Maggie Moves On(38)

He held out his hand and didn’t bother to not look smug when she finally took it. “If you don’t mind, we’ll swing by my place—”

“I’m not having sex with you tonight,” she interrupted, stopping on the sidewalk and facing him.

He gave in and finally slipped his arms around her. Locking his fingers together at the small of her back, he tried out the feel of her in his arms. It worked. They worked.

“Tonight?” He hung on to that qualifier and gave her his best lecherous look.

She bit her lower lip, and he lost his train of thought.

“Definitely not tonight.”

“Hmm,” he said.

“What?”

“I’m having a hard time thinking about anything but kissing you right now,” he said softly.

“Silas.” There was a hint of warning in her tone, but she didn’t do anything to put more space between them.

“It’s a kiss, Maggie. Not a commitment. One kiss won’t cost you a lifetime,” he coaxed.

“Well, since I’m here. And you’re here, and we’re definitely not having sex tonight,” she said, sliding her palms up his chest to his shoulders.

Something in the back of his brain said “uh-oh,” but he wasn’t one to back away from a challenge. No, he dove into them headfirst.

He lowered his mouth. She met him halfway, and the world as he knew it ceased to exist. Part of him knew he was on one of Kinship’s busiest streets, kissing the hell out of a woman he’d known for one week.

But the rest of his consciousness was consumed—by the softness of her lips and the deceptively delicate way they parted under his. Inviting him in to be devoured. Her tongue met and twined with his, sending every drop of blood in his veins to his groin. He slid his hands under her jacket and gripped her hips, dragging her against him.

Her arms tightened around his neck, and he saw fucking stars when her breasts pressed against his chest. She moaned or whimpered, and enchanted him.

The sidewalk under his feet, the one he knew by heart, shifted, and he was no longer sure what was ground and what was sky. She was consuming him in ways he’d never experienced.

When her fingers dove into his hair and gripped, he threw aside any attempt at controlling himself. She tasted like dark beer and mysteries. He didn’t know exactly how—if she had led and he’d followed or vice versa—but suddenly Maggie’s back was pushed up against the front wall of Angela’s Butcher Shop. And then his hands were slipping under the softness of her sweater to find the heat of her skin beneath.

She breathed out another whimper when his fingers coasted higher, thumbs and index fingers finding the edge of her bra. Her flesh pebbled under his touch, and the tremor that ran through her body made him feel like a wild man.

They were nothing but breath and touch. Need. Want.

The flavor of her filled his senses. Drove him a little crazy.

Crazy enough to forget that they were standing on the street in full view of most of downtown Kinship.

A car horn followed by a cheerful “Get a room, Wright!” dragged him back to the present.

“Um.” It was the best he could muster.

Maggie looked ravaged. Her hair was tousled, lips swollen and pink, cheeks warm, eyes glassy and bright. It made him want to dive back in. Instead, he took a very deliberate step back.

Her knees buckled, and she leaned against the butcher shop, palms flat against the red plank siding.

“Wow,” she breathed.

Silas shoved a hand through his hair and willed his hard-on to go away before it got a zipper imprint. “Yeah. Wow,” he agreed.

Slowly, she pushed away from the wall. “That was…something.”

He couldn’t look at her and not stay hard, so he focused his gaze down the block.

“We should probably not do that again. At least not for a while,” she said.

“Darlin’, don’t take this the wrong way. But do you maybe mind not looking directly at me like that?” He tried to keep the request light, but the desperation he felt, the primal need to drag her into the nearest dark alley, was overwhelming everything his mamas had ever taught him.

“Oh,” she said. “Oh.” He didn’t have to see her face to know exactly where she was looking. “Can you walk like that?” she asked, sounding both fascinated and amused.

“I can do a lot of things like this,” he growled. “Sorry. Just need a few seconds.”

Maybe a month. A month of icy swims in the river. That sounded about right.

“I realize you have a lot going on right now,” Maggie said, gesturing in the general direction of his crotch. “But I hope you don’t think this is getting you out of ice cream.”

“No, ma’am,” he promised. Then swore when his phone vibrated three times in rapid succession.

It was his siblings. All of them. In the group he’d only just been admitted to after promising to only respond in GIFs for one week to prove his fealty to technology.

Taylor: I heard from Maxine Fulsom that Big Brother Silas is making out with a stranger on Lake Street.

She’d included one of those GIFs with a couple kissing.

Michael: Bet he’s going to date her and break up with her 47 times before they end up common law married.

It was followed with three diamond ring emojis.