“Have you told him yet?” Taryn asked during one of those such times.
Maggie thought about pretending she didn’t know what Taryn was talking about, but decided against it. It seemed pointless. Taryn had already proven that she was light years ahead of Maggie on the understanding scale. “How did you know?”
Taryn smiled. “Because I was in your place once. “ The smile faded. “I lost our first baby. Jake doesn’t think I know, but I do. Maybe if I had told him instead of running away, trying to pretend that I didn’t need him...”
“I’m so sorry,” Maggie said sincerely.
“Thanks,” Taryn said. “We have Riley now, and she’s wonderful, but I’ll always wonder, you know? What would her big brother have been like? Would he have had Jake’s eyes and the cockeyed Callaghan grin?”
She paused as her voice broke slightly, taking a moment to regain control. “Anyway, I just wanted to say that if you’re waiting for the right time, or the right place, or for things to be perfect – don’t. Because like it or not, tomorrow is not guaranteed, not for any of us.”
*
Michael looked over at that moment, caught the seriousness of Maggie’s expression.
“What was that all about?” he asked when they were on their way back to Maggie’s house where Michael would continue his recovery under Maggie’s watchful eye.
“What?” Maggie asked, but given the way she avoided his eyes, she knew exactly what he was talking about.
“The little chat you had with Taryn.”
“Oh, that,” Maggie said, forcing a smile. “It was nothing.”
“Usually when you say something is nothing, it turns out to be a very substantial something,” Michael said.
“There’s a lot we need to talk about, Michael, but not tonight, okay?”
“Not tonight,” he agreed. Tonight he needed to be with Maggie, to lose himself in her and forget everything else.
Maggie’s house was dark, but as before, plenty of firewood was stacked neatly and a nice pile had been assembled in the fireplace, waiting only for a match to set it ablaze. The fridge was full, a bowl of fresh fruit was on the table, and the cupboards were packed with some of Michael’s favorite snacks.
“I could really get used to your family,” she said approvingly. “They’re spoiling me rotten.”
“Family takes care of family,” he said simply. It was how things were done. They didn’t question it, they just did it.
“But I’m not family, Michael.”
Michael pulled her into his arms. “Yes, Maggie, you are. You belong to me, as I belong to you. Surely you know that by now.”
Michael lowered his head and kissed her, fully, passionately. There was no gentleness, no easing into it. It was total possession, and she gave herself up to it completely. Maggie took his hand and led him up to the bedroom.
*
“Maybe it’s too soon,” she said hesitantly after unbuttoning his shirt and seeing the bandages that still covered the wound.
Michael’s eyes had become a deep sapphire blue. Maggie had been taking care of him, but had refused to let him do anything for her. Tonight that was going to change.
Michael undid the clasp of his belt, letting the sides hang freely. “Come here.” His voice was low, husky, filled with hunger. It made Maggie’s insides tighten, and ignited the inner burn she always seemed to feel around him, stealing her breath away.
Dutifully, Maggie placed her hands on his jeans and unsnapped the fastening, subconsciously licking her lips in anticipation as the tip of him strained over the top. Pleasuring Michael had become somewhat of an obsession for her; she loved the control, the power she had over him.
Before she had a chance to lower his zipper, he grabbed the sides of her shirt and pulled, sending buttons flying as he exposed her. Before the startled cry left her lips, he was on his knees, suckling her through the satin and lace bra, his hands moving up and down her waist.
“So pretty,” he murmured, torturing first one breast, then the other until her knees went weak. Her hands tangled in his hair, longer than it normally was, hanging on for dear life. She had forgotten how devastating Michael’s touch could be.
“Do you know how I’ve dreamed of doing this?” he murmured against her. “How every night I woke up reaching for you, Maggie?”
With a snap of his fingers the front clasp of her bra was undone and he was peeling it away, pushing it from her shoulders. The moist wet heat of his mouth against her bare skin made her whimper.
While his mouth worked her breasts, her incredibly sensitive breasts, his hands went to work on her jeans, skillfully undoing them and coaxing them down to her ankles before she kicked them away.