Page 54 of In His Cuffs

“You could be a bit more agreeable when you follow them.”

“Am I the only one who has to bend, Sir?” she asked as she walked past him.

The words walloped him. No doubt he liked to have things his way, always had. But, in addition to his other faults, was he that inflexible?

He grabbed a platter for the steaks then went outside. A water glass sat on the top of the table, filled with flowers from his garden. In that moment he realised how sterile his home was. Since Sandy had insisted everything in their old house have sentimental meaning, he’d let her keep all of it. When he’d bought this house, he’d hired a designer to furnish it. The only thing he’d had any input on had been the bed. He missed the touches a woman could provide. “Table looks great. Thank you for the help,” he said.

She sipped from her glass.

“How do you want your steak?”

“Medium-rare. Unless it’s already too late?”

“Should be perfect.” He served them both, and it seemed she relaxed—he liked the transformation.

“Delicious,” she told him after taking a bite. “Like you said, I need my strength.”

“You have no idea.”

The more comfortable she became, the sexier her movements were. Though he’d just fucked her, he couldn’t wait to have her again.

“You know, Maggie, your slow word is for use any time.”

“Mr Tomlinson?” she asked, putting down her utensils.

“Inside, when you asked if you were the only one who has to bend… I’m not sure if you were trying to express your displeasure at me telling you that we were going to eat outside, or whether you meant something more serious by it that you need to discuss. I understand you think I’m being somewhat high-handed, and the truth is, you’re right.”

“Well then,” she said. “That settles that.”

“I’m a Dom, Maggie. You’re a sub.”

“So you know what’s best for me?”

“Maybe not,” he admitted. “But I do know I love looking at you. I spent far too much time this morning picturing your naked body in the sunshine.”

“Damn it, Mr Tomlinson.”

“It’s not just about bending you to my will—”

“Though that’s an added bonus,” she interrupted.

“Agreed. But it’s about appreciating you and your willingness to do things to please me.” He gave her a chance to respond. “Speechless?” he asked into the silence.

“I’m not very good at putting your needs first, I suppose.”

“Hence the constant battle. At work, Maggie, my track record shows I do know what’s best for the bottom line. Even there, I don’t act without consulting you. I wonder if you’re fighting me for the sake of fighting me, for what you feel is your independence. We’ve proved time and again that we work well together.” He paused. “When you let us.”

She sat back.

“Tell me, Maggie, when have I demanded something irrational? You have to admit the company is better for your involvement.”

“The company, yes.”

“And how have I stifled your earning potential or creativity or authority?”

“You haven’t.” She reached for her empty wineglass and rolled the stem between her palms. “Having you in charge has been an adjustment.”

“You were under no duress when you came here,” he reminded her.

“I think…” She stared into her glass for at least thirty seconds before looking up at him with her guileless brown eyes. “To you, it’s not just about the spanking and getting me off, is it?”

“Not even close,” he said, voice flat. “I will do everything in my power to please you and give you multiple orgasms, but I expect reciprocity. I don’t mean in terms of sex, I mean respect.” Though he’d made an attempt to be flexible, he realised he’d again sounded dictatorial. “Look, Maggie, I’m screwing this up.”

“No. You’re not. I get it. You’re right. I have been accusing you of being an ogre, and I’ve been worse. You’re right that we collaborate well. And it’s unfair of me to be compliant when we’re being sexual but then refuse to cooperate in other ways.” She leant forwards. “I apologise, Mr Tomlinson.”

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