The Cowboy

and moved his fingers into the triangle of curls at the junction of her thighs. Suddenly his hand was still.
    "Rafe, what's wrong?" Margaret asked softly.
    "Nothing. Nothing's wrong." He bent his head and tasted one full nipple. The sensation was exquisite. "I'm just half out of my mind with wanting you now that I've finally got you back in my bed. But I want to do this right. I intended to take it slow. I've waited this long to make it perfect for you."
    She laughed, a soft, throaty sound that made him want to hug her. "Rafe, it was always so good, no matter how we did it—fast, slow or in between. You don't have to worry about how we do it tonight."
    He groaned and kissed her throat. "Touch me, baby. Feel how much I want you."
    Her gentle fingers closed around him and Rafe sucked in his breath, his eyes slitting in reaction to the caress. "You're right. It was good any way we did it and there's no way I can take it slow tonight." He reached over and yanked open the drawer in the nightstand, groping for the small box he had optimistically put there earlier. He used one hand and his teeth to open the packet so he could keep the other hand on Maggie's thigh. He didn't want to let go of her for a second.
    A moment later he moved again, rolling on top of Maggie with the wild eagerness of a stallion. He tried to control himself but she was reaching up to clasp him to her and her willingness was his undoing. He parted her legs with his own.
    "Yes, Rafe. Please."
    He felt her silken thighs alongside his hips and a near-violent wave of desire surged through him. When he probed her carefully he met the damp, welcoming heat and that was all he could stand. He guided himself into her, driving forward into her core. She was so tight. He wondered if he should stop and give her time to adjust to him. After all, it had been a whole year.
    But he couldn't stop. Not now. He needed to bury himself within her. Rafe moaned as he slid fully into her depths. He heard her soft cry in his ear and her nails dug into his shoulders.
    "Am I hurting you?" he asked, his breathing turning ragged.
    "No. No, it feels wonderful. It's just…been a while, that's all."
    "Too damn long for both of us."
    "Yes." She lifted her hips against him, telling him she was ready now, urging him into the ancient rhythm.
    Rafe needed no additional coaxing. He held her so tightly he was half afraid of crushing her. But she clung to him just as fiercely. He sank himself again and again into her heat until he felt her tightening around him in the old, familiar way.
    "Rafe."
    "That's it, Maggie, love," he muttered against her mouth. "Come on, honey. Go wild for me."
    She shivered and cried out again. He opened his mouth over hers and swallowed the soft, sweet sound. She bucked beneath him and he groaned heavily. Nothing had ever been as shatteringly sexy to Rafe as the feel of Maggie climaxing beneath him.
    He waited until the last of the tremors were fading and then he slammed into her one more time and felt himself explode.
    Rafe rode the storm for what seemed like forever, the passion in him apparently limitless. And then it was over. He relaxed heavily on top of Maggie, squashing her into the damp sheets.
    His last coherent thought was that the waiting and planning were finally finished. He had his Maggie back. No one had ever made him feel the way Maggie did.
    It was a long time before Rafe reluctantly stirred. He only did so because he felt Maggie pushing experimentally against his shoulder.
    "What's wrong?" he mumbled, half asleep.
    "You're getting very heavy."
    "Nag, nag, nag." He levered himself slowly away from her and rolled onto his back. He cradled her close to his side and yawned. "Better?"
    "Umm-hmm." She kissed his jaw and then his shoulder, her lips incredibly soft against his skin. "I'd better get back to my own room before I fall asleep."
    "No," he muttered instantly. He opened one eye to glare at her. "You sleep here."
    She smiled. "I think it would be better if I went back to my own room."
    "Why?" He was beginning to feel belligerent.
    "Because we aren't alone in the house, remember?"
    "My mother and your father both know we've had an affair in the not so distant past and they both know why you're here now. They're not going to ask any questions about why you spent the night in my room. They've taken more than one weekend trip together, you know. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if your father is paying a late night visit to my mother even as we