Brenda Harlen - The Maverick's Thanksgiving Baby

“I guess it is,” he agreed. “Although there are more reasons than pregnancy for using protection.”

“Oh.” She blushed. “Of course.”

“But there’s been no one since you,” he said sincerely. “And no one for more than six months before that.”

She took the square packet out of his hand. “Then we don’t need this,” she said, and set it on the bedside table.

He parted her legs and settled between them, burying himself deep in one thrust as she arched up to meet him.

He groaned in appreciation as she wrapped her legs around his hips. “You feel...so...good.”

“You make me feel good,” she told him.

He smiled at that and lowered his head to kiss her, long and slow and deep, as he moved inside her.

Maggie had never thought of herself as a particularly sensual woman. She certainly wasn’t the type to get carried away by passion. She’d always thought sex was enjoyable, if unremarkable, but that was before she’d had sex with Jesse.

Over the past few months, she’d decided that her memories of the one night they’d spent together had been exaggerated by her imagination. It wasn’t really possible that just standing close to him had made her knees weak, that breathing in his unique scent could make her insides quiver, that the touch of his mouth against her was enough to make her bones melt. Of course it wasn’t. For some reason, she’d romanticized the memory, turned their one-night affair into something it never was and was never meant to be.

And then she’d seen him again, and her knees had gone weak. He’d stepped closer to her, and her insides had quivered. It didn’t matter that his gaze had been guarded and his tone had been cool. All that mattered was he was there, and every nerve ending in her body was suddenly and acutely aware of him, aching for him.

Then, finally, he’d touched her. Just a brush of his hand over her hair, but that was enough to have her heart hammering inside of her chest. And then he kissed her, and not just her bones but everything inside of her had melted into a puddle of need. There was no thought or reason, there was only want. Hot and sharp and desperate.

As he moved inside of her now, she felt the connection between them. Not just the physical mating of their bodies but the joining of their souls. Maybe it was fantastical, but it was how she felt. She couldn’t think of anything but Jesse, didn’t want anyone but him.

The delicious friction between their bodies was every bit as incredible as she’d remembered—maybe even more. Every stroke, every thrust, sent little shock waves zinging through her blood. She could feel the anticipation building inside of her. Her body arched and strained, meeting him willingly, eagerly, aching for the ecstasy and fulfillment she’d only ever found in his arms.

Her hands gripped his shoulders, her fingers digging into his muscles, her nails scoring his skin. Her breath came in quick, shallow gasps as he drove her higher and higher to the pinnacle of their mutual pleasure.

Yes.

Please.

More.

And he gave her more. With his hands and his lips and his body, he gave and he gave until it was more than she could take. Pleasure poured through her, over her, a tidal wave of sensation that was so intense it stole her breath, her thoughts, her vision. There was nothing but bliss...and Jesse.

He was everything.

With a last thrust and a shudder, he collapsed on top of her, his face buried in the pillow beside her head.

She lifted a hand to his shoulder, let it trail down his back. His deliciously sculpted and tightly muscled body was truly a woman’s fantasy—and he’d proven more than capable of satisfying every one of her fantasies, even the ones she hadn’t realized that she had.

He lifted his weight off her, shifted so that he was beside her. But he kept his arm around her, holding her close. “Are you okay?” he asked.

Her lips curved. “I’m very okay.”

He pulled her closer, so that her back was snug against his front and her head was tucked beneath his chin. “I almost forgot how good it was between us.”

“I tried to convince myself it couldn’t have been as good as I remembered.” It was somehow easier to make the admission without looking at him. “But I was wrong.”

“I missed you, Maggie.”

“I missed you, too. But this...chemistry,” she decided, for lack of a better term, “between us doesn’t really change anything.”

“You don’t think so?”

“Wanting you—and wanting to be with you—doesn’t alter the fact that our lives are twelve hundred miles apart.”

“We’ll figure it out,” he told her.

He made it sound so easy, but Maggie knew there wasn’t a simple answer. His suggestion that they should get married and raise their baby together wasn’t a viable one. She couldn’t—wouldn’t—give up her career and her life in LA simply because he wanted to be a hands-on parent to their child. She admired his willingness to step up and respected his commitment to his ideals of fatherhood, but she was determined to focus on reality. And the reality was that her life, her family and her career were in California.

It wasn’t likely that they were going to figure anything out—certainly not easily. She suspected it was more likely that there would be a lot of disagreement before any decisions were made, but it wasn’t a battle she wanted to wage right now. Not while she was cradled in the warm strength of his arms, her body still sated from their lovemaking.

Within a few minutes, his breathing had evened out, and she knew he’d fallen asleep. As her own eyes started to drift shut, she found herself thinking about his impromptu offer of marriage. Not that she intended to accept—there were too many reasons to refuse, too many barriers to a relationship between them. But she couldn’t deny that the prospect of sharing a bed with him for more than a few hours was undeniably tempting.

Chapter Four

When Jesse woke up, he was alone.

He could still smell Maggie’s scent on his sheets, and there was an indent on the pillow where she’d slept, so he knew she couldn’t have been gone long. He rose from his bed and moved to the window.

He didn’t realize that his chest felt tight until he saw that her rental car was behind his truck in the driveway and the tension lessened. He’d been left with nothing more than a note on his kitchen table once before, and he didn’t want to go through that again. He hadn’t chased after Shaelyn—he’d had no interest in forcing her to stay in Rust Creek Falls when it was obvious she didn’t want to be there.

But the situation with Maggie was different—she was carrying his baby, and that meant they had to figure out a way to work things out. If she had gone, he would have chased after her. He was glad he didn’t have to.

He retrieved his jeans from the floor and tugged them on, then shoved his arms into the sleeves of his shirt and headed down the stairs. He found her standing at the stove, a spatula in her hand. The pressure in his chest eased a little more.

A glance at the numeric display on the stove revealed that it was after eight o’clock. “I guess we skipped dinner.”

She looked up and offered a shy smile. “I hope you don’t mind—I woke up hungry, and I thought you might be, too.”

“I don’t and I am,” he told her. “French toast?”

“Is that okay?”

“Perfect.”

She flipped the last piece of bread out of the frying pan and onto the plate, then carried the plate to the table, already set for two.

As she sat down across from him, he put a couple of slices on his plate, then liberally doused them with maple syrup. She took one slice, slowly ate it, cutting neat little squares that she dipped in a tiny puddle of syrup on her plate.