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She’d fallen asleep in his arms, and it had been a long, long time since she’d done something like that.
Hours later, when her alarm had shattered the silence, he was gone. He hadn’t left a note. Other than the residual tenderness in her body and the fact her clothes were still in the living room, there was no sign he’d been there at all.
As she grabbed a cup of coffee, it hit her.
She’d slept all night with no bad dreams.
Being with him had been everything she’d hoped. He’d given her the beating she wanted. She’d surrendered to it, to him. He’d been ruthless and persistent, sending her to subspace and keeping her there.
The way he’d brought her back had been sublime. He’d let her drift, but he’d kept her aware of his presence. She’d known that he was watching her. If she’d been in any distress, he would have taken care of it, with great competence, she was sure.
Maggie wondered if that was one of the problems she’d had with him when they’d first met. His confidence had irritated her. She’d wanted to label it as over-confidence, but over the past months, he’d backed up everything he’d said.
Now, rather than chafing under his control, she was accepting it. Last night, she’d flourished as a result.
Conscious of the time ticking away, she hurried through her shower then walked into her closet.
She recollected some of his comments from last night. He’d been verbal about her undergarments and that made her hesitate over what to choose. Every day, she wore stockings and a garter belt to work because she liked the feeling. Today, though, he’d know what was beneath her skirt.
Even if he didn’t comment, their work dynamic would be altered.
She’d always been able to separate her BDSM scenes from the rest of her life, compartmentalising each piece. Of course, until now, she’d never had to face her Dom at the office the next day. Well, not that she’d ever had a true Dom before, either.
Maggie shuddered. She had been certain she could manage to work with him. After all, the contract wasn’t forever and they didn’t care about each other.
She snagged her lingerie for the day then shoved the drawer closed.
Before the scene had occurred, it had been easy to convince herself it was a good idea. Now the workday and reality loomed. Things appeared complicated.
In the mirror she saw a reflection of a red mark—a single welt—above the back of her knees. She fingered it the best she could with the awkward angle. Breath evaporated from her lungs. Even if she should, she didn’t regret last night. In fact, she wanted more.
There it was. Honesty.
She wanted to see him again.
When he’d been selecting toys last night, he’d announced that they were spending the weekend together. Since the air between them had been charged with eroticism, she wasn’t sure he’d meant it.
This was one of her biggest fears—the more BDSM scenes she got, the more she wanted.
With grim determination, keeping up a constant internal dialogue about how she could face him as if last night hadn’t happened, she dressed.
For fortification, she added a blazer and took extra time with her hair.
She entered the offices feeling as if she were in control.
“The tyrant hasn’t shown up yet,” her mother said.
Agreeing with Gloria would feel disloyal to David.
“It’s becoming a bad habit,” Gloria continued.
“He was the first one here yesterday,” Maggie said. She refused to add that she had no idea what time he’d made the drive from Littleton to Castle Rock.
Gloria had one elbow propped on the reception desk. A maxi skirt flowed over her hips and ended at her ankles. She wore thong sandals that showed off her toe rings and bright blue was splashed across her nails. Specks of white seemed dropped on the tops. She wondered if they were supposed to be flowers but couldn’t be bothered asking.
Barb was leaning back in her chair, cup of coffee in one hand, as if enjoying the show.
“Is there more of that?” Maggie asked, pointing at the coffee.
“Knew you were coming in,” Barb responded. “So it’s extra strong.” She made no attempt to go get a cup for Maggie.
