two hands around her face, caressing her jaw. Immediately she could feel her body responding, sinking, craving…She looked up helplessly.
‘Maggie…just…don’t try to figure me out. I don’t need that. All I need is you…’ he looked to her mouth ‘…this.’
He bent his head and met her lips with his, kissing, drawing in her full bottom lip, tugging and teasing before sliding his tongue in to delve deep and stroke hers. Her arms moved around his waist and clung, hands moving unconsciously over his shirt. She guessed it was an apology of sorts. But he was also saying that he didn’t need anything from her, not her opinions, not her thoughts, not her concern…certainly not her heart. And, while he kissed her, she could forget that…but when he stopped, she knew the pain would filter through. So, in an effort to avoid that, she kissed him back, hoping, wishing that he’d never stop. She craved the contact that would obliterate her churning thoughts.
He pulled back. Looking down, he could see Maggie’s eyes still closed and her lips full and pouting. He groaned. She opened her eyes. They looked slumberous. She looked down to his mouth.
‘Don’t stop…’ There was something desperate in her voice.
Reaching up on tiptoe, she brought Caleb’s head down again; she couldn’t reach, she was so much smaller and her mouth hovered inches away, like a succulent fruit. When she said again, ‘Please…don’t stop,’ it lit a flame of desire so strong that he couldn’t resist and he lifted her up, sitting her on the island in the kitchen.
Coming between her legs, he cupped her face again, kissing her long and deeply. He could feel her hands resting on his chest, then the fingers move to open the buttons of his shirt, slipping inside to caress his skin. It made a tremor of intense longing surge through him.
He pulled up her sweater, taking it off completely, and her breasts were bare, pert and pink with arousal; he cupped one and ran a thumb over and back over the peak. Her head fell back with the sensation and then he took it into his hot mouth, rolling it, sucking. Maggie was gasping, her hair damp against her back. When he lifted his head finally, she tried to open his shirt the rest of the way but her hands were shaking too much. Caleb’s hands took hers away. ‘Let me…’
He opened his shirt and Maggie felt the ache growing between her legs. She wriggled on the island and Caleb threw his shirt aside, pulling her against him and running his hands over her back, his mouth on her neck, her shoulder. Her blood was thumping, pumping out of control. She wanted him…now. She wasn’t aware that she’d even said the words out loud until she heard, ‘Really? You want me here? Now?’
She couldn’t believe they were still in the kitchen, that she’d been so bold, that she’d begged him to kiss her, take her, but it was too late. And she knew she was blocking out something…some hurt.
Coward.
She nodded jerkily, glad to see that, despite his cool, rational words, he was breathing fast too, his eyes dark and pupils dilated. His hand went to her jeans and she lifted her hips so he could pull them off.
Her eyes followed his hands as they undid his belt and it snaked through the loops on his trousers just below his taut stomach. She breathed in, her stomach tight with desire, slid off the island and opened the button on his trousers herself, pressing kisses to his chest, finding a nipple, biting gently.
His hand captured her head and she heard a whistle of breath escape through his teeth. ‘Maggie, Maggie, what are you doing to me?’
He stilled her hand and picked her up, carrying her into the bedroom. He placed her down on the bed and stripped off his trousers and briefs. Then he pulled her panties down, over her hips and off. Invaded by a wanton, hitherto unexplored need, she instinctively arched her back, her hips rising to meet him as he spread her legs with his thigh. He leant back for a second and, getting protection, rolled it on, then he pressed down, close over her whole body and thrust in, so completely and deeply that she cried out. The spiral of ecstasy finally obliterated all coherent, troubling thoughts. Just as she’d wished and hoped for.
‘More wine?’
Maggie shook her head and placed a hand over her glass. She was still finding it hard to meet Caleb’s eyes. An hour after dinner had been ready, they were eating.
And all because…all because…
Maggie wished the ground would just open up and let her disappear. She had begged him to kiss her, not to stop. She had practically ripped his clothes off him. She had initiated an act of lovemaking that had combusted around them like a white-hot flame. She’d been half naked in the kitchen. An awful mortification twisted her insides.
He’d taken her hard and fast and so totally that she still felt dizzy. And she knew it had been motivated purely by her desire to avoid being faced with his indifference to her feelings—feelings she wasn’t ready to acknowledge. That was a route to self-destruction if ever there was one.
‘Maggie?’
Reluctantly, she forced herself to meet his gaze.
‘Do you want to tell me what’s causing that pained expression on your face? Or will I just assume it was my cooking?’
Her gaze slipped away, then back. Of course he’d be used to his mistresses taking the initiative; they’d no doubt be far more experienced than her in the ways of lovemaking to keep a man like Caleb happy. In contrast to her inner agitation, he seemed to think nothing out of the ordinary had just happened. She forced a bland, cool look and smiled. ‘Nothing, and your chicken was…delicious.’
It had been sublime, cooked to perfection. And would have been even better had they eaten it when it had been ready. That thought made her cringe inwardly again.
‘Flattery?’ he mocked with a raised brow. ‘Trying to throw me off the scent of something, Maggie?’
She couldn’t be that transparent, could she? She could feel a red tide ascending.
‘Your blushes make you as easy to read as a book.’
A sudden pain gripped her. Thank God he thought he had her so well sized up that every time she blushed it meant the opposite to what she was really feeling. But the pain struck sharp. She got up to clear away the plates. When she came back in, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her down into his lap.
‘What?’ Why did she have to sound so breathless? And why was her body coming to vibrant life so easily? Traitor.
‘I’ve got a surprise for you…You didn’t spot anything outside when you came back?’
Maggie shook her head. Where was this going?
‘I wanted to show you earlier, but then you were so late…and we got distracted.’
He felt Maggie tense against his body. She was such a mass of contradictions. Making love to him with an intensity and passion he’d never encountered, only to spend the next hour avoiding his eyes. He was used to having to firmly extricate himself from cloying embraces after making love and with Maggie…she was the complete opposite, couldn’t wait to get away from him. And, for the first time, he actually felt a little…piqued.
But then she was nothing but a heartless, mercenary…he wanted to say bitch, but it felt wrong. He couldn’t actually say the word, even in his head. In an effort to avoid thinking about it, he stood abruptly, taking
