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training gig instead of the paid domme role would be more fulfilling, but she was having trouble getting invested in the sessions. Lately, she felt like she was just going through the motions. The subs she was working with were great, but she hadn’t felt that special thrill she used to get from a visit to The Ranch in a long damn time. “I think so. After two training sessions with newbies and that New Year’s party, I’m wiped. I need hot chocolate and fuzzy slippers.”
Janessa leaned in the doorway with a sly smile. “Might want to rethink that and find a second wind.”
“Why is that? And don’t tell me it’s for girls’ night in the employee bar. Last time I agreed to that, I had a hangover for like two days.”
She laughed. “Lightweight. And no, it’s not that. It’s better. Guess which sexy doctor just walked in and is asking for you?”
Maggie paused, the zipper squeezing beneath her fingers and her stomach giving a little twist. “Seriously? He hasn’t been here in months. I thought after last time …”
“The front desk told him that you weren’t taking clients anymore and had moved into training, but you know how he is. He didn’t exactly accept that answer, wants to talk to you first.”
“Shit.” She yanked her zipper back up. She’d already taken her hair down from the severe twist she wore here at The Ranch, but that couldn’t be helped. There’d be no getting it back in place. She finger-combed her hair and checked her reflection in the mirror to make sure her makeup hadn’t smeared.
“You are so adorable,” Janessa teased. “The other dommes want a crack at the doc because he’s so damn smug. They want to put him in his place. But you actually have a thing for him, don’t you?”
Maggie ran her fingertips under her eyes to clean up her eyeliner. “I do not get things for my clients.”
Okay, so maybe once upon a time she’d had a thing for Theo—or Theodore as she called him when he was in her dungeon. It was hard not to. The man was gorgeous, brilliant … and intense. Seeing such a stoic, powerful man submit to her flipped all of her switches. But she’d been stupid enough to think that what was developing between them over their sessions together was something real. Like some big-time doctor from the city would be interested in a small-town artsy chick. Please. She knew better than to get attached to anyone who was paying her money to dominate them. But it had happened. And when she’d crossed the line and gone beyond the physical and asked him a personal question—he’d said his safe word so fast she’d gotten whiplash. The man who could take a beating that would make even the toughest subs weep for mercy had safed out on a simple request of, “Tell me why you look so sad today.”
“Well, the guy you do not have a thing for is in Room C,” Janessa said.
“Thanks.” Maggie adjusted her corset, made sure everything was still in place, and then crossed the dressing area to move past Janessa. But her friend put a hand on her arm. Maggie halted. “What’s wrong?”
Janessa smoothed her lip-gloss. “Just a little advice, Mags. Don’t forget that your decision to stop taking clients was yours. If that’s really what you want, don’t let the doctor sweet-talk you into breaking your rules.”
Maggie laughed. “Sweet-talk? I think Dr. Theodore Montgomery is literally incapable of saying anything that would be deemed sweet. But I hear you. Thanks.”
Janessa nodded. Maggie could tell her friend was in mentor mode now. Janessa had been her original trainer here, so though she was only a few years older than Maggie, Maggie had learned a lot from her about how to be a domme.
Once Maggie got into the cool air of the hallway, she took a deep breath and straightened her spine. Confidence always. That’s how she walked around here—even if she didn’t feel it all the time. And with Theo, she’d have to have all that armor in place because sometimes seeing him made her want to dissolve into the nerves of a swoony teenager. Even on his knees, the man was intimidating as hell.
She made her way down the hallway and opened up the door to Room C. Usually when Maggie saw him, he was already stripped down to his boxer briefs. He had a hard limit about nudity, so she’d never seen him completely bared, but today wasn’t a session, so he was in dark jeans and a gray henley, black hair just a little past time for a haircut. He hadn’t noticed the door crack open, so she took a moment to enjoy the view. That man always made her want to paint. Her fingers itched to map the hard lines of him with her brush, color in the dark shadows and the way the light fell on his face.
Tonight, he was sitting on one of the benches, forearms on thighs, hands loosely clasped between his knees. To most, he’d look relaxed, like he was simply waiting. But Maggie had studied him enough to recognize the tension in him. She’d call this painting Storm Behind Glass.
She stepped inside and he peered up at the sound of her heels clicking on the concrete. He didn’t smile. He never did. But the flicker of relief in his eyes was its own reward. “Mistress.”
“Theodore.” She shut the door behind her with a click. “This is unexpected.”
“I know.” His focus flicked to her loose hair. “I apologize if I interrupted anything.”
The feel of his gaze on her heated her more than it should. He always looked as if he was studying each little thing and analyzing it, filing it away in some data bank. She crossed her arms over her chest in an attempt to look annoyed even though all she really wanted to do was ask him what was wrong, why he was here, why a man who was so regimented would show up unannounced. “You interrupted me going home. I hope you have a good reason.”
He sat up straighter, his eyes meeting hers with a businesslike air. “I would like a session. I know you’re not taking clients anymore, but I’m willing to pay whatever you need to make it worth your time, mistress.”
She frowned. She didn’t deny that she’d taken money for her services. But when he said it that way, it made her sound like a hooker. Like she was just holding out for a better price. She didn’t sleep with clients. She didn’t kiss them. They didn’t get to touch her. She administered pain, humiliation, whatever their kink was, but some things were still her own. And she didn’t appreciate him making it sound like she could be bought out of a decision she’d made. “There are other dommes working tonight. Throw your money at one of them.”
Frown lines appeared around his mouth. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to insult you, mistress. It’s just, I’m not interested in other dommes. I came here for you.”
She ignored the little flutter of he-likes-me-best! pleasure that gave her. Focus, Maggie. “I’m not taking clients anymore does not mean ‘I’m not taking clients unless they pay me enough.’”
There was a flicker in his gaze—worry. It looked out of place on him. “Mistress, please make an exception.”
“Why?”
He looked away, jaw tightening.
She took a few steps forward until she was right in front of him and snapped her fingers, the sound echoing in the cavernous room. “If you expect me to consider it, you will look at me and tell me why.”
