Whispered Secrets by Elizabeth Lennox

Chapter 9

Maggie was going insane.  That was the only possible explanation for what was going on inside her head.  She couldn’t sleep, ate way too many cookies, and her brain felt as if it were spinning out of control. 

Oliver was always around!  He was with her during their soccer practices on Tuesday and Thursday nights, and after every game, he walked her home, leaving her on her doorstep with a gentle kiss when he lifted her hand to his lips.  On Saturday morning, he showed up at the community garden.  He dug up potatoes, beets, and carrots.  He plucked apples out of the tree faster than anyone else.  He even hauled the harvest to the Center and helped cook it up and distribute to the neighborhood residents.  That was her thing!  She loved handing out the bags of whatever was harvested that day, feeling as if she were accepting gifts from the earth and sharing them with the world. 

But Maggie couldn’t ask him to stop.  When Oliver was there, people laughed.  He was charming and funny.  He got down on his knees and played tic-tac-toe with chalk on the asphalt, then joined in an impromptu soccer game with the teens.  Oliver sat with the seniors and listened to their stories.  Really listened!  She even stopped by the nursery one morning and caught him with three toddlers piled into his lap, reading them stories, patiently re-reading the pages whenever the children asked. 

Yep.  It was insanity, she told herself.  There was no other explanation for what was going on in her mind.  Every moment of the day, she thought about him.  And there was no place for her to hide.  He’d invaded her normal hiding places and it made her dizzy with…hope? 

No, that was impossible.  She’d lost any kind of hope the day she’d left Texas so long ago. 

Hope was a pointless emotion, she reminded herself as she carried her basket of dirty clothes to the laundry room.  Hope was a waste of time. 

Shoving the heavy metal door open, she sighed as she…came to a complete stop. 

“Damn it!” she muttered when she spotted Oliver standing beside a dryer, about to put laundry detergent onto his dirty clothes.  Goodness, he looked adorable holding up the detergent bottle to the light so he could read the instructions. 

Maggie shook her head.  “Just walk away,” she whispered to herself. 

He must have heard her mumbling because he jumped slightly and those amazing blue eyes of his narrowed in on her standing there in the doorway.  Immediately, she knew she’d lost her chance for a strategic retreat.  It was obvious that she was holding a ton of dirty clothes.  So if she backed away now, he’d know that she was a chicken. 

Self-preservation was a funny thing, she thought. Then she realized what he was about to do and…!

“Don’t!” she yelped when Oliver measured out the laundry detergent and his hand headed towards the dryer opening. 

“Don’t put laundry detergent in?”

She laughed at his confused expression.

“Correct.  That would be a bad idea,” she replied, stepping all the way into the laundry room.  Of course, it was Monday night and most of the other residents would have done their laundry over the weekend.  Which was why she normally did her laundry on Monday, to free up the washers and dryers for others.

“Why wouldn’t I put the laundry detergent in now?  Should I put it in later?”

Maggie couldn’t hide her amusement.  He was so cute!  In a sexy, overly muscular, alpha male sort of way.  His arms and shoulders pulled the material of his tee shirt tight over the muscles and his stomach was impressively flat.  The jeans he wore looked…amazing on his long, muscular legs and…well, there was just something inherently sexy about a man doing laundry, she thought.  That might be weird, but in Maggie’s mind, it was hot!

“Well, yes.  You definitely need to put laundry detergent into the washing machine.”

“So…what’s the problem?”

She dumped her heavy basket on the table. “That’s the dryer.  Not the washing machine.”

He frowned at the large, metal machine, then down at the laundry detergent.  After a moment, he shook his head and sighed.  “Obviously, I’m new at this.”

She laughed again.  “Yeah, I get that,” she told him.  “Since I was in the same situation not too long ago, I’ll take pity on you and give you some pointers.”  She walked over to the line of washers.  “These are the washing machines.”  She pointed to the line next to him.  “Those are dryers.  If you put the laundry detergent onto your clothes, then turn on that machine, you’ll simply cook the detergent into your clothes and make an even bigger mess.”

Maggie knew that she was in big trouble when he grinned.  Darn it, a man who could laugh at himself was dangerous! 

“Okay, excellent tip!  Put the clothes into the correct machine first.”

With that, he grabbed his laundry basket and started loading his clothes back in.  “So, is there a trick to the washing machine?” he asked. 

She laughed, unable to hide her amusement at what should be a normal task for any adult. 

“Well, the first thing you do is sort the clothes,” she explained, waving for him to bring his laundry over to the washing machine.  She pointed to the washer next to hers.  Oliver and she started loading clothes into the machines.  “It looks like most of your dirty clothes are jeans, so I’d recommend that you do those separately.  When there are multiple machines available, it’s easier to get multiple loads done quickly.”

He stuffed his jeans into the washing machine, watching as Maggie sorted her jeans as well. “My jeans don’t fill up this washer.  Why don’t you put your jeans in here with mine?” he suggested.

Maggie froze, startled by his suggestion.  She looked up at him, holding a pair of her well-worn jeans above a separate washing machine. 

Since she was still stunned by his offer, he took the pair of jeans from her and stuffed them into the washer.  “We’ll save time and money doing it this way,” he explained, and reached around her to grab the other pairs of jeans from her laundry basket. 

As he did that, Maggie held her breath, realizing that she was literally cocooned by his body, his chest pressing against her back, his arms surrounding her in the most delightful, wonderful, dangerous way.  She stifled a moan of desire as she gripped the washing machine tightly and closed her eyes, waiting for him to finish collecting her jeans. 

Maggie wanted to tell him that they should do separate loads, but she could barely think, much less breathe or form coherent words.

“Are you okay, Maggie?” he asked softly, his breath brushing tantalizingly over the sensitive shell of her ear. 

“I’m fine!” she squeaked.

His chest pressed more firmly against her back, so close that she could easily feel his muscles flex as he grabbed the last pair of jeans. 

“Yes, you are,” he said, kissing the top of her head.

When he was back in front of the fully loaded washer, she took a slow, deep, shaky breath, trying to bring herself back to “normal”. 

“Um…” she blinked, trying to remember the next step in the clothes-washing process.  She glanced over at the washing machine filled with jeans and took another slow, deep breath. 

“Does that help?” he asked.

Maggie inhaled sharply when she saw the intensity in his eyes.  Good grief, he was feeling it too! 

“Detergent,” she whispered. 

Never in her life had washing dirty clothes been an erotic experience!

“How much?” he asked, lifting his jug of detergent. 

Blinking again to try to center her thoughts, she breathed in and out.  Oliver was just…doing laundry.  Right?

“Maggie?” he prompted. 

“Hmmm?” she asked, noticing the light circle of golden yellow around his blue irises. 

He moved closer.  “How much laundry detergent should I use?” he asked, his voice low and husky and incredibly sexy.  How in the world could a question about laundry detergent come out sounding like a caress?  It was almost as if the man was asking her how much she wanted him to kiss her! 

A lot, would have been her answer. 

“Um…” she breathed in and out again.  “For a full load, measure up to the line on the laundry detergent cap.”

Maggie’s attention was captured by his long, tanned fingers as he tilted the cup and the laundry detergent bottle slightly, trying to see a barely visible line. 

“Got it,” he said, nodding as he poured the detergent.  “Just pour it in?”

“Well, sort of…drizzle it around,” she explained.  “So it is evenly distributed.”

He did so and closed the lid.  “Okay, now what?” he asked. 

“Move back,” she ordered.  “I’ll show you what to do next, but I can’t have you close to me.”

“Why not?” he asked, but he scooted over a few inches.

She reached over and pressed the buttons.  “Because my mind…” She sighed, and tried again. “Well, never mind.”  She took her credit card out of her back pocket and pressed several more buttons.  “There.  All set.”

When she turned around, he was right there!  He reached out and held her still, pressing her lightly back against the vibrating machine. 

“What’s next?” Oliver asked.  But he didn’t wait for her next instruction.  Instead, he kissed her, his lips brushing back and forth over hers, caressing her.  Teasing her.  Taunting her lips until she let out a shaky breath and kissed him back.

His hand lifted, gently cradling her head as he deepened the kiss further.  Maggie opened her mouth, wanting to taste him, to feel him more intimately.  Unconsciously, she moved her body closer, pressing against him and feeling his body respond. 

“Damn, Maggie!” Oliver groaned, lifting her up so that she was sitting on the washing machine now.  With deft hands, he pressed her legs wide and pushed his hips against hers.  Maggie gasped at the intimate contact, shocked for a moment and she pulled back, staring into his eyes. 

“Do you want me to stop?” he asked, his eyes heated as his hands slid up her jean-clad thighs. 

Maggie knew she should tell him yes.  So why did “No!” come out of her mouth?  It was the wrong word, she told herself.  But then her hands slid up his arms, her fingertips testing the hard planes and edges of his muscles.  “Don’t stop!” she whispered frantically as her legs curled around his hips, pulling him in closer.

Oliver’s response was to cup her bottom and pull her in even closer.  The pressure angled her body backwards ever so slightly and the pressure was even more intense! 

Then he was kissing her again.  His mouth was hard, his tongue soft, his fingers sliding under her tee-shirt as he explored her body.  Maggie couldn’t seem to stop making strange noises, nor could she stop her own fingers from moving along his body.  She wanted him naked and that was strange because she normally didn’t like the naked male body.  Oliver was just…different.  He fascinated her.  Or maybe it was simply the fact that his mouth, now moving along her neck, and his hands, sliding higher against her ribs, caused her mind to stop thinking.  She couldn’t focus on anything other than touching him and pressing herself against him, needing his fingers to touch her more, higher!  She needed his hands on her breasts! 

“I’m going to…!”

“Sorry!” a different voice gasped in surprise.

Maggie jerked away and Oliver groaned as both of them looked over at the doorway to the laundry room. 

“I’m sorry!” Molly called out again, her head turned away as she backed up, trying to get out of the area.

“Molly stop!” Maggie called out to her friend.

“No no!” Molly replied, balancing her laundry basket on her hip with one hand while holding her other out to stop them as she backed up another step. “I’m leaving!  Please…continue!”

Maggie pressed her hands against Oliver’s shoulders, nudging him backwards a bit.  “Molly, we’re leaving!” she assured her.  Taking Oliver’s hand, Maggie tugged him towards the door where Molly stood, frozen and obviously uncomfortable, trying to keep her eyes down on the floor.  “Our laundry is in the washing machines.  The others are all free.  You go ahead and…do your laundry.  We’ll just…”

Oliver was tugging her now, his fingers clasping her hand as he led her out of the laundry room.  “All yours,” he told Molly a moment before he pulled Maggie out into the sunshine. 

Once outside, Maggie stared up at Oliver.  Unfortunately, she couldn’t stop the laughter as it burst out of her.  She tried to cover her mouth with her hand, but Oliver was growling, tugging her down the sidewalk towards her apartment.

“This isn’t funny,” he warned.  “I’m in pain and you’re laughing at me.”

Maggie followed, almost running to keep up with him.  “I’m not laughing at you, Oliver,” she promised him. “I’m laughing at the situation.  I mean, of all of the places for a romantic interlude, the laundry room would have been the last option on my list.”

“Oh yeah?” he asked, turning around and sliding his fingers into the pockets of her jeans, causing Maggie to gasp in surprise.  “What would be the top option?”  He unlocked the door to her apartment, pushed it open and tugged her inside. 

“My top choice would be…!”

Oliver didn’t give her a chance to answer him.  He covered her mouth with his and kissed her again, pressing her back against the wall as his hands returned to her stomach, but this time, he didn’t hesitate.  His hands slid higher, cupping her breasts while his thumb ravaged her taut nipple. 

All thoughts of romantic scenes disappeared as lust overwhelmed her.  She lifted up onto her toes, needing to wrap her legs around him, needing to feel that pressure against her core again.  Instead, she felt his hands leave her breasts and she whimpered, her fingers tugging at his shirt.  She wanted it off.  She wanted all of his clothes gone! 

But then she felt his hands sliding against her bottom, his bare palms cupping her naked bottom. She didn’t have the brain capacity to figure that out, but she groaned when he lifted her into his arms.  Amazingly, her jeans and panties were gone.  Another time, she might wonder about how that had happened, but right now, she needed that pressure back.  Pressing her hips against his, she wiggled until she could feel that erection, then sighed with happiness when she found it. 

“You’re killing me, Maggie!” he growled, pulling his shirt off and dumping it onto the floor.

Were they moving?  She couldn’t tell because he was nibbling on her neck.  Yes, they must be moving because every step he took shifted that lovely, wonderful, impressive erection against her core. 

“We need to slow down, Maggie!” he growled, but a moment later, her tee-shirt almost ripped when he pulled it over her head.  A fraction of a second later, his mouth latched onto her nipple and Maggie almost screamed! 

“Don’t slow…down!” she gasped out, her hands moving over his back, wishing he’d get his damn pants off!  “You’re not naked!”

He laughed softly, but stood up and pushed his jeans and boxer briefs down, then stood up, gloriously naked and Maggie’s mouth fell open as she stared at him.  He started to move towards her, but then he stopped.

“What’s wrong?”

He shook his head as he bent to grab his jeans once more. “Nothing.  Stay there!” he ordered as he pulled a condom out of his pocket. 

“Just one?”

He laughed as he tore open the foil, rolling the condom down over his erection.  “I have more,” he promised her.

Maggie bit her lip, wanting to reach out to touch him.  She must have done that because the next thing she knew, he took her hands in his and pressed her back against the mattress.  “Now where were we?” he asked, his knees pressing her legs wider as his hips moved between hers. 

Maggie wanted to laugh, but that firm part of him was nudging at her opening.  She wanted so badly to take him in her hands and…and do something!  But she couldn’t seem to slow down! 

“I can’t…!” Oliver groaned, but he didn’t finish that sentence.  Instead, he thrust into her, hissing as her inner muscles clamped around his shaft.  “Damn, Maggie!”   His eyes closed as his head went back, but then he looked down at her, his eyes meeting hers as he waited for her body to adjust to his size.  “Tell me you’re okay!” he almost roared.  “Tell me I didn’t just hurt you!”

Maggie might have laughed, but her brain couldn’t send that message to her facial muscles.  Every part of her mind and body focused on the delicious feeling of him being a part of her.  “You…didn’t!” she gasped out, wiggling her hips in a desperate effort to get him to move.  “But I’m going to hurt you if you don’t…!” He moved!  Oh dear heaven!  The sensation of his body thrusting into hers once again was better than chocolate!  It was better than ice cream! 

“Oliv…” She couldn’t even finish speaking his name because he thrust again.  And again! 

Before she could slow anything down, Maggie felt the first tremors of a climax, her eyes wide as she gripped Oliver’s shoulders, unaware of her nails digging into his skin. 

“I’ve got you,” he told her.  Those words were the reassurance that she hadn’t known that she needed.  With a strangled sound, she arched her back as a climax convulsed over her body and Maggie might have screamed, she might have been silent.  She wasn’t sure.  It was all just so…amazing!  And even that word didn’t do this experience justice.  

A moment later, Oliver thrust into her again and again, then froze for another moment before he shook with his own release.  For several seconds, he froze over her, then he collapsed down on top of Maggie.  A split second later, he groaned and shifted, pulling her with him as they exchanged positions, still intimately connected. 

“Damn, Maggie!” he groaned as both of them tried to get their breathing back under control. 

Maggie tried to shift.  She tried to just pull away from him.  But it was too hard and, in the end, she simply lay against him, limp and completely zoned out.