The Summer He Came Home Part 19

Cain smiled and stood to the side. "I hope you're hungry." Maggie nodded, but as her belly rolled once more, she doubted she'd be able to eat at all.

She turned the lock and followed him to his SUV. He opened the pa.s.senger door and stood back, though his fingers caressed her bare back as she stepped inside. He leaned across and secured her seat belt, and from the wicked look he gave her, Maggie was pretty sure it had just been an excuse to rub his arm across her b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

She'd barely been able to contain the hiss that slithered along her tongue.

She fingered her small bag nervously as Cain backed out of the driveway. Luke Jansen was on his front lawn, tossing a ball to his golden retriever, Shelby, though his gaze was fixated on the SUV.

Maggie waved, and Luke paused, ball in hand, his expression hard. He didn't return her wave.

"He'll get over it."

She glanced at Cain. "Sorry?"

"Jansen. He's got a thing for you."

"Oh, I don't know about that. I mean, he's asked me out a few times, but it just...he's not..."

"He's not for you?"

She fingered the edge of her skirt. "He's nice enough and all, but no"-she glanced at him-"he's not my type."

He smiled, and her heart quickened. "Good to know."

Cain turned down onto Main Street. "Mac suggested I take you to Le Rouge for dinner."

"Oh, I've never been." Which wasn't surprising, considering one entree probably cost more than what she made in a day.

"I hope you're not too disappointed if we don't."

Maggie shrugged. "I don't eat out a lot, so I'm not particularly fussy where we go."

Cain maneuvered his truck around a parked car that was half in the street and drove down the main drag of Crystal Lake. He pulled into an empty spot in front of a smallish building that stood alone. Above the door was a plain wooden sign: Jack's Hut. It looked out of place among the elegant buildings that surrounded it.

"This place might not look like much, but trust me, it will be a great. Jack's been around for years."

"It looks cute." Okay, Le Rouge might have been a bit on the grand side. She didn't expect to be wined and dined, but this place looked a slight cut above fast food. Very slight.

"Hey, we can go to Le Rouge if you want." He flashed a smile. "I just thought our first date could be more...low-key...intimate."

Cain used his hands a lot when he talked, and she focused on them. The fingers were long, and as they slid along the steering wheel once more, she thought of them on her skin, traveling up her belly. Touching her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. She closed her eyes and swallowed a groan. She so didn't care where they ate.

"Hey, you're not disappointed, are you?" His concern was genuine, and she shook her head, her hand reaching for the door.

"I'm just happy to be with you." The admission slipped from her mouth without thought.

Cain jumped from the truck and was at her side, his hand reaching for hers, enveloping her own into his warmth. He pulled her close, held her against him, and she felt his arousal. He leaned down and brushed his lips across hers. "Let's go."

Her heart skipped a beat as she read the "Closed" sign that hung in the window. Inside, the lights were dim. "Are you sure they're open?"

Cain nodded, a sly smile on his face. "Positive."

They escaped the warm summer evening into the dark, cool interior of Jack's Hut. It took a few moments for her eyes to adjust, and when they did, her mouth hung open, a soft "Oh" on her lips as she gazed at the room in wonder.

The place was empty, candlelit, and filled with small vases of tulips that were set upon every available surface that could hold them. Music drifted from a jukebox in the corner, blues by the sound of it, s.e.xy notes layered between the rich, throaty vocals of some unknown G.o.ddess.

In the middle of the room was the only table. It was set for two and held a small bucket of ice filled with Coronas.

Cain's face lit up like that of a little boy on Christmas morning. "Now this"-he glanced around-"this is more my style."

A tall man appeared from the back pus.h.i.+ng a cart laden with food. Maggie sniffed a host of aromas and was surprised at the hunger pangs she felt. Considering she'd been full-on nauseous only a short while earlier, things were looking up.

Chicken wings, garlic bread, and nachos.

The gentleman was solid, with a full head of shockingly black hair and bushy eyebrows to match. His bare arms were powerful and loaded with tattoos, some of which were not exactly appropriate.

"Cain! I just finished." The man's dark eyes landed on her, and his smile widened. He walked toward them. "You must be Maggie."

She nodded. "h.e.l.lo."

"I'm Jack. Nice to meet you." He tossed a set of keys to Cain and shook his hand. "Lock up when you leave, and throw the keys back in through the mail slot. I've got an extra set at home."

"Thanks for everything." Cain followed Jack to the door and locked it behind him. He glanced back at Maggie. "Last chance to change your mind. I can make a phone call and get us into Le Rouge if you prefer."

She couldn't take her eyes off him. The setting didn't matter. He was what mattered, and if she could have him to herself, with no prying eyes, then all the better.

"This is perfect." And it was.

His warm hand was on her back as he escorted her to the table. Small, spiky s.h.i.+vers of desire leaped across her flesh at his touch.

Cain opened two bottles and handed her a cold Corona. "Do you want a gla.s.s? I can grab one from behind the bar."

Maggie shook her head. "I'm not really a gla.s.s kind of girl." A smile crept over her mouth. "The bottle is fine."

He held his Corona aloft, and Maggie raised hers as well. "To our first date," he murmured.

The next three hours flew by. Cain shared a good many details about his life, and she found herself fascinated at the stories he told of faraway places she'd only seen in magazines and of the funny, crazy, and sometimes disturbing intricacies of living out of a suitcase for months at a time.

He told her about growing up in Crystal Lake, of the good times he'd shared, of the Bad Boys, and of the lost one, Jesse. Maggie was enthralled and touched, and laughed until her belly hurt.

By the time they were done eating she was totally under his spell.

"I see why you're the front person in your band." She paused, enjoying the way the candlelight danced in his eyes. "Why all the women are thrilled you're home."

Cain c.o.c.ked his head and smiled. "And that would be because..."

Maggie lowered her eyes and ran her fingers along the empty bottle of beer in front of her. "I'm sure you're a great musician-"

"You're sure?" he interrupted with a laugh.

"Well, I'm not familiar with your music, but I think it's safe to a.s.sume you've got talent." She smiled and shrugged. "But I think it's probably more than just the fact that you write good songs."

He leaned closer. "So tell me what you really think."

"I think you could charm the pants off just about anyone without even trying."

Silence fell between them for several long moments, and then he spoke, his voice so low she barely heard him. "There's only one person I want to charm tonight, and she sure as h.e.l.l ain't wearing pants."

The jukebox had long finished, and the candles flickered in the dark. His eyes were intense, and she felt the change in the air. It was like a physical touch, a caress, and a shudder all at once. He grabbed her hand, his touch gentle and hot. Maggie watched, her breaths falling in jerky spurts as he lifted her fingers to his mouth and slowly licked the last remnants of sticky sauce off them.

The ache between her legs erupted in a single shot of urgent need, and she bit her lip, her eyes never leaving his.

"I think we're done here." His voice was rough.

Maggie stood, and when he held out his hand, she slipped hers inside his large grasp, loving the way he pulled her into his body. She felt like she belonged, and the thought was one that soothed and calmed and fanned the flames of desire at the same time.

"Let's go."

Outside the early-evening sky was shot through with reds and golds. It sliced through the dark that loomed on the horizon-a beautiful, mad palette of color. The sidewalks were mostly empty, though the few patios scattered downtown were filled with patrons.

When they reached his truck, Cain's hands slid along her waist, and he brushed his mouth against hers, a quick, probing touch that was over much too soon.

And yet it nearly took her breath away.

"Let's get you home," he murmured against her mouth.

The ride back to her house was silent; the air was charged with an energy that slithered along her body and left her trembling. Maggie gripped her purse tightly, forced herself to relax, but it was hard.

Cain pulled into her driveway and hopped out of the truck in a quick, fluid movement. She already had her door open, but he helped her down. His touch was sure and possessive. It lingered and burned.

His hand didn't leave hers, and when she fumbled for her key, he grabbed them from her purse, unlocked her front door, and followed her inside.

The silence of her home was so loud, she was sure he heard her heart banging against her chest. Lord knows, it pounded in her ears furiously enough. For a second she felt dizzy, weak, most likely panicked, but then he was there behind her, his body heat searing the bare flesh of her back.

Cain's arms slid around her rib cage and he held her for the longest time, so tight she felt every inch of his hard frame. His breath was hot against her neck, and when he nuzzled the sensitive area beneath her ear, she groaned.

His right hand slid up and cupped her breast as he continued to trail small kisses along her neck. "Oh Maggie, the things I'm going to do to you..."

Gently he turned her in his embrace. Her eyes focused on the pulse that beat in his neck. The rhythm was as mad and frantic as hers. It hit her then. He was just as affected as she. That knowledge filled her with a confidence she'd never felt before.

Slowly her eyes rose.

"So you said the other night." She licked her lips and trailed her fingers along his chest until her hands were splayed across his shoulders. "I was a good girl and took your advice."

"You did?" His chocolate eyes glittered.

She felt saucy. Dangerous. Powerful.

Maggie nodded and stood on her tiptoes so that she could whisper in his ear. Her sensitive nipples sc.r.a.ped along his chest, sending shards of desire spiraling across her flesh.

"I got a full night's sleep, which I guess is a good thing." She paused, felt his hardness against her stomach. "Because I'm not expecting to get any tonight."

Maggie wriggled out of his arms and kicked off her shoes. She turned slowly and headed toward her bedroom, well aware of the man left behind.

Chapter 20.

Cain had never seen anything as hot as Maggie O'Rourke. And he'd been around the block. She was Jezebel and Monroe and an angel all rolled into one s.e.xy package.

He followed her down the hall like a dog in heat and was at her side seconds after she entered her bedroom. The room was dark, with long shadows flickering along the wall.

He watched her for the longest time. Let the pressure build. The pa.s.sion and need. And then he crossed to her bedside and switched on the small lamp that was there.

"I need to see you," he whispered.

Maggie's huge eyes glistened like liquid gla.s.s. Her mouth was parted; her chest rose and fell rapidly. Elegant fingers, the tips a deep shade of navy, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and he noted the slight tremble.

She was nervous.

For the first time in a long time, he could say that he felt the same.

"Let me see you," he said again.

A slow, s.e.xy smile claimed her lips, and she walked toward him, her movements graceful, like a cat's. Maggie stopped a few inches from him, and her sweet, exotic scent teased his nostrils.

His desire raged, and he panted from the effort it took to hold himself still. Every single muscle in his body was tense, hard, and he ached to hold her.

Her hands rose, and she reached behind her neck. Her head tilted to the side, and a long curtain of hair momentarily covered her face. When her hands fell once more, so did the silky green fabric, and slowly she tugged it down over her b.r.e.a.s.t.s until she was bare to him.

"Jesus," he whispered. Her b.r.e.a.s.t.s were creamy, the dusky rose nipples hard. They were perfect, fully rounded, and begged to be touched.

Maggie's eyes never left his as she continued to tug the fabric down to her waist. She carefully untied her skirt and seconds later stood like a G.o.ddess in nothing but a skimpy, s.e.xy-as-h.e.l.l black G-string.

Cain s.h.i.+fted his legs in an effort to alleviate the pressure between them. He was so hard that he was afraid he'd blow early and they'd both be s.h.i.+t out of luck. He needed to take it down a notch. He ran his fingers through his hair and exhaled.

"You are beautiful, Maggie."

Her eyes s.h.i.+mmered, and she licked her lips, her small tongue darting out quickly. "I..." Her chest heaved. "I've never..." She looked up at him and he saw her heart, her soul, reflected in her eyes. She crossed her arms across her chest and his heart swelled. "I've never done this before. I mean, I've done this but not with anyone other than Michael's father. Never," she whispered.

He reached for her. "I know." He paused. Something s.h.i.+fted inside him, a pull at the very core of his soul. She was unique and wonderful and s.e.xy as h.e.l.l. She touched him like no one before, deep down where it mattered. This night wasn't about him or the fact that he needed to be inside her so badly it hurt.

This was about Maggie and his desire to put her on a pedestal and give her everything that he could. He wanted to put her needs and desires above his. And he'd start right now.