The Bottom Line

by Shelley Munro

  As one, her three friends stared at her, varying degrees of interest showing in their faces.

  “It’s just us,” Christina said in a mild voice. “We’re your friends. We’re not going to judge you.”

  “I find it hard to talk about. Susan, you don’t like talking about your ex-fiancé, and Christina, you never talk about that married man you dated. It’s the same thing.” And wasn’t that the truth. Maggie hadn’t found either the words or the time to tell Connor what she wanted. Part of it was fear and the other part was Greg’s astounded reaction still ringing in her ears. Ever since Connor had dropped her at her flat, doubts had set in like a plague. She offered her friends a weak smile. “I’m sorry. Give me time, okay?”

  Julia patted her hand. “Of course we will.”

  “Take all the time you need,” Susan added.

  “Not too long,” Julia said. “I’m dying here.”

  Connor appeared, grabbing the seat they’d saved for him in the lunch room. He tweaked Julia’s nose. “Curiosity killed the cat, you know.” He grinned at them all. “What did I miss?”

  Maggie didn’t know how he did it. Not a flicker of guilt crossed his face.

  “Maggie won’t tell us what she did in the weekend,” Susan said. “She says she needed time alone to think.”

  Connor smirked. “Looks like our girl saw some sun. Her nose is sun burnt. Did you burn anywhere interesting?”

  “Only the sheets.” Aghast, Maggie clapped her hand over her mouth, eyes widening in shock. Her heart beat out three distinct thumps before stalling. It only started racing again when she dragged in a harsh breath.

  Connor’s eyes glinted with real amusement and his mouth curled into an evil grin. “Our girl got some. Good for you. Don’t say Greg—”

  “Where were you this weekend?” an irate voice demanded.

  Maggie’s stomach swooped to her toes. She closed her eyes. Perhaps if she couldn’t see him he’d go away.

  “Maggie, I’m talking to you.” Greg grasped her shoulder and shook her. Her head jerked back and forward with the force of his shake before she jerked from his touch.

  “I went to the beach,” Maggie said.

  “There’s no need to rough her up,” Connor snapped.

  “Leave her alone,” Julia hissed. “Can’t you see you’re hurting her?”

  “Sorry,” Greg said in a stiff voice. “I wasn’t thinking. I wouldn’t hurt you for the world. I was worried. You didn’t answer your phone and you weren’t at your flat when I went around.”

  Maggie clasped her sweaty palms in her lap, struggling for inner calm. Could this day get any worse? “We can’t talk now. People are staring.”

  “You’re right,” Greg said. “I have a client appointment in five minutes. I’ll come around to your flat after work.” With that, he strode away, leaving the lunch room.

  Mortified by his outburst, Maggie glanced at her friends to check their reactions.

  “He can’t go around treating you like that,” Christina said.

  “I agree. You need to break things off with him,” Julia said.

  “I have,” Maggie said. “After our date on Saturday night. That’s why I went to the beach for some alone time. I need to tell him again.”

  “Why didn’t you ring one of us?” Susan demanded.

  “I want to know about the sheets,” Connor said, his evil grin back in evidence. “Whose sheets did you burn?”

  Maggie’s mouth dropped open. She snapped it shut.

  “I’m with Connor. I want to know about the sheets. If you weren’t with Greg, who were you with?”

  Now she’d done it. Her mouth flapped open and closed again. She picked up her coffee for something to do with her hands. They shook and she hurriedly set the mug back on the table.

  “I don’t want to talk about it. What did you do for the weekend?”

  “I washed my hair,” Julia said. “But we’re talking about you.”

  “What beach did you go to?” Susan said.

  “Yeah, I spent most of the weekend at the beach,” Connor said.

  “I thought you and Gwen were finished,” Susan said. “Who did you take and how did you find a replacement so quickly?”

  “There are more fish in the sea,” Connor said smoothly. His eyes glinted, and Maggie stiffened waiting to see what he’d say next. She thought she might quite possibly kill him the next time they were alone together.

  “What beach did you go to, Maggie?” he asked.

  Killing was too good for him. She’d put itching powder in his sexy black boxer-briefs.

  “I went to Maraetai beach,” she lied through gritted teeth.

  “That would be why I didn’t see you,” Connor said. “I went to Port Waikato.”

  “Do you surf?” Susan asked. “I’d love to learn.”

  “I can surf, but I haven’t done it for a while.”

  “Good. You can teach me,” Susan ordered.

  Connor saluted. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “I want to know about Maggie,” Julia said, neatly turning everyone’s attention back to her.

  “I’m not telling,” Maggie said primly. “Look at the time. I need to get back to work.” She stood, her chair scraping across the hardwood floor. With a wave, she started for the door.

  “You can run but you can’t hide.” Susan’s singsong voice stopped Maggie in her tracks. Slowly, she turned to face her friends.

  “I’m not hiding anything.”

  Connor winked at her and Maggie groaned inwardly. He, more than anyone, knew she had secrets. The wretch. As she strode down the hall to her cubicle, her mind grappled with a way to get her revenge on Connor. Payback was a bitch, as he’d soon learn.

  Connor found it difficult to concentrate on work. It had been bad enough during the morning but after seeing Maggie in her blushing confusion his mind rejected any work-connected thoughts in order to playback their weekend together. Hot. The woman had his heart. She just didn’t know it.

  A tap on his door heralded Julia’s arrival. When Connor looked closely, he noticed circles of fatigue under her eyes. Somehow he didn’t think she’d had a weekend full of sex. She didn’t glow like Maggie. She looked…sad.

  “You okay, sweetheart?”

  Julia sat on one of the two chairs facing his desk. “I’m fine. Just a bit tired.” She tossed her head. “I’m worried about Maggie. Did you see the hickey on her neck? If she’s not sleeping with Greg, then who did she spend the weekend with? I’d hate someone to take advantage of her.”

  The satisfaction Connor had felt on seeing his mark on Maggie died with Julia’s words. He wasn’t taking advantage of her. They’d had a bloody good time together. It was a mutual thing between them. He hadn’t pressured her. She’d agreed to go with him.

  “She’s a big girl. I’m sure she knows what she’s doing.”

  Julia frowned. “You don’t think she’d pick up someone so she could get into spanking, do you?”

  Not if he had anything to do with it. “We’ll have to make sure she doesn’t.”

  “How? How are we going to do that? She’s an adult. We can’t make her do anything.”

  “We all make mistakes,” Connor said slowly. Julia had made him aware of a few problems he hadn’t considered. Spanking. He hadn’t known how to approach the subject with her, and since, she hadn’t said anything, he’d remained silent too. “Maybe we should research this spanking thing,” he said. “Let Maggie know we support her.”

  “You can’t let her know that we told you,” Julia said. “She’ll never tell us anything if she knows we broke our word.”

  “Damn.” An open approach was out for him. He’d have to research on his own.

  “I like your idea, though,” Julia said. “The more we know, the better we can help her. Help keep her safe.”

  “We’ll have to compare notes when she’s not with us,” Connor said.

  “All right.”

  “And next time you girls go to the pub for marga
ritas make sure I’m there too.”

  “You ready to hear about blue pubic hair?” Julia asked with a smart-ass grin.

  Connor’s attention jerked from his computer screen to Julia. “Blue?” he said in a faint voice.

  “That’s what I thought.” Julia stood to leave.

  “Wait, you can’t leave without giving me details. Who has blue pubic hair?”

  Julia laughed and tapped her nose. “For me to know and you to find out.”

  “Hell, I’m going to have to make Friday night drinks,” he said. “I’m missing out on all the good stuff.”

  Maggie hadn’t intended to blog about Connor until he’d teased her. She was still considering the itching powder in his boxers, but this would do until then.

  How do you tell someone you’re into kinky sex, that you want them to spank you?

  Today I’m feeling a bit like the columnist from Sex and the City. I hooked up with a guy in the weekend. I know him a little bit, but not well. And yes, our relationship is casual. The sex was great. Hot. Blazing hot. The best I’ve had for some time. But all the time we were together, I kept thinking about spanking. I wanted to ask him to spank me. At one stage he swatted me lightly on the butt. Just a teasing sort of thing. It made me so hot I almost came immediately. I wanted more but didn’t know how to ask.

  So my question is how do you communicate your spanking needs? And what do you do if the idea of spanking horrifies your partner? What do you do if your partner thinks you’re a deviant?

  The buzz of Maggie’s doorbell dragged her away from her blogging. It was two minutes after six and she remembered Greg saying he was going to drop by. The sound of a key in her front door made her hurriedly sign off her blog. She logged off the Internet as she heard footsteps.

  “Maggie, are you here?”

  A flash of irritation made her scowl. What didn’t Greg understand about over? Sighing, she rose and went to meet him. She had to get her key back from Greg.

  “There you are,” he said. “Why didn’t you answer me?”

  “I finished sending an email.” The lie slipped out without a qualm. Maybe if she practiced a bit she wouldn’t have such a bad time lying to her friends. Practice made perfect. “Would you like a drink? I’m about to have a glass of wine.”

  “You shouldn’t drink alone,” Greg said.

  “If you have a glass of wine with me I won’t be alone.” His pompous attitude made her more determined to finish the relationship.

  “What is wrong with you? You never used to be so snappy and sarcastic.”

  “Because you didn’t used to treat me like a belonging.” She had to get her key back before Greg left so he couldn’t enter her apartment again without her permission.

  Greg raked his hand through his hair, leaving the blond curls messy and making him appear more approachable. “Hell, I’m sorry. It’s just you’re acting a bit strangely and it threw me. I didn’t mean to hurt you this morning.”

  Maggie didn’t reply. She padded into the kitchen and opened the fridge to grab the bottle of Sauvignon Blanc she’d opened the previous night after Connor dropped her off. She poured two glasses and handed one to Greg.

  “I wanted to ask if you’d attend the partner dinner with me,” Greg said, taking a seat opposite her on the two-seater.

  Maggie stared at him in shock. “But we’re not going out together.” She stood. “I think you’d better leave.”

  “But we haven’t talked,” Greg said. “And what do you mean we’re not going out together. I didn’t agree. I left to give you time to think.”

  “I don’t want to go out with you again. We’re finished. Give me your key and leave.”

  “I don’t—you’re making a big mistake.” He set his glass down hard on the wooden coffee table and stalked to the doorway.

  “My key?”

  With a glare, he retrieved it from his pocket and threw it at her. The slam of her apartment door told her he’d finally left.

  Reaction set in and her legs trembled so much she had to sit on the nearest chair. He hadn’t mentioned the spanking part of their previous conversation, which worried her. What would happen if he told everyone at work? She’d hoped he’d keep quiet because the subject had been so distasteful to him. Damn, when had her life become so complicated with lies and half-truths?

  Taking her wine with her, she returned to her computer. She waited while the computer started and loaded the Internet. There were no comments so she decided to do some research. Surely she couldn’t be the only novice interested in spanking?

  The doorbell went again. Maggie huffed out an impatient breath. The melodious sound repeated, and she realized she’d have to answer. She peered through the peep hole, suspecting it would be Greg again.

  “Connor.”

  Maggie opened the door and stood aside for him to enter. “I shouldn’t talk to you.”

  He grinned. “Maybe I don’t want to talk.”

  “What if Julia or one of the others decide to pop in for a visit?” A shudder of horror sent an icy chill speeding down her spine. This was a dangerous game they were playing. She shut the door and retreated to the kitchen, automatically pulling out a beer for him.

  “Don’t worry.” Connor closed the distance between, took the beer and put it on the bench. Then he grasped her hands. “I wouldn’t do anything to upset you.” He tugged her closer and wrapped his arms around her.

  With a soft sigh of surrender, she leaned into him, shuddering when his hands slipped down her back to rest on her butt. Her mind slid into a quick, dirty daydream. A bared bottom. A wooden hairbrush.

  A hand cupped her butt cheek, squeezing, building the anticipation simmering through her. Heat suffused her entire body and her folds moistened, the thoughts of spanking an erotic assault on her mind. The tension inside her amplified and a soft, needy sound emerged from deep in her throat.

  The hand caressing her bottom stilled.

  “Are you okay? Am I hurting you?”

  Oh, heck. How embarrassing. How did she fix this? Admit her desires? Even as she opened her mouth she knew she was going to take the coward’s way and say nothing. “I was thinking about the weekend,” she whispered, words tumbling over each other she spoke so quickly. Anything to fill the pause. If the silence lasted any longer it would become uncomfortable. It would sound as if she was hiding something. She was but that was beside the point. “It was…amazing.” An understatement. Amazing didn’t come close to describing how great it had been between them, not only the lovemaking but the way she and Connor talked. They’d missed the awkward getting-to-know each other phase because they’d already done that.

  “It was great,” Connor said, his blue eyes sparkling.

  She liked to think it was with remembered pleasure, but it could have been the angle of the light.

  “That’s part of the reason I came around. I wanted to be with you again.” He lifted one hand off her ass and caressed her cheek. Their gazes met and looking at him made her knees wobble. He was with her. The weekend hadn’t been a once off as part of her feared. He wanted to repeat their lovemaking and really meant the friends with benefits thing. The thought hit her with the strength of a sucker punch.

  “It can’t be here,” Maggie said. “The girls drop in all the time, usually unannounced.”

  “We can meet at my apartment. You’re the only one who has ever visited me there. I can’t see that changing. What do you say?” He interspersed each word with a kiss to a different part of her face.

  Her lips parted in silent invitation. They were alone. There was no reason they couldn’t kiss and touch. They were adults. Things wouldn’t get out of hand.

  Connor tugged her blouse from the plain black skirt she still wore—her work clothes. Simple. No-nonsense. Conservative. His hand wandered over her warm skin, his fingers callused slightly, although the sensation wasn’t unpleasant. The faint drag stirred desire and awakened her hunger even further.

  “Are you ticklish?” His word
s were muffled against her throat.

  “No, not really.”

  “So I can’t tease or torture you that way.”

  “No.” He could drive her crazy with lust though. “Are you? Ticklish, I mean.”

  “Afraid not.” His hand traced across her rib cage, constructing a sensual bubble around them.

  Connor took such care with her, made her feel treasured and desired. The contrasts with her previous lovers brought the realization she’d allowed them to shortchange her, allowed them to take what they wanted from her without demanding equal time for herself.

  “Touch my breasts,” she suggested.

  “My thoughts exactly. That was next on my to-do list.”

  Maggie spluttered in half laughter and half disbelief. “You don’t have a to-do list.”

  “Don’t I? How do you know?” His mouth closed over her earlobe, the faint play of teeth sending messages of pure delight skittering through her. Then he peeled back one bra cup and stroked her puckered nipple with the back of his hand. One finger ran around her nipple and around again. His finger diverted to stroke the small bruise he’d left on the upper curve of her breast during the weekend.

  “I like seeing my mark on you,” he said.

  Maggie shuddered, her head falling back, eyes squeezing shut while she greedily gathered sensations to recall later when she was alone. His fingers rolled her nipple before tugging lightly. The sensation grew until it was almost painful, but it was a good pain. It echoed in her pussy, a short jolt of desire.

  “Connor.”

  “Do you like that? A little bit of pain in your loving?”

  “I don’t know.” Her eyes flicked open. “I like that, so I must. Does that make me weird?” Her heart beat rapidly while she waited for his reply. She scanned his face and didn’t see any disgust. She didn’t see anything except intense interest. Desire.

  “You’re not weird.” He laughed. “What would you say if I said I’d like to shave your pubic hair so you’re nice and soft? So you’d feel every flicker of my tongue, every stroke of my fingers. Would that make me weird?”

  Maggie thought about that for two seconds. “Yes,” she breathed, unbearably turned on by the request.