It wasn’t as if they had mentioned anything about getting back together. This was a one-time deal. When the week was over, he would hand her a check and go back to his life.
He ignored the wave of melancholy that that thought brought on.
Hell, there was a simple explanation for all this angst he was feeling. He hadn’t been with another woman in…gads, had it been six months? No wonder he was reeling from all these unwanted emotions. But it was about time to snap out of it, he thought. A beautiful woman was pressing her lush body against him and he had the unrelenting urge to bury himself inside her. Again. And again.
And why not? Shouldn’t he be making up for lost time? And while he was on the subject, why shouldn’t he and Maggie keep on doing it, as long as the sex was good? And it was definitely good. Hell, it was world class. So why should they go their separate ways once the festival ended? Connor wondered. They lived in the same town, so why not continue to enjoy each other’s company? It didn’t have to be a big deal. Nothing special or permanent. Or complicated. Why couldn’t it just be for fun? They could be friends with benefits. Nothing wrong with that.
For now, he tugged her onto her side facing him, then rolled back until she was on top of him, straddling his solid length.
“Oh, how did I get here?” she said, teasing him.
“Magic,” he whispered, and lifted her up until he could slide into her.
She sank onto him, moaning in pleasure. And there was no more pillow talk for the rest of the night.
* * *
At breakfast Friday morning, Maggie watched Connor scan his email as he finished his coffee. He was dressed more formally than usual in a black suit, white shirt and rich burgundy power tie. He looked so good Maggie wanted to rip off his clothes and have her way with him.
He set his empty coffee cup on the dining table and stood. “I’ve got two meetings back to back this afternoon and the second one will probably run late, so I’ll meet you at the gala by eight o’clock.”
Maggie stood, too, and adjusted his tie. “Connor, I already told you I’m not going to the gala.”
“Let’s not go through this again, Maggie,” he said. “You’ll be there. It’s required.”
She made a face. “No, it’s not. I told you I didn’t want to go. The truth is, I don’t like these sorts of events. I didn’t even bring the right kind of dress to wear.”
“So what?” he said, snapping his phone into its case and shoving it into his suit pocket. “You can wear any one of the dresses you’ve already worn this week.”
“No, I can’t. The gala is formal. Nothing I have is suitable.”
“I’m not dressing formally,” he said, glancing down at his suit.
“Oh, please.” Maggie’s laugh sounded slightly desperate. “That suit’s got to be worth five thousand dollars. I think you can get away with wearing it. But I’ll be expected to wear a gown and I don’t have one.”
“You should’ve thought of that before now,” he said as he walked to the door. “I don’t care what you wear, but I expect to see you there.”
“But—” She ran after him to the door. “Connor, please. I can’t—”