Maggie
Thanksgiving 2019
He showed up to Thanksgiving dinner. Inviting him was the least I could do after helping me with my flat tire yesterday. I’m a capable woman. I know how to change a tire, but I couldn’t turn the last lug nut; it was too tight. My sister, Gen, goes all out for every holiday, but I didn’t feel like attending the one after learning my boyfriend is cheating on me, sleezy son of a . . .. Luckily, no one noticed he didn’t show, and I certainly don’t want to explain.
I invite him into Gen’s cottage after dinner. The alcohol buzz is talking, and I find myself unbuttoning Grant’s crisp Oxford shirt. I’m out of my mind right now. I just met him yesterday, but he is carved and sculpted, and like I said, the buzz has decreased my common sense. I slide his shirt down his corded arms, and my breath hitches. This man is perfect.
“Are you sure about this, Maggie?”
“Yes, absolutely sure,” I reply, looking up into his emerald eyes. He towers over me, but I’m not afraid. In fact, I feel protected when he carries me to the couch. He lifts my sweater over my head and tosses it to the floor.
“You’re beautiful.” I blush at his words as he rakes his eyes over my chest sitting up in my red balconette. His mouth grazes my collarbone, sending shivers down my spine and straight to my core. It isn’t as if I have a ton of experience in the sex department, especially one-night stands—that number is precisely zero. I drag my fingernails from his waist to the top of his shoulder blades as I explore his lips and mouth. Our tongues tangle and dance around each other. The idea of no-strings-attached sex right now is nothing short of perfect. I don’t need any complications. I don’t even live here.
He pulls us up to a sitting position, and I straddle his leg as I reach back and unclasp my bra. My nipples hardened with the sudden rush of cold air. Immediately, his hands cover my breasts. He draws circles around my nipples, making them tighter with each stroke. Reaching for his pants, I unbutton them and grab his length, sliding my hand up and down a few times.
“Maggie.” He reaches down and stills my hands. “I realize this may seem backwards, but we need to slow down.”
“You don’t want to do this?” I ask him, fighting the anger in my head. What’s wrong with me? I’m throwing myself at this gorgeous man, and he is saying no. Get a grip, Maggie! He is being respectful, and you’re not in the best frame of mind.
“I do, but we shouldn’t . . . at least not tonight.”
I reach for my sweater, tugging it over my head.
“Maggie, you’re gorgeous, funny, and very sexy, but I don’t want our first time to be while you’re upset and buzzed. I want you to have a clear head and be fully aware of what you’re doing.”
“I know what I want and what I’m doing, but . . . you’re right. I’m buzzed, and slowing this down isn’t a horrible idea.” I notice, although we aren’t going to finish this tonight, Grant is still ready to go. I appreciate his moral code. Not many guys would turn down a one-night stand with no strings attached. I slowly move off Grant and sit next to him on the couch, resting my head on his shoulder.
“You’re a good guy, Grant,” I say softly.
“Thank you, Maggie.”
The silence is deafening.
“Do you want me to leave?” he finally asks.
“No. Do you want to leave? I understand, if you do.”
“Why, because we aren’t going to sleep together tonight?”
“Yes, most guys would run out that door faster than Usain Bolt.”
“I’m not most guys. Did you bring any desserts here from your sister’s?”
“I believe I did. Want to dish some out and watch some football?”
“You like football?” he asks, as if it’s impossible for a woman to like football.
“I don’t like football; I love football. You have never met anyone like me, have you?”
“Not even close, Maggie. You’re one of a kind.”
Feeling heated from his response, I head to the kitchen to plate some desserts. We settle in and watch the night game while sitting next to each other hip to hip. The tension in the room is still high, but even though my buzz wore off during the third quarter, I’m still sure he is right and we should wait. After the game wraps up, he takes his dish into the kitchen and promptly washes it.
“Thank you. I could’ve done that,” I say, slightly surprised.
“I used it. I will clean it.”
I smile and wonder what else about Grant Washington is insanely hot.
“I better get going. I have to work tomorrow. Can I call you, Maggie?”
“I would like that.”
As he turns to leave, I ask him, “Don’t you need my number?”
“I already have it.”
“How do you already have it?” I ask incredulously, knowing that I didn’t give it to him. A warning bell starts ringing.
“It was on the report from your flat last night. I recall details, like addresses and phone numbers, easily.”
I shake my head. It makes complete sense. Warning bell silenced. He is a cop after all.
“Oh. Can I have yours?” It’s only fair. He rattles off his number, and I save it in my phone. “Are you free tomorrow night?”
“Yes, I get off shift around six.”
“Dinner before I go home?”
“Sounds great. Text me the details.” He steps closer to me. The air heats up around us, and anticipation makes my chest tight. I place my hand on his chest, trying to hold back the memory of him shirtless, and look up at him. His hand curves around my neck while his lips graze mine. A soft sigh escapes my lips. This man is good with his mouth. I can only imagine how it would feel on my. . .. I shake that luscious thought away.
“Good night, Maggie,” he says, pulling away slowly.
“Good night, Grant.” I close the door behind him and exhale a deep breath I didn’t know I was holding. Do I want to have sex with him? Absolutely. He’s gorgeous, and his eyes sparkle when he looks at me. His chest is a work of art, and touching him with my lips locked on his makes my core heat. He was kind and brought me to Gen’s on his own time while my car was towed. He is nothing like that piece of work ex of mine, Tyler, who I dated for the last two years. I thought he was going to propose. Instead, I found him buried in my best friend and roommate, Lisa. It confirmed my suspicions that he’s cheating on me. I drop onto the bed in Gen’s guest room, trying to deal with my warring feelings.
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