Truth or Dare (18 page)

Snaking an arm beneath her knee, he drew her leg higher up his side, opened her farther—and thrust deeper than he’d gone before. The air rushed out of her lungs as she felt him hard and demanding, penetrating her to the point where she couldn’t tell whether the pressure was pleasure or pain. Only that she didn’t want him to stop.

Her inner muscles clenched around him, the sensation of being so full with him nearly enough to put her over the edge. To have her heel pressed hard into his ass, and her desperate words spilling from her lips.

“Yes, yes.
Please
—”

Tyler stared down into her eyes, a ghost of a smile hovering around his mouth. He drew back, dragging all that thick length through her until only the head remained and then sank deep, deeper, and oh God she couldn’t believe how deep he was again.

“Like that?”

Everything inside her was ratcheting tighter, the tension building.

She couldn’t form words, couldn’t breathe—could only stare into his eyes and nod, praying he’d do it again.

And he did.

He rocked his hips, finding a way to give her the very last of what he had—all she could possibly take. Everything she wanted.

The pressure rocked from her clit to that point of deepest penetration and back again, and that was it. Explosion. Her body came apart, her ragged screams flying free.

And then Tyler was sliding in and out of her, faster and faster. Filling her again and again.

Groaning her name, until with one final thrust, he let go, giving himself over to release.

Freeing Maggie’s leg, he stroked her cheek and kissed her, slow and deep, lingering over her mouth as though they were just beginning rather than at the end. Her fingers slid into his hair and she kissed him back, unconcerned by the well of emotion rising within her chest. They’d shared something amazing. Something safe. Something she didn’t think she’d have been able to experience with anyone other than Tyler or with any arrangement but the one they had.

So she didn’t examine the emotions too closely, just knew they were there.

Breaking from the kiss, Tyler reached between them and pulled out, holding the condom in place, though from her perspective, it didn’t look like it was going anywhere. But he was careful. Exceedingly.

This was the best idea she’d ever had.

In the bathroom, Tyler took care of the rubber and cleaned up. Hands braced over the sink, he stared hard at his reflection. This was either a screw-up of monumental proportion or the best damn idea since those snug, ass-hugging workout shorts Maggie’d had on when he saw her heading off to the gym a few weeks back.

Whatever it was, it was done, and for good or bad, there weren’t any take-backs.

Which was probably a good thing—because even if there were, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to do the right thing if it meant not having what Maggie had just given him.

She was amazing.

So far beyond anything his depraved imagination could have conjured. Sexy and playful and—
God,
those soft moans while the bite of her nails urged him on. And now she was waiting for him in his bed.

And yeah,
hello, hard-on. Back so soon?

Why wasn’t he surprised?

Shoving off the sink, he cinched a towel around his waist and opened the bedroom door, not quite sure what he was expecting to happen next—but sure as shit not expecting to find an empty bedroom.

Following the sounds of muttering to the living room, he discovered Maggie three-quarters of the way dressed, struggling with her T-shirt, which had rolled up on itself so it wrapped like a band around her head and armpit.

Propping a shoulder against the wall, he crossed his arms.

“In a hurry?”

The muttering stopped and Maggie froze, then, reversing what little progress she’d made with the shirt, wrenched it off her head, leaving her in just her bra, black yoga pants, and a spill of soft waves pouring over her bare shoulders.

Man,
she was so pretty.

And he’d just had her. So why was she standing so far away and why was he letting her?

“Not a hurry,” she answered, now taking the time to unravel her shirt. “But I figured with the whole ‘no relationship’ thing, getting my clothes on would go a long way toward putting us back on ‘friendly’ ground. You know, keeping it from getting confusing with a bunch of post-sexy-fun snuggles. I wasn’t going to take off without saying goodbye or anything.”

He nodded, admiring the way her body moved when she pulled the shirt over her head, this time getting it on in one try.

“Are we good, Maggie?” he asked. “Any regrets?”

Her eyes blazed over his bare chest and he fought the urge to flex just a little. See where it would get him. But they’d made a deal. And it looked as though a second round wasn’t a part of it.

When she met his eyes it was with an almost shy smile on her face. “Not a single one. You?”

He pushed off the wall and closed the distance between them.

Regrets? Yeah, more than he could count. But…

“Not about this,” he said, catching a bit of that silky blonde between his fingers and then tucking it behind her ear before kissing her, soft and slow.

Maggie’s arms linked around his neck, her fingers brushing the hair at the base of his skull in a way that had him groaning and pulling her closer, angling his head to take more—

He broke away with a gruff laugh and gave his head a hard rub. She’d been ready to leave. Wanting to keep some distance between them so things didn’t get confused.

A blush rode across her cheekbones as she backed toward the door. “Thanks for the good time, Ty.”

Holy. Hell.

Maggie sat in her favorite chair in her living room. She slumped down. Straightened up.

Crossed her legs, and when even that much pressure had her nearly groaning, thinking about what Tyler had done to her…she tried sitting akimbo. And finally got up in a huff.

This was nuts.

She’d gone sex-free for three years without batting an eye, but now—well, so far she’d barely made it two hours. During which time she’d taken a shower, made tea, had a glass of wine, watched the first five minutes of a
30 Rock
episode on Netflix—then turned it off in a snit when even Liz Lemon wasn’t enough to keep her mind from drifting back to Tyler pushing inside her and the way he looked into her eyes just as he was about to take her over the edge, holding her in place, even as he let her fall.

Pacing from the bay window to the front door and back again, she shook her head in disgust.

Desperation was a bad thing. Ugly. Unappealing and totally not sexy.

She and Tyler had agreed to keep things light. Easy. Uncomplicated.

Friendly.

The plan was simple. Scratch the itch and then resume friendship ASAP, figuring that one mind-blowing lay ought to be enough to get her through the next sixteen months, at least.

Wrong.

Maggie was pretty sure she wasn’t going to last another sixteen minutes. Which had her wondering whether Tyler was wrestling with the same need.

One way to know for sure. Pulling out her phone, she thumbed in a message only the most extreme desperation could have driven her to.

Maggie:
Obviously, that was crazy talk when I said just once. What I meant was just one night.

Staring at her phone, she couldn’t believe she’d sent that text.

It was too late to get it back, but she could send another one chock-full of LOLs and JKs and a slew of other backpedaling disclaimers. Only the idea of being anything less than honest with Tyler didn’t sit right. What they’d agreed to was something that relied on the trust between them, and she couldn’t betray it. Not even for a shred of pride—

Her thoughts cut off as,
geez,
it sounded like someone dropped a refrigerator down the stairwell.

Jerking the door open, she gasped at finding Tyler standing there, one arm hooked over the frame of the door, the other raised to knock.

Her brain stalled out. He looked hot, his hair standing up in untamed disarray. Imposing, his broad shoulders practically filling her doorway as his eyes blazed down her body. So sexy and—
huh
—oddly flushed.

Brow crinkling, she looked past him to the stairs and back. “You okay?”

“Fine.” The hand that had been poised to knock caught her around her hips as he stepped into her space and kept walking, backing her into her apartment. “Got your text. Skipped a few stairs.”

Without breaking stride, he pulled off her shirt and then yanked off his.

Nice.

“Wow. I was embarrassed to be so desperate. But you’re making me feel way better.”

He flashed her a cocky grin that was off-the-charts sexy. “I’m about to.”

When Tyler came to, it was from a rest so deep it took him a moment to collect his bearings. His eyes opened to an unfamiliar ceiling, an unfamiliar bed, and the decadent scent of his favorite cookie-girl sweet on the sheets beneath him.

A glance at the clock warned him that sleep wasn’t nearly so complete as he might have thought. Four
A.M.,
and he was pretty sure they hadn’t actually made it to bed until after two.

Made it to sleep, anyway. The bed had been put to good use at least twice prior to that. Once before the shower. And once after the kitchen counter.

He could not be getting hard again already.

But yeah, sure enough. And if Maggie were still snuggled against his side the way she’d been when they finally knocked off, he might have thought to do something about it. Only she wasn’t. Which at this hour was pretty weird.

Throwing his legs over the side of the bed, he rubbed the stubble on his jaw, then the mess of his hair. He looked around the floor for his jeans and pulled them on commando, before following the light down the hall.

At the kitchen doorway, he came up short at the sight of Maggie hunched over the table, the box of condoms from her bedroom in one hand while in the other…

“Seriously, Maggie, a glue gun?”

He’d been reminded of Sam and Ava’s weird fixation on this box of rubbers hours earlier. They’d already used the two he’d brought with him, and standing in Maggie’s open doorway, he’d been giving her a last goodnight kiss—one that ended up migrating south to between her legs.

By the time they’d made it back to the bed, Maggie had torn into the box in a frenzy, swearing she’d figure something out.

Obviously, she had.

“Perfect!” she declared, beaming up at him.

And that smile. There was nothing like it. Nothing like her.

Admiring her handiwork, he chuckled. “An awful lot of work for that little box.”

“I’m protecting your honor,” she said with a smirk, slumping in her chair.

Pulling up his own, he sat. “Appreciated. And hey, what we did tonight is nobody’s business but our own. Still, the glue gun seems a mite extreme.”

Maggie turned the box around in her hands a few times before looking at him over the top. “I guess I’m feeling kind of private about it. And come on, a booty call in Sam and Ava’s own backyard—the teasing would be merciless.”

That it would. But from what he knew about Maggie, she got off on teasing and trash talk almost as much as that sweet spot behind her ear.

“Booty call, huh?”

She shrugged, the corners of her mouth tugging up. “I texted. You came.”

She had him there. “More than once.”

He didn’t have a problem with privacy; it was just that with how close Maggie was with Ava, he had to wonder. “You really think you’ll be able to keep this from your best friend?”

“Not even close. But I guess I’d rather share it with Ava on my own terms, rather than later this morning when she springs into my bed and stumbles across the box.” Then her eyes traveled over him, and she let out a reluctant sigh. “Or you. Looking all half naked and completely hot in my bed might tip her off.”

He pushed out of his chair and stretched.

“Hint taken. My services are no longer required,” he teased. “Time to go.”

Maggie was not going to feel guilty.

Okay, she already felt guilty. But she was going to keep telling herself not to, because what she was doing wasn’t wrong. It wasn’t deceitful. And it didn’t involve betrayal. Just a liberal amount of Pine-Sol, Lysol, Tide, and Pledge, as she’d spent the last four hours scouring her apartment for evidence of her late-night tryst with Tyler.

The place was immaculate.

Glistening.

And cold. Running back to her room, she closed the cracked window and then returned to the kitchen, where she’d lit a s’more-scented candle.

Plopping down at her kitchen table, exhausted, she stared at her hands.

No guilt.

Sex between consenting adults was not up for public discussion. Not always.

From the hall she heard a key turn in the lock and braced for the evasion to come.

Ava danced around the corner, carrying a sleeve of Oreos, her brow crinkled as she sniffed the air. “You cleaned
already
?”

Maggie opened her mouth to explain that she hadn’t been able to sleep, which was the absolute truth, when another set of words spilled out instead. “I had sex with Tyler last night. Over and over. And it was insanely hot and so totally dirty and worth it even though we’re never going to do it again, because we’re just friends.” And then the tears started coming with a rush of more words. “I was going to lie to you, because I wasn’t really ready to share it, but then I saw your face and I couldn’t, so I’ve been cleaning to hide the evidence for four hours
for nothing.
”

The air sucked into her empty lungs on a gasp and Maggie slapped her hands to her cheeks.

Ava stood locked in place, her mouth half open, brows sky high. “OMG, you had sex so dirty…you had to clean the entire apartment to cover the evidence?”

Maggie nodded, her belly still in knots, the air not quite flowing from her tight lungs yet. “Yeah, he’s kind of a rock star.”

Ava rushed to her side, kneeling beside her at the table as she clutched her hand. “How many times? That’s all I want to know. To start. But then I want every sordid detail.”