She slammed the door shut on him.
A few minutes later she stood in front of the bathroom mirror. Though she was covered head to foot, the silky contraption left very little to the imagination.
Why on earth couldn’t she wear something sensible?
You wanted to live. So try it!
She couldn’t go back out there in just this peach colored bit of silk and lace. With her nerves getting the better of her, she donned the bathrobe.
Clayton sat where she’d left him, though his drink was now empty. He turned to her, eyes burning bright almost. “I’ll leave you for a few minutes.”
Maggie’s mouth trembled. “You don’t have to, just turn out the light.”
He cocked a brow, but offered a sharp nod, switched the light off, plunging the room into an eerie darkness lit only by the dim glow from the streetlights below.
He headed to the bathroom and closed the door behind him. At the sound of it closing, Maggie quickly shucked off the bathrobe and scampered into bed. The silk of the nightgown and the crisp white cotton sheets were cool against her skin.
So how come she was raging hot?
She stifled a groan. What was she going to do? Clayton Abbott was her employer, and yet...
He kissed you.
And she had kissed him back. And wanted to repeat it.
And yet she had felt his rejection just now, too.
At a loss of what to do, but hearing the bathroom door opening, she quickly shut her eyes, rolled onto her left side and buried herself beneath the covers as best she could.
Though he uttered not a word, Maggie could feel his presence, a radiating awareness that etched itself across every inch of her skin. She could smell the cologne that was purely Clayton, though there was nothing pure about the scandalous thoughts racing around her brain.
Tonight everything was different and the air around them crackled with a tension that had, in truth, been building since the day she’d walked into Bellerose.
He eased onto the bed, and her breathing stalled. She continued to feign sleep.
This is my life. Be strong.
Suddenly, she knew what she wanted and pushed back the covers and turned to face Clayton. She opened her eyes to meet his.
He was a beautiful man. Not just handsome, with his dark hair and eyes the color of those precious Bellerose gems, but there was something inside the man that drew her as if a moth to a flame.
His hair was slightly damp at the ends and a tendril had fallen across his forehead. Her lips parted, and a soft breath fluttered over her lips. “Clayton.”
“Yes, Maggie.”
“The other day when you...we kissed.”
“Yes?”
Maggie heard the heavy tension in his voice.
No turning back.
Losing everything had made her strong. Bold.
She licked the tip of her tongue over her dry mouth. “Did you like it?”
“I did. Very much so.”
“Would you like to do it again?”
Her breath hitched, as she caught his hesitation. Oh, my God, had she gone too far? She’d made a bloody fool of herself. She squeezed her eyes closed, mortified at her stupidity.
“Now?”
Her eyes flashed open.
Very definitely.
“If you would like to.”
“You need to ask?” Clayton deftly drew her into his arms, wrapping her close to him. She felt the thunder of his heartbeat and smiled. It matched hers.
“I would definitely like to kiss you, but...”
She put a fingertip to his parted lips and felt the brush of his warm breath as he exhaled. “No buts.”
“Not on my account, that’s for sure, dear sweet, Maggie, but there is a “but” you must consider.”
“Which is?”
“If I kiss you I may not be able to stop, but…” His gaze roamed her length and Maggie swallowed back the excitement that stirred.
“Be warned, Maggie, I cannot offer you any more than this.”
“I’m not asking.”
“Never, Maggie.”
Exactly. I should turn around and leave.
But she wouldn’t. Couldn’t. She offered a tentative smile, and even though she was determined to not turn back, she could not deny the tiny warning voice in her head.
She ignored it.
“Tomorrow does not matter. Only now. Tonight.” Bolder by the second, Maggie reached up to him and drew her mouth across his.
A heavy breath purged from his lungs and his hold on her tightened. “Dear, sweet, Maggie.” He drew her fully to him, his body caressing hers, wrapping his arms around her, fingers tangling in her nape and her still damp hair. “So lush.”
“Wet,” she said teasingly.
“Most definitely. Like your lips, sweet beneath mine.” He deepened their kiss, taking fully from her all she could give him, the tip of his tongue circling her mouth.
Her mouth opened to him and he sought entrance to that damp recess, tangling his tongue with hers.
“So sweet.”
Delicious.
She wanted more and pressed her palms to his chest, feeling his rapid heartbeat.
He kissed her mouth, her cheeks, and the delicate edge of her temple and back down the curve of her cheek, his tongue teasing a path just below her ear.
A bubble of laughter burst from her lips.
“You find my kisses humorous?”
“Most definitely.”
“And this.” He blew a warm spot on her neck followed by a gentle kiss.
A shiver shimmied down her spine and instinctively she pressed harder against him.
He reached between them and caressed her left breast. The nipple hardened, her breast feeling swollen, as if it would burst from such pleasure.
She looked up into his eyes. His beautiful green eyes, so deliciously dark and smoldering they sent an exquisite tickle right to her core. Reaching up between them, she brushed a strand of his hair from his forehead, trailing the tip of a finger down his temple, along the ridge of scar tissue.
For a heartbeat he hesitated. “Maggie?”
“No, Clayton. This is tonight, remember? Just tonight. Don’t stop.”
His mouth claimed hers in a kiss that took her breath away; enveloping her in a moment she knew she would never ever forget.
He kissed her and then kissed her some more until they were both breathless and had to come up for air. He gasped, dragging in oxygen, and then slipping the straps of her nightgown down her arms; he nuzzled at her nipple, suckling the bud.
Dear Lord. Her head fell back.
She was no ignorant ingénue, but she had not expected this. Toby’s kisses had been sweet and tender while Clayton’s kisses tipped her over into a place of no return and she felt as if she were careening toward a delicious precipice.
Her skin prickled as cool air washed across and her gown slipped farther down.
He cupped each breast, fingering the buds and then laving his tongue across her heated flesh.
The muscles in her stomach clenched and she became ever more aware of her own arousal, her core so wet with want.
Be bold.
She reached up and wrapped her hands around his neck, fingers sliding through his hair, and then grabbing hold of that internal boldness, she drew him with her.
He came willingly, his kisses drowning her in desire. Tossing back the bed covers, his length covered hers. He slipped her gown down over her hips.
Be bold.
She pushed it off.
She was naked. “You’re dressed.” Again her brazenness surprised her.
“Easily remedied.” Levering himself from the bed, Clayton quickly divested himself of his clothing, tossing them to where hers lay.
The moment gave Maggie time to study the man.
Lean of hip and broad shouldered, with sinewy muscles across his biceps and torso, he stood proud and Adonis-like, his manhood erect. Though it was not the first time she had seen a man’s genitals, nev
er before had she witnessed such a state. Her blush was instant, though it did not diminish the burgeoning excitement spiraling within.
He rejoined her on the bed and a sigh slid from her lips, any inner doubts disappearing the moment his beautiful naked body touched hers.
“You are tired, sweet Maggie?”
“Never.”
“Good. I would not want to bore you.”
She laughed at that. “Are you fishing for a compliment, Clayton Abbott?”
“The only thing I want right now is your delicious body.” He kissed her while his hands roamed all over her, every touch and nuance a new experience that sent her climbing to reach for something unimaginable.
He skimmed a hand across her stomach and despite her arousal, she stilled.
Clayton arched back, and searched her face. “I will, and can, stop if you want me to.”
Did she?
Live, Maggie. Live.
“Don’t you dare!”
His relieved chuckle reverberated around the room. “Glad you said that.” His hand slipped to the junction between her thighs and automatically her legs parted as he delved in that sweet recess of womanhood.
“So ready for me.”
“Am I? I don’t quite understand these words of lovemaking, but I know what I feel.”
“And what’s that?” Although he questioned her, Clayton didn’t stop his delicious ministrations, inserting one finger, then two inside her, sliding across the silky folds.
“There is an exquisite sensation and you stir a yearning, but I cannot just quite reach its crest.”
“That is because the best is yet to come.”
“Even better than your kisses?”
“Most definitely. Think of my kisses as an appetizer.” He dotted a kiss on the tip of her nose, and then slid down the length of her.
Maggie’s eyes widened, shocked at what he was doing. She struggled upwards and pressed her legs together. “You cannot look...look at me...down there, like that.”
“But it is beautiful. You are beautiful.” He gently parted her thighs and leaned into her, laving his tongue across her folds.
Oh, dear God. Maggie sank back onto the mattress as a ripple of excitement took over.
He glanced up at her, a conceited smile on his face. “You like?”
Maggie fisted the sheets, trying to hold onto something, uncertain exactly what that something was. “And if I told you I didn’t.”
“Then I would say you are lying and perhaps you do not want me to continue.”
The thought of not having him touch her like that, down there, Maggie knew she would live to regret. “Whatever gave you that idea?”
Lost to lustful thoughts of Clayton, his touch and what his beautiful mouth and his fingers were doing to her, Maggie closed her eyes, melting with wonder.
Then suddenly it all changed and that thing she craved, that moment, a pinnacle not quite yet reached, came flooding through in one almighty rush of heat and a delicious wave of erotic beauty. Its intensity overrode everything, her heart seeming to stop beating. “Oh, Clayton. It’s...”
“Beautiful.”
It was. It was...everything. Beautiful. Wonderful. Perfect.
Reaching an arm around his neck, she drew him close and whispered in his ear. “Thank you.”
His smile was broad. “There’s more.” He kissed her again, the taste of her on his lips now joined with his, and then he parted her thighs with a gentle nudge. “It is your first time?” She nodded, suddenly embarrassed.
“It can hurt.”
She silenced him with a kiss. “But worth it.”
Taking his weight on his forearms, he slid into her slowly, easing his fullness as best he could so that he did not hurt her.
“Don’t stop.”
“Are you sure?”
“Most definitely. Fill me, please.”
Maggie lifted her hips to his thrust, sucking in a deep breath at the slight pain. It eased in an instant and she gripped him with her legs, glorying in this coming together. It was a moment of such encompassing joy and beauty. Oh, such joy.
Her body convulsed around him, but better, much better because this time, a heartbeat later, his seed plunged into her.
“Oh, Maggie.”
She kissed him. Kissed him with all that she had in her heart, until she collapsed back on the bed, Clayton joining her, their hearts beating as one.
A short while later, as his breathing eased, Clayton drew away and lay on his back. “Maggie?”
She knew instantly what he was going to ask. “No, Clayton. I do not have any regrets.”
For a minute or two he was silent and she could not help but wonder if perhaps it was he who had regrets, or worse, if he now thought of her as wanton for being so brazen.
Then he turned to her, his smile shadowed by the cloud-covered moon. He looked so handsome. So beautiful. “I’m glad, for I do not think that one such sampling of your delights would ever be enough.”
Her heart fluttered. “Such eloquence.”
He chuckled at that. “It’s highly surprising I can utter a sensible syllable right now.”
She trailed the tip of her finger along his scar, to the corner of mouth and over the seam of his lips. “Oh, dear. Have I worn you out?”
“Why you...” He cupped her bottom and pulled her to him.
She straddled him and his arousal edged her core. A sense of mischief took hold and she circled his arousal. The skin was smooth, a silk and velvet texture at the same time. She slid her still pulsing womanhood over the tip of him. Back and forwards. Over and over.
His eyes darkened, and a heat stained his cheeks. “You’re teasing me, sweet Maggie.”
“I know.”
“You know what will happen if you continue.”
His Adam’s apple bulged. “You might be too sore.” His voice was quiet but she did not miss the hint of desperate need in his words.
“What’s a little pain between friends?” She leaned forward and grazed her hands across his chest, delighting in the feel of his wiry hair beneath her fingertips. Trailing a path across each rib, she blew a draft of breath down the length of his torso.
He gasped, body stiffening. “Maggie?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know what you’re doing to me?”
She smiled. “Oh, I think so.” She bent forward and kissed his mouth. His beautiful sensual mouth that elicited such pleasure, and still tasted of her.
Drawing away, she lifted herself slightly above his arousal, and then plunged down on him, taking the full length of him inside her.
He gasped, his breath captured as she kissed him hard, demanding everything he could give her. His hands on either side of her guided her to a rhythm that could not be contained.
Harder. Faster. Then that delicious moment where they were finally, thankfully joined in union. At last.
Breathless, Maggie lay the length of him, enveloped in a warm glow as he wrapped his arms around her.
“I do declare you just might wear me out.”
“Would you like me to tuck you in, old man?”
“Don’t you dare move. I’ve got you exactly where I want you.” He rolled her from him and then, spooned her against him.
A sigh rolled off her chest and she hugged his arms about her. Never had she thought of a moment such as this. Or dared dreamed of it. She felt cared for. Loved.
Loved?
Her eyes fluttered closed. This was the most delicious way to go to sleep. Wrapped in the arms of the man she loved.
Loved!
Her eyes shot open, every inch of her instantly alert, rigid.
“Maggie, is everything all right?”
All right?
It couldn’t be...better...worse...or more confusing.
Love wasn’t meant to happen. He’d already told her he could not offer her any more than this. Just tonight, she’d said. Now what?
In the morning she would tell him she loved him.
&
nbsp; Chapter Eighteen
The dream returned; a conglomeration of words rolling in front of his eyes. Black on white. Scrambled.
A voice echoed in his brain. No honor among thieves, sir.
Over and over he tried to make sense of it, but failed, his frustration finally overtaken by fear, disbelief and betrayal, escalating until he could no longer contain it.
Clayton bolted upright and scrubbed his hands across his eyes. Sweat soaked his body and his thirst was that of a man bound by nothing but the desert.
Then he realized where he was. In bed…with Maggie, and the nightmare evaporated in an instant.
Without thinking Clayton fingered the welts on his cheek.
Bloody hell! What had he done?
He knew exactly what. Given in to lust. Given into the need for her. Given in, overtaken by joy and desire and his need for her. A need that in the first light of dawn had not diminished.
But it has to.
Shit! Making love to Maggie had been a mistake. A big one.
He tipped the bed covers back, only to hear Maggie’s sleepy murmur. “Clayton?”
He couldn’t face her. “Go back to sleep, Maggie.”
“But l thought.”
“For God’s sake, Maggie. Just leave it.” Leave me, don’t tempt me, and don’t break me down.
“I told you last night I could not offer you anything more than this. A night, that’s all.”
Maggie shuffled up the bed. She caught his gaze staring at her nakedness, and she jerked the covers up over her. “I did not ask for more.”
Clayton reached for his trousers and shoved them on. “Yet.”
“What? Have I asked for more?”
She hadn’t. Yet. But he could not do that to her. She deserved more. More than what he could offer her. More than a mangled man who must hide from the world.
“Women always want more. You might say, in the heat of the moment, you would accept what I offered, but for how long? How long…before.”
He thrust his arms into his shirt, fingers shaking as he tried to do up the buttons.
He gave up.
“I do not want your sympathy kisses, your caresses that tease me into thinking that I am normal. I am not. You may pretend all you like that this face does not offend you, but I see people’s looks. I cannot force the life I live on you, for eventually you will learn to hate it. Hate me.” Just as he hated himself?
Saving the Soldier's Heart (The Emerald Quest Book 2) Page 19
