His shout of victory rang in her ears. Her hips were held in a bruising grip as he stayed buried inside her. Being forced to hold still made the volcanic activity erupting in her core even stronger.
They rode out aftershocks together, arms wrapped tight around each other. Maggie trembled against him as he stroked his hand over her wet hair and whispered sweet words of praise in her ear. He kissed her softly, sweetly. Tasting her mouth and skin with his tongue.
When he finally withdrew from her, her body still felt full and used and oh so good. He drew her to the ledge so she could hang on. When he was sure she was safe, he levered himself up to sit on the ledge.
What a picture he made, his half-hard cock lying heavily against his thick thigh, as if deciding whether to harden again or not. Water droplets clung to his chest and his hair. His stubble was more beard now than it had been two days ago. He looked like he belonged here under the waterfall in the wild.
And for once, Maggie felt like she might belong, too.
31
“You just wanted me to buy this so you don’t have to spend another night on the cot,” Maggie accused him three efficient hours later as the movers assembled the bed rails in her room under Kevin’s watchful eye.
She couldn’t decide if she was horrified or delighted with the purchase.
“Every other person in this house has an actual bed,” Silas argued. “Why shouldn’t you have one?”
“You already talked me into it once,” she pointed out. And she was having a hard time regretting it when she saw the weathered dark wood of the headboard go up against the cloud gray of the wall. The kittens darted into the room to check on the action and then raced out again.
The buying hadn’t stopped there. She’d snapped up a rug, in deeper blues, and twin nightstands with drawers painted a dark gray with absolutely frivolous crystal knobs. Nirina and Kayla had made a gift of crisp cotton sheets in a clean white and a duvet in navy. Then she’d dragged Silas to the furniture store they’d recommended over in Abileen and fallen in love with a deep-cushioned couch and matching armchair for the soon-to-be TV room.
On her way out of the store, she’d gotten Cody’s text. An 86 on his trig quiz. The kid had used three exclamation points. She’d hit Buy It Now on the new laptop she’d been eyeing for him. He could use it for school and work rather than her clunky old one, which had to be restarted every hour or two, she reasoned. It was an investment.
Silas had been delighted. Maggie had been mildly appalled. She blamed Bonus Day and underwater orgasms for her out-of-character spending spree.
When the bed was assembled and the cloud of a mattress in place, she tipped the movers and walked them out.
She waited until the van disappeared and then headed around to the side of the house to panic over the lack of work being accomplished. Where the uneven terrace and tumbling retaining wall had been was now an expanse of freshly flattened dirt. The terrace stone, what was salvageable of it, was stacked neatly in the backyard.
The fountain and its four horses, frozen in time, had been cleared of the decade of debris and stood silent and empty. The undertaking seemed more out of reach than on other days.
She blew out a breath and looked at the house. The siding was spectacular, she had to admit. The new windows, with their pops of white and the sharp lines of the grilles, added to the fresh look.
The glass and architectural details on the third floor broke up the dark of the siding. She needed to figure out what she was doing with the third story of the turret. It was too much of a selling point to leave unfinished.
A party, she imagined. With people gathered on the terrace, spilling out of the house from the kitchen and the sunroom. There would be enough room for tables and chairs. Even a dance floor. She could string lights from the house. Guests, dancing or drinking wine, would pause to look up at the lights and then see the expanse of sky beyond, admiring the glow from the windows.
Something tugged at her subconscious. There was something off. Something not quite right. But before she could zero in on it, Silas pulled her attention away.
“You’re not thinking about work, are you?” he said, ambling down the porch steps.
“Not on Bonus Day,” she lied.
“That’s my girl. How do you feel about getting a little dirty?” he asked.
“I feel pretty good about it,” she said, linking her hands behind his neck.
“Good. Get your shovel,” he said with a wink.
“This is not what I had in mind when you said getting dirty,” Maggie complained as she helped him drop the rootball of the five-foot-tall Black Hills spruce.