“I want it very, very badly,” she choked out.
With a satisfied nod, he plunged into her again and swallowed her strangled cry with a hard kiss.
Sense of time and place eluded her as he pounded into her, as his mouth devoured hers and his fingers stroked her hair and her clit. She met his every thrust with the bucking of her hips, drank in his kisses, cried out his name. Waves of pleasure crashed over her. Perpetual. Unending. A climax so intense and extraordinary that her legs started to shake and shards of bright light exploded in front of her eyes.
The bliss only deepened when she felt Ben shudder, when she heard that low groan signaling his climax. She tightened her grip around his neck. When she pressed her breasts to his sweat-soaked chest, the erratic thumping of his heartbeat vibrated against her skin, making her own pulse race.
She didn’t know how long they lay there, and she didn’t care that the crush of his powerful chest restricted the flow of oxygen to her brain. She liked the weight of him. And the slick feel of him. And the spicy masculine scent of him. She knew she should move, get up, get dressed, put an end to this intimate moment, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Instead, she released a sigh and stroked his back, pressing her face to his chest as he slowly rolled over and brought her with him.
Next to her, Ben moistened his dry lips, reeling not so much from his climax but from Maggie’s odd behavior. Something had changed. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but he sensed it as he held Maggie in his arms and threaded his fingers through her damp red hair. Somehow, in the ten minutes they’d lain there recovering from those mind-blowing orgasms, she’d dropped her guard. She hadn’t jumped out of the bed after the sex, hadn’t started rambling on about her schedule and schoolwork and all the reasons why being here with him was a bad idea.
She just lay there and let him stroke her hair.
He liked it.
A lot.
“So what now?” she asked after giving a big yawn. “Should we take a walk on the beach?”
“Says the redhead after yawning her face off,” he teased. “It’s okay to be tired, babe. To just lie around and do nothing.”
She shifted, moving onto her side so that her gaze locked with his. Her expression reflected uneasiness. “Doing nothing makes me anxious.”
He smiled. “I’ve noticed.”
“It’s not a bad thing, is it?”
“No, it’s not a bad thing. No need to get defensive.” He reached for her leg and lifted it so that it draped over his, not sure why he needed the physical contact so desperately. “I just think you need to learn how to relax every now and then.”
She didn’t answer, but the troubled look on her face spoke volumes. He wondered how many times she’d heard that before from the people in her life. Her friends. Co-workers. Tony. Though he wasn’t sure why, Ben suddenly grew certain that Maggie’s nonexistent love life was a direct result of her need to always be doing something.
“What do you want from your life?” he found himself blurting. “Aside from being a social worker?”
Surprise flickered in her gaze, followed by a glimmer of confusion. “To be honest, I’ve never really thought past the career thing.”
“You don’t think about getting married? Or having children? Or heck, traveling, gardening, anything that doesn’t involve working?”
“Not really.” Before he could question the response, she turned the tables on him. “What about you? Do you ever think of a life beyond acting?”
“All the time.” A wry smile creased his mouth. “If I’m being honest, I’d tell you acting is definitely not what I’d thought it would be.”
“What did you hope to get from it?”
He paused to think about the question. Shit. He’d never let himself examine the hopes he’d had going into it. Or the unhappiness he felt now that his career had zigzagged in a direction he’d never wanted.
“Ben?”
He bit the inside of his cheek, trying to put it into words he’d never said out loud. “It’s…it’s like I bought a first-class ticket for passage on the Titanic,” he finally said. “You know, boarding the ship, getting caught up in the splendor of it, thinking I’m on top of the world. And then comes the iceberg and the ship sinks.”
“So what’s your iceberg?” she asked, reaching out to touch his chin.
He hadn’t shaved in days, and the feel of Maggie’s fingers skimming his rough beard made his groin tighten. She didn’t miss the way his cock jerked in response, but she wiggled her eyebrows and shot him a no-nonsense stare. “Oh no. We’re having a conversation. Stop trying to distract me.”
He grinned. “I didn’t do anything.”