House Calls: Callaghan Brothers, Book 3 (20 page)

He had always wondered, though – if it did happen, whose voice would he hear?  He thought it might be his mother’s.  It had been so long since he’d heard it; she had died nearly twenty years earlier when he was barely a boy of twelve.  Yet he knew he would recognize it instantly. 

Whenever he was sick, his mother would sit on the side of his bed and speak softly to him.  It was as if she knew the sound of her voice was what he needed more than anything else.  Sometimes she would read him a story, sometimes she would just talk about anything and nothing at all until he fell into a restful sleep.  She would stroke his hair, just like she was doing right now...

Except that it wasn’t his mother’s voice he heard, he realized.  It was Maggie’s.  And her soft, lilting voice was getting an edge to it.

* * *

“J
ust what do you think you’re doing?” Maggie asked the young nurse that had entered the room and was now setting up a tray with a basin of water, ph-balanced cleanser, and a sponge.  And in Maggie’s opinion, she was looking far too happy about it.

“I must ask you to leave,” the nurse said with some kind of accent Maggie could not quite place.  Russian, possibly?  “It is time for his bath.”

Maggie’s eyes narrowed; her hand stilled momentarily.  Jake, who was sitting in the corner – one of his brothers was with Michael at all times, Maggie noticed – was biting the inside of his mouth, presumably to keep the smile off of his face.

Maggie failed to see the humor.  She did smile, however.  It was a very wide smile, showing every one of her perfect white teeth, and it did not reach her eyes.  “Oh, I don’t think so.”

The nurse hesitated for a brief moment, but then got a determined look on her face.  She began to argue, but Maggie cut her off immediately.  “Sorry, honey, no playtime for you today.  I will give him his bath.”

The nurse looked from Michael, to Maggie, back to Michael again.  She was several inches taller than Maggie, but Maggie had the mother-bear look about her that said it would be no contest.  If the nurse was smart, she’d turn quietly and leave.  She wasn’t, apparently deciding that sponge-bathing Michael would be worth the trouble.

“That is not acceptable.  You are not qualified –“

Maggie’s smile grew as she stood.  Thankfully, Jake chose that moment to speak up.

“Actually, nurse, she is.  And I’m afraid you do not have the necessary clearance.”  Ignoring her protests, he took her arm lightly and escorted her to the door.

“I could totally have taken her,” Maggie said when Jake pulled the door closed shut again.

“Of that, I have no doubt,” Jake said, grinning.  “Removing her from the room was for her protection, not yours.”

Maggie’s face relaxed as she grinned back at him.  Her expression turned to a look of total surprise when she felt a tug on her hand.

“
Maggie.
” 

Michael’s eyes were open.  His voice was rough, raspy.  Maggie took a small cloth and dipped it in ice water, holding it to his lips.  He swallowed gratefully.

“Michael,” she said, tears forming in her eyes.  “I knew you wouldn’t leave me just yet.”

“You shouldn’t be here.  It’s not safe.  You need to go.”  He sounded so weak, like the very effort of speaking was costing him greatly.

“You need to be quiet,” she told him.  “I’m not leaving without you, so you can just forget that.”

“Need to go.  Tell Jake.  Get home.”  He was working himself up, and Maggie knew that was not a good thing.

“Michael, if you keep fighting me on this I’m going to have your brothers put you in restraints and I’m going to stick a needle into your arse to put you out, just like you did to me.  And unlike you, I’m not very good with a needle.  I may have to jab it in there several times till I get it right.” Michael glared at her, but kept his mouth shut.

“That’s better,” she said.  “Now listen to me.  If you want me out of here you are going to have to get your arse out of that bed and drag me kicking and screaming out the door yourself.  Until then, I am afraid you are stuck with me.” 

Michael looked pleadingly at Jake, who held up his hands.  “I’m not taking her on,” he said.  “Especially after what she almost did to that nurse who wanted to give you a sponge bath.”

The tiniest hint of a smile curved Michael’s mouth.  “Sponge bath?” he said, his gravelly voice sounding hopeful.

Maggie bit her lip.  “Uh-huh.”

“I think I’m going to wait out in the hall,” Jake said wisely.  “Yell if you need me.”

––––––––

M
aggie lavished constant attention on Michael, refusing to accept the lodging the brothers offered her.  She spent her nights at Michael’s side, her days bathing him, massaging him, reading to him.  She made him special teas, spent hours stroking his hair and pampering him. 

More than once Ian suggested that Michael really wasn’t half as sick as he pretended to be, just so Maggie would fuss over him some more.  In response, Michael generously offered to shoot him so that Lexi might give him the same treatment, but Maggie discouraged it, saying that Lexi had enough on her plate already.

Between Maggie’s attentions and the medical care, Michael improved rapidly.  Within a matter of days the doctor cleared him for transport back home, though he would have to take it easy for a while.

* * *

S
eeing the lights of the Pine Ridge Valley as they topped the crest of the mountain and began their downward descent was the second most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.  The first, he confessed, was waking up to Maggie’s face in the hospital.

A low-key welcome home celebration was awaiting them.  Maggie was awed by the love and support Michael’s family had for him.  All families should be like this, she thought, and the world would be a much better place.

There was a substantial amount of appreciation for Maggie, as well, though the attention made her very uncomfortable.  Several times she tried to slip into the shadows, to let Michael receive the attention.  He never let her stray far, his eyes ever watchful.

No matter how many times they asked, she could not give them the answers they sought.  She could not explain the dream she had any more than they could.  Some things, she said quietly, should simply be accepted and not questioned.

* * *

“H
ave you told him yet?” Taryn asked during one of those such times.

Maggie thought about pretending she didn’t know what Taryn was talking about, but decided against it.  It seemed pointless.  Taryn had already proven that she was light years ahead of Maggie on the understanding scale.  “How did you know?”

Taryn smiled.  “Because I was in your place once. “  The smile faded.  “I lost our first baby.  Jake doesn’t think I know, but I do.  Maybe if I had told him instead of running away, trying to pretend that I didn’t need him...” 

“I’m so sorry,” Maggie said sincerely.

“Thanks,” Taryn said.  “We have Riley now, and she’s wonderful, but I’ll always wonder, you know?  What would her big brother have been like?  Would he have had Jake’s eyes and the cockeyed Callaghan grin?” 

She paused as her voice broke slightly, taking a moment to regain control.  “Anyway, I just wanted to say that if you’re waiting for the right time, or the right place, or for things to be perfect – don’t.  Because like it or not, tomorrow is not guaranteed, not for any of us.”

* * *

M
ichael looked over at that moment, caught the seriousness of Maggie’s expression. 

“What was that all about?” he asked when they were on their way back to Maggie’s house where Michael would continue his recovery under Maggie’s watchful eye.

“What?” Maggie asked, but given the way she avoided his eyes, she knew exactly what he was talking about.

“The little chat you had with Taryn.”

“Oh, that,” Maggie said, forcing a smile.  “It was nothing.”

“Usually when you say something is
nothing
, it turns out to be a very substantial
something
,” Michael said.

“There’s a lot we need to talk about, Michael, but not tonight, okay?”

“Not tonight,” he agreed.  Tonight he needed to be with Maggie, to lose himself in her and forget everything else. 

Maggie’s house was dark, but as before, plenty of firewood was stacked neatly and a nice pile had been assembled in the fireplace, waiting only for a match to set it ablaze.  The fridge was full, a bowl of fresh fruit was on the table, and the cupboards were packed with some of Michael’s favorite snacks.

“I could really get used to your family,” she said approvingly.  “They’re spoiling me rotten.”

“Family takes care of family,” he said simply.  It was how things were done.  They didn’t question it, they just did it.

“But I’m not family, Michael.”

Michael pulled her into his arms.  “Yes, Maggie, you are.  You belong to me, as I belong to you.  Surely you know that by now.”

Michael lowered his head and kissed her, fully, passionately.  There was no gentleness, no easing into it.  It was total possession, and she gave herself up to it completely.  Maggie took his hand and led him up to the bedroom.

* * *

“M
aybe it’s too soon,” she said hesitantly after unbuttoning his shirt and seeing the bandages that still covered the wound. 

Michael’s eyes had become a deep sapphire blue.  Maggie had been taking care of him, but had refused to let him do anything for her.  Tonight that was going to change.

Michael undid the clasp of his belt, letting the sides hang freely.  “Come here.”  His voice was low, husky, filled with hunger.  It made Maggie’s insides tighten, and ignited the inner burn she always seemed to feel around him, stealing her breath away.

Dutifully, Maggie placed her hands on his jeans and unsnapped the fastening, subconsciously licking her lips in anticipation as the tip of him strained over the top.  Pleasuring Michael had become somewhat of an obsession for her; she loved the control, the power she had over him.

Before she had a chance to lower his zipper, he grabbed the sides of her shirt and pulled, sending buttons flying as he exposed her.  Before the startled cry left her lips, he was on his knees, suckling her through the satin and lace bra, his hands moving up and down her waist.

“So pretty,” he murmured, torturing first one breast, then the other until her knees went weak.  Her hands tangled in his hair, longer than it normally was, hanging on for dear life.  She had forgotten how devastating Michael’s touch could be. 

“Do you know how I’ve dreamed of doing this?” he murmured against her.  “How every night I woke up reaching for you, Maggie?”

With a snap of his fingers the front clasp of her bra was undone and he was peeling it away, pushing it from her shoulders.  The moist wet heat of his mouth against her bare skin made her whimper.

While his mouth worked her breasts, her incredibly sensitive breasts, his hands went to work on her jeans, skillfully undoing them and coaxing them down to her ankles before she kicked them away.

“I need to taste you, Maggie,” he said roughly, his words muffled against her skin.  He cupped her behind and lifted her onto the bed.  With dazed eyes, she grasped his shoulders and twisted, pushing him back to the bed.

“Maggie...”  He laid down, grasping her hips firmly, pulling her up until she straddled his face.  Maggie couldn’t help the cry that ripped from her throat at the first feel of his mouth on her.  His arms locked like iron bands around her hips, holding him to her.

His mouth ravaged her, licking and biting; he groaned as she spilled over his tongue.  “Michael,” she screamed, her hands clutching at the headboard.  “Oh, Michael, don’t stop!”

Her pleas seemed to inflame him; he attacked with renewed vigor, plunging his tongue deep and true.  She tried to squirm against the onslaught of sensation, tried to ease some of the white-hot shooting bolts of pleasure he was sending through her with every touch, but he held her firm, would not let her rest.  He was relentless, pushing her farther and farther.  Each time she was on the verge of coming he would pull back, over and over again, until she swore she could not take one more second.

“Ride me, Maggie,” he said against her sex.  He had to repeat the command three times, physically tug her hips downward, before her fevered mind was finally able to comprehend.  He held himself ready as she positioned herself over him, crying out when she impaled herself, taking him all in one deep thrust.

Maggie cried out at the sudden and violent penetration, needing the pain as much as the pleasure.  She was beyond rational thought, but instinctively she knew she had to protect Michael, keep him from overtaxing himself.  Mindful of his wounds, she leaned over, placing her hands on his biceps, letting her nails curl like claws into his skin, both a warning and a promise that she would be the aggressor.  Michael groaned.

“Ah, baby, it feels so good to be inside you.  Heaven, Maggie. Ride me, baby.”

It was all the encouragement she needed.  She began to roll and lift her hips, taking him even deeper, mindful to keep weight off of his chest and abdomen.  Her inner muscles clamped down around him, protesting every time she pulled away, rejoicing every time she took him again.

After so much time without him, it took mere minutes for her to reach climax.  Michael cursed as he felt her muscles tighten around him, pulling, milking, squeezing.  He grabbed her hips and held her in place while he thrust upward.  She screamed again, begging for mercy as he continued to pound up and into her, forcing her beyond anything she’d ever experienced, beyond pleasure, beyond pain.  It was too much – too intense – she couldn’t imagine another second yet he continued until she exploded again, until her body and mind and spirit shattered into a thousand tiny pieces as she felt him bursting within her.

Maggie collapsed.  Her bones had become liquid, her capacity for rational thought evaporated.  Michael caught her and held her close.  “Sshhhh, baby,” he whispered as she sobbed uncontrollably into his shoulder.  “I’ve got you.”  One arm locked her to him, the other ran up and down her back.

As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t stop.  She cried harder as the reality of the last two weeks – the last two months – crashed around her.  She’d come so close to losing him.  She clutched at him, held on to him hard as if she would never let him go again.