Maggie watched as Michael was unceremoniously tossed into the back of the Hummer and they sped off. Only then did she consider what was in her hand.
It was a small envelope with a satiny feel and intricate embossing of pearl and gold. With shaking fingers, she lifted the flap and pulled out a small card with a matching design.
You are cordially invited
to attend the wedding of
Ian Patrick Callaghan
and
Alexis Cassandra Kattapoulos
to be held
Saturday, the 27th of February
St. Patrick’s Roman Catholic Church
1:00pm
Reception immediately following,
Celtic Goddess, Grand Ballroom
––––––––
Maggie’s jaw dropped as she re-read the contents several times.
Well, damn.
Chapter Thirteen
“I can’t.”
Maggie lay beside Michael, her back to his front, in front of the blazing fire. Michael had brought food, and flowers, and wine, professing his intent to spend a nice, romantic evening together before climbing into bed. But two days without seeing or touching each other had taken its toll. She had the door open for him before he even got out of his truck. A few steps into the house and she was in his arms, all soft and yielding, and everything else was forgotten.
“Why not?” Michael trailed light, moist kisses along her shoulder while one hand stroked her belly possessively.
“How many reasons do you want?” She placed her hand over his, relishing his touch, every skillful stroke that soothed and excited her at the same time. When Michael touched her, her body’s response was immediate, arching shamelessly for more. Her insides still ached slightly from his thorough and branding lovemaking, but it was a good ache, made all that much sweeter by the feeling of fullness that came from him emptying deep within her. She never would have imagined just how good that could feel, but now she craved it.
“I’m a reasonable man. One good one should do it.”
She took a deep breath. “Well, for starters, I don’t even know them.”
“You’ve met Ian twice.”
“Technically, I haven’t.” Erotically stripping before him at a bachelor party and accepting an envelope through a crack in the door weren’t exactly formal introductions.
“It doesn’t matter. You would be with me, and I know them quite well, so that doesn’t qualify as a good enough reason.” He gave her a long, slow lick from her collarbone to her neck that sent delicious shivers through her entire body. When he did that it was hard to imagine why being with him anywhere, anytime, for any reason would not be a good thing.
“Besides,” he added, the timbre of his voice making her sex ache and throb, “they’re dying to meet you. I’d just as soon rather it be all at once, when they’re all dressed up, in public, and behaving themselves.”
Given the brief look into his family – his brothers at least – she could understand his point. Not that it did much to alleviate the anxiety she felt at the prospect.
“But Michael, I danced at his bachelor party.” Which, as she saw it, was a perfectly good reason the bride would not want her there.
He laughed when she explained this, causing parts of his body to move against hers. Dear Lord the man was hardening again. Either he was naturally virile or he really, really liked her. She hoped it was the latter, because the feel of his substantial erection pressing against her was making her feel needy all over again. Since when had she become such a wanton? She’d managed thirty years of abstinence, now she found it hard to go thirty minutes without him inside her.
“Clearly you do not understand my family. That only elevates you in their eyes,” he chuckled. His teeth raked the bottom of her ear while his hand skimmed the underside of her breast. “As a matter of fact, I heard Lexi say that Ian’s, uh, performance – after your little dance has her considering signing up for belly dancing lessons. If anything, I bet she’d thank you and ask you to teach her some moves.”
Maggie sincerely doubted that. The real question was, could she face them? Even now her cheeks flamed at the thought of the seductive dance she had done. Granted, she hadn’t stripped entirely, and the men had been absolute gentlemen, really, but still.
She snuggled her backside against him, shamelessly enticing him. He groaned, grasping her hip and pulling her closer.
“I have nothing to wear.”
He nudged her upper thigh with his knee and slid into her smoothly from behind. They moaned simultaneously as he stretched her almost painfully. Ah, infinitely better. “So we’ll go shopping.”
With the arm that was beneath her, he fondled her breasts, alternating gentle, kneading squeezes and little pinches of her tight, hard nipples. The other was draped over her hips, this thumb and fingers swirling skillfully, though with maddening slowness, over the outside of her sex. The result was a flood of sensation across her entire body that threatened to burn her to ash. She moved with him, against him, into him, desperately needing more.