Whispered Secrets by Elizabeth Lennox
Chapter 12
A week later, Oliver stepped out of his truck and Maggie almost threw herself into his arms. “Are you okay?” Maggie demanded. She’d been waiting for him all day.
“I’m fine,” he replied, his wonderfully strong arms wrapping around her and pulling her in close. “Why are you so worried?”
She pulled out of his arms and glared up at him, punching him lightly on the arm. “Because you weren’t here with me when I woke up this morning,” she explained angrily. “And you didn’t answer my messages!”
He sighed and pulled her back into his arms. “I’m sorry, honey.” He kissed her lightly. “I was in meetings all day. But I should have texted you. I’m sorry. I will do better.”
Slightly mollified, she shrugged. “I was just…worried that maybe Jerry was still in town.”
“He isn’t. He flew back to Texas late last night.”
Maggie blinked, confused, but he put his arm around her waist and led her away from the parking lot. “How in the world could you know that?”
He chuckled and kissed the top of her head. “Oh, I have a few resources that I can pull in when I need information,” he said vaguely. “But we’re not going to worry about Jerry the Putz tonight.”
“We’re not?” she laughed, thinking he was so darn sexy.
“Nope. I need your help with something.”
She laughed again, playfully slipping out of his arms but he grabbed her easily, pulling her right back to his side. “Oh no!” she teased. “You said something yesterday about helping me in my shower. And then we ran out of hot water while I still had shampoo in my hair.”
He shot her an evil grin. “I didn’t hear you complaining before the hot water ran out,” he growled, nipping at her earlobe.
Maggie shivered. “That’s because you were…well…doing that and…!” she stopped speaking but the hot blush washed over her face.
“Yeah. I remember. You weren’t complaining,” he came right back. “In fact, I distinctly remember you saying something along the lines of ‘don’t stop’ and ‘oh yes’ as well as many other very emphatic phrases.” He shook his head in mock despair. “You know that I’m a gentleman and would have stopped if I’d known you were worried about running out of hot water.”
She groaned. “You’re horrible.” She also hugged his arm. “What do you need help with?”
He kissed her again and she smiled, leaning her head against his muscular shoulder as they walked down the sidewalk towards their apartments.
“Come with me,” he said, and led her to his apartment. After unlocking the door, he pulled her inside and…Maggie gasped.
“What have you done?” she demanded, stepping into the apartment and turning slowly around. “This…this isn’t the apartment that I gave you over a month ago, Oliver.”
He grinned, leaning back against the door. “What do you think?”
She stopped, admiring the dove grey walls with the freshly painted white trim…all of which had been replaced. The outlets had been fixed, with new equipment, and the popcorn ceiling had been smoothed over and repainted. Even the overhead lights had been upgraded. The eighties style dome lights had been replaced with recessed lighting! It looked amazing!
“When did you have time to do all of this, Oliver?” she asked softly. But she came to a stop when her eyes took in the kitchen area. “The cabinets…?” she whispered.
“I took them down.”
“But…” her eyes moved lower. “You painted the old cabinets?”
“Yes. And fixed the hardware. The cabinet doors close properly now.”
She nodded dumbly, then lifted her hand, pointing towards the beautiful, ornate tile backsplash. “The tiles?” she whispered.
He turned and looked over at the kitchen wall. “Yeah,” he muttered, rubbing a hand along the back of his neck. “That was before that morning in the laundry room,” he explained with a chuckle. “I was pretty frustrated.”
She turned, unaware of her mouth hanging open as she looked up at him. “Frustrated?”
He nodded, walking over to her. He stopped right in front of her, putting his hands on her hips and pulling her closer. “Yeah. You kept walking around in those tight jeans and–”
“My jeans aren’t that tight!” she corrected, her hands flying to her butt as if her hands could hide the body part in question.
He chuckled. “Tight enough for me to drool every time I watched you running across the courtyard. Away from me.”
Maggie shuffled uncomfortably. “I wasn’t running away from you.”
His hands slid along her waist, teasing her by not touching her breasts.
“Yeah, you were,” he countered. “You were running and I wasn’t chasing for fear of driving you further away. It wasn’t until I showed up at the girls’ soccer practice that I finally got a chance to have a conversation with you.”
Maggie looked flustered and he loved it! “Well, that was…just…I wasn’t…!”
“It’s all good now,” he told her and kissed her gently. “After meeting Jerry the Putz, I understand why you were running. You didn’t want to be hurt again.”
She stared up at him, startled that he understood so completely. “Yes. Well. He asked for my engagement ring back at my grandmother’s funeral.”
Oliver emitted a sound of disgust, shaking his head. “He’s an ass, Maggie,” Oliver declared. “That was unnecessarily cruel.”
Maggie slipped her arms up around his neck, so she could run her fingers through his hair. “So…what kind of help did you need?” she asked. “It looks as if you’ve done more than fine so far.”
He shifted his hips and, after a smile that should have warned her of his intent, he lifted her up and placed her on the wood countertop behind her.
“What are you doing?” she half-laughed, half-shrieked, trying to wiggle off the counter.
“I need you right here,” he said as his hands slid up her sides to cup her breasts, teasing the already taut nipples.
Maggie gasped, arching her back, but when he started to move his hands away, she grabbed his wrists, keeping them in place. “More,” she whispered.
In response, Oliver pinched her nipples, inciting a whimper of pleasure and Maggie leaned into his touch, already desperate with need.
“Please, don’t stop!”
“Not a chance”, he replied. His mouth moved to cover those lusciously abused peaks, adding the moist heat to the pressure of his finger. Tightening his fingers as his tongue lashed the tips, Maggie was completely lost to the sensations. Her fingers dove into his hair, pulling and tugging, then holding him in place when she thought he might stop. She felt his mouth curl into a smile, but Maggie was too far gone to make sense of that smile.
A second later, she was lifted into his arms, roughly carried to…somewhere. She felt something soft against her back, but couldn’t think beyond getting his clothes off of him so that she could feel the roughness of his chest against her already sensitive nipples.
“Oliver!” she whispered…or moaned…either adjective might apply at this moment.
“Tell me what you want,” he growled, nipping in her ear.
“You!” she replied quickly, shifting her hips against his, telling him without words.
He pulled her tee-shirt up and over her head, tossing it to the side. Maggie didn’t like the inequity of that, so she slid her hands from his hair, all the way down his arms…then lower until she could feel the tanned skin of his abdomen. With exquisite pleasure, she pushed the material higher and higher. When he took over the removal, Maggie concentrated on kissing the wide expanse of his chest, her tongue flicking out occasionally to taste. She smiled, loving the sounds that he made whenever she did that.
Slowly, she moved lower, pushing at Oliver’s shoulders when he started to take control. “Not this time,” she told him, letting her fingers slide over his chest, ensuring that her fingertips grazed over his flat, male nipples. She smiled when a shudder rocked his big body, then pressed him backwards, shifting so that she was on top of him.
“Think you’re in control?” he asked, his hands sliding underneath her jeans, his big hands palming her butt.
“Yeah,” she whispered, kissing his stomach as her fingers fiddled with the button on his jeans. Slowly, watching his face as her fingers lowered the zipper, making sure that her knuckles brushed against the straining erection, she pushed the denim out of the way. A second later, she was lifted off of him and Maggie opened her mouth to protest. But Oliver merely stood up, shucked off his jeans and boxers, then laid back down on his back, pulling her back into position.
“Nice,” she laughed softly, then proceeded to kiss her way lower and lower.
“Maggie, I can’t…”
“Let me,” she urged, glancing up at him. “Please?”
He made some sort of sound, but Maggie was too turned on to interpret what he was trying to tell her. So instead, she wrapped her fingers around his erection, her tongue flicking against the tip. Oliver might have said something, or perhaps it was just another sound. Maggie wasn’t sure as she licked and kissed and explored with her tongue, her fingers and her mouth. When she finally wrapped her mouth around his shaft, Oliver hissed as if she’d just burned him. Maggie ignored those sounds and continued to taste and explore and…well, generally see how far she could push him.
Not very far, it turns out. Oliver’s hands lifted her up, pulling her so that she was once again straddling his waist. His hands gripped her hips, then slid up to cup her breasts. “Payback, Maggie,” he warned her as his thumbs flicked against her nipples.
A second later, he slid lower. Maggie was so startled by his movement, she looked down. She had barely a brief glance at the mischievous look in his eyes before his hands gripped her hips and his mouth…his mouth! Dear heaven, his mouth latched onto that swollen nub and Maggie almost cried. Losing her balance, she reached out to grip the wall, her hips rolling so that his mouth was hitting the right spot. Vaguely, she felt Oliver’s hands on her hips again, holding her in place, but Maggie was lost to conscious thought as Oliver’s magical mouth did that thing…and his tongue!
The climax crept up on her this time. It was slow and lazy, Oliver’s tongue darting out at exactly the right pace to bring her higher and higher, but not over the edge. Maggie whimpered, her fingers curling into fist. She wanted to hit him! She wanted to…do something! She wasn’t sure what!
With a cry of outrage, she tried to move away from him. She was so close! So frustratingly close! But Oliver wasn’t…he wasn’t doing it right! And that just…!
“Stay here,” Oliver ordered.
The tone! Oh, the tone! It was so full of command and power and she wanted to hit him and love him and kiss him and…! “Yes!” she whimpered, reaching down to grab a hunk of his hair. “Yes!” she screamed now as he applied his tongue to that nub, his mouth closing over it and sucking until the climax was rushing through her, causing her whole body to shiver and shake and tumble!
Oliver wanted to roar with satisfaction as he grabbed hold of Maggie, shifting their positions so that he was over her now. He grabbed a condom and, while he rolled the protection down over himself, looked at her smile of amazement. He’d done that to her! He wanted to beat his chest and howl. Instead, he took one of her legs, pulled her knee up over his shoulder, then thrust into her heat. The smile was gone, replaced by a stunned expression. Her eyes widened, but her hips shifted to accommodate him.
“You’re mine!” he growled, needing to banish that bastard from Maggie’s mind. He never wanted her to think of that prick again. Only him. He wanted to imprint himself on her, both her body and her soul, until she couldn’t think of anything or anyone but him! Because god knew that she was about all he could think about lately! It was only fair that she was in the same state of torment that he was in all the time.
Thrusting slowly at first, then picking up speed as she lifted her hips, meeting him thrust for thrust until he felt the sharp prickles of her fingernails against his skin. That’s when he knew she was close! So beautifully close! Her eyes had been closed, but when she was this close, her eyes opened and she looked up at him. He understood that look. She wasn’t sure what to do. Maggie, his beautiful Maggie, wasn’t sure how to bring herself over that edge. And it made Oliver want to howl with righteous perfection as he shifted his hips, his finger sliding down over her stomach to tease that too-sensitive nub until….! Damn, she was so beautiful as she thrust against him as another climax hit her, causing those inner muscles to clench around his shaft so tightly, Oliver couldn’t hold back another second. Everything went blank as the pleasure hit him and he poured himself into her body.
When it was all over, Oliver collapsed against her, pulling her into his arms as he tried to bring enough oxygen into his lungs. Maggie! His Maggie! Damn, she was so perfect!
Maggie sighed and opened her eyes, staring at the clean, white ceiling. “Wow!” she sighed.
He laughed and the vibrations tickled her stomach where his mouth rested against the soft curve of her belly. “Is that because of the ceiling that used to be yellow and mysteriously stained? Or was your response due to my superior skills as a lover?”
Maggie bit her lip and pretended to think about his question for a moment, then giggled when he swatted her playfully on her bottom. “Well, the ceiling is very impressive!”
With a growl, he scooped her up and carried her off to the bedroom. “You’ll pay for that my dear,” he warned her. Then set her down on the new bathroom vanity and moved over to turn on the shower.
“Good grief, Oliver!” Maggie breathed, looking around at the sparkling new white tiles and the pristine black and white tile flooring. “How in the world did you get all this done so fast?” she asked.
He explained while he tested the water temperature. “I told you, I was frustrated watching you wiggle that cute butt around in those jeans. I needed an outlet, something to focus on instead of wondering how to get in your panties.”
She laughed and wrapped her arms around his shoulders as he picked her up again. “Crude, and yet, somehow flattering.”
“You are beautiful,” he replied, kissing her lips. “You are sexy, smart, and beyond lovely.”
She giggled. “Better.” She kissed him as he put her down in the shower. “And you are handsome, sexy, and,” she leaned up to press a kiss to his lips, “I love exploring every inch of this magnificent body of yours.”
Oliver shook his head as he grabbed the soap. “You’re just trying to distract me, woman,” he growled and spun her around so that her back was to his chest so that he could soap her up. “But it won’t work! I have chores for you. I need your help, if you’ll recall.”
Maggie cracked up. “I wasn’t the one who put me on the counter!” She snatched the soap before he could get too friendly with it and spun around, rubbing the bar of soap over his massive chest and shoulders and biceps and…well, everywhere. “You’re the one who started the distractions.” Although, Maggie was intensely distracted at the moment.
