Uncovering Maggie Read online

  Uncovering Maggie

  KT Morrison

  Contents

  About the Author

  Also by KT Morrison

  1. Albany

  2. Storm

  3. Grande

  4. Convention

  5. Valkyries

  6. Inches

  7. Witness

  8. Claim

  9. Best Man

  10. Crater

  11. Twilight

  12. Security

  13. Meat Lover

  Afterword

  Other Books by KT Morrison

  About the Author

  KT Morrison writes stories about women who fall in love with sexy men who aren’t their husband, and loving relationships that go too far—couples who open a mysterious door, then struggle to get it closed as trouble pushes through the threshold.

  Visit My Blog!

  sparrow3dx.blogspot.com

  Also by KT Morrison

  Click here for the KT Bookshelf

  SERIES

  Maggie

  Obsessed

  The Cayman Proxy

  Landlord

  NOVELS

  Cherry Blossoms

  Learning Lessons

  Going A Little Too Far

  Pool Party

  SHORTS

  Taken While He Watches: On Their Honeymoon

  Taken While He Watches: At The Combine

  Taken By His Best Friends: At The Hockey Rink

  Measured Next To Her Ex

  Size Curious Brat

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  Models on cover are meant for illustrative purposes only.

  UNCOVERING MAGGIE

  A MAGGIE novel.

  First Edition. November 7, 2017.

  Copyright © 2017 KT Morrison

  Written by KT Morrison

  Cover by KT Morrison

  1

  Albany

  Saturday, October 21st

  Max woke before the alarm sounded. Didn’t get much sleep at all in the last hour what with the impending day’s schedule. He’d woken at 2:13, drifted, reawaken at 3:23, now he was awake yet again and the alarm set for 4:15 would sound shortly.

  In his arms, warm and light and silky soft, was the love of his life. During high school, he’d dated close to twenty girls. Had sex with nine of them. Steady-dated two of them. Never had he been in love. Not until a fateful frat party in his first year at Farmingham had nudged young Maggie into his life had he ever considered what love really was. He’d been infatuated with girls before. Hell, he’d been infatuated with Maggie—but it had never been love until her.

  Last night they’d had sex without Cole. Just the two of them in bed together like a normal engaged couple, like the couple they were at the beginning of this school year. Dinner at Altieri’s for two. Quiet talk, holding hands, looking in each other’s eyes. They didn’t talk about Cole, didn’t talk about Jay, didn’t talk about Max watching her with her other men. They talked about themselves, the wedding, the wedding dress, Ken and the video (he shrugged, said, Who knows? Those things can sometimes just shit the bed). They talked about her attending law school. Shit, it was a good idea. She was a talented artist, a brilliant musician, but it didn’t consume her. It wouldn’t be something that would fuel her fire for the rest of her life. Art was just something she excelled at, not something that made her breathe. Maggie’s grades were top in her class. She qualified for law school. Her accomplishments outside of school were noteworthy for an Admission Council. There was time for the application, time for the LSAT. If she wanted to go to Harvard, she would go to Harvard.

  At dinner he left out his shortcomings. Left out the implication he failed her by taking a job with her father’s help. Honestly didn’t see that one coming. Seemed the emotions of their sexual journey stirred some internal cauldron and its hot stew was starting to spill over the edges. He would keep an eye on that for her.

  So, avoiding conversations about his future and their dirty present, last night had been almost magical. Wondered if she was up to something which was a terrible thing to think. But she had given him a beautiful night, and it was a gleaming gem amongst the dirty ones of the previous weeks. Perhaps she knew it was needed.

  After dinner, they’d wandered back to campus hand in hand. Jessie was away in Brattleboro for the weekend, staying with a new boyfriend who attended VSU, so they had the room for the night. They’d made love. Didn't do it dirty, didn't say awful things to each other; no slut talk, no mention of her other lover’s abilities and endowments. They kissed for half an hour. His hands traveled her while she was clothed.

  They undressed each other, still kissing, drawing out the evening in dilatory luxury. Pleasure was given to him in a long, amaranthine blowjob. Maggie’s already prodigious oral skill had been polished even brighter by exploring with other men. But he’d pushed that thought away, as exciting as it was, and reciprocated the eye contact she’d demanded while her mouth kept him teetering on the edge of a dangerous orgasm for almost an hour. Then, when she had every muscle in his body seized like twisted cable, she’d rewarded him, letting him erupt in her mouth, staring into his eyes while she swallowed every drop. They’d laughed and cuddled.

  He went down on her soon after; she writhed in the sheets, called his name. She came. Immediately he’d got between her legs and made love. She came again. This time in missionary. Maggie, always sexual, had become a primed beast. In tune with her sexuality in a way that was startling. Using her mind or whatever tricks she had—shit, maybe it was his own skill, could you imagine?—whatever the reason, she’d come three times with him between her legs. Missionary position with Max was not usually orgasm-inducing.

  Her sweet thighs stroked up and down his hips, her nails scratched his back. She told him to come inside her and he did. Ate her out again, his seed spilling from her slit. That also made her come, crying out his name as she did. They made love four more times. He came each time and so did she. She rode him; he had her on all fours, spooning with her, one bare foot of hers planted on a sketch posted on her wall. No anal.

  Sometime after midnight they’d fallen asleep together, under her sheets, table lamp on, her nestled in his arms, face-to-face, her chin on his shoulder.

  His heart burst with happiness.

  Sleep was fitful with the light on. Despite the exhausting events of the evening a deep and much-needed sleep never came to him.

  He inhaled deeply just to feel the slow sticky seal expand on their chests, his skin gaining more ground on Maggie’s creamy breasts squashed against him. His hand searched under the sheets behind her, left and right, finding his phone, then bringing it up to her shoulder so he could read the screen.

  4:14

  It was time.

  Waiting for that last minute to tick over he watched her sleeping face. Sweet and placid, the curves and geometry absolute perfection, it was hard to believe that three weeks ago she was entirely his. Still capable now of heart-swelling winsomeness, a glimmer of something ungentle flickered in her eyes this past ten days and he had to extinguish it. It was the spark that ignited ideas like attending law school, and while attending law school was something positive, her revelation of the decision had a metallic, pitiless taste.

  At the first sounding of his alarm’s digital wind chime his thumb closed it off. Maggie stirred in his arms, regardless. A frown creased her sleepy face, her lips pursed, and she made displeased little-girl sounds in her throat, her arms circled him tighter. She grunted a sound that sounded like No. Lips pressed to her forehead in a long gentle kiss, he hugged her back, and she stretched her body out to press more of it against him.

  His dick stirred, squash
ed between them now, hanging down and pressed hard by her trim tummy. There wasn’t time, but he marveled for a moment, smilingly, at her ability to conjure up his demons when he’d come inside her body five times in the last six hours, and was frankly a little sore. His prostate ached and the skin of his penis stung.

  When he tried slipping his arm out from under her she grunted with displeasure again, her face pinching in a comical scowl.

  “Maggie...”

  She grunted, “No.”

  “I have to go.”

  “Stay with me,” she whispered.

  His heart swelled with love again, his cock too, and against better judgment his lips found hers. They kissed for a moment, but despite the eagerness for him to stay, her lips grew tired and she drifted asleep. She woke again though when he slipped his arm farther.

  “No,” she said with cute demanding.

  He had her smiling, and his arms slipped free, but her hands clamored for him and she climbed his body as he sat up. Her weight sent them both onto the bed again, Maggie on top, her mouth clamped on his nipple. He ran his fingers through her uniformly russet hair and let her suckle and kiss at him.

  “Maggie, I have to get going.”

  “You sure?” she said, wiggling her hips so her tummy squirmed on the rock hard erection pressing into her.

  “Mm, I’d love to but I think it needs a rest.”

  “You can’t keep up with me?”

  “I know your tricks. Challenging my manhood won’t make me stay.”

  “Yes, it will,” she giggled, gripped both her hands on his shoulders and pressed her cheek to his chest. “I’ll get a man who won’t leave my bed. I’ll get a man that can give it as many times as I need it.”

  It stabbed him good. “Maggie...”

  “I’m kidding,” she said, climbing his body higher and coming face to face with him, her narrow, sleepy eyes looking down on him from above.

  “No, you’re not.”

  Her lips lowered to his, pressed them. She said, “If I do, I’ll tell you all about it.”

  “Promise me you’ll be good while I’m gone.”

  “I promise.”

  “Promise what?”

  “I promise I’ll be a good girl,” she said, eyes closing, her body settling against his, then slipping to the side.

  He crawled out from under her, pulled the sheets so she would be covered. Got dressed at the side of her dorm room bed, eyes on her sleeping shape the whole time. When he was ready, his travel bag slung over his shoulder, he sat on the edge of the bed, pressing the mattress down, making her body lean against his knee. The smooth pale point of her shoulder peeked above the hem of the sheets he’d pulled over her and he kissed her there.

  “I love you so much, Maggie Becker,” he said quietly.

  Her eyes were closed, but she smiled wide, her lips making a popping bubble sound as they parted over her white teeth.

  “I love you so much, Max Milton.”

  While bending over her he wrapped her in his arms and she snuggled against him. They kissed fully and held it a long while, breathing each other in.

  When they parted, she said, “You give your mom and dad big huge hugs from me, okay? Tell them I love them.”

  “I promise,” he said.

  “I’ll miss you.”

  “I’ll be back on Monday. I guess I’ll see you on Monday night.”

  He kissed her forehead, loved its warmth against his lips, stood and clicked off the table lamp and put the room in dark. Sounds of her naked body under the sheets lured him back, but his phone dinged.

  Cole: I’m out front fucker 420 in the morn

  He laughed silently, texted back.

  Max: be right out

  It was an hour and a half drive from the Green Mountains into Albany. Max slept most of the way, rocking back and forth in the front seat of the Jeep while tinny music bashed from Cole’s iPhone sitting in the cupholder.

  When he woke up, he saw pre-dawn light painting pale geometric shapes on the top sides of low, grim, city buildings. He blinked his eyes awake, sat upright in the Jeep’s seat. His breathing was heavy and slow.

  Traffic was light, just blue-collar workers on their way home from midnight shifts being buffeted by semis rolling probably for thirty-six hours straight. As he came more awake he stretched his neck around, inhaled loudly over top of Cole’s iPhone music, said, “Holy shit, are we in Albany?”

  Cole, in the driver's seat, elbow on his window ledge, bent wrist draped over the steering wheel, said, “Yeah, real nice—ask your friend to drive you in the middle of the night to the airport then you sleep the whole way.”

  “Shit, sorry.”

  It was true. He got into the Jeep back at Farmingham and the last thing he remembered was rolling out of the campus, driving down the village’s main street, and then that first section of country road where it seemed like they were getting swallowed up by the tall trees. Then he was in Albany. Driving on the highway.

  “What time is it?” he said, phone tucked away somewhere in his pants pocket, sealed shut by his seatbelt, Cole’s busted stereo showing nothing but a dead display.

  “We got lots of time, let me get you breakfast.”

  And as he said that he got both hands on the wheel, one hand darting to his indicator, sending a glance then over his shoulder and merging off to the right and exiting the highway.

  They curled the exit ramp, hissed under a glowing yellow Denny’s sign on a rust colored steel pole extending high above. The parking lot was empty but for a half-dozen vehicles and Cole put the Jeep out alone under the pale amber glow of a lamppost.

  They crossed the frigid lot, and he noticed despite the temperature, Cole wore shorts and flip-flops. He’d bundled up in a flannel, and a bulky Farmingham Lacrosse hooded sweatshirt. Ball cap turned backwards, he sported a scruffy beard and his long blonde hair fluttered in the chilly wind. Max was dressed for travel; clean chinos, plaid button-down and a duffel coat.

  Cole led the way, hands in pockets, eyes half-lidded in lazy confidence. A plump young waitress rushed them menus, and she was awkward near handsome Cole.

  He said, “Coffees,” without a smile, wagging two extended fingers and then taking his hat off while she scampered off like a frightened mouse. Cole tied his thick hair back in a bun using an elastic he wore on his wrist.

  “What’d you do last night?” he said, rubbing his cheeks and his eyes.

  “Dinner. Back to Keegan.”

  “You guys do it?” he chuckled, eyes turned down to the huge menu he opened.

  Max laughed too, watching Cole carefully. He didn’t seem bothered that Max slept with Maggie. Of course, he shouldn’t. Maggie would be Max’s wife. “Five times,” he said.

  Cole’s eyes moved over the breakfast menu and he smiled honestly. “Aww,” he cooed. “My little Maggie.”

  Max continued, eyes still on Cole while he read. “Wore me out.”

  “Yeah, dude. Maggie is a demon.”

  “Uh-huh,” he said, studying him. “She blew me for an hour.”

  Cole closed his eyes and leaned back in the booth, still holding the menu. His shoulders shook with a quiet chortle, eyebrows high and mirthful. “God, she is good at that.”

  A red spark lit in Max’s eye. He twitched. With a sharp inhale he swiped up his own menu. “You paying?”

  “It’s on me, bro,” Cole said.

  Max’s eyes went up and down his menu like he was reading it though he knew what he would order. He shook his head with disdain, going over Cole’s agreement on Maggie’s oral skills, hearing it repeat in his ears. If this were a movie, the hero would stand up and pop Cole one. But this wasn’t the movies and life was way more complicated than a plot could ever figure and Jesus Christ, he’d asked for that response, didn’t he? While no man should ever know how his future wife sucks other cocks well, it still excited him.

  Menu set down, he said, “She is good at that, isn’t she?”

  Cole made a face, eye
brows high in awe. He turned, signaled the waitress. “Yeah, man. I mean, right?”

  The girl was there immediately, nervous smile, two rosy nickels staining her cheeks. She flipped their cups and filled them with steaming coffee. Cole said, “Lumberjack Slam. Max ...?”

  “Moons Over My Hammy.”

  The girl collected the menus, batted her eyes, scampered away again.

  “It’s not just me?”

  “Maggie?”

  “Yeah.”

  “No, Max. She’s unbelievable. Like, I mean ... the best ever. There was this one girl in first year, who ... yeah, she was good,” he said, looking up at the stucco tile ceiling, reminiscing. “But, Maggie loves it. You know? Loves it.”

  “She does. No other girl is close,” he said competitively.

  Cole nodded. “Like, she ...” his eyes darted to see if they were overheard, but no one sat nearby. Cole leaned closer, “She takes it deep,” he whispered, “but still, you know, uses her tongue. Her throat too. Squeezes my cock ...”

  Max felt uncomfortably hard for some reason. This was an awful conversation, but he was enthralled. “I know,” he agreed.

  “Some girls, like, won’t ... don’t want to ...” his voice had dropped to a soft whisper, “cause they’ll say, they don’t like uncircumcised guys or, you know, I’m too thick or whatever. That night by the fire ...? Best blowjob I ever had. She takes it out, gets right to it ... does things I’ve never felt. Ever. Lets me come in her mouth ...”

  “I know ...”

  Cole shook his head. “She’s fucking unreal, man,” he laughed and leaned back in the booth again. “God ... unreal,” he repeated.