by Nancy Pirri
When Maggie Loved
Patrick... Then John
by Nancy Pirri
Published by
Melange Books, LLC
White Bear Lake, MN 55110
www.melange-books.com
When Maggie Loved Patrick... Then John,
Copyright 2006-2008, 2011 by Nancy Pirri
ISBN: 978-1-61235-185-8
Names, characters, and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
Published in the United States of America.
Cover Art by Mae Powers
When Maggie Loved Patrick...Then John
Nancy Pirri
Maggie discovers her fiancé, Patrick, is cheating on her once again. When she catches him in bed with his secretary, she wants revenge. Then John, the secretary's fiancé, approaches her with a plan. Maggie gets much more than she bargained for.
Table of Contents
Copyright
Summary
"When Maggie Loved Patrick... Then John"
About the Author
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When Maggie Loved Patrick... Then John
“Damn him!” Maggie Hansen groaned, tears welling in her eyes as she neared her fiancé’s house. There, parked in Patrick Galloway’s driveway, was his secretary’s car, an electric blue late-model Malibu. She walked softly across the dewy grass and made her way to his bedroom window. Usually, he left the blinds open, but not tonight. He’d closed them down to the sill. Inside, she could hear the unmistakable sounds of a man and woman making love—no, having sex. That’s all it is, she told herself.
Simple, rutting, blissful, heavenly sex, no doubt.
He’d done it again; cheated on her, for the third time in as many months. No more, she vowed; no more would she allow the man whom she thought was the love of her life to hurt her. He’d pay, but she had no idea how...yet.
Satisfaction soared through her heart and soul that she’d opted for a lengthy engagement. Still, it didn’t lessen her heartache at the moment especially when she heard that slut, Angelina Kirk, scream “Yes, yes, yes, do me good, boss!” announcing to the entire neighborhood she was on the verge of an earth-shattering climax. She scowled as she tried peering in the window, thinking that Patrick hadn’t provoked even a tiny climax out of her yet, even after a year-long engagement of making love. Not so much as a single tremor or ripple had she experienced. Of course, there was the fact that Angelina might be faking it.
Then she heard Patrick’s grunting and groaning, and finally, within an embarrassingly short time his bellowing like a bull, as he too reached orgasm.
Swiftly, she left the yard retracing her steps across the grass and down the street until she reached her car. It was a cold, early October, Minnesota evening and a chill raced through her hand when she touched the metal door handle. Suddenly, shivers went up and down her spine, not due to the cold but because she felt someone behind her. She gasped when a warm, gloved hand settled over hers. Then she froze at the unmistakable feel of a man’s hard, strong body pressing her against the side of her car.
“Miss Hansen? We need to talk.”
She breathed a relieved sigh and scowled, recognizing the voice but couldn’t place it. “Who are you?”
“Angelina’s fiancé. John Grayson.”
Maggie couldn’t help the eruption of ironic laughter from deep inside her as she sank against her car, more tears streaming down her cheeks. “You’re too late,” she managed to say.
“I’ll kill the bastard,” he snapped in a low, menacing voice, “then her.”
He moved away from her and she turned to see his tall, muscular frame; saw the impatience and dejection in his broad, leather-clad back, his hands jammed on his hips while he stared at Patrick’s house.
“You know, neither of them is worth our time and effort. Is this your first time?” she asked as she came up beside him.
He looked at her in confusion. “What?”
“Is this the first time you’ve caught them together?”
“For crissakes! You mean to tell me it’s happened before?”
“Yes, this is the third time that I know of.”
“Why in the hell didn’t you call me about this? Why didn’t you break off with the jerk? What are you, a martyr, or what?”
She raised her brow. “Look, Grayson, we are merely acquaintances. Would you have believed me if I’d told you?”
After a long, intense moment of silence he said, “Good point.
Maggie sighed. “Well, then that’s that I guess. Good luck.” She took one step back and squeaked when a long arm wound around her waist and yanked her back. She found herself pressed against his chest, looking up in wide-eyed amazement at the handsome man before her.
“Listen, what kind of woman are you anyway? You’ve been scorned damn it. Hell, we’ve both been scorned. Don’t you want at least a taste of revenge?”
“I’ve thought about it, yes, revenge would be sweet. But I’ve no idea how to accomplish the deed. Have you?”
He eased his grip on her but kept her tight against his side. “Let’s go have a beer and talk about it.”
She narrowed her eyes on him. Was he serious? Should she go with him? Good grief, he might have murder on his mind and of that, she wanted no part. Sure, she was pissed and hurt. Hell, her entire future had crumbled tonight because she’d made the decision to leave Patrick...finally. But her idea of revenge which amounted to toilet-papering someone’s front yard would be vastly different from what this angry man might have in mind. Yet, she couldn’t resist at least hearing his idea.
* * * *
“So, how about it?”
Biting her lower lip, Maggie looked away. “I don’t know.”
“Well, I think the plan will give us both some satisfaction, don’t you?”
Satisfaction. Maggie coughed and beer sprayed out of her mouth and onto the table in front of her. Cold and hot shivers raced up and down her spine as she thought of his suggestion. And then of course, there was that damned dampness between her thighs she couldn’t ignore.
Still, she found herself lying, “No, it’ll never work. I could never go along with this.”
“Why not?”
“Read my lips, John. We’re strangers,” she mouthed the words slowly. As she gazed at his handsome, rugged visage, she decided it would be no hardship to get to know him better though.
With a thoroughly devilish grin and a determined, sexier than hell look in his eyes he said, “Yeah, but not for long.” Then he wiggled his eyebrows, reminding her of Groucho Marx.
She sank back in the booth as she laughed. It took her a moment to realize his expression had changed from humorous to downright sensuous, his eyes slumberous as he continued to stare.
Her laughter faded as she thought that Angelina was a fool. “I can pretend as well as the next woman I guess.”
“Only if you want things that way,” he insinuated.
She set her glass down unable to believe he might be coming on to her, especially since he hadn’t broken off his engagement to Angelina yet.
“Like I said, we are strangers so, yes, I think we’d better keep things cool.”
“It’s your call lady.”
* * * *
The following Saturday evenin
g just after Maggie climbed into bed, the insistent ringing of the doorbell prompted her to answer it. She peered out the window first and saw John Grayson on her doorstep. A prickly sensation, as though something momentous was about to happen made her pause.
“Open up, Maggie. Hurry!”
She yanked open the door and he stepped inside, forcing her to back up a step. Then he locked the door and peered out between the curtains.
“Good,” he said after a moment, “they’re here.”
Maggie grumbled, yanked her white terry robe closed to her neck and tightened the belt. “What’s going on?”
He faced her, mouth open to reply but he didn’t. Instead, his dark-eyed gaze traveled from the top of her tousled blonde hair, settled on her blue eyes a moment before caressing her body from head to toe, taking in every curve and crevice.
She felt heat seeping into her cheeks and asked, “John? What’s happened?”
He shook his head as though clearing his thoughts. “Remember how I said on a moment’s notice I’d show up with our intendeds?” He grinned, “Didn’t take long, did it?”
“You mean they’re here?” she choked.
“Yes. I was downtown at Mitch’s having a beer and mouthing off about our secret ‘love life’ to the bartender. Word got around the place fast, though I’d been dropping hints all over town during the week too, so that helped.”
Maggie’s eyes widened. “Don’t tell me you bandied my name around!”
“Hell no,” he growled. “I’d never divulge your name but it sure as hell instilled suspicion in Patrick and Angelina.”
He pulled the curtain back enough for Maggie to see Patrick’s and Angelina’s cars parked across the street from the house next door. Stepping back from the window he went from lamp to lamp, dimming them. “Okay, show me the way to your bedroom. We need to get undressed fast.”
“What!”
He frowned. “Remember? You agreed to this plan last week.”
Maggie blustered, “Yes, well I assumed we’d be keeping our clothes on.”
He raised his brow. “Really? And I assumed we’d be undressed before going to bed for the first time.”
Gritting her teeth, Maggie said, “We’re pretending.”
Dismissively he waved his hand. “True, but things will look realistic if we’re undressed. We’re consenting adults. There’s no reason to be embarrassed, after all, neither of us are virgins. Besides, nothing we do would shock me. I’m a marriage counselor.”
Maggie’s eyes widened. “You’ve got to be kidding.”
She regretted her words as soon as she saw his look of embarrassment.
“Afraid so,” he said. “Yeah, I should have known better.”
She sighed. “You’re human. How could you know Angelina was cheating on you?”
“I should have known. I’ve an instinct for that kind of thing. Felt it, but ignored it.”
Gently, Maggie said, “Sometimes ignoring things is easier than facing the truth.”
He gave her an assessing look. “You’re a smart woman, I’ll give you that. But I’ve not changed my mind. You’re a martyr.”
“Unfortunately, yes. I inherited the trait from my mother who put up with my father and his antics during forty years of marriage.”
“I’m sorry,” he said sincerely, “but we’ve got to get into your bed before the two of them arrive at the window, which could be any moment.” He peered out between the curtains. “Damn. They’re not in their cars.”
“Forget about this, John. I can’t do it. Let’s just go on out there and tell them we know about them, and break off the engagements.”
“No.” She couldn’t mistake the steely tone in his voice.
“I...I can’t go through with it,” she stated again.
“You will,” he insisted. “I spent a week making the two of them suspicious while you avoided them. You owe me lady, and its payback time for the two-timing jerks.”
Maggie bit her lip thoughtfully. He was right. She’d agreed to the terms. They’d decided to arouse suspicion in the culprits, hoping they’d take the bait and arrive at Maggie’s house, catching them together making love—rather, pretending to make love. These were terms she’d agreed upon a week ago. But then, a week ago she’d been devastated. Now in hindsight, she realized she must not have loved Patrick all that much for she had hardly shed a single tear the rest of the week. She had spent more of her time enjoying her own pursuits instead of worrying about how to please her very ‘hard to please’ fiancé.
Just the thought of the two-timing Patrick peering through the window as he watched John make love to her was thrilling, not to mention positively titillating.
But that was last week and this is now; at the time she’d been upset and saddened by Patrick’s cheating and likely would have agreed to just about anything. John had spent the better part of the week setting Patrick and Angelina up to believe she and John were having an affair. They hadn’t been of course, though little prickly sensations and thoughts entered Maggie’s head from time to time during the last few days as she thought what it would be like to be in John’s arms. She shook her head to clear it then pierced him with a narrow-eyed look.
“I’m not happy about this, but since the two of them are outside we may as well go ahead with the plan.”
“Exactly!” he enthused as he took her hand and pulled her down the hall. “Your bedroom is right here at the front of the house, isn’t it?”
Maggie decided her arm socket would never be the same. “Yes,” she said, catching her breath. “Stop, it’s right here.”
He came to a dead halt, opened her door and ushered her inside. He turned on the bedroom light and squinted against its brilliance, but then he dimmed it. “Excellent,” he murmured, watching her move swiftly around the room, lighting several candles, illuminating the room to a soft, exotic glow.
“You did say lots of candles,” she replied.
He flashed a devastatingly devilish grin at her that caused her heart to trip. “Sure did. There’s nothing like a bit of ambiance to set the scene.”
...and to mask my imperfections. While she was no prude she wasn’t a sweet young eighteen-year-old with tiny curves. She was a curvaceous twenty-five-year—hell, a woman in her prime ready for some mature-woman sex in her life. She wondered just how good a lover John would be. Patrick hadn’t cared about satisfying her, only taking his own satisfaction. It’s just the way it had always been between them.
“Uh, John? Other than revenge what will we gain from this?”
John’s brow rose. “Revenge, satisfaction, justice, what else is there?”
Maggie sank to her bed with a sigh. “Well, somehow a week ago it all sounded like it was enough, but now I just don’t think it is.”
“You’ve got something on your mind so spit it out.”
She met his eyes now filled with annoyance, concern, and if she guessed right—desire. She shrugged and whispered, “I know we talked about pretending to make love but I’ve changed my mind. I want something more—much more.”
His jaw tightened and his eyes glinted silver from the moon’s rays coming through the slits between the curtains. He heaved a deep sigh. “Changed your mind as a woman does upon occasion, but I’m not sure I’m following your thinking.”
She rose from the bed, walking sultrily towards him. “Oh boy, have I been thinking,” she said as she reached up and wound her arms around his neck. She met the stunned look in his eyes and added, “Thinking how I don’t want any damned pretending; I want the real thing, John.”
He wound his arms around her. “You sure about this?”
“As sure as I’ve ever been about anything in my life,” she purred.
John reached behind her and yanked open the curtains, allowing a big fat ray of moonlight inside. Then he dipped his head and kissed her.
Maggie’s senses were fully concentrated on the kiss that rocked her world; all sensations—sight, hearing and consciousness diminished.
Only the feel of being in John’s strong arms held her attention.
Her heart stalled when his right hand slid from around her waist, moved to her hip, then over her buttocks. Through the fluffy texture of her robe, she felt the heat of his touch and she gasped when his fingers slid down the cleft of her buttocks. A light, sensuous touch prompted her to part her legs and allow him further intrusion. She’d never been touched quite so intimately, and especially not there! It felt hedonistic and glorious.
They both stilled when they heard a branch snap.
John whispered in her ear, “Ah, it’s about damned time they showed up.” Easily he lifted her in his arms, moved to her bed and settled her in the center. Then he straightened up, staring down at her as he unbuckled his belt.
She gave him a shy smile, sat up, and reached for his hands. “Allow me.”
His eyes went from silver to dark and his nostrils flared. He held his arms away from his body. “I’m all yours, baby.”
Maggie laughed and quickly undressed him, her hands growing increasingly unsteady as she revealed more and more of his magnificent body. Finally, when he stood before her utterly nude, his manhood thrusting out and up away from his body, she thrilled at the sight, knowing he was more than ready for her. Knowing that he was attracted to her gave her a sense of power, something she’d never felt with Patrick. She could barely wait for him to join her in her bed. She took his wrists and leaning back at the same time she pulled him down.
He sat beside her. “This won’t do at all.” He untied her belt and spread her robe open.
Maggie felt the intense heat from his gaze, though she couldn’t see it clearly because of the dimness. She saw the slight dipping of his head and knew he was gazing upon her breasts, navel, then lower, to the pale curls between her thighs.
