Work was getting on her nerves. Maggie felt as if she were in the middle of a bad disaster movie with two out of control trains heading for a collision. She drove one train and could see the other coming. Her workmates drove the other train and were clueless. They couldn’t see a thing, but that didn’t stop them speculating.
“Why would someone want a man to spank them?” one of the secretaries asked. “I don’t get it. We’ve spent years trying to gain equality, and this woman…” She trailed off, gesturing with her hands as if words failed her.
Another woman added her thoughts. “It’s like this woman wants to set us all back to a time when women didn’t have the vote and men ruled supreme.”
“Yeah, we’re a progressive country. We’ve had two female prime ministers. New Zealand women were the first in the world to earn the right to vote. Shouldn’t that mean something?”
Maggie gritted her teeth and tried not to listen. She was not deviant. She cared about freedom and the right to vote as much as the next person. It didn’t mean she was taking a step backward. What about freedom of choice?
“Don’t listen to them,” Julia said in a low voice. “Feel like missing lunch tomorrow and doing a spot of shopping instead? I feel like a bit of a splurge. It will cheer us both up.”
“Thanks. I’m having to bite my tongue. It’s hard not being able to defend myself. Shopping sounds great. Where are the others?”
“I don’t know about Connor, but the girls both have special assignments. We probably won’t see them for the rest of the day.”
Maggie nodded, feeling really down. The idea of spending tonight alone sent shudders through her. “Do you fancy having drinks and dinner at my place tonight?”
“Sure. Do you want me to ask the others if I see them?” Julia asked.
“Let’s make it a girl’s only evening then I can whine about my blog,” Maggie said. “Just a little bit, I promise. I won’t go on for longer than an hour.”
Julia laughed. “Make that half an hour of complaining and we have a deal.”
“Done.” Maggie’s tone was smug. “You should have negotiated harder. I would have settled for ten minutes.”
“Well,” Julia said, wrinkling her nose.
“Ah-ah. No renegotiation,” Maggie said, and with a laugh, she left the lunch room feeling better than she had for days. Good friends were worth gold.
After work, she rushed home, going via the supermarket to grab half a dozen bottles of wine, some brie, cheddar and blue cheese, along with two loaves of bread and some hummus. She figured they could order take-out from their favorite Thai restaurant later if the girls decided they needed something more filling.
Maggie changed into jeans and a top that skimmed her upper body, showcasing her curves instead of losing them under acres of baggy material.
The doorbell went when she’d started to organize the snacks.
“Hey,” she said with a grin when her three girlfriends walked in together. “I didn’t think you’d be so early.”
“We can go away again,” Susan said.
“Oh, no you don’t,” Maggie said, gripping Susan’s forearm firmly and propelling her inside. “Julia promised I could have half an hour of non-stop whining about people at work dissing my spanking blog. I intend to utilize every second of my half hour, and you have to listen.”
Christina shook her head. “You’re a bad negotiator, woman. You should have let me do it.”
“I probably shouldn’t tell you Maggie said she would have settled for ten minutes.” Julia grinned. “I’m sorry. I blew it, but I brought a bottle of champagne in penance.” She produced a bottle of Moet.
“Oh, the good French stuff,” Susan said. “I love me some Moet.”
“What’s the occasion?” Christina asked.
The doorbell went, and Maggie frowned. “Don’t tell me that’s Connor. That would spoil everything. I can’t whine with him here.”
“I’ll get the door,” Julia said. “And if it’s him, I’ll send him on his way.”
Maggie nodded and took the champagne to the kitchen. She pulled flutes from the depths of the cupboard and washed them before opening the bottle.
She heard Julia answer the door and the low sounds of a masculine voice. She felt bad about getting Julia to send Connor away, but she couldn’t face him right now. Deep in her heart, she knew she had to call off their friends with benefits deal. Everything had become too complicated. And it wasn’t as if they were communicating that well. She couldn’t even find the guts to tell him what she wanted sexually. Why did she have to pick a man who’d suffered through a topsy-turvy childhood and abuse? It can’t have been much fun watching his father beating his mother. Maggie understood his reluctance to spank anyone. It would bring back bad memories.
“Was Connor okay with us having a girl’s night?” she asked, guilt nipping at her heels. She shoved it away with an ease that made her blink when she realized what she’d done. During the last month, she’d changed, lying without a qualm to suit herself.
“It wasn’t Connor.” Julia handed over a white box bearing courier labels. “Besides, I get the feeling he’s seeing someone. I haven’t seen as much of him recently. I think it’s serious, because he hasn’t mentioned her.”
“Connor serious,” Christina said with a roll of her eyes. “As much as I like Connor he treats women like a buffet, taking whatever appeals to him at the time.”
“Christina, that’s not very nice,” Maggie said, indignant on Connor’s behalf. She placed the box on the countertop. “He has a real gift for ending romantic relationships and remaining friends.” And that was the problem. Her crush had deepened into more. If it weren’t for the spanking thing and Connor’s lack of enthusiasm, she’d never want to say goodbye. He was fun in bed and a giving lover who went out of his way to make sure she enjoyed herself. If only she were blonde.
“You’re right,” Christina said. “I’m tired and cranky after working hard on the special assignment today. And jealous. My sex life is non-existent.”
“What’s in the box?” Susan asked.
“I’ve no idea.” Maggie poured the champagne and handed each of her friends a flute of the bubbly wine.
She grabbed a plate of bread and two of the dips, heading for her small lounge area. After plunking them on the coffee table, she returned for the cheese and a third dip. The women took seats and eased off shoes while she made a final trip to the kitchen to grab the package and her champagne.
In the lounge, she dropped into an empty chair, took a sip of champagne before attacking the tape on the package. “I’m not expecting anything,” she said. “Any guesses?”
“Nope,” Susan said. “I vote for something boring.”
Maggie seconded the guess for something mundane. “It’s probably from my stepmother. She’s learned how to knit this year. Last time I talked to her, she mentioned scarves.” She ripped off the tape and opened the box.
“It’s not a scarf,” Christina said.
“Oh,” said Maggie. “It’s beautiful.” She lifted the black satin and lace confection from the delicate gold tissue paper.
“A corset,” Julia said. “And matching panties.”
Susan leaned closer. “Is there a card?”
It was gorgeous. Beautiful. And her size, she saw when she checked the swing tag. She rifled inside the box and found a small white envelope. A sealed envelope. She glanced up at her friends and saw them watching her with avid curiosity. Swallowing, she looked down at her trembling hands. “I’ll read the card later,” she said, replacing both the corset and the card back into the box. Instinct told her either Connor or Kevin had sent her this gift. Her instincts leaned toward Connor, which meant she couldn’t read the card now. She’d have to wait until later when she was alone.
“You can’t do that,” Susan said in a sharp voice.
“I’ll put this in my bedroom,” she said hurriedly.
“I agree with Susan,” Christina said. “You can’t
leave us hanging like this.”
“It’s…um…private.” Maggie jumped to her feet and hurried from the room, her heart pounding in alarm. Although she was certain her friends wouldn’t stoop to search her room, she removed the card from the box and slipped it into her bra. The cool surface of the envelope sent prickles across her skin, and a flush of shame seeped from her cheeks down her neck.
Maybe it wasn’t from Connor.
She sighed and walked back to join her friends, bracing herself for questions.
“Are you seeing a married man?” Susan asked. “I’ve been meaning to ask about the lover you mention in your blog. Is he married?”
“No! No, of course not,” Maggie said, the color in her cheeks intensifying. How could they think that?
“Oh, God, Maggie. You should see your face,” Julia said.
“Susan’s right. You’ve talked about a lover in a couple of your posts.” Christina peered at her closely. “Who is it?”
“I’m not seeing anyone apart from Kevin. We’ve had dinner once. That’s all.”
“The more you deny it, the worse you’re making it,” Susan said. “You might as well fess up and tell us the truth.”
“Stop picking on me.” Maggie grabbed her champagne and took a slug. The bubbles tickled her nose, and she sneezed. Champagne splashed over the rim of her glass and onto her jeans. “Damn.” She brushed the bottom of her glass with her fingertips to stop further drips. “I am not sleeping with a married man.”
“Too late,” Christina said. “We’re on to you. You know we’re going to worm the info out of you, so you might as well tell us now.”
No way was that ever going to happen. Maggie could imagine what her friends would say if they learned she and Connor were sleeping together. With a trembling hand, she picked up the plate of bread and one of the dips. She offered it to Susan. “Have something to eat.”
“Maggie, honey, I know it’s none of our business, but we love you. Do you think you should do this? I mean, a married man. Does he have kids?” Christina placed a hand on her arm and lightly squeezed. “Have you thought about that? It’s not just you involved here. If the man is married that means there are other people who can be hurt by your actions.”
A tight sensation gripped her chest. They really thought she’d come between a husband and wife? “I refuse to discuss this anymore. Can we change the subject?”
Uncomfortable silence filled the room. Maggie opened her mouth to say something. Anything. Her mind froze and she snapped her mouth shut. Damn, how had she managed to get herself in this position? She snorted inwardly. Simple.
Desire and lust.
Weak will.
Connor had asked, and she’d caved. Yep, no willpower.
She glanced up and caught the tail end of the silent messages flying between her friends. They didn’t believe her.
And the more she argued, the guiltier she appeared. Maggie lifted her glass and offered a toast. “To friends,” she said.
They stared, slow to react to her gesture of friendship. Despite the guilt buffeting her in waves, she maintained a confident smile and met their gazes. She was in too deep now. There was no way she could admit the truth and tell them she’d broken her promise about not becoming involved with Connor.
“I guess you know what you’re doing,” Julia said, raising her glass. “To friends.”
“To friends.” Christina heaved a sigh, the inherent disappointment guaranteed to raise Maggie’s guilt. “Julia’s right. You’re an adult, and this is none of our business.”
Maggie stomped on her words of explanation, her need to babble excuses. “Thanks.” It was all she allowed herself to say in fear her conscience would have her adding unwanted details to raise more questions. Her fault, she thought. Her father would have started muttering about bad genes and foolishness. And he’d probably refer to Penisgate and reporters. Maggie fought horrid, embarrassing memories of the past, shoving them from her mind.
“I’m sorry,” Susan said. “The others are right. We’re your friends and we shouldn’t judge you. But you know we’re here if you need to talk, right?” She lifted her glass and smiled.
Maggie suspected Susan forced her smile, but shoved aside her misgivings and pretended everything was okay between them. Her friend tended to see things in black and white rather than gray, one of her least endearing qualities. “Anyone for more champagne?”
When she reached for the bottle, she felt the envelope tucked inside her bra like a ticking time bomb. She wondered how long her friends intended to stay, how long it would be before she learned who had sent her the sexy and decadent corset.
Julia followed Susan and Christina from Maggie’s apartment. None of them spoke until they reached the street outside.
A cat yowled from the tiny balcony garden above their heads as they walked to Susan’s car. She unlocked the white Mazda, and they all climbed inside.
“I didn’t even realize Maggie was seeing anyone,” Christina said.
“She mentioned it in a couple of her blog posts,” Julia answered.
“I can’t believe she’s sleeping with a married man,” Susan said, starting the car and merging into the traffic. “No matter what the temptation, someone always gets hurt. The only person who wins in a relationship like that is the man. And they might make promises about leaving their wives, but never do.”
Julia reached into her bag and pulled out a lipstick. Using a small portable mirror, she reapplied the deep pink color adorning her mouth. Once finished, she said, “That sounds like the voice of experience. Personally, I’ve always steered clear of married men. More trouble than they’re worth.”
“And sometimes they lie,” Susan said with a trace of bitterness. “Sometimes the first time the women hears the news is when she’s mentioned in divorce proceedings as the other woman.”
“Ouch,” Christina said. “I’m sorry, sweetie. I didn’t realize you’d been through something like that.”
“Yeah, it was a few years ago now, before I moved to Auckland.” Susan pulled up at a red traffic light. “It’s made me wary and very picky, which is probably why I don’t have a steady man in my life. The one experience has turned me into a cynic.”
“So, what are we going to do about Maggie?” Christina asked.
“I’m concerned,” Julia said, “but we’re her friends, not her keepers. She needs to learn from her own mistakes.” Her mouth firmed as she thought about the empty apartment waiting for her. Alone again. Who was she to talk, because her mistakes weren’t teaching her much. “I think we should forget about it and be there for her if she needs us.”
“I don’t like it.” Susan’s voice was grim as she pulled up outside Julia’s apartment. “She’s setting herself up for a fall.”
“We could always follow her,” Christina said. “See where she goes, who she sees?”
“Isn’t that a bit Jane Bondish?” Julia asked. “She’s an adult, and she’s not breaking any laws.”
“Julia’s right,” Susan said. “I think we should leave it alone and let Maggie do things her way. She’ll tell us when she’s ready.”
Chapter Twelve
Maggie let her breath hiss out in weary relief once the girls left. Talk about uncomfortable.
A married man.
Huh! Maggie winced at the insult all over again. Surely they didn’t think so little of her? She’d never willingly come between a man and wife. Never.
She walked into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of wine from the fridge. With a glass of wine in hand, she dropped into her favorite chair, retrieved the envelope from inside her bra and ripped it open.
Connor. The corset was from Connor. A slow smile crept across her lips, and yearning twisted like fast-growing ivy around her heart. Maybe things between them weren’t broken. Three days to wait.
She’d missed him during the last few weeks. The long-legged blondes at the pub… Maggie cut off the thought immediately. She could hardly yell at Connor for slee
ping with someone else when she’d agreed to the terms, agreed to be his fuck buddy. So why did jealousy eat at her? Why did she feel as if he’d rejected her?
An impatient sigh huffed from her, and she wrinkled her nose with a trace of disgust. She knew why, but didn’t want to rehash the past and her romantic failures. The motor vehicle accident and resulting tempest in the papers when she was eighteen had not only caused pain, it had caused extreme embarrassment for both her and her former boyfriend. It had made her realize that all he’d wanted from her was sex. As he’d so cruelly told her during their last meeting, why should he settle for a chubby nobody when his looks and money left him free to choose any woman he wanted? He’d chosen a beautiful blonde model, a woman who was everything Maggie wasn’t. Was it any wonder she held a prejudice against bubbly blondes with long legs and flashing smiles?
Maggie pushed aside the destructive thoughts and decided to blog. Connor had sent her the corset and wanted her to meet him in a hotel. That didn’t sound like rejection. Besides, the way he’d phrased the note, couching it as an order rather than a request, made her sizzling hot all over, her pussy aching and empty. Roll on Friday evening.
I think about my first spanking often, wondering what it will be like and how it will affect me. I wonder if I’ll hate it and want to forget about spanking for the rest of my life. When I start to wonder, I worry. What if I’ve made a big hullabaloo about nothing?
I’ve mentioned before the amount of reading and research I’ve done. Each couple is different, and I’ve stressed the most important thing between a consenting couple is good communication.
It surprised me to discover a good spanking experience is a learned skill. People in the spanking world say not to expect too much at first. Spanking should be good for both partners. Yes, I know all the theory, but it’s going to be difficult if my lover hates spanking and I love it or vice versa. I don’t believe spanking is the first step into the heavier BDSM scene, because I’ve learned many couples never go any further than spanking. This is enough for them. It’s not even necessary to assume dominant and submissive roles, although I believe I’ll feel happier and derive more pleasure from receiving the spanking. My lover doesn’t seem the submissive sort and that’s fine with me. What I want is the closeness that comes afterward, the freedom to let myself go and give my lover the responsibility for our pleasure.
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