Maggie

 

“You wouldn't happen to be pregnant, by any chance, would you?”

 

Maggie's eyes widened. She'd taken the pregnancy test right after they'd made the call to her father, and it had been positive. In her head, she'd been rehearsing what to say to Brock for almost an hour, imagining every possible reaction from him and trying to decide how she'd respond to each one. For her, the most farfetched outcome seemed to be the one in which he'd react with joy.

 

But she certainly hadn't expected him to bring it up first, and now that he had, all of her planned discussions had run away from her. She felt like a rabbit in headlights.

 

“How did you know?”

 

“Your mother saw you sneak me out of the house. And Turo said they've heard you getting sick in the mornings. He gave me a pretty rough time about it.”

 

“So that's why they've been looking at me like that,” Maggie sighed. “That makes sense. Okay. Is this the part where you tell me you can't deal with having a baby around, and you won't be taking me with you when this is over?”

 

Brock cradled her face in his hands tenderly. “This is the part where I tell you I'd never leave you behind to deal with the fallout after what we're about to do to Turo. It's the part where I tell you we belong together, no matter what. And if there's a baby, well, we'll just have to make sure we do a better job raising him than our parents did with us.”

 

“Or her,” Maggie whispered.

 

Brock grinned. “Or her.”

 

“I love you, Brock.” She felt warm tears spill down her cheeks.

 

He kissed her again. “I love you, too.”

 

Maggie clung to Brock like ivy embracing a wall, trying to find every nook and crease that would allow her to take root in him so they could become an inseparable whole. He held her tight and she felt strength and comfort in his arms, radiating from him, saturating every cell in her body with the unspoken promise of happiness and safety.

 

They both sank to the floor as one, their hands exploring each other's bodies eagerly. The carpeting in the office was cheap, ragged, and dusty, but Maggie didn't care. She lowered herself onto her back and pulled Brock on top of her, spreading her legs so he could lie between them. He reached up to brush some strands of hair out of her face and then he was kissing her again, sucking on her tongue gently but insistently.

 

She ran her fingertips through his hair and caressed his neck, enjoying his hunger for her. Even through his trousers, she could feel his cock stiffen against her thigh. She reached down, kneading it slowly and relishing the way Brock's breath caught in his throat at her touch.

 

Brock hooked his fingers under the hem of Maggie's dress, pulling it up over her head and tossing it aside. She arched her back and he reached behind her, unclasping her bra. A vent near the floor exhaled a hot, stale torrent of air, and as she felt it on her bare chest, her nipples hardened.

 

“Looks like we're both getting hard,” Brock said playfully.

 

He touched her breasts, and the faint tickle of his fingertips made Maggie wet. As he fondled her nipples, she closed her eyes, moaning softly.

 

“I'm yours, Brock,” she sighed happily. “Every part of me belongs to you.”

 

“Damn right.”

 

She felt the tip of his tongue trace a line down her chest, pausing briefly to kiss her breasts before continuing its journey down to her belly. His breath was so warm against her, washing over her skin in gentle waves like a tropical breeze. He nuzzled the damp area of her panties, breathing in deeply, as though he was savoring her primal musk.

 

Maggie opened her eyes again as Brock slid her panties down her legs and threw them over his shoulder. She caught a glimpse of the mischievous twinkle in his eyes, and then his head was between her legs. His tongue found her clitoris easily and she gasped as it flicked against her.

 

Even though he was just licking the surface of her, she felt it all the way down to the base of her spine, making her tremble and spasm uncontrollably.

 

“Oh yes,” she murmured. “Yes, Brock, please, just like that.”

 

Brock took her clit between his teeth tenderly, rubbing it with his tongue. As he did, he slid a finger inside of her, followed by another. They pressed against Maggie's G-spot and the room began to spin around her like a carousel. Her hands shook as her nails dug into the carpet at her sides. He moved his fingers in and out, in and out, expertly finding the most sensitive areas inside of her and applying pressure to them.

 

He was like a brilliant conductor and every nerve-ending in her body was an instrument in the orchestra, their individual notes rising in harmony until their chorus reached its apex.

 

“No one's ever made me feel like this,” Maggie whispered, each word carried on its own sharp exhalation like leaves on the wind.

 

Brock's mouth chuckled against her skin, and the tickle of his breath was more than she could bear.

 

“Take me...please...I need you inside of me, I need you now...”

 

Brock continued to taste her, the movements of his tongue and fingers growing more rapid, but not fast enough to give her what she needed. “Beg me,” he commanded between licks.

 

At first, Maggie couldn't gather her thoughts together into coherent words. What flickered across her mind were scattered colors, feelings, impulses. How could she speak when she couldn't even think?

 

“Beg me, or I'll stop.”

 

She mustered all of her strength and focus. “Please...please, take me...please, Brock, please, please, I'll do anything, please...”

 

Brock withdrew his mouth and fingers from her and moved forward until he was on top of her again. Maggie unhooked her fingernails from the carpet and impatiently reached up to seize the front of his shirt, tearing it open. His buttons scattered across the floor.

 

“That was an expensive shirt,” he said with a grin.

 

“We'll be rich soon,” Maggie laughed. “I'll buy you a closet full of them.”

 

A brief shadow passed over Brock's face, but before Maggie could ask why, he reached behind her head and pulled a handful of her hair. Maggie's head tilted back, exposing her neck. Brock planted a series of kisses under her jaw as he reached down with his other hand, unzipping his pants.

 

A moment later, he was inside of her, his cock growing even more rigid as it filled her up.

 

Brock plunged deeper into her with every thrust, their cries of passion crashing against each other in the air between them. Maggie was sure the others in the warehouse could hear them, but she didn't care. In that moment, her entire world was this man, this room, this feeling.

 

Their hips rocked against each other until they ached, each trying to disappear completely into the other. The sweat of their bodies mingled together in an intoxicating perfume. Brock pressed into her harder and harder, until Maggie believed she could feel him making his way up into her stomach, her chest, her heart. Her pulse seemed to throb in perfect time with their lovemaking, filling her ears with its singular booming rhythm.

 

They came as one and it was like a dam breaking, a gushing, elemental roar that ran through both of their bodies. Maggie wanted its raging current to lift them both up and wash them away together, anywhere at all, as long as they could continue to cling to each other.

 

But instead it passed over them, leaving them in a pile of limbs, damp and gasping for air.

 

They stayed that way for a long time before finally getting up and composing themselves. When they walked back to the main area of the warehouse, Hammer looked them over disdainfully.

 

“Looks like you'll need a new shirt for tonight. Better hurry up and get one before the stores close.”