When Russ wiped a hand down his face, it was almost her undoing.
One more quick hug. A peck to his cheek and a pat to his belly. She couldn’t hold herself together much longer. “See you in November.”
“Yeah. And I’ll see you at Christmas, Dad.”
“Take care.” Jeff gave a soft pat to his son’s shoulder, then he took Maggie’s arm and swiveled her toward the parking lot. “Let’s go.”
She should be irritated Jeff was taking charge, telling her it was time to leave her son. But her feet wouldn’t have moved without his prodding.
“I’m driving.” He held out his hand, and she relinquished the keys without dissension. Spike waved to them as he got into his car. He was making the drive back to his home tonight—Maggie wished she could do the same. The hotel room would feel lonelier than ever.
But then, so would home.
She made it to the car, through the buckling in, the starting of the ignition and all the way to the point where Jeff was about to pull out of the parking lot. And then the tears erupted from her.
Jeff whipped the car into the nearest parking place and they came to an abrupt stop. Her sight was so blurred she couldn’t see him, but she felt his arm around her shoulders pulling her against him. She sobbed into his chest.
“He’s going to be fine, Mags,” he whispered. She nodded, but words wouldn’t come yet. “You’ve done such a great job. He’s well-adjusted. Has a great personality.”
“But the house is going to...to be so...so empty with him gone,” she blubbered.
“It’s not like he’s never coming back,” Jeff soothed, stroking her hair. “He’ll be home in a little over three months.”
“But things will never be the s-s-ame. This is the start of him being...being gone for good.”
Jeff dabbed at the tears with a tissue from the box in the backseat. “You know what I think?” She shook her head. “I think we should be celebrating.”
She straightened, taken aback by his declaration. He cupped her cheeks, directing her gaze toward his with hands that were warm and gentle. Being with someone at that moment felt nice.
“I mean it, Mags. We’ve done a hell of a job with this kid. We should be proud of who he is, who we’re sending out into the world. He’ll make it a better place.” Then he released her and shifted the car into Reverse. “We’re going back to the hotel and celebrating.”
Maggie was in no mood to celebrate and planned on heading to her room as soon as they got there. Surprisingly she was able to get her tears under control during the drive, and by the time they got to the lobby, she was almost herself again—except for the puffy eyes. And the thought of going upstairs to her empty room was no longer appealing. So when Jeff took her hand, she allowed him to lead her into the lounge to a table in the shadowy back corner with a high-backed love seat. It was dark enough she didn’t feel conspicuous about her red eyes and nose, and cozy enough to relax.
A few couples were taking a turn on the floor, dancing to the pleasant melodies of the soloist with the smoky voice and her accompanist. When the server came to take their order, Jeff didn’t ask her preference.
“We’ll have a bottle of Pol Roger Brut Réserve and two glasses,” he said.
“A whole bottle of champagne?” Maggie asked as the server walked away. “That’s a little much, isn’t it?”
Jeff grinned, his white teeth gleaming against his tanned face, made darker by the dim lighting. “Only three glasses each. And we’re not gonna gulp them. We’re going to sit here and savor them for as long as we want.” He cocked his head in question, his gaze flitting over her face. “You better now?”
“I’m okay.”
“Good.” Her hand lay on the love seat between them and he patted it lightly. A couple of hours ago, that touch would have sent a shock wave through her. But saying goodbye to Russ seemed to have desensitized her, leaving her a little numb. Jeff pointed out the window to the street beyond. “What a shame. You came all the way to Chicago and didn’t have a chance to shop the Magnificent Mile.”
“I actually had a couple of hours this morning. While you and Russ were playing your practice round, and having man time with Spike, I was hitting the shops.” She tried to sound contrite, but she couldn’t keep the grin from her face when Jeff cringed at the mention of Spike. “All you two got were sore ears and a plastic trophy. I scored a dress, two pairs of capris and three pairs of shoes.”
His face sobered, and he took a long breath. “Kind of like old times. Me slaving in the hot sun while you shop.”
What a low blow! Immediately, Maggie went on the defensive, her spine stiffening, bracing for combat. But then she saw the edge of his mouth twitch. He was toying with her. Well...she could play, too. “Really like old times. You on the golf course. Me left to my own entertainment.”
He pinned her with a hard look, but then both corners of his mouth twitched, and he dissolved into laughter. “We were quite a pair, weren’t we?”
She nodded her smiling agreement just as the server arrived with their order. The young woman opened the champagne discreetly—no big fanfare to draw attention to the dark corner—and filled the two glasses.
Maggie leaned forward on her elbows, watching the bubbles as they caught the light and danced their way to the top. “It looks like some kind of magic potion.”
“It is.” Jeff picked up the two glasses and handed her one. His gaze was direct, his eyes soft. “Drinking this will wipe away all the bad times and help us remember only the good. Like Russ...and last night’s kiss.”
Maggie’s heart skipped a beat—apparently she wasn’t so numb, after all.
Jeff raised his glass as one of his eyebrows arched in both question and challenge.
Maggie tipped her glass, touching the edge to his. “To the good times—past and future.”
* * *
MAGGIE’S WORDS SENT an impact through Jeff that left a crater the size of Lake Michigan, which instantly filled with desire. The kiss last night had lit the fuse, and all day he’d been affected by the slow burn. He’d managed to throw the energy into his golf game, crushing the ball with his driver at each tee box, playing like he’d never played before.
But now, it was Maggie he wanted to crush...in the most tender of ways. But he couldn’t simply suggest they go up to one of their rooms and get it on, even if that was precisely what he wanted to do. This was a special night—the kind that came once in a lifetime. He would make it last.
The champagne truly was a magic elixir. He watched it bring a sparkle to Maggie’s eyes and a blush to her cheeks after just one glass. But when a girlish giggle bubbled out of her during one of his stories that wasn’t that funny, it gave him pause. Getting her drunk wasn’t the plan. This was a night to make memories—he wanted them both to remember it come tomorrow. He ordered a fruit-and-cheese plate to give them a reason to slow down the drinking.
While they waited for the food, the pianist broke into a jazzy swing tune. Dancing was one of the things they did together in college and were good at—second only to lovemaking. “Want to dance?” he asked, unsure if it was something she still enjoyed.
“Yes!” Her answer was nearly a squeal.
As they fell into the rhythm, the years fell away, and their bodies moved in perfect precision. They swung, they twirled, two hands clasped, then one hand and an underarm turn. Both of them anticipated the movements of the other as if the entire dance had been choreographed. Jeff was vaguely aware they were clearing the dance floor, but he didn’t let it stop them—tonight was all about the good times. Besides, he and Maggie had often done the same thing in college.
“Ready?” he asked as the song neared its end, and she nodded.
“Ready.”
He sent her into an impressive set of underarm twirls and prayed she didn’t get sick like s
he did that time at the frat house—their first clue she was pregnant. The last notes brought her tightly against him and he dipped her dramatically. The lounge went silent and then a hearty round of raucous applause exploded from every corner. To Jeff’s amazement—and slight embarrassment—the open passageways into the lobby had filled with onlookers as people had stopped to watch the impromptu show. With their arms around each other’s backs and a couple of waves to the crowd, they sauntered back to their table and anonymity, short of breath, panting and hanging on to each other for support.
“I haven’t danced like that in twenty years.” Maggie’s words were punctuated by gasps as she plopped onto the love seat, sliding over to make room for him.
“Me, neither.” The exertion from the dance had given him a momentary respite from the erection he’d sported most of the day, but Maggie’s breathless exclamation shifted it back into forward gear. He tried to ignore it as he poured them more champagne and relaxed against the back of his seat.
Maggie stacked some cheese onto a crostini and drizzled it with honey, then held it up in offering. Rather than taking it from her, he opened his mouth and she fed it to him. He closed his lips around the bite, deliberately catching the tips of her fingers in a small suck to gauge her response.
She didn’t flinch. Didn’t draw back. On the contrary, she allowed the tip of her middle finger to linger a fraction longer before dragging it down the middle of his bottom lip. Her lids drooped to half-mast, and she gave him a smoldering smile as she leaned back against one shoulder, her face and body turned slightly toward him.
His eyes dropped from hers to her mouth, mesmerized by the way her lips parted sensually, her tongue touching them, making them glisten in invitation.
He took a sip of champagne to wash away any of the lingering cracker, then leaned toward her, bringing his mouth to hers in answer. She left her hands as they were—one lying between them on the seat, the other relaxed in her lap. Her lips coaxed him deeper, parting for him, allowing small, sexually charged whimpers to escape, which sounded like both need and satisfaction.
And that kiss was just the beginning.
As they talked and laughed away the rest of the champagne, it was obvious that they both knew exactly how this magical night was going to end.
And so, during the last dance—a slow one that pressed her against him, making her aware of the effects she was having on his body—it came as no real surprise when she whispered to him, “Do you have condoms?”
“That’s a loaded question,” he whispered back, enjoying the way his breath on her neck caused her to shiver. “If I say no, where does that leave us? But if I say yes, it’s as good as admitting I went to the drugstore in anticipation of this after last night.”
Her cheek rested against his as her fingers played softly with the hair at the nape of his neck. “I hope the answer’s yes.”
“Then it’s yes.”
Her response was a contented sigh as she pressed her body closer to his.
CHAPTER SIX
KEY CARDS WERE such wonderful inventions. No fumbling with locks—just a smooth transition from outside to inside, public view to privacy...exes to intimates.
Somewhere deep in her mind, a voice screamed that she was making a huge mistake, allowing this man to crack the safe place she’d built to contain her feelings for him.
But she couldn’t hear the screaming over his soft murmurs when his mouth left hers for just a moment. They kissed long and hard, a frenzy of passion and excitement—as if there were no tomorrow.
Because, for them, there wasn’t.
Tomorrow wasn’t anything that needed to be discussed. Everything they desired had to be acted on tonight, then tucked away and forgotten.
Clothes came off hurriedly, amid giggles and kisses, and the condom package made its appearance. But just as she moved for the bed, seeking shelter under the covers, Jeff stopped her. “Not yet, Mags.” With his hands on her hips, he turned her to him. “I want to see you.”
His gentle tone and the way he nuzzled her neck eased her discomfort some, though not completely. He hadn’t seen her up close and personal in sixteen years. What would he think of her now? “I’m not twenty-one anymore,” she cautioned.
He tugged her hands away from where she’d positioned them across her breasts. “Neither am I.”
True, he’d added a few pounds—a thickness that only made him appear more solid. Her additional weight had become a soft roundness through the belly and hips that had been flat and tight, almost boyish, when last he’d seen them.
He guided her into the shaft of light that shone through the space where the drapes were slightly open. They stood for a while, naked amid the lights of the city, exchanging pleasant touches—he, using the backs of his fingers, she, smoothing her palms across his biceps and triceps, appreciating their toned definition. His caresses heightened the awareness of every nerve ending he touched.
“You don’t see how perfect you are.” His fingers brushed a path from her breasts to her neck and into her hair. He tilted her face up to meet his gaze. “Firm in the right places. Soft where you should be.” He covered her mouth with his in a scorching kiss, stealing the breath from her lungs.
The girl she’d been once upon a time stepped from her hiding place into the light. Beautiful. Cherished. Unlike Zeke, Jeff had never failed to make her feel that way in the bedroom, which was probably one reason it had taken so long to get over him.
But she had.
And now, here he was again.
This time the girl vanished as quickly as she’d appeared.
Maggie wasn’t someone who could be charmed into believing anything lasted forever. That girl had been replaced by a resilient woman who knew that some things lasted only one night. And those things had to be enjoyed when they offered themselves.
She consciously gave herself over to the moment, bringing her own heat to the kiss. An appreciative sound rose from the back of Jeff’s throat.
He backed up and sat on the end of the bed, breaking the kiss but running his hands over the soft mounds of her rear as he pulled her to stand between his parted legs.
His mouth, still hot from the kiss, burned a wet path across her stomach, pausing to let his tongue explore her navel, and then his lips moved upward to caress the underside of her breasts. He lifted them, kneading them gently as his tongue flicked along the crease.
It was a new touch for her, and she let her head fall back, mewing her pleasure, massaging his scalp with her fingertips, following his head anywhere he moved it.
His hands roamed her back while his mouth explored her front, sucking first one nipple then the other, making her ache in the most delicious way. As his mouth moved downward, she stepped back instinctively to give him access to other areas. He slid to his knees, flicking his tongue across her most sensitive spot, making her gasp in pleasure and thrust against him. But the urgency built up too quickly, became almost painful, and she stepped away suddenly.
Jeff’s head shot up, his dark eyes full of question.
“It’s been a long time for me. Not since Zeke.” She stopped. “Years.”
He stood and pressed against her. “What a waste of time.”
She smiled at the compliment, the ache between her legs lessening to bearable. This time, when she took his hand and led him to the bed, they lay down together, snuggling under the sheet. She intended to keep things slow. But after a few more deep kisses, his hands in constant exploration, growing bolder with each touch, she abandoned the plan, unable and unwilling to take responsibility for the actions of her body.
She guided his hand to where she needed him most, stroking him boldly to inflame him with the heat she felt until he finally admitted in a ragged breath, “Mags, I can’t take much more.”
She laughed. “Oh, thank God.”
He tore open the condom package he’d thrown on the pillow and made quick work of sheathing himself.
And then he hovered above her. The face she’d yearned to see for so long, positioned exactly where she’d fantasized it would be.
But this was no fantasy.
This was a chance to end things better than they had the first time.
* * *
MAGGIE WAS GAZING into his eyes, and damn if she wasn’t chewing her bottom lip!
At this point, sixteen years ago, he would’ve ignored the nuance. His rocket would have been fueled, loaded and ready for blastoff.
He lowered his mouth to hers, catching her bottom lip when her teeth freed it from their grip, then proceeded to nibble and suck on it himself. He felt her position shift slightly, readying for his entry. Then he watched her eyes widen in surprise when he shifted, too...away from the expected.
His lips caressed her neck before traveling to her breasts, devouring each one in turn. Then he continued down the middle of her stomach, across her navel, to the juncture of her thighs. Then lower.
Her gasps of pleasure as she raised her hips to meet him were almost his undoing, but he breathed through the initial panic and retained his control.
Lower he went, his tongue gliding along the inside of her thigh. He paused at her knee, lifting her leg just enough to flick his tongue across the crease at the back. Her pleasurable groan encouraged him to continue. She reached for him but could only graze the top of his head with her fingertips as he moved lower still.
He changed his course slightly, moving to the outside of her calf, skimming his tongue along the indentation of the muscle from the knee to the ankle. He covered her entire foot with kisses, sucked her high arch and each of her toes, before switching to the other foot and repeating the entire process on the other leg.
By the time he returned to the intimate V between her legs, she was panting, clutching the sheets tightly in her fists and thrusting toward him with a body language message he couldn’t ignore.
My Way Back to You (Harlequin Large Print Super Romance) Page 6
