was gone. The future was gray and hazy. All she had was today. This minute. This one small slice of time, and she was going to relish every second of it.
Her fingers speared through his thick, soft hair, her nails dragging along his scalp. He always kept it too long, she thought idly, loving the way the dark brown mass lay across his collar. He had a day’s worth of dark stubble on his jaws, and he looked so damned sexy he made her quiver.
Her breasts ached for his touch and as if he’d heard that stray thought, he pulled back from her slightly, just far enough so that his fingers could work the buttons on her pale pink silk blouse. Quickly, they fell free and then he was sliding the fabric off her shoulders to drop to the floor. She stepped out of her slacks, kicked off her half boots and slipped her lacy panties off.
Then he undid her bra, tossing it aside, and her breasts were free, his hands cupping her. His thumbs moved over her peaked nipples until she whimpered with the pleasure and the desire pumping fresh and new through her system. As if that climax hadn’t even happened, her body was hot and trembling again.
Need crashed down on her, and at her core she ached and burned for him.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, drawing his mouth from hers, glancing down at her breasts, cupped in his palms. “So damn beautiful.”
“I want you, Justice. Now. Please, now.”
One corner of his mouth tipped into a wicked smile. His eyes flashed and in an instant he’d swept her up into his arms, stalked across the room and dropped her onto one of the wide sofas. She stared up at him as he tugged his shirt up and over his head. And her mouth watered. His skin, so tanned, so strong, so sculpted. God, she remembered all the nights she’d lain in his arms, held against that broad, warm chest. And she trembled at the rise of passion inside her.
She scooted back on the sofa until her head was resting on a pillow. Maggie held her arms out toward him. “What’re you waiting for, cowboy?”
His eyes gleamed, his jaw went tight and hard. He finished undressing in a split second but still Maggie thought he was taking too long. She didn’t want to wait. She was hot and wet and so ready for him that she thought she’d explode and die if he didn’t take her soon.
He came to her and Maggie’s gaze dipped to his erection, long and thick and hard. Her breath caught on a gasp of anticipation as Justice leaned down, tore the back cushions off the sofa and tossed them to the floor to make more room for them on the overstuffed couch. The dark green chenille fabric was soft and cool against her skin, but Maggie hardly noticed that slight chill. There was far too much heat simmering inside her, and when Justice covered her body with his, she could have sworn she felt actual flames sweeping over them.
“I’ve missed you, babe,” he told her, bracing himself on his hands, lowering his mouth to hers, tasting, nibbling.
“Oh, Justice, I’ve missed you, too.” She lifted her hips for him, parting her thighs, welcoming him home. He pushed his body into hers with one hard stroke. She groaned, loving the long, deep slide of his flesh claiming hers. He filled her and she lifted her legs higher, hooking them around his waist, opening herself so that she could take him even deeper.
And still it wasn’t enough. Wasn’t nearly enough. She groaned, twisting and writhing beneath him as he moved in and out of her depths in plunging strokes that fanned the flames engulfing her.
It had been too long, she thought wildly. She didn’t want soft and romantic. She wanted hard and fast and frantic. She wanted to know that he felt the same crushing need she did. She wanted to feel the strength of his passion.
“Harder, Justice,” she whispered. “Take me harder.”
He looked down at her and his eyes flashed. “I’m holding back, Maggie. It’s been too long. I don’t want to hurt you.”
She cupped his face in her palms, fought to steady her breath and finally shook her head and smiled. “The only thing that hurts is when you hold back. Justice, I need you. All of you.”
His jaw clenched tight, he swept one arm around her back, holding her to him even as he pushed off the couch. With their bodies locked together, her legs wrapped around his waist, he eased her onto the oriental carpet covering the hardwood floors. With her flat on her back, he levered himself over her, hands at either side of her head. Grinning down at her, he muttered, “Told you when you bought ’em those damn couches were too soft.”
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She grinned right back at him. “For sitting, they’re perfect. For this…yeah. Too soft.”
She lifted her hips then, taking him deeper inside. When he withdrew a moment later, she nearly groaned, but then he was back, driving himself into her, pistoning his hips against hers and she felt all of him. Took all of him. His need joined hers.
He lifted her legs, hooking them over his shoulders, tipping her hips higher so that he could delve even deeper, and Maggie groaned in appreciation. She slapped her hands onto the carpet and hung on as he moved faster and faster, driving them both to a shuddering climax that hovered just out of reach.
“Yes, Justice,” she said, her voice nothing more than a strained hush of sound. “Just like that.”
Again and again, his body claimed hers, pushing into her soft, hot folds, taking everything she offered and giving all that she could have wanted. She looked up into his eyes, saw the flash of something delicious wink in their depths and knew in that one blindingly clear instant that she would never be whole without him.
Without him.
That one random thought hovered at the edges of her mind and filled her eyes with tears even as her body began to sing and hum with the building tensions that rippled through her senses.
He touched her at their joining. Rubbing his thumb over that one spot that held so many incredible sensations. And as he touched her, Maggie hurtled eagerly toward the enormous climax waiting for her. As her body exploded with the force of completion, she screamed his name, and still she heard the quiet voice in the back of her mind whispering, Is this our last time together?
Then Justice gave himself over to his own release, her name an agonized groan sliding from his throat. When he collapsed atop her, Maggie held him close as the last of the tremors rippled through their joined bodies and eased them into oblivion.
And if her heart broke just a little, she wouldn’t let him know it.
* * *
The rest of the weekend passed in a blurry haze of passion. But for a few necessary trips to the kitchen, Justice and Maggie never left the master bedroom.
After that first time in the living room, Justice made a call to his ranch manager, Phil, and told him to handle the ranch problems himself for the next few days. It hadn’t exactly been a promise of forever, but Maggie had been happy for it.
All the same, she was crazy and she knew it. Setting herself up for another fall. As long as Justice King was the man she loved, she wasn’t going to find any peace. Because they couldn’t be together without causing each other pain and being apart was killing her.
How was that fair?
She sighed a little, her gaze still fixed on him. The only light in the room came from the river stone hearth, where a dying fire sputtered and flickered. Outside, a winter storm battered at the log mansion, tiny fists of rain tapping at the glass. And within Maggie, a different sort of storm raged.
What was she supposed to do? She’d tried living without him and had spent the most miserable nine months of her life. She’d tried to lose herself in her work, but it was an empty way to live. The sad truth was she wanted Justice. And without him, she’d never be really happy.
He was the most amazing lover she’d ever known. Every touch burned, every breath caressed, every whispered word was a promise of seduction that kept her hovering on the brink of a new climax no matter how many times he pushed her over the edge. Her skin hummed long after he stopped touching her. She closed her eyes and felt him inside her. Felt their hearts pounding in rhythm and couldn’t help wondering, as she always had, how two people could be so close and so far apart at the same time.
Now she watched him get out of bed and walk naked across the bedroom. His body was long and lean and tanned from all the years of working in the sun. His dark brown hair hung past his shoulders. She’d always found that hair of his to be sexy as hell and what made it even sexier was that he was oblivious to just how good he looked. How dangerous. Her heartbeat quickened as her gaze moved over his back, and down over his butt. He moved with a stealthy grace that was completely innate. Everything about him was, she had to admit, fabulous. He was enough to make any woman toss her panties in the air and shout hallelujah. And she was no different.
He went into a crouch in front of the hearth. The fire was dying and he set a fresh log on the fading flames. Instantly the fire blazed into life, licking at the new wood, hissing and snapping.
Maggie watched Justice. His legs were muscled and toned from hours spent in a saddle. His back and shoulders were broad and sculpted from the hard work he never spared himself. As a King, he could have hired men to do the hard work around the ranch. But she knew it had always been a matter of pride to him that he be out there with those who worked for him.
Justice King was a man out of time, she thought, sweeping one arm across the empty space in the bed where he’d been lying only moments ago. He would have been completely at home in medieval times. He would have been a Highlander, she mused, her imagination dressing him in a war-torn plaid and placing a claymore in his fist.
As if he knew she was watching him, Justice turned his face to her, and the flickering light of the fire threw dancing shadows across his features. He looked hard and strong and suddenly so unapproachable that Maggie’s heart gave a lurch.
She was setting herself up for pain and she knew it. He was her husband, but the bonds holding them together were frayed and tattered. In bed they were combustible and so damn good it made her heart hurt. It was when they were out of bed that things got complicated. They wanted different things. They each held so tightly to their own bottom line that compromise was unthinkable.
But it was Sunday night. The end of the weekend. She’d have to return to her world soon, and knowing that this time with him was nearly over was already bringing agonizing pain.
The storm blowing in off the coast howled outside the window. Rain hammered at the glass, wind whistled under the eaves and, Justice noticed, Maggie had started thinking.
Never had been a good thing, Justice told himself as he watched his wife study him. Whenever Maggie got that look on her face—an expression that said she had something to say he wasn’t going to like—Justice knew trouble was coming.
But then, he’d been halfway prepared for that since this “lost” weekend had begun. Nothing had changed. He and Maggie, despite the obvious chemistry they shared, were still miles apart in the things that mattered, and great sex wasn’t going to alter that any.
Her red-gold hair spilled across her pillow like hot silk. She held the dark blue sheet to her breasts even as she slid one creamy white leg free of the covers. She made a picture that engraved itself in Justice’s mind, and he knew that no matter how long he lived, he would always see her as she was right at this moment.
He also knew that this last image of her would torment him forever.
“Justice,” she said, “we have to talk.”
“Why?” He stood up, crossed to the chair where he’d tossed his jeans and tugged them on. A man needed his pants on when he had a conversation with Maggie King.
“Don’t.”
He glanced at her. “Don’t what?”
“Don’t shut me out. Not this time. Not now.”
“I’m not doing anything, Maggie.”
“That’s my point.” She sat up, the mattress beneath her shifting a little with her movements.
Justice turned his head to look at her, and everything in him roared at him to stalk to her side, grab her and hold her so damn tight she wouldn’t have the breath to start another argument neither of them could win.
Her hair tumbled around her shoulders, and she lifted one hand to impatiently push the mass behind her shoulders. “You’re not going to ask me to stay, are you?”
He shouldn’t have to, Justice told himself. She was his damn wife. Why should he have to ask her to be with him? She was the one who’d left.
He didn’t say any of that, though, just shook his head and buttoned the fly of hi
s jeans. He didn’t speak again until his bare feet were braced wide apart. A man could lose his balance all too easily when talking to Maggie. “What good would it do to ask you to stay? Eventually, you’d leave again.”
“I wouldn’t have to if you’d bend a little.”
“I won’t bend on this,” he assured her, though it cost him as he noted the flash of pain in her eyes that was there and then gone in a blink.
“Why not?” She pushed out of the bed, dropping the sheet and facing him, naked and proud.
His body hardened instantly, despite just how many times they’d made love over the past few hours. Seemed his dick was always ready when it came to Maggie.
“We are who we are,” he told her, folding his arms across his chest. “You want kids. I don’t. End of story.”
Her mouth worked and he knew she was struggling not to shout and rail at him. But then, Maggie’s hot Irish temper was one of the things that had first drawn him to her. She blazed like a sun during an argument—standing her ground no matter who stood against her. He admired that trait even though it made him a little crazy sometimes.
“Damn it, Justice!” She stalked to the chair where she’d left her clothes and grabbed her bra and panties. Slipping them on, she shook her head and kept talking. “You’re willing to give up what we have because you don’t want a child?”
Irritation raced through him; he couldn’t stop it. But he wasn’t going to get into this argument again.
“I told you how I felt before we got married, Maggie,” he reminded her, in a calm, patient tone he knew would drive her to distraction.
As expected, she whipped her hair back out of her eyes, glared at him fiercely, then picked up her pale pink blouse and put it on. While her fingers did up the buttons, she snapped, “Yes, but I just thought you didn’t want kids that instant. I never thought you meant ever.”
“Your mistake,” he said softly.
“But one you didn’t bother to clear up,” she countered.
“Maggie,” he said tightly, “do we really have to do this again?”
Committed to the Baby: Claiming King's BabyThe Doctor's Secret Baby Page 2
