Heat Wave (Riders Up)

by Adriana Kraft

  Finally, Maggie stood again and stepped out of her dress. She slid her hip hugging panties down to the floor and stood with her gaze fixed on his.

  “You’re beautiful.” His mouth dried. He’d never realized just how perfect a female specimen she was. And now the sexy woman who had tormented him since the moment he’d seen her approach on the sidewalk outside the Resting Arms Hotel stood before him with palms turned upward, inviting him home.

  Maggie moaned softly when Ed easily picked her up and laid her on the kitchen table. Sale catalogs and pedigree charts tumbled every which way.

  Ed leaned over to kiss her lips, her neck, and then her breasts. Each breast received equal oral attention: each orb washed, each nipple stroked to full extension, each crown suckled.

  Clasping her bare legs tightly around his bottom, Maggie rocked back and forth. Ed smiled when she pressed his head gently downward. He needed no more encouragement. With his tongue he traced a trail across the rivulets of perspiration forming on her flat stomach.

  “I’m not a yearling filly to be gentled,” she squealed huskily. She applied more encouraging pressure to his head.

  “I’m not very calm,” he muttered, moving his tongue lower still. Her sex opened before him. The soft fleece of golden ringlets was already soaking, and not just from the humidity.

  He breathed deeply, sucking her scent into his lungs, never wanting it to escape. She tasted slightly salty. He would never get enough of her. His tongue searched further. Her legs jerked; her thighs squeezed. He paused for air.

  “Oh my God,” she screamed. “Don’t stop now!”

  In response, Ed slipped two fingers into her cleft. Spreading her thighs wide, wiggling her bottom, she offered him a better angle. He probed deeper while his tongue tapped her clit. Repeatedly, he rhythmically grazed and licked her engorged flesh.

  - o -

  Through the hazy fog of her mind, Maggie became aware of what Ed was doing. His subtle, sensual movements matched the beat of the faucet drip. Excruciating. Exhilarating.

  She waited. He flicked his tongue and plunged his fingers. Maggie moved closer to the edge. As the faucet dripped, he continued his excruciating pace. This was different. She’d never before been played like some erotic instrument. The edge was near. She was the edge.

  Shaking uncontrollably, she felt her release cascade through her body.

  When at last she hunched forward on her elbows to peek through teary eyes at Ed’s head resting on her belly, Maggie ginned lazily. “What a way to beat the heat.” She yawned, stretching like a satisfied cat. “Why did we wait so long? But what about you?”

  Maggie didn’t have to wait long for an answer. She watched Ed stand and unbuckle his belt.

  In a manner of moments, Maggie straddled her lover’s thighs, smiling down at him. Ed didn’t seem bothered at all by the kitchen tiles. Again, he was letting her assume the lead. She leaned over and kissed him lightly. “I’ve dreamed of this often. Have you wondered?” she asked.

  “Yeah, I’ve thought about it once or twice,” Ed deadpanned, lacing his fingers under his head.

  “I should leave you hanging for that,” she said, tickling his ribs, “but I won’t, because I finish what I start. Unlike some people I know.”

  “You’re not going to let me forget about that night in the loft, are you?”

  “Never. It’s too much fun to threaten to leave you in the lurch, so to speak. But enough of this chatter.” Maggie raised up and moved forward. Positioning herself over him, she began an unhurried descent.

  Settling back on his torso, she luxuriated in the touch of him pressing against her inner walls. It had been so long. Too long. Maggie pulled on her nipples and rocked slowly back and forth. She bent forward to run her tongue across his lips and then pulled back, grinning broadly. “You like?” she asked.

  - o -

  Ed nodded, not trusting himself with words. Her heat surrounded him. Ed waited for Maggie to set the pace. She was more patient than he had expected. She looked so in control, so powerful. Waiting. Squeezing him with her inner muscles. Waiting again.

  He watched her inch up his shaft in tiny spirals, her tempo painfully slow. A devious smile crept across her face; her eyes remained fixed on his. And then it dawned on him: she was doing the same thing he’d done. She was slithering up and down to the cadence of the drips falling from the faucet. When a drip splashed in the sink, she crashed to the floor, swallowing his shaft deep inside.

  Ed squinted at their juncture, praying for the drip to pick up speed. It didn’t.

  Shifting her weight slightly and placing her hands on his knees, Maggie sparked yet a different sensation, as if she were testing a new prize possession. Ed didn’t care. There would never again be a first time for them.

  Grinning broadly, Maggie sat back up and stretched her arms high about her head. “Two can play this game,” she whispered merrily, continuing to match the pace of the dripping faucet.

  “Ah.” Ed smiled back at her. “And you play it so well.”

  Maggie rode him steadily. He started to tense. They both knew it was only a matter of time and friction. She rode on.

  “Oh hell,” Ed moaned, his torso straining toward completion.

  He began to pulsate and rumble. At last he grabbed her hips and slammed her to his loins, draining himself. He felt Maggie shudder with her own release. Ed’s entire body quaked with aftershocks. He hugged her tenderly as she settled against his chest.

  Maggie mumbled somewhat incoherently, “You know, if I had any energy left, I’d get us some ice water. There’ll be other times. I bet you’re going to be around a long time.”

  Reality burst through his sated haze. A long time? Hardly. Eventually, he’d become a millstone hanging about her neck. Later. Later, he’d worry about that. For now, he permitted himself to wallow in the pleasure of her body pressed atop his.

  It had been a fantastic day, Ed acknowledged grudgingly. To have a woman to love like Maggie who worked as hard as he did and shared similar dreams was an uncommon experience. Oh, there had been women before, plenty of them. But no Maggie Anderson. Most of the women he’d been with weren’t interested in getting their hands dirty, and he’d never shared his hopes and dreams with any of them.

  He glanced down at Maggie nestled in the crook of his arm. They sat on the porch swing gliding rhythmically back and forth, letting the day wash gently over them. Robins chattered and finches chirped as the sun settled for the night. The evening seemed so right. That humbled and frightened him.

  “This is pretty good.” Maggie said, peering up at him.

  “Yeah, this is pretty good,” he agreed, pulling her closer. He wouldn’t allow himself to wish that it could last. They had some time before the kids returned from camp. That might be enough for her to tire of him or to wake up and see the fatal flaws that marred his character. But for now he wasn’t going to dwell on the inevitable. Now was a time to enjoy and to fill his senses with Maggie. He leaned over, breathed her scent deeply and kissed the top of her head.

  He watched her look up at him inquisitively. Her faint smile would confound any man’s heart. Her eyes were misty with tears of joy. He shuddered—they were only harbingers of tears of a different kind.

  “I’m glad we finally got our act together, Mr. Hot Shot Trainer,” Maggie teased. “There for a while I thought you were running a marathon, and I didn’t know if I was going to keep up.”

  “Humph. You have enough stamina and courage—you could run any man into the ground.”

  “No, not just any man,” she disagreed. “You’re the only man I’m interested in. And I’m a one man woman.”

  “I never doubted that a bit, Maggie.” Ed stood abruptly, leaned with his back against the porch rail, and faced those sky blue eyes.

  He saw her swallow hard. Fear flickered across her features before she folded her hands in her lap. She was probably wondering if he would even stay the night.

  Ed shoved his hands in his front
pockets. “Woman, you’ve gotten to me, I have to confess that. Yeah, I know you’re a one man woman. I don’t know if I’m a one woman man. It’s been so long I’m not sure about anything when it comes to women. Fair warning—just don’t get your heart set on anything long term.”

  “I didn’t ask for promises.”

  “Your body speaks louder than any words can. Ah, Maggie.” He pulled her off the swing into his arms. “It’s hard as hell to be with you, but it’s even harder without. Just remember, I warned you. Your roots are deep in this rich Iowa soil. And I’m a rolling stone.”

  “It’s okay,” she moaned into his chest. “I don’t have a crystal ball either. But be forewarned, I collect stones.”

  Gliding his hands over her buttocks, pulling her closer, rubbing his lips tenderly across her forehead, Ed whispered, “Maybe we ought to find a bed this time. My body’s getting a little too old for tile floors.”

  “I think your body is just the right age, but I bet a bed can be arranged.” Placing her hand in his, she tugged him through the kitchen doorway toward the stairs leading up to her bedroom.

  - o -

  Five spectacular love-drenched days sprinted by far too quickly. Maggie lay in her bed watching rays of the sunrise peeking through lacy curtains. She gazed at the lined face of her sleeping lover and her eyes watered. She couldn’t remember a more delicious five days in her entire life.

  Daily, she and Ed had risen early to make love, cook breakfast and then go work with the horses. In the evening, they would sit on the porch and listen to the twilight sounds as nature prepared for bed, and then they too retired to make fabulous love again.

  Ed had surprised her with his attentiveness. She’d soared so often in a sensual orbit of fulfillment there weren’t enough hours in the day to do all that needed to be done.

  She greeted each day as a blessed gift. Never had she expected she would be fortunate enough to find love twice in a lifetime. Wasn’t that what fairy tales were made of? Could it last when the kids returned from camp? It had to.

  Yet as her spirits climbed new heights, Ed was less talkative, more glum and at times downright rude. Was he struggling with commitment? Did he wonder about how the kids would react to him as their mother’s lover?

  Or did he regard her as not good enough for the long haul? He was probably used to flashier women in the big city. Maybe he’d quickly tire of a plain farm girl.

  And it wasn’t like he had pursued her. But he was such a considerate lover. He’d matched her passion. She didn’t doubt his love for her. Still, there was something troubling him, and he wasn’t talking about it.

  - o -

  Through narrowed slits, Ed cringed at the sight of radiant bliss on Maggie’s face. How had he allowed things to get so out of control? She was the most beautiful women he’d ever been with. She was stunning on the outside, but even more especially, she was beautiful on the inside. He didn’t want to see her hurt, but pain was inevitable now. He’d failed at protecting her—from him.

  She would do okay. She was a survivor. Behind her air of innocence stood a steel-trap will. The woman had more grit and determination than most men he’d known. If she set her mind on something, she seldom failed. She exercised a sharp sense of judgment that would take her far in the horse world. How had her powers of discernment had gone so far awry with him?

  Flashing a half smile, Maggie ran a finger across his furrowed brow. “Don’t play possum. I know you’re awake.”

  Ed grunted, feigning sleep.

  Maggie bounced playfully on the bed and tossed the sheets to the floor. Kneeling beside him, she leaned over and used her tongue to trace tiny circles around his nipples, first one and then the other.

  “Damn, woman, can’t you let a man sleep now and then?” he groused, stroking her corded neck muscles.

  “Not this man.” She worked her hand around his erection and up and down its length. “Feels like you’re more than a little awake.”

  With Maggie licking his belly button and moving lower still, Ed sank into a pleasurable abyss. How could he escape a whirlwind? How could he protect Maggie Anderson from herself? Quickly, the questions were forgotten.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Later that same day, after the horses were cared for and supper dishes were finished, Maggie and Ed sat comfortably side by side on the porch swing. She worked a crossword puzzle and he caught up on racing news from the Daily Racing Form. Frogs croaked, announcing the approach of evening. The blood-red sun rested atop the western horizon.

  Both Maggie and Ed glanced up at the sound of a vehicle entering the driveway. It was a white compact, the kind popular with rental car agencies.

  Maggie scrutinized the familiar figure getting out of the car and walking stiffly toward the house. “Oh, shit.”

  “Who the hell is that?” Ed asked, picking up on Maggie’s distress. The man approaching them had on a blazing Hawaiian shirt, khaki shorts, and the whitest patent leather shoes Ed had ever seen. He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

  “That’s my brother.”

  “Your…”

  “Brother. Guess I didn’t get around to mentioning him,” she said weakly.

  “No, guess not.” Ed stood aside and watched Maggie move to greet her brother. Neither sibling appeared all that eager. This didn’t look like a grand family reunion. He decided it was best for him to simply lay low. This was Maggie’s place. And it was her brother.

  The man dressed for the beach opened the screen door. “You don’t look all that pleased to see your dear brother, Sis. Wonder why?”

  Ed observed the man’s smile, which never reached his eyes. His resemblance to Maggie was remarkable. The same straw-blond hair, turned-up nose and oval face. But he was of medium build. Thankfully, her brother’s eyes were brown. Ed’s dislike for the sneering intruder was immediate and intense. Not only had Maggie failed to tell him about her brother, neither had she indicated the pain she carried because of him. Ed took a step closer to Maggie.

  She swung an arm behind her back as if to keep him from interfering. “Do you want some coffee, Brad? Or maybe some lemonade?” Her inflection was flat and toneless.

  “Not even a good to see you, long time no see, why are you here?”

  Clasping her hands loosely at her waist, she replied, “I figure you’ll tell me soon enough. If you don’t want anything to drink, at least have a seat. And oh…this is Ed Harrington. He works for me.” Motioning toward Ed, she added, “This is my brother, Brad.”

  Ed extended his hand, quickly took the shorter man’s and shook it firmly. “Pleased to meet you,” he lied.

  “I doubt that.” Moving to sit on the edge of a chair, Brad frowned at his sister. “So this is the man you’ve been shacking up with.”

  Maggie squeezed Ed’s thigh tightly as he started to rise up off the swing to go after her brother.

  “It’s all right,” she whispered to him. Turning to Brad she said, “Ed and I are lovers. So what is that to you? You’ve been married and divorced more times than I can remember, and I sure wouldn’t know what came in between.”

  “Hell, I don’t give a damn how many men are screwing you, Sis. I just think it’s a hoot. I wish Mom and Dad were here now. You were always the perfect one. The hard worker. The good student. The perfect wife and mother. And now look at you—a single mom with the hots for a man who can hardly limp past a bottle. Yeah, I’ve heard about your good Mr. Harrington. Sis, you never could walk past a stray dog.”

  Ed throttled his anger. How could the usually bristling Maggie just sit there and take crap from such a fancy dude?

  Maggie sat ramrod straight.

  Brad studied his manicured fingernails.

  At last, Maggie broke the silence. “So what do you want, Brad? Why are you here now? I’ve sent a check each month since the will was read. It’ll take time, but that was stated clearly in Dad’s will.”

  Ed’s brow furrowed.

  Brad shot him a look of contempt. “So you do
n’t know that I’m a silent partner in this operation of Maggie’s? I own twenty-five percent of the place.”

  “You did own twenty-five percent. That’s down to less than twenty now. I should have just paid you off in a lump sum with Mason’s life insurance money, but Dad’s instructions were to pay you over a fifteen year period.”

  “He wanted me tied to my sister’s apron strings, that’s why.”

  The bitterness in her brother’s voice bothered Ed. Why would a father want to dictate family loyalty from the grave?

  Maggie crossed her arms under her breasts. “And you have no say in what I do with the land. You own a portion, but you can’t sell it to anyone but me. I not only own over eighty percent of the land, Dad made clear in the will that he wanted you to have no say in the operation of the farm. That’s why you got so much cash when Mom and Dad were killed. I can’t help it if you go through money like it’s toilet paper.”

  “Ah, yes. Saint Maggie. Maggie—Daddy’s girl who had dirt under her fingernails and sand in her veins. I never could understand why you loved this damn farm so much. I couldn’t wait to get away from it, and you seem to wear it proudly like a millstone around your neck.”

  “We always have had different interests.”

  “That’s putting it mildly. Anyway, I understand from the banker that we have a significant offer for the farm. I want to sell!”

  Ed thought the man’s neck veins might pop. Well, at least he finally knew what was going on. Sort of.

  Maggie laughed a dry laugh. “You’ve certainly wasted your time coming all the way from California to tell me that news. You’ve wanted to sell from the moment our parents were in the ground. I’m not selling. No chance. I’m sure Prater went to a lot of effort to track you down. But it won’t do any good. You can’t make me sell. I wish I could just pay you off and be done with it.”

  “Who the hell is going to sue if you did pay me off? Dad’s not coming back, you know.”