MAGGIE

I’m not sure how long we stayed in bed. It must’ve been the entire afternoon, but I can’t say for certain. The whole thing seemed like a dream, an alternate reality in which I’d become some sort of sex machine worshipped by none other than the likes of Tyler Daniels.

Who happened to be a sex god himself.

Even though we never actually had sex. Technically.

I blush at myself, standing in my bathroom, as I struggle to make myself presentable in time to pick Mila up from school. I’m not sure I’ll ever know what came over me today, but I do know it wasn’t Margaret Marshall of Harp’s Haven in bed earlier.

Margaret Marshall wears yoga pants and a messy bun. Her love life consists of romance novels and battery powered assistance. Margaret Marshall is a mother, a career woman, the breadwinner and bed maker and hand-wiper and chauffeur to Mila Marshall.

Margaret Marshall was not the woman in that bedroom. That was...I blush again, reminiscing about one orgasm after the next. I’d lost count at some point. Three blurred into four, and was there a fifth? Not that it matters. The only thing that matters now is the fact that my legs are jelly and my heart is pounding. And the fact that Tyler Daniels probably thinks I’m a nut.

This afternoon, I’d turned into someone else. Maggie-the-banshee. I must have cried out from Tyler’s touches a dozen times. I remember begging, I think I growled at him, and I definitely made some demands. Possibly a few dozen threats against his life, trying to convince him to stop being so damn selfless and let me give him the same pleasure he’d given me.

I’d tried to touch him, to take him, to return the feelings he’d given me, but he’d been firm in his denials. If I hadn’t gotten so limp with bliss, I might’ve fought back a little harder, but I’d been powerless to him. Mentally, physically, blissfully powerless.

He’d given selflessly, looking satisfied only once I begged him to give me rest with a pleasant little whimper. Only then did he curl against me and, together, we drifted off to sleep.

Now I’m stuck trying to make myself look less like a sex goddess. Apparently, my hair’s not cooperating, and there’s a new permanent flush on my cheeks. I know the second I walk out of here, Emily’s going to know. Luca and Jax, too, if they’re around. It’s not that I care, it’s just...I have to pick my daughter up. I have to put this afternoon out of my mind, slip back into my yoga pants, and turn on the mom.

Easing out of the bathroom, I’m painfully aware that my former undies are strewn haphazardly over the trash bin. I remind myself to snatch them up before I leave so Lelia doesn’t get any surprises when she comes to clean tomorrow.

There’s a new soreness between my legs, a pleasant one, and a satisfaction I can feel all the way to my bones. I don’t think I’ve ever been so thoroughly sexed. Then again, I don’t have a huge resume in that regard, so it’s unsurprising.

Tyler lets out a low whistle as I appear beside the bed. “Are you sure we can’t get Emily to pick up the girls?”

I give him a suggestive glance, but I shake my head. “I don’t think it’s possible to get anything more from me today. But, if you wanted to change your mind about having a turn...?”

I ease over to the bed, realizing that the whole sex goddess act isn’t entirely gone as I run my hand up his length and meet his gaze.

He sucks in a sharp breath, closes his eyes, and is temporarily rendered speechless.

“I guarantee you’d like it.” I tease, winking at him when his eyes flash open. “Or your money back.” At his expression, I laugh. “I’m kidding. Let me return the favor, Ty.”

“Ty,” he murmurs. “Haven’t heard that one in years.”

My hand grips him, and I can’t think of a response. He’s larger than I remember, so big and strong all over, and for a brief moment, I wonder how it’ll work. If he’ll actually fit inside of me. I’m obviously a little out of practice.

“It’ll work,” he groans, as if reading my mind. He’s watching my face, my amazement as I stroke him. “Believe me, honey. I’m counting down the days until I get you alone again.”

“Days?!” There’s a horror in my voice that makes him laugh. I can’t seem to shake the fog though, and all I can do is repeat myself. “Days?”

In a flash, he’s pulled me onto the bed, situating me over his lap. His length teases me, presses against the bare skin underneath my dress, and I let out a sizzle as I imagine pulling his boxers down and sliding onto him.

Bliss. That’s the only thing on my mind.

Until responsibility kicks in.

“The girls, school,” I moan. “I need...”

“I can feel what you need, sweetheart.” He moves against me, sending sizzles of pleasure across my skin.

“But...” I’m panting, searching for an argument.

He squeezes my hips, pressing me harder against him. My hands come to rest on his shoulders and, before I know it, my fingers are digging into his skin, and I’m grinding against him.

“Baby, baby,” he says, slowing me down. “You can’t make me finish without being inside you.”

“But—” I seem to be stuck on that word.

“But nothing,” he growls, nipping at my neck. “We don’t have enough time right now.”

“When can we...?” I’m glad he can read my mind because the sentences are coming out completely unfinished.

“My mom’s happy to have Jess for a sleepover,” he says. “Just tell me when. Five minutes isn’t enough to start what I have planned for you.”

With a pain that threatens to rip me apart, I disentangle myself from him and step back. “How do you do that to me?”

He raises his eyebrow, gestures to his boxers. “Look what you do to me.”

I nod, admitting to the silent admiration I have for the view before me. The image is impressive.

“I still can’t believe you didn’t let me have you,” I whine. “At all. I want you inside me—so badly.”

“Honey, if all goes according to plan, we can have a lifetime of...” he pauses and waggles his eyebrows.

The thought sends streaks of hot all over. Half the hot streaks are due to bliss, the other half are nerves. I’m not ready to jump so fully into this. I’m not ready to give in to love, not yet. I’ll never recover if it doesn’t last.

“I love you, Maggie.” Tyler’s face turns serious, his gaze focused on me.

“Please, Tyler don’t say that—”

A sob builds in my throat, and I turn away before he can see the tears pooling in my eyes. “I think you should go.”

“Hey,” Tyler says, stopping me with one hand circling my wrist. He’s big and sturdy, and there’s no moving him. “Don’t doubt anything about today; it was perfect. And this is only the beginning for us.”

He’s so intense that my breath hitches in my throat. The sob that’s been waiting to escape finally does, and as the first tears appear on my cheeks, I lean in to kiss him.

And, again, I press my lips to his. I take, and Tyler gives.