beneath his calm, controlled exterior lay a beast that wanted nothing more than to ravish and claim her in the most primitive way possible.
He swallowed hard when she re-entered the room moments later, wearing the same flannel shirt he had wrapped her in at the Pub, her little ankle socks, and smelling of vanilla mint toothpaste. The shy way she looked at him from beneath her long, dark lashes, the firelight reflected in her hair, had him spellbound. He’d always considered himself a strong-willed man, but then again, he’d never known the likes of Maggie Flynn.
As if it was the most natural thing in the world, she curled up next to him on the floor. Her hair, now freed from the clips that normally held it in place, fell over his arm like dark red silk. Her warmth seeped into him almost immediately, making his cock pulse beneath the sweats he’d changed into.
“Maggie?” He was about to suggest she move up to the sofa where she would be more comfortable. She lifted her head, pinning him with a gaze that nearly rendered him helpless.
“Is this alright?” she asked, a new uncertainty in her voice. “I just thought ...” She didn’t finish, casting her eyes downward, her face flushing a furious dark pink as she began to push away, mumbling an apology.
“Maggie,” he said softly, his arm reaching out to curl her back into him. “No more thinking.” He tucked her against him, relishing the perfect fit of her body to his. He would find some way to tether his surging lust if it meant being close to her like this.
He felt, rather than saw her smile as her body melted into his. “Goodnight, Michael.”
She snuggled up against him, and within minutes her deep, even breaths told him she was asleep. He curled his arm around her protectively, drifting off himself a short time later.
Chapter Eleven
M aggie awoke with a terrible ache that had nothing to do with her recent injuries and everything to do with the hard male wrapped around her. Her face was tucked into his neck; his arms and legs caging her in place as his massive erection pressed into the soft flesh of her belly – the same erection she had been rubbing against in her sleep.
It had been his deep-throated groan that had brought her into awareness, made her realize that it was more than a dream.
Maggie had never felt this way before - fevered and anxious, a hungry need so deep it felt as if she could never reach it. She’d experienced arousal before – mostly while reading Salienne Dulcette’s steamy romances – but that was nothing compared to this. She wanted Michael more than she had ever wanted anyone, the desire to have him overriding everything else. She had to do something and soon before she lost her mind. Or embarrassed herself beyond repair. She cringed when she thought of how she had shamelessly straddled and rubbed against him earlier, all but begging for him to make love to her. But he hadn’t.
There could be many reasons for that, several of them honorable. He certainly seemed interested enough, so she decided to be cautiously optimistic. At that moment, however, there was little chance of her getting any sleep unless she found some way to relieve the worst of the ache.
Under normal circumstances, she wouldn’t even consider what she was about to do, but she was feeling rather desperate. And really, it was all his doing. If he wasn’t so damn gorgeous, if his body hadn’t been made for hot, sweaty, epic sex, if he hadn’t nearly brought her to orgasm with little more than his kiss and a few deft caresses.... what woman wouldn’t be just shy of a core meltdown?
She had to do something if she wanted to get any rest whatsoever.
She carefully extracted herself from his hold. He frowned in his sleep, reaching for her as she began to separate from him. She whispered against his ear and stroked his hair until he relaxed, promising to be back soon. Given how
He swallowed hard when she re-entered the room moments later, wearing the same flannel shirt he had wrapped her in at the Pub, her little ankle socks, and smelling of vanilla mint toothpaste. The shy way she looked at him from beneath her long, dark lashes, the firelight reflected in her hair, had him spellbound. He’d always considered himself a strong-willed man, but then again, he’d never known the likes of Maggie Flynn.
As if it was the most natural thing in the world, she curled up next to him on the floor. Her hair, now freed from the clips that normally held it in place, fell over his arm like dark red silk. Her warmth seeped into him almost immediately, making his cock pulse beneath the sweats he’d changed into.
“Maggie?” He was about to suggest she move up to the sofa where she would be more comfortable. She lifted her head, pinning him with a gaze that nearly rendered him helpless.
“Is this alright?” she asked, a new uncertainty in her voice. “I just thought ...” She didn’t finish, casting her eyes downward, her face flushing a furious dark pink as she began to push away, mumbling an apology.
“Maggie,” he said softly, his arm reaching out to curl her back into him. “No more thinking.” He tucked her against him, relishing the perfect fit of her body to his. He would find some way to tether his surging lust if it meant being close to her like this.
He felt, rather than saw her smile as her body melted into his. “Goodnight, Michael.”
She snuggled up against him, and within minutes her deep, even breaths told him she was asleep. He curled his arm around her protectively, drifting off himself a short time later.
Chapter Eleven
M aggie awoke with a terrible ache that had nothing to do with her recent injuries and everything to do with the hard male wrapped around her. Her face was tucked into his neck; his arms and legs caging her in place as his massive erection pressed into the soft flesh of her belly – the same erection she had been rubbing against in her sleep.
It had been his deep-throated groan that had brought her into awareness, made her realize that it was more than a dream.
Maggie had never felt this way before - fevered and anxious, a hungry need so deep it felt as if she could never reach it. She’d experienced arousal before – mostly while reading Salienne Dulcette’s steamy romances – but that was nothing compared to this. She wanted Michael more than she had ever wanted anyone, the desire to have him overriding everything else. She had to do something and soon before she lost her mind. Or embarrassed herself beyond repair. She cringed when she thought of how she had shamelessly straddled and rubbed against him earlier, all but begging for him to make love to her. But he hadn’t.
There could be many reasons for that, several of them honorable. He certainly seemed interested enough, so she decided to be cautiously optimistic. At that moment, however, there was little chance of her getting any sleep unless she found some way to relieve the worst of the ache.
Under normal circumstances, she wouldn’t even consider what she was about to do, but she was feeling rather desperate. And really, it was all his doing. If he wasn’t so damn gorgeous, if his body hadn’t been made for hot, sweaty, epic sex, if he hadn’t nearly brought her to orgasm with little more than his kiss and a few deft caresses.... what woman wouldn’t be just shy of a core meltdown?
She had to do something if she wanted to get any rest whatsoever.
She carefully extracted herself from his hold. He frowned in his sleep, reaching for her as she began to separate from him. She whispered against his ear and stroked his hair until he relaxed, promising to be back soon. Given how
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