Irish Dreams (8 page)

She didn’t shy away but pushed forward, meeting the rhythm of each caress. Her hands made fast work of yanking his shirt out of his trousers.

Switching arms to hold her, he shrugged off his jacket and tossed it on the couch or some other piece of furniture behind him. It didn’t matter, either way. “Maggie.” Keeping her close, he tugged her dress’s zipper down. The silky copper material slipped off her skin, revealing matching lingerie. “You’ll be the death of me, woman.” He cupped one breast outside the beige lace and bent to kiss the line of her neck.

“Off.” She tugged at the opening of his pants.

If they moved any faster, his release would come before he got a chance to settle between her sweet thighs. He eased down his fly, slid off his trousers and boxers. Maggie’s eyes widened as she lowered her gaze over the length of his stomach and down to where the V of his hips met.

“I’ll take your expression as appreciation.” He lifted her, and with one hand, unclasped her bra and flung it across the room. Her pert breasts bounced as he adjusted her in his arms.

“Cocky Irishman.” Her legs wrapped around his hips. One pile of legs and arms, they fell back against the couch.

“Cocky, am I?” He winked and leaned over her, suckling one rosy nub. The tightened flesh felt pearly smooth against his tongue.

“Ethan.” She arched in his grasp, her hair draped over his arms. Her skin slid beneath his hands like ivory silk. “I want you inside me.” She cried out then released a long exhalation. “Wait.”

“What is it?” He pulled away and tried hard not to concentrate on her breasts or open thighs as his lap cradled her supple form. The fog of pleasure left him disoriented.

“Do you have a condom?” She bit into her bottom lip with her straight, white teeth.

He wasn’t sure if the question needled him because she’d thought to ask about protection or the idea of having children with Maggie actually appealed. Absurd. He’d only divorced mere days ago. “Aye, sure I do.” He slipped from beneath her, leaving her seated on the couch as he rummaged through an inner pocket of his suit jacket. The plastic packaging removed, he centered the rubber over his erect head and smoothed it down his shaft.

Legs spread wide and breasts exposed, Maggie looked the vixen. For a fleeting moment, he could have sworn her eyes grew glassy. She slid her hips forward on the couch and smiled. “What are you waiting for?”

“I haven’t a clue.” He shook his head and knelt on the rug in front of her. “I think you hypnotized me, but I’m alert now.” He hooked his hands around her rear and jerked her forward. She gasped. Lifting her, he settled her over his tip. “You ready?”

“Yes.”

Gaze fixed on hers, he thrust upward.

Maggie cried out, bracing herself with her hands on his shoulders.

“Holy Mother of Mercy, you’re tight.” With one more shove, he sheathed himself, then paused to let her adjust.

“Ethan.” Maggie kissed his left temple, and as she worked her way down his ear, neck and shoulder, her breath tickled, her lips fluttered over his skin, their touch light, sensual.

Carefully loosening his grip, he groaned with each drive upward, slow and deep. She met his thrusts, rolling her hips back. The rhythm made the creamy globes of her breasts sway like pendulums. He dipped his head, teased her nipples with flicks of his tongue. She whimpered.

With her fingers, she slid through his hair then held his head to her breast. She writhed against him. “Harder.”

He dug his fingers into the fleshiness of her buttocks. Pulling and pushing, he moved within her. Like a piston, he propelled up and forward, grinding into her as his mounting pleasure forced him to the edge. A deep line formed between her brows. She braced against each drive.

“Let go,” he said.

She nodded and cried out, her body electric within his grasp. He drove into her one last time, moaning as his release followed hers.

A chuckle escaped her as she laid her head on his shoulder. “Damn.” Her breath felt warm along his neck.

Ethan smoothed a hand over her sweat-dampened back. The pulse beneath his palm thundered, echoing his heartbeat. What made her different? Why did she captivate him so?

“So, warrior,” she whispered, rubbing herself over his lap. “Did you mean it when you said we’d save the bedroom for the second time?”

Give him a minute, and they could christen the entire cottage this night. Her gaze glinted with mischief in the dim lighting. “What happened to the shy Maggie I met nearly a week ago?”

She laughed, and shrugged. “I think I’ve left her behind.” Leaning toward him, she brushed her mouth along his cheek.

“I can handle that,” he said. “I can definitely handle that.” He met her lips, surprised to feel his erection hardening already.

Chapter 9

In the light of day, Ethan’s bedroom appeared larger, not that Maggie had paid much attention the night before. The bed where they lay stood high off the floor. Ivory colored walls and dark wood tones calmed the room in a masculine sort of way. She pulled up the down comforter and noted it matched the cornflower blue curtains framing a couple of long windows. Outside, the day appeared sleepy, the forest lush. It must be early morning still.

Maggie turned on her side and watched Ethan asleep beside her, his face peaceful, almost youthful in rest. Not like the sexy man who’d awakened her body the night before. A generous lover, his touch aroused and calmed. She’d made love with him, repeatedly. And as he’d promised, they did make it to his bedroom by round two. She smiled. Love sounded a strange word after only knowing him a week, but she couldn’t describe their night together any other way.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” Ethan opened one eye and arched a brow.

“I thought you slept.”

“I could say the same of you.” Fully alert, he came up on one elbow. “You didn’t answer my question. Is something wrong?”

Did she appear concerned? She hated comparing lovers, but she couldn’t help acknowledging none, even Rick–or most especially Rick–came close to Ethan.

“Maggie?” His gaze narrowed and his chin clenched in that way of his–boyishly stubborn yet masculine. He was upset.

“No.” She reached out, smoothed a hand over one of his. “Nothing’s wrong. Last night was incredible, amazing. It’s never felt this different.”

“For me either.”

She blinked back at him. His expression remained open, observing her. “You’re telling the truth.”

He pushed off the bed and snatched up a pair of jeans from the nearby chair. As he slid into the loose jeans, the muscles in his thighs and butt flexed. The waistband rode right beneath the handles of his lean hips. “Why would I lie? After last night, have I suddenly proven myself a liar?”

“No.”

His eyes flashed angrily. Still, he said nothing. He turned away and picked up a moss- green tee.

“You’re angry.” Good job. How did she explain her insecurities without giving him some big pity party story? “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Tell me what you did mean. Because I can tell you now, if you can’t trust me–”

“Trust you? You mean like you did by letting me know you were leaving for two days. After you kissed me senseless in front of your ex-wife and our friends. Why did Elsie have to tell me about your trip? Why not you?”

“I didn’t know I reported my every move to you.”

“What?” She pushed a palm against her forehead. How had this conversation gotten out of hand? “I’m just surprised it’s never been this way for you. You’re a good-looking, rich guy. Women can’t keep their hands off you and it’s obvious you have a certain degree of skill. Even your lawyer would sleep with you if you’d let her.”

Ethan sat beside her on the bed. “What about you?”

“I thought we established my feelings last night.”

“You’re a beautiful woman, Maggie. What is it you want?”

Ask me to stay. Love me.
Absurd. Where did such thoughts spring from? “I don’t know. Do I have to want something from you? What exactly are you getting at?”

He stood. “Most women want something.”

“I’m not most women.”

“You’re right, you’re not. What am I going to do with you?”

“Wow. Do with me?” Suddenly annoyed with his impersonal reference, she sat up, pulling the sheet over her body. “I’m not a thing, Ethan.”

“I never said you were.”

“Why don’t you ask me to stay?” The breath froze in her chest. She
couldn’t
have voiced those words aloud.

Sliding his hands through his hair, Ethan paced. “You told me people don’t up and move.”

How humiliating. Still, hadn’t he told her differently? “You’re right, I did.” Throwing back the sheet, she swung her legs off the bed and stood.

Ethan’s gaze roved over her, flaring with hunger. “Where are you going?”

Resist
. “Back to the house. Elsie will need my help today. The wedding is tomorrow.”

He followed her out of the bedroom into the living room, where she picked up her dress and slipped it on. She gave the zipper her best effort, but after it took too long, gave up.

“Let me help.”

He stepped toward her. She waved him away, picked up her undergarments and stuffed them into her small purse. “I’m fine.”

“I’ll take you back.”

“I’d rather walk.”

“Don’t be stubborn.”

Furious with herself for caring for him and with him for his rejection of her, she shook her head. “Don’t tell me how I should act. I decide who I am, do you understand?” She placed a hand over her chest. “You won’t need to worry about what to do with me going forward. Keep your money and your caresses. I don’t want either.”

He bent his head, rubbed his neck. “Maggie.”

She didn’t wait for anything else as she walked out of the cottage and slammed the door.

* * * *

The day of Elsie’s wedding was crisp and cool but the tiny heater in the bridal tent left Maggie feeling warm and restless–at least she supposed it was the heater.

“You’re crying.” Elsie’s crystal blue eyes teared up as her hands waved like fans in front of her face. “Stop. You’ll make me cry too. My makeup will be dreadful.”

“Am I?” Maggie glanced at their reflections in the mirror. “I believe I’m a bit nervous and excited.” She bit her bottom lip and wiped beneath her eyes, making sure no tears fell on her lavender chiffon dress. Elsie dazzled in her strapless A-line gown. Crystals and pearls covered the bodice, which swept sideways and dropped down into an elegant satin skirt. Crystal teardrop earrings dangled from her earlobes. “Oh, hon, I don’t think anything about you could be dreadful in this moment, even if you tried.”

“What’s wrong? You never cry. I know something happened between you and Ethan.”

“Don’t worry. Ethan and I are fine. I’m definitely not crying over him. It’s not every day my closest friend gets married.” That was the truth. Maggie couldn’t stop the overflow of thoughts about Ethan since leaving his cottage yesterday, but in this moment, she could only think how beautiful Elsie looked. “I can’t believe it’s here. I’m incredibly happy for you.”

Elsie squeezed Maggie’s hands. “I know. Everything is going to be wonderful.”

Who was this stranger? Elsie was never this calm and collected.

“Are you ladies ready? Sun is almost setting. I’ve asked the staff to turn on the outside heaters.” Elsie’s mom pulled aside a long flap and stuck her head into the tent. She smiled when her gaze rested on her daughter. “Oh, you look beautiful, honey.”

“Not you too, Mom. I’ve already got a teary-eyed Maggie here.”

Mrs. Rogers fanned her eyes. “Your father is waiting outside. He’d like to come in.”

Maggie took a step back from Elsie. “I better go find Ethan and make sure the groom is ready.” She cleared her throat and smiled at Mrs. Rogers. “You look lovely as well. I’ll let Mr. Rogers know he can come in now.”

Maggie left the tent and waved to Mr. Rogers. With white hair and pale blue eyes like Elsie, he made a dashing older man. “You might have to do some damage control in there.”

“Don’t I always with you ladies?” Elsie’s father opened his arms. “Come here, Magpie.”

She smiled at the familiar endearment and walked into the older man’s arms. “She’s so happy, sir.”

“I know. And Mrs. Rogers and I are so grateful you’re here to celebrate this day with us and her.” He stepped back, his eyebrows drawn. “What about you, Magpie? I can’t say I’m disappointed you finally left that slimeball of a professor.”

She shook her head. “Me neither. I just wish I had made the decision sooner.”

He turned toward the tent, cupped a hand over one of her shoulders. “Life teaches us plenty. It’s okay to have regrets at times but acknowledge what is necessary. These past few days in Ireland have done you some good, whether you realize it or not. I’m not sure they would have, if it weren’t for Richard.”

“You’re right, sir. I know you are.” Ireland’s beauty and people seemed to feed her soul, but to say it that way seemed silly.

He smiled. “Of course I am. Something good has to come out of being this old.” She was going to argue against his age, when he glanced sideways. Ethan approached. “Looks like someone has come to collect you. I better get inside anyway.” He turned to Ethan. “Take care that she makes it down the aisle safely.”