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Or was it herself she needed to be honest with?
“You’ve always gone after the things you wanted. You’ve never been one to let life pass you by. Why start now?”
Maggie thought about that for the rest of the night. Saturday seemed to drag. She finished her laundry and workout by nine o’clock, leaving a yawning gap in her calendar. Vanessa had a date that evening, and her mother was camping out at a music festival. Finally, she considered going to the Den.
The online calendar showed that tonight’s event was designed for new Dommes and those interested. It was possible she’d find a dominant male there, but it was a long drive for that gamble.
Truthfully, she wanted another taste of David’s lash. It wasn’t just a scene she wanted. It was him.
She ended up doing a ton of work from home and streaming an entire season’s worth of a police drama. Too often, she wondered what David was doing.
By Sunday, she knew she had to face her nightmare. She wasn’t running from him as much as she was trying to protect herself.
That left only one course of action. She had to talk to him.
* * * *
Monday crawled. Since she didn’t want to mix work and sex, she decided to talk to him after everyone else had gone home.
Finally, later than normal, her mother waved goodnight, saying she was heading to her first belly dancing lesson. Once the front door had closed, Maggie squared her shoulders and walked down the hallway to David’s office.
She knocked on the doorframe and waited until he looked up from the stack of papers before him. “May I come in?”
“Please.”
Her stomach plunged as she took a seat. Now that she was here, the object of his scrutiny, she wasn’t sure what to say.
He allowed the silence to grow before asking, “Something on your mind, Maggie?”
“I…” She tipped back her head.
Waiting silently, with the patience it took for water to wear a hole in a rock, he reached for a yellow stress ball that was sitting on his desktop.
After swallowing her nerves, she seized all her courage and met his intense gaze. “What does a girl have to do to get a spanking around here?”
Chapter Five
David squeezed the ball tight.
Maggie had asked her question with a light, teasing tone, likely so that she could be flippant about it if he turned her down. But he heard the shakiness that sketched across her vocal chords. Her body was rigid, her smile false and the atmosphere seemed charged with tension. His answer and this moment, both mattered to her.
He’d given up hope that she would mention playing with him again.
And he respected that. If Maggie wanted to keep their personal experience confined to a one-night stand at the Den… Well, that wasn’t the way he preferred it, but he wouldn’t push. For any relationship with a sub to be successful, she had to offer herself freely. Now that she was here…
He tried not to let her know how many times he’d jacked off, thinking about her coming to him and asking to scene. Since the night at the Den, he’d thought about little else other than Maggie and her unrehearsed responses, her whimpers, the way she moved her body, sometimes with sensuous grace, sometimes with an exaggerated tease.
Part of him realised it would have been smarter not to have played with her in the first place. The taste had whetted his appetite. Seeing her every day, tight skirt clinging to her rounded derrière, made it worse. He’d spent days fantasising about having her in his cuffs, over his knee, under his control.
With deliberate mastery, he reined in his thoughts. Choosing his words with great care, he said, “If a particular sub wanted something, she’d ask, and she’d be specific about her intent.” He leant back in his chair and regarded her, deciding how to proceed. He wanted her to feel as if she had some power, but he knew she wanted him to be in charge.
Maggie unclasped her hands and scooted back in the chair, crossing one leg over the other in a sexy slide of silk. Her posture and the way she folded her hands in her lap was perfect.
He adored women who embraced their softer side, but he’d never seen it so integrated in a woman he’d once suspected was a Domme. A tendril of hair had escaped its confines to tease her cheekbone. He wanted to stroke it back as he grabbed her chin and held it hostage. “She would also be frank about her expectations and what she was willing to give. She’d have to be honest with herself as well as me.” He released the ball.
