She knows exactly what I want now and tilts her hips and arches her back—ready and eagerly waiting. I put a hand on her hip and guide myself into her. She inhales sharply, still sensitive from her orgasm, I’m sure, so I promise myself I will go slow. But I’m surrounded by slick heat, still pulsing from her release, and I grunt.
“Maggie, fuck me,” I groan and my hips snap. She huffs out a sharp breath.
“This position is all aboutyoufuckingme, Tate, not the other way around,” she replies and rolls her hips. “Now get to it.”
I grab both hips and give her what she demands. I know I won’t be able to keep this up too long. She’s too tight and too wet. I’m going to come quick and hard, so I pump harder and drop forward, blanketing her back with my chest and moving one hand to her breasts and the other to her clit. She whimpers when my fingers gently pinch her nipple and then again, louder, when my thumb rubs her clit.
Her hips start keeping rhythm with my thrusts, and when I can’t fight it anymore I groan and come, softly biting her shoulder as I do.
“Tate…” She’s said my name a million times and I’ve always wished she hadn’t. But when she moans it…hell I could hear that all day. She falls forward, facedown on the bed and I fall on top of her, my face buried in her hair, my lips kissing the nape of her neck.
We stay like that for a few minutes, naked in a tangled heap, until finally she whispers. “You’re heavy.”
I grin and roll off. She scoots, belly down, to the edge of the bed and grabs her dress. I’m suddenly very aware—and very sad—that it’s over. And now it’s starting to feel awkward as the reality of what we did—again—sets in. I clear my throat, get off the bed and grab my pants and underwear. I head into her bathroom and clean up, tossing the condom in her trash can. When I come back out to find my shirt, she’s got her bra and dress back on and she’s yanking her undies up those perfect legs. I stop and admire the view.
“Don’t do that,” she says firmly. “Don’t look at me like you’re turned on.”
“But I am.” I shrug.
She smiles, clearly happy with that, even though she doesn’t want to be. “You hate me, remember?”
“You hate me too,” I remind her as I walk over and stop directly in front of her, reaching up and gently smoothing her hair which has that just-been-fucked tousle to it. “But for some godforsaken reason you’re turned on by me too. Personality-wise we might be oil and water but sexually, we’re…”
“Goat cheese and caramelized onion?” She suggests and I frown. “What? It works really well together. You want a guaranteed mouthgasm, try it.”
“I’ll stick with the other kind of ’gasm, thanks,” I say and bend to grab my shirt off the floor. But I don’t put it on right away because I’m enjoying the way her eyes keep sweeping over my chest and torso. “Anyway, we definitely know how to push each other’s buttons sexually. I’ll be honest, I’ve never had hotter sex.”
“Me either,” Maggie admits easily, which I wasn’t expecting. She sighs. “It’s because we hate each other. We’re not trying to impress each other, we’re both just trying to get off.”
“Probably,” I reply but honestly, I’m not so sure it’s that simple. I really wish it was though.
“Put on your shirt, Tate,” she demands.
“Why? You scared you’re going to jump my bones again?” I ask with a grin. She laughs.
“You wish.” She gives me a little shove with her hand in the center of my chest and I slap my own hand over it and keep it there. Now the awkwardness is being pushed out of the atmosphere in the room and lust is making its way back in.
Until her damn phone rings from inside her book bag. She pulls her hand away and scurries out into the hall to retrieve it. I finish getting dressed and wander out to find her standing there with a scowl on her face and the phone a couple inches from her ear because the person on the other end is yelling. It’s her grandfather. I can hear him like he’s standing in the room.
“Is this what you and that sister of yours think is good business?” he’s screaming.
“It was a gamble. Sometimes in business you have to take risks, Clyde,” Maggie replies, through gritted teeth. She wants to tell him to fuck off, but she can’t. I wish I could.
“You’re the one who wanted this fall market so bad and you’re giving up a prime weekend. Because you were too stupid to win a bet,” Clyde barks. “Another perfect example of why I should sell the farm. It would be better off in someone else’s hands. Someone with some business sense.”
“Tell him you’ll get the weekend back,” I whisper and she glares at me.
“You’re not being fair, Clyde. It was Daisy and my idea to switch from cow milk to goat and we’ve improved our profit margin. And we’ve got other expansion plans that are built around a solid business plan and you know it,” Maggie argues back. “But if you still want to sell the farm to someone instead of keeping it in the family, I’ll talk to the Adlers and see if they want to buy it.”
She punches end and drops the phone on top of her bag, still in the middle of the hall where she let it fall when I threw her over my shoulder. I watch her lean against the wall and run her hands through her bed head. Her eyes catch mine and I give her a soft smile. “We can’t afford to buy your farm but thanks for thinking of us.”
She lets out a soundless laugh. “I know. Hank and Daisy are close. He’s said you guys are…tight on cashflow at the moment.”
I tense and decide to change the subject. “It’s cute, though, that my family is the ultimate threat.”
She gives me a smile but it’s flat and there’s no humor in it. “I’m sure it would be the same in your house.”
“Probably. I’ll have to try it out sometime,” I reply. She looks so down, I don’t like it. “He shouldn’t talk to you like that.”
