A Groom for Maggie

“Maggie.”

She met his eyes. Before he realized what he was doing, Alex reached his hand to her cheek, and slowly rubbed his thumb across the smooth blushing skin.

She didn’t move, and her gaze remained fixed on his.

She wasn’t going to leave. She was staying.

Alex slid his hand behind her head and gently pulled her toward him. Their lips met and fire shot to his extremities. For a long moment they didn’t move, then Maggie’s lips parted under his and he nudged his tongue into her mouth.

Her hands rose tentatively to his chest and he moved his other hand to the small of her back. Hunger for her burned quick and bright inside of Alex, despite the fact that he knew—he knew—he shouldn’t be doing this. Only half an hour before, they had agreed not to do this. He ran his tongue along her upper lip marveling at the blaze of sensation within him.

Suddenly Maggie stopped. She drew back, flushed and a little out of breath. “What was that?” she said, perhaps to him, perhaps to herself.

“A kiss.”

“I know that. But…us?” She took a step away from him, looking everywhere but at him. “That’s not appropriate for us. It can’t happen again.”

He stared at her for a moment in silence, taking in the fiery eyes, the cheeks still flushed with passion, the full lips swollen from their kiss. There was nothing he could say, he knew she was right but he couldn’t voice his agreement.

So he gave a slight incline of the head. “I apologize,” he said, without an ounce of sincerity.

She obviously knew it because it was a long, narrow look she gave him before saying, “You were about to say something about the wedding.” She drew herself up and met his eyes boldly. “Why do you want to have a bigger celebration?”