Maggie Ryan – The River’s Edge



Two bodies merged together, two souls became one in the most perfect place on the planet…

The river’s edge.




He’d loved her from the moment she’d smiled up at him.

He’d loved her enough to let her go.

But she’d changed the game when she came back.

The tomboy next door had grown up to be a woman of sass and fire…

This time there would be no escape.

This time he’d stake his claim.

This time…she was his.




“As I said down at the river, you’re the most frustrating, most fascinating creature I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing.”

Smiling at the compliment, I continued to eat as he took a few bites of his own dinner. I told him about Taylor and Brad’s impending parenthood, and he caught me up on some of the people we saw as we ate. Rather loudly, I took the final few slurps of my malt as he smiled and shook his head.

“Fascinating with pretty horrific table manners.”

“I can’t help it,” I said in my own defense. “I’ve been living on cold sandwiches and warm sodas for months. This was really a treat. Thank you.” Using the tip of my straw, I worked the last bit of strawberry up the side of the cup before sucking the fruit into my mouth.

“You’re very welcome,” he said, standing to come around to my chair. Bending down, he spoke close to my ear again. “But have no doubt, babygirl. Before tonight is over, that won’t be the only treat you’ll be enjoying.”

How I managed not to choke or melt into a puddle myself, I’ll never understand. What I did know was that he was well aware that those words would make it absolutely impossible for me not to picture myself on my knees before him, my tongue taking long slow licks up a shaft I already knew would be long and hard. Shuddering as his teeth took a nip of my earlobe and my nipples contracted in pleasure, I carefully placed my cup on the table. Once he’d released the sensitive bit of flesh, I accepted his hand, allowing him to help me to my feet.

I placed my palm on his chest as if I needed a moment to assure I was steady on my feet. “You talk the talk, Mr. Riley,” I said, slowly running my hand down his body, pressing close enough that I was pretty confident no one could see my final destination. Once I felt the very obvious bulge beneath the denim, I curled my fingers around his cock, giving it a very gentle squeeze. “But I do believe you promised to take me dancing. Shall we join the others?”

“There is definitely going to be dancing,” he said, moving his hand to pry mine off his cock as if totally unconcerned that anyone with eyes could see he was aroused. “First we will do a bit of two-stepping,” he said as he began to lead me back outside. “Then there will be a few waltzes.” The music swelled as we got closer to the dancefloor, weaving our way through the labyrinth of lawn chairs that had been added to the perimeter. “We’ll stomp our feet and kick up our heels in the line dances,” he continued, expertly maneuvering around the crowd that had swelled tremendously since our arrival. “And, of course, let’s not forget the requisite hopping about to Donny Osmond’s Rockin Robin.” His arms came around me as we finally reached our destination and he seamlessly merged us with the dancers already circling the floor in a rather complex promenade of a Schottische. After he twirled me away and pulled me back to him for the third time, he held me close and grinned as I smiled up at him. “After which, babygirl, I’m going to teach you every single step of what will become our dance.”

“Oh,” I said as he spun me away again, my skirt swirling to swish against my thighs, my hair whipping around my face with the speed of the twirls, my feet easily following his expert lead. “And what dance is that, may I ask?”

“You may,” he said, yanking me to him, an arm coming around me to press my body hard against his. “That, babygirl, is what is known as the horizontal tango.”


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