Page 57 of Cul-de-sac

Chapter Twenty

Maggie knows the man is therebefore she sees him. She feels him walking toward her bed, the air around him parting like a curtain as he approaches. He stands over her for several long seconds, his eyes penetrating the darkness, as if waiting for her to wake up. She won’t give him the satisfaction, she decides, keeping her eyes resolutely closed, even as she feels him pulling back the covers and climbing into bed beside her. She feels his warm breath on her neck as his lips tease the side of her mouth and his fingers graze her breasts through the silk of her nightgown.

Her body stirs, although her eyes remain closed, even as the man’s hand slips underneath the bottom of the nightgown to caress her, his fingers knowing exactly the right amount of pressure to apply and the exact spot to apply it. “Oh God,” she cries, as her body builds steadily toward climax.

Which is when she wakes up, her eyes opening as she rolls onto her stomach, her own fingers replacing those of the faceless man in her dream, her brain making the quick leap from fantasy to reality.The man of my dreams indeed,she thinks with a laugh, as her body shudders to orgasm. “Thank you,” she whispers into her pillow. “I needed that.”

“Needed what?” a voice asks.

Maggie jumps, a scream escaping her lips as she lunges toward the nightstand beside the bed.

“Mom?” her son asks before she can open the top drawer to get at her gun. “What’s the matter? What are you doing?”

“Oh my God. Leo! You scared me, sweetheart.” Shaking, Maggie holds out her arms for him to come inside. “You can’t scare Mommy like that.”

“I didn’t mean to,” he says, fighting back tears.

“I know you didn’t. I’m the one who should be sorry.” She kisses the top of his head as many times as he will allow before he squirms out of reach.My God,she thinks.Craig was right. If I don’t get a grip, I’m liable to shoot my own son.She shudders again, this time in horror, not pleasure. “What time is it?”

“After eight.”

“What?!”After eight! Day camp starts in less than an hour. And it’s the first day. How will it look if they’re late?“Shit. I forgot to set the alarm.”

“It’s okay,” Leo tells her, his voice measured, not fully convinced. “We have time. I already had breakfast. And I’m all dressed.”

Maggie sees that her son is wearing his new camp uniform—black shorts and a yellow T-shirt emblazoned with the camp logo, Silver Palm Day Camp—along with white socks and sneakers. The socks are clean and everything seems to be right-side out. Even his shoelaces are tied. “You had breakfast?” she asks, her eyes filling with tears of pride.

“Just some cereal. I spilled some milk on the table.”

“Oh God. You’re such a sweet thing. I love you so much. You know that, don’t you?”

He smiles. “What do you need?”

“What do I need?” Maggie repeats.

“Just before you started yelling, you said you needed something.”

Maggie feels a blush building beneath her cheeks when she thinks of her erotic dream and tries to shake both the blush and the memory away with a toss of her head. “I must have been dreaming.”

“Was it a nightmare?”

“Can’t remember.”

Erin is suddenly in the doorway, sleep clinging to her half-closed eyes, a frown dragging her lips toward her chin. “What the hell is going on in here?”

“Hi, sweetheart,” Maggie says. “You’re up early.”

“Like you gave me any choice. What’s with all the racket?”

“Mom had a nightmare,” Leo explains. “I got dressed myself and made breakfast.”

“Well, whoop-dee-doo.”

“Erin…” Maggie warns, climbing out of bed.

Erin rolls her eyes. “I’m going back to sleep.”

“I thought you were going to start looking for a job this morning.” Maggie regrets her words even before they’re out of her mouth.

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