Alex Kava Bundle - Alex Kava [98]
“Jesus, Maggie.”
“It comes with the territory. It’s not that unusual.” She closed her eyes and massaged the throbbing in her temples. “No one answered the phone at the rectory for hours. Plenty of time to make a trip to the airport and back.”
When she opened her eyes, Nick was studying her. She sat up, suddenly feeling exposed under his concerned gaze. His chair was close to the bed. Their knees almost touched. The room started spinning, tipping to the right, setting everything off balance. She almost expected the furniture to start sliding.
“Maggie, are you okay?”
She looked into his blue eyes and felt the electrical current even before his fingers touched her face and his palm caressed her cheek. She leaned into it, closing her eyes again and allowing her body to absorb the spinning and the electricity. Suddenly, she vaulted from his touch, scrambling from the bed and from him. Her breathing was uneven, and she steadied herself with both hands, leaning against the dresser. She looked up and saw him in the mirror, behind her. Their eyes met in the reflection, and she held his gaze even though what she saw in his eyes made her stomach flutter. This time it wasn’t because of the alcohol.
She watched as he came up behind her, so close she felt his breath on her neck even before he leaned down to kiss it. The Packers jersey had slipped off her shoulder, and she watched in the mirror as his soft, wet lips moved slowly, deliberately from her neck to her shoulder to her back. By the time they moved up her neck again, she had trouble breathing.
“Nick, what are you doing?” she gasped, surprised by her reaction and no longer able to control it.
“I’ve wanted to touch you for days.”
His tongue flicked at her earlobe, and her knees went weak. She leaned back against him, afraid she’d fall.
“This isn’t a good idea.” It came out as a whisper, not the least bit convincing. And it certainly didn’t stop his big, steady hands from coming around her waist, one palm flat against her stomach, sending a shiver down her back and the flutter from her stomach down between her legs.
“Nick.” It was useless. She couldn’t talk, couldn’t breathe, and his gentle, urgent mouth was devouring her in soft, wet explorations while his hands made their way up her body. She noticed one had a bandage wrapped around the knuckles. She wanted to ask what had happened, but she couldn’t concentrate on anything except her breathing.
She watched in the mirror as his hands moved over her breasts, swallowing them and beginning their circular caress, rendering her completely helpless. It was too much. It was sensory overload. She was already wet between her legs before one of his hands strayed and began to caress her there, the fingers gentle and expert. She was close to the edge when finally she found enough strength to twist herself around to face him, to push him away. But when her hands came up to his chest, they betrayed her, beginning their own exploration and unbuttoning his shirt, desperate to gain access to his skin.
He actually trembled when his mouth finally found hers. She hesitated, surprised by her own moans, her own urgency. His mouth urged her on with delicate but persistent nibbles until she couldn’t stand it any longer and kissed him back with the same urgency. Again, her body seemed powerless, and she leaned against the dresser attempting to find relief from the magnetic force of his hot body. She was gasping for air when his mouth left hers and made its way to her neck and then down to her breasts, sucking at her nipples through the cotton of the jersey and sending a jolt so powerful she clung to the dresser top.
“Oh, God, Nick,” she gasped. She needed to stop, couldn’t stop. The room was spinning again. Her ears ringing. Her heart banging against her rib cage and her blood rushing from her head. That constant ringing. No, it wasn’t her ears. It was the phone. The phone—reality—pulled her back from the edge.
“Nick…the phone,” she managed.
He was kneeling in front of her. He stopped and looked up, his hands on her waist, his eyes filled