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Maggie had showed him that he was capable of more. She was a masterful domme—one who had sensed what he needed and somehow had known just how to get around his walls—but she was also just an amazing woman with a big heart. She’d seen his need and had helped him. He didn’t know what he could be to her or what she wanted from him. Maybe just to be play partners without so many boundaries. Maybe to be friends. He wasn’t going to assume more than that. But for the first time, he was willing to open his mind to having someone else in his life.
He swiped his face with the sleeve of his shirt as the rising sun started to lighten the rain clouds, and he strolled around her studio, taking in her artwork. He could spend all day in there, noticing all the little details she included in her paintings. She was a gifted painter who captured emotion on the canvas with a masterful hand. He’d already decided he needed at least three of them for his own place.
He went over to a stack that was leaning against the wall and flipped through another few animal portraits, looking for the rest in that series of nudes she’d talked about last night. But when he got to the last one, he stilled. It was a nude but definitely not female. And, holy shit …
He pulled out the canvas, setting it down in front of the others, his heart picking up speed as he looked at it again. It was of a man in submission on his knees, his back to the observer. His head was bowed, his face hidden, but his muscles were tensed and strong, his hands fisted at his sides. Chains were locked around his forearms and wrapped all the way to the biceps, but the metal was straining. It was a painting of powerful submission—a man about to break free of his bonds. But that’s not what caught his attention. No, what drew his eye and had his breath catching in his throat was the long jagged scar on the man’s back—right from the left shoulder to the ribs.
Theo sank to his knees and touched the corner of the painting where Maggie had signed it with her flourishing signature. Above the signature was a simple title for the work: Mine.
Theo braced his hands on his thighs, this sense of peace coming over him. Maggie had said she wanted to paint him, but she already had. And she’d captured his image in a way that said she had spent a long time memorizing every angle of his body, every intricate nuance of his posture, but also in a way that said she knew him. His heart. His struggles. And despite all that, she wanted him anyway. Mine. The word echoed through his mind, settled in the center of his chest.
Hers.
That thought didn’t scare him like he thought it would.
“You are in so much trouble for digging through my paintings,” said a firm voice from the doorway.
He looked over to find Maggie standing at the entrance to the room—silky robe wrapped around her body, hair piled on top of her head in a messy knot, and a threatening look in her eye. He’d never seen anything more beautiful.
“You painted me.”
She rubbed her lips together, her eyes going to the painting, then she shrugged. “So, news flash: I may have had a wee crush on you once upon a time.”
He rocked to his feet and tucked his hands in his pockets. “Yeah? You’re all done with that now?”
She wrapped her arms around herself, looking bored. “Totally.”
“So that’s how it is, huh? Use me for my impressive skills in bed and then move on?” His lips lifted at the corners.
“Well, they were quite impressive. I may need you to do another audition if I’m going to reinstate this aforementioned crush, though.”
He walked over to her and grabbed the belt of her robe, pulling her close. “I may consider this audition. May take me a few times to get it right, though.”
She blew out a breath and put her hands to his chest. “I woke up and I thought you’d left.”
He frowned. “I thought about it. I woke up and freaked out for a few minutes. But then I saw you lying there, and you were snoring so loud I figured you might have sleep apnea and needed a doctor to stay nearby.”
She gasped and then shoved his chest. “I do not snore.”
He chuckled. “And how would you know that?”
Her nose scrunched up into this adorable scowl and she shoved him again. “Because I know.”
He dragged her close again and kissed her wrinkled nose. “You’re right. You don’t. What I really thought when I saw you lying there was that the world wasn’t fair. That a bastard like me should’ve never been given a shot with one amazing woman much less a chance with a second one.”
Sympathy crossed her face. “Theo …”
He brushed a hand over her hair. “Shh. No sadness, okay? It’s a new day and a new year. I want to start this off right.”
A saucy smile touched her lips. “I can think of a few ways.”
“So can I. And I know just where to start.”
“Oh yeah, how’s that?”
He took a step back then lowered himself down to one knee, grabbed her hand, and met her eyes. “Mistress Margaret, would you do me the great honor of having pie with me? And by pie, I mean pie.”
Her eyebrows arched.
