The Bottom Line

by Shelley Munro

  “Wake up, babe. We’re at my apartment.”

  “Sorry. I must have fallen asleep.” Self-consciously, she stretched and fumbled for the seatbelt. “I didn’t snore, did I?”

  “Yeah, you did. The cutest little sound.”

  “You’re making that up.”

  “You’ll never know, will you?” Connor brushed the tip of her nose with his finger. “Come on. We’ll get you in the shower before you fall asleep again.”

  Maggie climbed out the vehicle, grimacing and mumbling under her breath about running and people who should know better. “I wanted a bath. Don’t you have a bath?”

  “I never said I had a bath,” Connor corrected. “I said I have something better. Come on, limpy-gimpy. Let’s get you inside.”

  “If you think you’re gonna get lucky tonight, you’d better rethink your plans,” Maggie snapped. Damn, it hurt to walk. She was never going to run again. Only stupid people ran. Fools and idiots.

  “I’m not a complete moron.” Connor’s face darkened, and she hurriedly looked away, biting her bottom lip in consternation. Even her conscience was working against her, trying to do the right thing and push him away.

  Without another word he led her into his apartment. His roommates weren’t home, although Maggie smelled curry spices and noticed a basketball and a sweatshirt tossed over the back of a chair. At least one of his roommates had been here recently.

  Connor chucked his keys on the countertop and shunted her down the passage to the small bathroom. Reaching in, he flipped on the tap and waited until the water ran hot.

  “Get in and warm up,” he said, leaving her alone.

  Maggie shrugged out of her clothes, wincing and groaning when she lifted her legs to remove her pantyhose. Horrid things. Maybe she’d try stockings—some of those thigh-high ones that didn’t require a garter belt. Leaving her clothes in a heap on the floor, she pulled back the shower curtain and stepped inside. For long moments, she stood there, soaking in the heat.

  With a sigh, she reached for the soap and cleansed her body, driving out the last of the chill caused by the winter winds that had swirled across the city of Auckland today.

  “All done?” Connor asked.

  Maggie turned off the shower and stepped out, shivering when the cold air hit her wet skin.

  “Feel better?”

  “Not really.” Maggie wished she’d followed her instincts and gone home.

  Connor approached her with a large blue towel and started to dry her briskly.

  “I can do it,” she protested, trying to grab the towel.

  “Of course you can,” he said, resisting. “But I want to do it for you.”

  Once he’d dried her, he led her to his bedroom. While she’d been in the shower, he’d closed the curtains and drawn back the blankets on the bed. Only one bedside lamp lit the room, shadows playing across walls when they entered.

  “Lie face down on the bed,” he said, pulling the towel away from her body.

  “Why?” A sharp note entered her voice as she grabbed for the towel. Fatigue weighed her down, and once again, she kicked herself for letting him bring her here.

  “I’m not going to hurt you. I have some massage oil to help with your sore muscles. I’m going to rub it on for you. That’s all.”

  “Oh. Okay,” she said, slivers of guilt nipping at her. She’d sounded distinctly bitchy. Way to go, Maggie. Drive him away. That will make you happy and appease your guilty conscience at the same time.

  She stretched out on her back in the middle of the bed. “The fronts of my legs are really bad. Could you do them first?” Thank goodness for the scanty light. Although he’d seen her naked, she felt vulnerable in an unclothed state. She snorted quietly. And wasn’t that great? Imagine a woman who wanted her ass smacked and yet she didn’t want to show her boyfriend her naked butt. A few contradictions there, that was for sure.

  To her relief, Connor smiled, unperturbed by her grumpiness.

  He reached for a small glass bottle. “Your wish is my command.” Unscrewing the cap of the bottle, he poured some of the contents into his palm before setting it aside. He rubbed his palms together before joining her on the bed.

  Lavender, sandalwood and an herby scent she couldn’t indentify filled the room.

  “It might be a little cold at first,” he warned, straddling her legs.

  She winced at his first touch, but the oil quickly warmed as he rubbed it on her right thigh. His fingers glided smoothly over tense muscles, rubbing with gradually increasing pressure, a combination of kneading and feathering strokes that felt good after the initial pain. He moved up and down her legs and gradually, Maggie relaxed, letting her eyes close to savor his magic touch.

  “I’m going to stop to get some more oil,” he said, his voice husky.

  “Okay.” He could do anything he liked if only he continued touching her with those magic fingers.

  The mattress shifted when he moved, depressing again when he returned. He massaged her calves and feet before moving up her legs again. She expected him to tell her to turn over but he started to massage the rest of her body, moving slightly and parting her legs. His fingers stroked across her inner thighs and slipped closer to her labia, skimming near enough for the massage to take a distinct turning into sexual territory.

  Then he moved, his hands gliding across her hips, her waist. Taking his time he worked up her body. Although disappointed in the direction of his massage, she wasn’t about to tell him to stop when it felt so good. Already her sore muscles were a dim memory. Maggie breathed slowly, enjoying the rich tang of the massage oil and the soft sound of Connor’s steady breathing.

  He stopped to get more oil and worked it into her breasts. He circled them, gradually working closer and closer to her nipples. With a finger and thumb, he stroked them, tugging slightly in a manner that sent a bungee cord of pleasure to her pussy.

  “Does that feel good?”

  “Really good,” she purred.

  Gradually, he released the pleasure and worked upward, stroking her shoulders and rubbing in the oil until she felt like a puddle and pleasure skimmed her body along with his touch.

  “Turn over for me, Maggie.”

  Her eyes flew open.

  “May as well do the job properly, babe.”

  She turned over, grinning into the pillows, despite a sliver of unease. Maybe Connor would get lucky tonight. Need pulsed through her. Although her muscles felt loose and limber, other parts of her were decidedly tense. When he straddled her body again, she felt the heavy weight of his erection. Her grin widened. Looked like they would both enjoy themselves tonight.

  Connor started with her shoulders, nimble fingers rubbing, stroking and feathering her flesh until her mind wandered in blissful relaxation. Gradually he moved down her body, his talented hands working closer to her butt in all its naked glory. What would he do if she asked him to give her a swat or two?

  Her breath caught, arousal unfurling inside as her imagination took flight. She chewed her bottom lip, trying not to tense up and undo his good work.

  Connor stroked her shoulders, letting his thumbs press into her muscles, his fingers glided over her smooth flesh. He liked touching her like this. Having the freedom to touch without restraint or worrying about anyone else noticing.

  His hands drifted downward, lightening his touch when he skimmed over her lower back working her upper glutes. Her backside was curvy. Rounded. Uncharitable people might call it plump, but he liked the way Maggie looked. He pressed his fingers into the muscles, his mind drifting to spanking. Maybe he could give her an experimental swat or two at the end of the massage.

  The last time he’d given her a swat had made for great sex. Hot sex. But no matter how much he rationalized spanking in his mind, told himself it was something she wanted, he hesitated. He couldn’t reconcile the idea of pain and sex—good sex—together.

  Yeah, he’d read Maggie’s blog posts, he’d done a little research on the Internet. H
ell, he’d even swallowed his embarrassment and talked to his mother and Frank. It might have been easier if he could have talked to Maggie about spanking, but he couldn’t tell her he knew about the blog and her inner desires when Julia had sworn him to secrecy.

  And, as far as he knew, Maggie hadn’t actually experienced spanking in person. Thinking about doing and actually doing it were two different things. What would happen if he spanked her and she hated it? What would happen if their relationship changed because of the spanking?

  Mind in turmoil, he carried on massaging her on automatic pilot. He skipped down to her thighs and calves, paying close attention to the muscles used most in running.

  “You’re very good at that,” she mumbled.

  “I’m good at a lot of things.”

  “Like what?”

  “Is that doubt I hear in your voice?” he asked. “Because I’m telling the truth. I have lots of hidden talents.”

  “Tell me.”

  Connor laughed. “Where’s the fun in that?” He ran his fingers up the back of one thigh, his hand coming to rest on her butt. “You need to find them on your own.”

  “I think you’re blowing smoke.”

  “But I’m good at massage. I have you purring like a kitten.”

  “That’s true,” she murmured. “You have magic fingers.”

  “And I make you hot.” She made him hot. Connor tried to ignore his rising need for her, but the tight jeans were crowding his cock.

  “Also true.”

  Satisfaction filled him at her admission. He wanted her to need him, as much as he needed her. For the first time in years, he hadn’t even looked at another woman or started to get uneasy in a relationship. He didn’t want out. “I told you this would work between us.”

  “It does, but I don’t like keeping secrets.”

  “We could tell the others—”

  “No,” Maggie said immediately, her raised voice echoing with finality. “I don’t want them to look at us differently or speculate about when we’ll breakup. I don’t want to explain our arrangement.”

  Connor frowned. “Are you ashamed of being with me?”

  “No, of course not.” Maggie turned to look him in the face. “I like being with you.”

  Connor gave a swift nod, although her reply didn’t reassure him. “Turn back on your stomach. I’ll finish your other leg.”

  She followed his instructions, placing her face in her arms and relaxing. Being with Maggie was what he wanted, but it was a minefield trying to keep everything straight. He hated the dishonesty. Tangled bloody webs and juggling balls. Connor snorted and feathered strokes across her hamstrings, working his way back up to her glutes.

  “Finished,” he said, staring at her backside. Do it. Give her a quick swat. It’s what she wants. Before he could think a second longer, he lifted his hand and gave her a half-hearted slap across her buttocks. “All done.” He stared, trying to measure her reaction. Pity he couldn’t see her face. “How do you feel?”

  “Good.”

  “My massage skills must be lacking if it was only good.”

  She turned over, a broad grin on her face. “One problem. Your massage skills are clearly superior, but I don’t feel relaxed.” Her lids lowered and she ran her tongue across the sweep of her bottom lip. “I feel…” She paused again, teasing lighting her eyes. “…incredibly horny.”

  Horny? Hell, worked for him. Connor climbed off the bed and shrugged out of his shirt. He unfastened the button on his jeans and slid down the zipper. The low whine sounded loud in the quiet room. He pushed his jeans and boxer-briefs down over his hips and grabbed a condom.

  “Let me put it on for you.”

  Connor shrugged and handed it over. He watched her while she ripped open the foil packet.

  “Come here.” She patted the bed beside her. “Lie down.”

  “Are you seducing me, Ms. Drummond?”

  Maggie let out an unfeminine snort. “Look at the state of you. You’re easy.”

  “I wasn’t the one who admitted they were horny.”

  “True.” She fumbled slightly when she rolled the condom onto his erection. The tiny flash of uncertainty and nerves charmed him. Made him relax. “It’s all your fault.”

  He placed his hands under his head and watched her, enjoying the sway of her breasts.

  “You know you’ve turned me into a breast-man,” he said. “I used to think I was a leg-man. I was wrong. Your breasts do it for me.”

  “Ah, thanks, I think.” With the condom rolled onto his cock, she seemed to hesitate. “Stop staring at me.”

  “Why? It was a compliment. I find you very attractive. Sexy.”

  “Here’s the thing. Most women don’t like their bodies or there are things they’d like to change about them. I try to like my body. I really do. It’s just that it’s not always easy. Some men take pleasure in tearing a woman down, telling her she’s too fat or needs to exercise more.”

  “I’m not one of those men.”

  “I know you’re not. Even when you dragged me off to the gym or when you told me I should try running, you never made me feel as if I should exercise. It was a suggestion. You were being my friend.”

  Friend. Wow, that stung. “I always feel better after a workout. I thought you would too.” Connor studied her expression and jumped to a conclusion. “Did Greg tell you to lose weight?” His voice emerged in a low growl.

  “Once or twice.”

  “You did a good thing when you told him to take a hike.”

  Maggie nodded. “I think so, but I don’t want to talk about him when we’re both naked.”

  “And alone,” he added.

  “Exactly.”

  “Babe, I’m all yours. Do whatever you want.”

  “I…” Confusion flooded her face and she started to chew on her bottom lip again. That must hurt after a while. He grinned inside, guessing her problem. Yes, she touched him when they made love but normally he gave her orders or took charge. His offer had surprised her.

  “Go on. It’s your chance to discover what I like.”

  Her gaze darted to his cock and he laughed.

  “Good start, babe.”

  A cheeky grin bloomed and he stared, smitten by attraction. Lust. Need. Damn, he wanted her.

  “Where should I touch you first?” Maggie leaned over him and kissed his neck, his chest. Her mouth was hot and wet on his skin, her eyes heavy-lidded when she paused to stare at him. She clambered over his body, lifted up and pushed down again, taking his shaft inside her. Heat. Hot pressure. Slowly, she worked him into her pussy, looking like a siren with her hair swinging around her shoulders, her cheeks faintly pink and the sway of her breasts.

  “Damn it, woman. Are you trying to kill me? Move faster.”

  “This was your idea,” she countered, continuing at the same slow pace.

  “Two can play at that game,” he said.

  Rising up again, she tossed her head. “I don’t play games.”

  She didn’t either. A fact he both liked and appreciated.

  Maggie paused. “I’ve never been able to come like this. What am I doing wrong?”

  “I can touch you or you could touch yourself.” Why the hell couldn’t she ask him about spanking like that? Straight out. He’d never laugh at anything she said or treat her like an idiot. “We’ll experiment until we get it right.”

  Intense concentration marred the smoothness of her brow. She rose and fell getting into a rhythm.

  “Try changing the angle,” he suggested, hoping like hell he could hold off long enough for her to experiment.

  She twisted and squirmed and slipped the fingers of one hand between her legs. Her head fell back and soft, needy sounds emerged. Connor didn’t think she’d ever looked more beautiful.

  He reached up and stroked one breast, using a bit more pressure when his fingers trailed over the tip. “Feel good?”

  “Yes,” she said, moving quicker, her eyes fluttering shut.


  Connor watched the play of emotions over her face. If she thought he intended to let her go easily, she could think again. Now that he’d made love to her, spent time with her, he was more convinced than ever that they had a future. He started to move with her, knowing she was close now. Releasing control, he allowed the heat and pressure to rampage through him as they slid together with exquisite friction. He pinched one distended nipple, flexed his hips.

  Without warning she cried out, convulsing around his cock. She stilled and the clawing tension burst inside him. His cock jerked with explosive contractions, blistering waves of pleasure and satisfaction taking him. He tugged her into his arms and held her, luxuriating in the aftershocks and the feel of a soft curvy woman in his arms. His curvy woman.

  Somehow he had to show Maggie her heart was safe with him. He’d hold all her secrets close and nurture her dreams. All she needed to do was trust him.

  Chapter Nine

  Greg studied the group of friends as he passed the lunch room. It looked like they were studying the gossip pages probably discussing the latest scandal to hit parliament. A politician found in bed with a married woman. At least Maggie had the sense to feel embarrassment because her cheeks glowed and she fidgeted with discomfort. Greg made a scoffing sound. He had no idea why Maggie spent so much time with the bunch of losers. None of them had any ambition. Granted Connor Grey had brains. The head of the IT department held him in high regard, but the man was a womanizer. He had a different woman on his arm every time Greg saw him.

  Greg continued along the passage to his office, ignoring the traces of envy curling through him. The leggy blondes who spent time with Connor never gave him a second glance.

  And as for the three women. Julia acted like a slut—the female version of Connor. Greg didn’t know the other two very well, since he tended to steer clear of them in the work environment. They were both secretaries and his accounting assistants dealt with that side of his work.

  What was he going to do about Maggie?

  She refused to talk to him at work, wouldn’t take his calls at home. The answer phone was getting a workout, and he’d given up leaving messages.