The Abby Green Modern Collection. Эбби Грин
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from the obvious implication that he meant another lover…if she could even call him that. Right now, when he was being cynical and hateful, it was very easy to forget nonsensical, fantastical notions of being in love. She clung on to it like a shield around her heart.
‘I’m sure you’re right.’ And she smiled up at him sunnily.
‘I’ll see you this evening. We go out at half seven.’
She nodded her head and watched as he walked away, sagging back into the chair once he’d gone, only aware then how much tension she’d been holding in.
Maggie was determined that Caleb would not affect her equilibrium, not with thoughts of the evening ahead or his tart barbs. So much for their short-lived truce.
She was doing a bus top sightseeing tour. But…try as she might, she couldn’t block out the fantasy that hovered annoyingly like a wispy mist on the periphery of her mind. That if they’d met under different circumstances, he could perhaps feel something for her—beyond the mild contempt, distrust, all wrapped up in overwhelming desire, which was the reality.
She flipped her sunglasses back down on to her nose and grimaced. That was the problem; even if she could indulge herself for one second that Caleb didn’t have an axe to grind with her…then that would only put her in the same category as his usual mistresses. Which meant, she knew well, a bit of fun for a while, being indulged, cosseted, then…he’d walk away. That was what he’d meant last night, when he’d alluded to the fact that they always knew where they stood with him. And, even if that was the case, that wouldn’t be enough. Not for her.
Maybe they had thicker skins? She valiantly ignored the absurd desire to line all of them up in front of a firing range. In a way, she reassured herself, she was better off; because she and Caleb had such a tangled history, it meant that he would never allow her to get too close.
Or you him…
Of course! she thought angrily, answering herself, it worked in her favour too. It did. She just wasn’t entirely sure how…yet.
She spotted something on the street and got off at the next stop. Without questioning why, she found herself walking into the beautician’s she’d seen. It was not because she wanted to make an effort. It was not giving into this fantasy. It was just female pride.
That night at another glittering function, it was like a carbon copy of the previous night. The same people, the same conversations. And yet…what was going on between them was subtly different. Maggie was tucked into Caleb’s side, a possessive arm around her waist. He was including her in conversations, making it very clear she was with him. His woman. She could remember the look he’d given her earlier when she’d emerged from the dressing room in the suite. Her whole body still tingled from it.
At the beauticians she’d been waxed, plucked, buffed. Nothing that he would notice…but she knew. That somehow made it erotic. She berated herself. Indulging herself like this would only end in pain. She knew it. But she couldn’t help it. Couldn’t help the devilish, rogue desire within her that had chosen the dress she had. It was one of the ones the sales girl had picked out, something Maggie would never normally have the nerve to wear. But something she guessed would be suitable.
With her hair piled in a loose knot on top of her head, the black dress was deceptively simple. A cowl neckline at the front didn’t reveal too much but then, behind, it fell away, revealing her whole back. She’d always been self-conscious of her freckles everywhere but somehow now, here with Caleb, with his possessive arm around her, she felt…something close to beautiful for the first time in her life.
Without her realising it, the crowd had dispersed somewhat and Caleb led Maggie out to the terrace. The balmy air drifted around them on a light scented breeze and she breathed in deeply. There was a secluded gazebo at one end and Caleb took her hand, bringing her over.
‘What…what are we doing here?’
Under the trellis roof that had flowers hanging down in a mass of twisting vines and leaves, he turned her to face him. ‘Something I’ve been wanting to do all evening.’ He dipped his head to her ear, making a delicious shiver skate up and down her spine. ‘Your back has been driving me crazy.’
He pulled her even closer and she gasped when she felt the hardness of his arousal pressing into her belly. It called to her, made her damp with anticipation. She was breathless, waiting for the kiss, the embrace which was inevitable. His mouth hovered infuriatingly over her neck, lips barely skimming her skin. She wound her hands up and around his neck, craving an even closer embrace. Not thinking, not capable, just feeling.
Then his hands were on her bare back and a tremor shot through her. And in that moment his mouth covered hers and she was lost. He traced the outline of her lips, before his tongue delved in and met hers in an intoxicating dance. She was helpless but to succumb, matching his thrusts with her own, shyly allowing him to teach her, guide her.
His hands moulded, traced her waist, her spine, the smooth silky skin. Then one hand moved down and down until it rested just over the material of the dress that lay over her buttocks. She drew back, eyes dark and wide. Breath coming in short gasps. Watching her as he did, his hand went under the material, down until he felt the curve of her bottom, sheathed in silk panties. Her hands tightened on his shoulders.
His eyes were on her flushed face; they glittered with intent as he bent his head and took her mouth again with passionate bruising force, just as his hand went beneath the silk and caressed, smoothed, explored the voluptuous curves. Then his hand dipped all the way down, fingers seeking, underneath, all the way until…
Maggie gasped against his lips as his fingers found the moist evidence of her desire. Stroking back and forth, seeking the most sensitive part. When she would have pulled away, he held her to him fast and it was the most exquisite torture. She couldn’t do anything, couldn’t move. He was relentless. And then he was there…at that part…A spasm passed through her in response and still she was held captive. Unable to escape a pleasure that was almost too much. Too intense.
With his head bent, pressing fiery kisses against her neck, her head fell back. One hand held her like a vise against his body and with his other hand he was fast bringing her whole body upwards on a spiral of some devilish, overwhelming sensation, the like of which she’d never experienced. She could feel the subtle rhythm of his hard body as it pressed against her, she knew she’d widened her legs to tacitly give him access and their movements became more and more urgent, she didn’t know what she was seeking, it was something that lay tantalisingly just out of reach and then…suddenly something gripped her that was so devastating…she stopped breathing for a minute.
Slow seconds later, as if she’d been transported to some other place, she slowly returned and felt her whole being throbbing, pulsating in the aftermath of what felt like an earthquake on her senses. As reality trickled back into her fuzzy mind, as Caleb straightened and loosened his hold slightly, she knew with astounding clarity that she’d just had her first orgasm. She looked up at Caleb, knew that she must have a dazed expression on her face and couldn’t even begin to disguise it. She had lost her virginity to her one boyfriend in college, but he’d never ever made her feel anything beyond mild discomfort. This…this, however, was in another league. She heard the murmur of low voices nearby, a tinkle of laughter coming from the ballroom just yards away.
She had come apart in his arms, on little more than the strength of a kiss, had allowed him full access without so much as a murmur of dissent. Without thinking, she just reacted, had to get away. ‘Excuse me…I need to go to the bathroom.’
Caleb let her go and she went, hoping she didn’t look as devastated by what had just happened as she felt.
He watched her go, sitting back on the seat behind him in a sprawl. His own heart rate was just beginning to return to normal and the unsatisfied ache was acute.
He shook his head grimly; he’d only planned on kissing her. Hadn’t planned on the sudden need to maul her senseless. What was wrong with him? The last time he’d caressed a woman so comprehensively in a public place was when