For Maggie's Sake by Lora Leigh
"Craig is still dealing with what happened with Grant." Hell, so was he. Out of a four-man team, only he and Craig were left. They were both still aching with the grief over Lyons's loss, as well as Grant's betrayal.
"Aren't we all?" Her painful comment had him grimacing in regret.
"It's a lesson learned," he sighed. "I trusted Grant to the point that I never ran the required security checks on him, and I pushed back doubt when I should have followed through with it. It's a mistake I won't make again."
She still didn't face him. God, he hoped she wasn't crying. He didn't think he could handle Maggie's tears; they would break his heart.
"I should have protected you better," he finally said, his voice rough with his guilt. "I was so damned jealous of what I thought he had with you that I couldn't bear coming around. If I had, I would have known something was wrong."
"So you're just going to take the blame for my marriage as well?" Her vibrant red hair rippled over her shoulders as she shook her head. "You're a glutton for punishment, Joe. And you're wrong. I would have never let you see the nightmare that marriage had turned into. I couldn't have borne it."
She sat her cup down then turned to him slowly, crossing her arms over her breasts as she stared back at him, sorrow shimmering in her eyes.
A weary smile edged his lips. "I would have known, Maggie." He would have seen it in her eyes. She wasn't a liar. Her emotions were always so clear in her eyes, so easy to read, that he had always been able to stay one step ahead of her in their previous relationship. "I would have known and I would have gone crazy with it."
"Because you loved me?" The doubt in her voice was clear.
"Because I loved you, because I've always loved you," he amended. "Because no matter how hard I've tried, you were a part of me. I knew, without seeing you, that something was wrong. For two years I avoided that house and I avoided you, and that's not like me. And I couldn't understand why I avoided it. I think a part of me always knew."
Admitting that was like cutting out his own heart. He had let her down in a way so fundamental that it ached through ever portion of his being. It was bad enough that he had let her go, but he hadn't made certain she was safe.
"Grant was very good at his lies," she whispered, rubbing her hands over her arms as though to ward off a chill. "He fooled us both."
Yes, he had, and Joe would never forget that lesson. It didn't mean he was going to let Maggie pay any more than she already had.
"Maggie, have I ever taken you on a kitchen table?" The need to have her was growing by the second.
Her eyes widened in shock, as though the change in subject had come too quickly for her to process. "Do what?"
He moved closer, his hands going to the snap of her jeans, as her fingers curled over his wrists in surprised reflex.
"Have I ever fucked you on a kitchen table?" He lowered his voice, watching the small shiver that raced over her body at the sound of it.
Maggie was a sensualist. Taste, touch, the sounds of arousal, turned her on as much as the act itself.
As he slid the metal button of her jeans free, her eyes darkened further and a flush filled her face. Her lashes swept over her eyes as her gaze became drowsy, hungry, and suspicious.
"Sex doesn't solve everything." Her breathing was rough, causing her breasts to rise and fall in quick little movements.
Hard little nipples pressed beneath the cloth, and Joe's mouth watered to taste them. She had the softest, sweetest flesh, and the hardest nipples he had ever taken into his mouth.
"Sex doesn't solve everything, but it can sure as hell make life sweeter." He laid his forehead against hers as he slid the zipper to her jeans down. "I trusted Grant with your life once," he whispered, staring into her eyes, giving her the truth of himself, as she had always given him the truth of who and what she was. "I'll never trust another man to protect what belongs to me, or to hold what is mine to hold, Maggie. You taught me to trust you in a way Grant never did. With your heart and your soul, long before I ever learned of his betrayal."
It was the most basic truth that he knew how to give her. Two and a half years ago she had walked away from him rather than staying in half a relationship and hiding what she felt, as he had been content to do. She had broken away and tried to go on, tried
to live without him. Any woman greedy enough to involve herself with Grant's schemes would have never done such a thing, especially considering the cushy little life he offered her as his mistress. And he had made the offer, exactly four hours before he arrived at that party with another woman on his arm.
She had shown him then what she was. Who she was. A woman willing to walk away from what she wanted most, rather than to lower herself to meet the selfish needs of someone else.
"You didn't believe me at the station," she reminded him, though her voice broke as his hands pushed beneath her T-shirt. "I could see it in your eyes, Joe. And after we came here . . ."
"I didn't believe in me, Maggie." He lifted the shirt along her smooth stomach, over her breasts and finally leaned back to pull it from her. "It was never you I doubted. Every instinct inside me pushed me to get you the hell out of there. It was me I doubted. For a little while."
She wore a lacy white bra that did nothing to hide the swollen mounds of her breasts, or the spiked tips of her nipples.
"Have I mentioned I love your nipples?" He released the catch between her breasts before peeling the cups back from the rapidly rising and falling mounds.
"Not in a while." She was panting now. He loved it when she panted for him. "We need to discuss things, Joe. Not have sex."
"Hmm, I'll have to remember to mention that. And nothing else matters Maggie, not right now. The rest we'll deal with as we have to."
He lowered his head, licking over one straining tip with a slow, wet glide of his tongue, as he heard the tremulous gasp that left her lips.
That was how he liked her, soft and melting in his arms, those strangled little gasps falling from her lips as pleasure began to overwhelm her. Words would never convince her at this point that he trusted her. That trust would have to come in time, and he understood that. He expected it. But that didn't mean he couldn't edge the odds in his own favor. Her body knew what her mind hadn't yet accepted. She belonged to him just as surely as he belonged to her.
"Joe, are you sure?" Her short nails were digging into his wrists, her gaze worried, but growing hotter by the second.
"More certain than I've been of anything, baby." He laid his hand on her lower stomach, watching her closely. "Certain enough to want more with you than I have ever wanted with anyone else."
He didn't give her time to answer, or time to protest. He had never known anything as sweet or as erotic as loving Maggie. She was like a drug in his system; one he had no hope of breaking his addiction to. And God knew he had tried.
He had fought the arousal, the need and his belief in her for nearly a week. And even as he fought it, he had known it was a losing battle. Just as he had known as he watched her interrogation through that two-way mirror.
His lips covered hers as he drew in the sobbing response to his declaration, his tongue tasting the sweetness of her passion as he pushed the bra from her shoulders before moving to her jeans.
He wanted her naked. Naked and open for him, welcoming him with all the sweet, generous fire that was so much a part of her.
Clothes were ripped, torn, pushed at, and pulled off until only bare flesh met eager hands and muted moans met open-mouthed kisses that filled the senses with an aroused, imperative demand.
Hunger arced through Joe's mind as Maggie's hand attempted to wrap around the base of his cock. Her fingers didn't quite meet, but that didn't detract from the sheer pleasure of her touch.
As always, nothing mattered except pushing inside her, taking her, feeling her orgasm pulsing around him. He didn't bother with the bed or the floor. His hands moved to her buttocks and he lifted her and bore her to the table.
Maggi
She felt the cool wood of the table meet her back as Joe came over her. He didn't bother with keeping his feet on the floor, instead, he clambered to the tabletop after her, knees bent, his hips thrusting against her, driving the hard wedge of his cock deep into the fiery heat between her thighs.
There was little grace to the act, even less finesse. The clawing hunger, fear, and desperation that spurred their passion allowed for only the most primitive response. She felt the fierce width of his erection sear the tender tissue of her vagina, and arched closer. The fiery pleasure/pain whipped through her nerve endings, ricocheting through tissue and muscle until every cell of her body was focused on one point only. The penetration of her body, the hard, fierce thrusts of his cock inside her, and the fiery sensation tightening her womb with every thrust.
Orgasm was imperative. With each stroke he threw her higher, seemed to go deeper, until every sense she possessed became focused on the steady impalement.
Perspiration gathered between their bodies, creating an exciting friction as they slid against one another. The building heat between their bodies had them both panting for air, forced to break off" the kiss that had consumed them as they fought for breath.
Maggie struggled to open her eyes, staring up at Joe as his hands gripped her hips to hold her in place and the strokes pistoning his cock into her vagina increased. The cords in his neck stood out in sharp relief as the tendons of his arms and chest rippled with power.
He was as out of control now, as he had been earlier that morning. As though once lost, the power to hold himself distant, in this area at least, was gone forever.
The ability to think receded as he whispered her name, his eyes opening, his gaze spearing hers.
"I love you, Maggie." The words were torn from him, ripped from his chest in a growling, harsh sound that spiked through her womb and sent her release crashing through her.
Maggie felt the involuntary arching of her back as the wave of sensation tore through her with pleasure that bordered on violent. It exploded through every nerve ending in her body and sent convulsions crashing through her womb, as her pussy began to milk desperately at his cock. Nothing mattered but the pinnacle of pleasure, the sweeping completion she had only found in this man's arms, and a love she knew she could never survive without. Not intact. Not completely. She would live, but without Joe, Maggie knew her soul would never breathe.
In that moment, as she felt him surge inside her one last time before his own release began to spurt heatedly inside her to join her own, Maggie knew that never again could she hope for love outside of Joe's arms. Because to her heart, her soul, Joe was love. He was life.
Chapter Ten
The drive from the cabin to Atlanta was made after dark, and to Maggie it seemed as though it had taken a lifetime to accomplish. Each mile crept by despite Joe's steady speed and his attempts at a conversation. Maggie wanted nothing more than to get to his house, to check the car, and to get the hell out of there.
As Joe pulled slowly into the alley behind the two-story older home, Maggie glanced over at him nervously. She had seen the house before, though Joe rarely stayed at it, preferring the apartment he kept farther in town. The house had belonged to his father's parents, and had been their home before his grandfather struck it rich in various business enterprises.
The siding was rough wood, though in perfect condition, and sheltered by a wide front porch that gave it a charm and elegance that had always attracted Maggie. The garage that housed Joe's prized Mustang was attached to the back of the house rather than the side, and led into a large, homey kitchen.
Joe pulled the SUV into the back driveway and sat for several moments, the engine idling as he stared at the garage doors.
"Grant had a key to the garage." He ran his hand wearily over his face.
They had napped for several hours before leaving, and though lie didn't look tired, he did appear weary. Much as she felt, Maggie thought. After two years of a hellish marriage to Grant, and then the past week of knowing the danger her life was in, she felt exhausted inside.
"Did he have a key to the house?" She turned back to the garage, staring at the darkened windows as her heart raced in her chest.
"No. Just the garage." He turned off the ignition but made no move to leave the vehicle.
They had driven around the block several times over the past hour. Joe had parked across from the house for what seemed like forever, before driving around again and heading for the back drive.
"Do you think someone is watching the house?" she asked, as he continued to watch the shadows.
"I have no doubt," he sighed. "If they tracked who I am, and I'm going to assume they have. As often as Grant railed about me in his journals, I'm certain he would have carried the bitch over to his new friends." The bitterness in his voice had her heart clenching in pain.
"What do we do then? How do we get in there without being seen?
" We don't do anything . . ."
"I'm not staying in the vehicle, Joe." She shook her head fiercely at the thought. "It would be too easy for someone to get the jump on me."
"Leave the doors locked."
"If they had a gun to your head I'd unlock them." Her nerves were about to choke her.
He breathed in roughly. "Okay, we'll go in together, but stay on my ass and be ready to move. You jump when I say jump, don't bother asking how high."
Her lips twitched at the follow-up order.
"Don't ask how high. Got it." She nodded firmly.
"And carry this." He opened the glove box, reached in, and pulled out a small revolver. "I know you know how to use it."
Of course, she did—he had made certain she took firearms lessons the minute they had begun seeing each other years before.
"A woman's best friend." She gripped the weapon firmly.
"I thought that was diamonds?" he quipped as he scanned the area again.
"What do you think protects the diamonds?" she shot back, fighting to steady her nerves, to find at least a small measure of the calm he was displaying.
"The area is pretty sheltered here with the trees." He pointed out the large trunks of the oaks growing between his property and the houses on each side. "We should be secure as we move to the garage. Keep your ears open and stay ready, Maggie."
He reached beneath the dash, disabled the interior lights, then opened the door slowly and eased out of the vehicle. As he stood to the side, Maggie scrambled out after him, easing behind him as he pushed the door closed silently.
They moved quickly to the garage, where Joe unlocked the side door and opened it carefully before pulling her along with him.
The air in the garage was stale, rife with the scents of motor oil, a hint of paint and old grease. Maggie wrinkled her nose at the smell as her eyes struggled to adjust to the near pitch-black darkness.
A second later a small beam of light pierced the black surroundings, directing low, and angling toward the cherry red '69 Mustang Joe pampered like a baby.
"Hello, baby," he murmured as he walked to the car, patting the hood affectionately.
Maggie rolled her eyes.
"It's not a baby, Joe," she reminded him as she restrained her grin. It was an old argument, and one of the few she often instigated herself.
" 'Course she is," he sighed, as his hand slid over the hood before releasing the lock and raising it slowly.
The penlight beam moved slowly over the engine, as Joe leaned in, checking around it and inside the fender walls.
"Finding parts for her was a bitch," he said softly. "There are very few original parts left for this model. She's a true classic."
Yeah, yeah yeah, Maggie smirked. Joe was doing more than just checking for whatever Grant may have hidden, he was petting and car
"Do I need to leave the two of you alone?" she asked, keeping her voice at a whisper as he ran his fingers in and out of the maze of parts that made up the engine.
"You might want to look the other way," he murmured. "She gets embarrassed if others see her naked like this."
Maggie rolled her eyes.
Finally, he straightened from the motor with a sigh before lowering the hood back into place.
"Nothing in there." There was an edge of relief in his voice as he moved along the side of the car.
His hand smoothed over the top before trailing down the door and gripping the handle. "Do you know how hard it was to find completely original parts? How many years I spent putting her together perfectly?"