“No. I’m feeling a bit light-headed, in fact.”
“Definitely not a good sign,” he said shaking his head with concern as he stepped closer, closing the gap between them. Both of his hands cupped her face, his gaze intense. “Any nausea?”
She put her hand on her belly. It was a nice touch. “A little.”
“Hmmm.” He lowered his head, looking deeply into her eyes while stroking her cheek with his thumb. “Double vision?”
“Yes,” she said somewhat breathlessly. “Lots of that.”
He bit back a smile and tried to give her his best stern doctor look. “Maggie, I don’t think I should leave you alone tonight.”
Her eyes swirled and sparkled. “It would totally go against your Hippocratic oath.”
He smiled slowly. Her lips, parted slightly, were impossible to resist. He dipped his head more, and when she stretched toward him, there was no reason to. The moment his lips touched hers, he was lost. They were so soft, so welcoming, and felt unbelievably good against his own.
Michael inhaled her sweet breath, took it into his body, instantly coming to the realization that it was like a drug to him – intoxicating and highly addictive. When her lips parted further, he reveled in the taste, like sweetness and cinnamon. Someone moaned; he couldn’t be sure if it was her or him.
Maggie’s arms snaked up around his neck as he deepened the kiss, his hands finding their way downward to her back, pulling her against him. Soft and pliant, she responded, pressing her body against his.
An eternity later, Michael somehow found the strength to pull away, though he kept his arms around her. His heart was pounding in his chest, blood pumping through his veins. Never had a kiss had such a complete and devastating effect on him. Maggie’s arms clung to his neck, her lips red and slightly swollen from his kisses, head tilted to him in surrender, eyes closed. The image of her, just like that, was burned forever into his mind.
* * *
Maggie was glad Michael was holding her, because her legs were so weak she probably wouldn’t have been capable of standing on her own. Lord, but the man knew how to kiss! She no longer had to pretend she was feeling dizzy; Michael had seen to it that her internal sense of balance was now completely shattered. She tried to remember all of the warning symptoms he’d told her to look out for, those that might indicate a serious concussion, but her mind was no longer capable of thinking of anything except that kiss.
Her eyes opened ever so slowly to find him staring at her, looking every bit as surprised as she felt. She took great personal satisfaction in that; clearly she had not been the only one deeply affected.
“No one has ever kissed me like that before,” she whispered, her gaze dropping to his mouth. “Would you mind very much if I asked you to do it again?”
“Michael,” she murmured sometime later. She was snuggled in his lap in front of the fire, his arms around her, his hands roaming lazily over her back and shoulders, the outside of her thighs and calves as they made out like teenagers. His hands felt so good, so warm and strong and capable. Despite the fact that he kept his caresses to “safe” areas, it ignited a slow burn that heated her from the inside out. The man must have incredible self-control; other than an occasional deep-throated growly sound or nibble, he’d kept his kisses above the shoulders and his fondling PG. She knew he was aroused; she could feel the hardened proof of it beneath her bottom, yet he made no move to take things further. It was both a relief and a disappointment.
“Hmmm,” he answered, his voice muffled as he pressed his lips to the underside of her jaw. Each time he did, it elicited a shiver that ran from the top of her head to the tips of her toes.
“I think we lost power.” The only light in the room was from the dwindling fire. The steady background hum of appliances and radiators was noticeably absent with only the muffled pelting of snow and ice against the side of the sturdy house.
He chuckled against her neck, sending little rumbles against her throat. “It went off over an hour ago, Maggie.”
“Did it now?”
“Mm-hm.”
“Michael?”
“Hmmm.”
“Thank you for staying.”
Maggie’s body was on fire for him. Her breasts were swollen and painful, begging to be touched. Though he’d come close with his caresses several times, Michael always managed to redirect his hands at the last second. As he kissed her expertly, she couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like if he would take one of her breasts in his mouth, tease her with that wicked tongue of his, nip at the hardened points like he was doing to her neck.
The ache in her center was no less substantial. It was agonizing and electric at the same time, a rhythmic throb that extended down into her very wet, very slick sex. For the first time in her life, Maggie felt empty. And along with that came the instinctual knowledge that Michael could remedy that with that overly large, overly hard part of him currently pressing against her bottom.
Maggie shuddered at the low growl that rumbled through his body and into hers, her nerves becoming even more sensitized as she realized she longed to have him inside her. To cradle his perfect, narrow hips between her thighs and welcome him into her body. Judging by the size of his erection, he wanted her, too. Yet he made no move to progress beyond kissing. It was more than a little ironic, she thought vaguely. The first man she would have said yes to wasn’t asking.
“Are you cold?” he asked in that deep voice that resonated down through her very core when she shivered again.
“No,” she answered truthfully. Her body felt almost unbearably warm, and some parts literally felt like they were burning, but her voice trembled as if she was.
* * *
Michael inhaled slowly, deeply. This woman set him on fire from the inside out. He had to get a hold on his control before he flipped her over the sofa and pounded into her like his body wanted to. God help him, his dick was like cast iron, his balls tight and aching. She was so unbelievably soft, every lush feminine curve and swell begging for his attention. But as much as he wanted to be inside her body, he wanted to be inside her heart as well, and for a lot longer than one night.
Ian tried to explain to him once what it felt like when he first met Lexi. “It’s like how you feel when you’re on a mission for weeks and you finally return, when you come over the crest of the mountain and everything’s dark. Then suddenly you see a million twinkling lights in the valley, welcoming you, and you just know you’re home, where you belong, and at that moment, there is just nowhere on earth you’d rather be.”
Yeah, thought Michael, staring into the soft, loving eyes of the woman in his arms. It’s like that exactly. He’d never felt anything even remotely like this for a woman, and it was staggering. From the moment he’d laid eyes on her she’d called to something deep within him, awakening a need he hadn’t even realized he had. And he would not do anything to change that, even if it meant standing out in the frigid temperatures to cool himself off.
With great reluctance, he called upon his will while he still had some remaining. “I’ll put a few more logs on the fire.” With a few more lingering kisses – just so she understood how much he didn’t want to stop - Michael gently removed her from his lap.
She stared at him in the firelight, her eyes luminescent, her hair mussed – all his doing, of course. For just a moment she looked at him with so much hunger, so much possession, his heart skipped a beat. He imagined his eyes must look very much like that as well, if the need coursing through his body and pulsing in his groin was any indication.
“It’s very late,” he said, an odd, husky tone to his voice that hadn’t been there before. “You should rest.”
Maggie nodded, releasing him, her expression suddenly morphing into one of uncertainty before it evened out into something less readable. Surely she couldn’t believe he’d wanted to stop?
She wrapped her arms around herself. “It makes sense to camp out in here, I think,” she said. “There won’t be
any heat upstairs. It’s what I usually do when the power goes out.”
The reds and golds of the flames reflected in the clear green of her eyes, creating stunningly beautiful shades of gold and brown. “Does that happen often?”
She shrugged. “Enough. It’s an old house.” Michael made a mental note to check the circuit boxes first thing in the morning. But right now the most important thing on his agenda was getting himself and Maggie some rest.
Maggie managed to create a cozy little nest of blankets and pillows in front of the fireplace while Michael brought in enough firewood to last throughout the night, as well as the overnight bag he’d stashed in the truck. Satisfied that everything was in order, he sank down, wondering just how in the hell he was going to manage being in the same room with her all night without touching her. Even a few minutes in the snow and icy wind hadn’t lessened the monster hard-on he was still sporting, not to mention that her scent permeated the entire room. And he swore he could not be held responsible if she looked at him with those big green eyes again, eyes that literally begged him to take her. Clearly she had no idea that beneath his calm, controlled exterior lay a beast that wanted nothing more than to ravish and claim her in the most primitive way possible.
He swallowed hard when she re-entered the room moments later, wearing the same flannel shirt he had wrapped her in at the Pub, her little ankle socks, and smelling of vanilla mint toothpaste. The shy way she looked at him from beneath her long, dark lashes, the firelight reflected in her hair, had him spellbound. He’d always considered himself a strong-willed man, but then again, he’d never known the likes of Maggie Flynn.
As if it was the most natural thing in the world, she curled up next to him on the floor. Her hair, now freed from the clips that normally held it in place, fell over his arm like dark red silk. Her warmth seeped into him almost immediately, making his cock pulse beneath the sweats he’d changed into.
“Maggie?” He was about to suggest she move up to the sofa where she would be more comfortable. She lifted her head, pinning him with a gaze that nearly rendered him helpless.
“Is this alright?” she asked, a new uncertainty in her voice. “I just thought ...” She didn’t finish, casting her eyes downward, her face flushing a furious dark pink as she began to push away, mumbling an apology.
“Maggie,” he said softly, his arm reaching out to curl her back into him. “No more thinking.” He tucked her against him, relishing the perfect fit of her body to his. He would find some way to tether his surging lust if it meant being close to her like this.
He felt, rather than saw her smile as her body melted into his. “Goodnight, Michael.”
She snuggled up against him, and within minutes her deep, even breaths told him she was asleep. He curled his arm around her protectively, drifting off himself a short time later.
Chapter Eleven
Maggie awoke with a terrible ache that had nothing to do with her recent injuries and everything to do with the hard male wrapped around her. Her face was tucked into his neck; his arms and legs caging her in place as his massive erection pressed into the soft flesh of her belly – the same erection she had been rubbing against in her sleep.
It had been his deep-throated groan that had brought her into awareness, made her realize that it was more than a dream.
Maggie had never felt this way before - fevered and anxious, a hungry need so deep it felt as if she could never reach it. She’d experienced arousal before – mostly while reading Salienne Dulcette’s steamy romances – but that was nothing compared to this. She wanted Michael more than she had ever wanted anyone, the desire to have him overriding everything else. She had to do something and soon before she lost her mind. Or embarrassed herself beyond repair. She cringed when she thought of how she had shamelessly straddled and rubbed against him earlier, all but begging for him to make love to her. But he hadn’t.
There could be many reasons for that, several of them honorable. He certainly seemed interested enough, so she decided to be cautiously optimistic. At that moment, however, there was little chance of her getting any sleep unless she found some way to relieve the worst of the ache.
Under normal circumstances, she wouldn’t even consider what she was about to do, but she was feeling rather desperate. And really, it was all his doing. If he wasn’t so damn gorgeous, if his body hadn’t been made for hot, sweaty, epic sex, if he hadn’t nearly brought her to orgasm with little more than his kiss and a few deft caresses.... what woman wouldn’t be just shy of a core meltdown?
She had to do something if she wanted to get any rest whatsoever.
She carefully extracted herself from his hold. He frowned in his sleep, reaching for her as she began to separate from him. She whispered against his ear and stroked his hair until he relaxed, promising to be back soon. Given how jacked-up she was, she wouldn’t be long at all. He wouldn’t even know she was gone.
* * *
Michael’s first thought when he woke was how cold he was. Maggie had been like a perfect little heater, warming him from the inside out. Of course, no other form of heat had ever made him ache quite so fiercely.
He reached out and ran his hand over the blanket where she had been. The spot beside him still held warmth, so she hadn’t been gone very long. He rose to add a few more logs to the dwindling fire. George was snoring loudly in front of the hearth, but Maggie was nowhere to be seen.
Outside, the storm continued to rage mercilessly. Some nor’easters could last up to several days, and this one certainly appeared to have that kind of staying power. Not that he minded in the least. The thought of being stranded with Maggie was about the best possible way he could think of to weather out the storm.
After ten minutes passed and she still hadn’t returned, Michael’s unease grew. The kitchen was dark, and the door to the downstairs bathroom was wide open, the candles she’d lit flickering softly. A check of all the other rooms on the first floor came up empty as well.
He grabbed a flashlight and went toward the entrance to the basement. Perhaps she had gone down to check the circuit breaker. “Maggie?” he called softly, opening the door. There was no answer, no telltale glow down below, only silence and darkness.
A slight noise had him glancing upwards. Closing the basement door, he made his way slowly up the steps, trying to make as little noise as possible. He didn’t want to startle her, or impose on her privacy. He just needed to make sure she was okay, then he would slip back into the living room to wait for her.
Michael ran one hand through his hair. When had he become so protective? What was it about this woman that turned him inside out?
The snow and ice continued to pelt against the side of the house. Below, the fire crackled and sizzled as the sap from the new logs heated and popped. But there was something else, too. A low, barely audible hum. What the hell? He turned at the top of the stairs, trying to pinpoint the source. After one full turn his eyes landed on the door of what was probably a bedroom.
The soft glow of a candle spilled from the slight opening beneath the door. Like a ghost, Michael drifted silently down the hallway. The closer he drew, the more fixated he became on the sound. Laying his ear against the door, he heard the soft hum. It was muffled, as was another sound. One that had his heart beating frantically in his chest and his lungs suddenly incapable of functioning properly.
His hand turned the doorknob slowly so as not to make a sound. It was unlocked and swung open noiselessly. Michael stepped inside, quickly closing the door behind him. The hum came from the far corner, back in the shadows, beneath a pile of blankets. Dear God, he prayed fervently, don’t let that be what I think it is. He wouldn’t survive it.
The top of Maggie’s head was barely visible, but her soft, whispered moans were as loud as if someone had hard-wired an amplifier directly into his auditory system. Each one was like a stroke to his body, making every nerve ending stand up and take notice.
He moved forward without conscious thought, opera
ting entirely on autopilot, until he could see her. Her body undulated rhythmically beneath the blankets. Her eyes were closed, her lips parted slightly.
Whether he made a sound or she sensed his presence he didn’t know, but suddenly her eyes flew open and locked on his. She froze, the horror of being caught evident in her eyes.
“Don’t stop,” he begged, his voice as rough as sandpaper as he tried to speak through his tightened throat. “Please, Maggie, don’t stop.”
She eyed him warily as he took another step closer, then another, until he was directly beside her. He slowly pulled the covers away from her, sucking in a breath when he found her naked from the waist down beneath them, hands between her thighs, the gentle hum of her mini-vibrator suddenly much clearer.
He’d been so good. He was a strong man. But this was just too much.
“Sweet Jesus, you’re beautiful,” he said in awe as he sat down on the bed. He place one of his hands over hers and cupped it over her sex. “Don’t stop,” he whispered again, the wonder in his voice unmistakable.
Slowly, tentatively, she obeyed him. He watched, fascinated, as she sought to satisfy her own deep-seated need. Her eyes widened as he slid his hand down into the waistband of his pants and gripped himself. With a new hunger sparkling in her eyes she threw her head back and arched before him. He groaned. “Jesus,” he muttered, unable to tear his eyes away from her. “That is the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”
“Show me,” she commanded softly, her husky voice a hard tug on his cock.
That voice was pure fantasy. Deep and throaty, breathless and thick with desire. Her gaze dropped from his face to the hand concealed within his pants. Obediently, he pulled them down over his hips. Her eyes widened at the sight of his fully erect manhood straining toward her. He began to stroke himself in perfect synchronization with the roll of her hips.
Michael leaned over and took one hard nipple into his mouth. Her whispered moan became a soft cry that nearly did him in. He scraped the diamond tip with his teeth, then sucked. Hard.
House Calls: Callaghan Brothers, Book 3 Page 8
