Mastered: Ten Tales of Sensual Surrender

by Opal Carew

  Maggie longed to have someone to trust, to fill her emotional and physical needs and validate her sense as a woman. For so long she’d tried dating men who turned out to be all wrong, and those mistakes triggered a fear that she’d never find someone special. She had looks but no great wealth, and someday her looks would fade. Most men didn’t take her seriously because of her blond hair and dream to be an artist. Even in this day and age, stereotypes remained. For all that men complimented her face and form, she had yet to find a significant other.

  “…so then he flipped me over, and I’m all out of breath, and he—”

  The front door opened, cutting Shelby off mid-sentence. Shane walked in and stopped short at seeing them both lolling on the floor with a bottle of wine between them. He stared hard at Shelby, who wore a pair of tights and a tank without her bra. Then he blinked at Maggie, who wore her favorite ripped jeans and a soft, holey tee-shirt.

  “Please tell me I didn’t miss any girl-on-girl action.”

  Shelby laughed so hard she knocked the empty bottle over.

  Maggie got to her feet with the grace of a three-legged goat. She nearly tripped before Shane steadied her. “And this is why I kept my bra on.”

  He stared, open-mouthed, but said nothing. The looks he kept giving Shelby spoke for him, however.

  “Okay, you two.” Maggie sighed. “I don’t think I can drive home. So I’ll be in the guest room. Please, no loud noises while you’re getting it on. Have pity on me.” So saying, she teetered her way to the bathroom, took care of business, and then found the bed in the guest room.

  After three tries, she shimmied out of her bra and jeans but kept her shirt on for modesty’s sake. Though to be fair, Shane wouldn’t care. He only had eyes for Shelby. Man, her friend was lucky.

  Before she knew it, her eyes had closed and she snuggled under the comforter. She smiled as a vision of Mac, wearing no more than a pair of his own ripped jean shorts, entertained her throughout the night.

  And into the morning.

  Maggie woke the next day with a pounding headache and a vague sense she needed to be somewhere. On a groan, she rolled onto her back and blinked as a stream of bright sunlight hit her eye. Thankfully, a large body blocked out most of the sun and gave her a moment to focus.

  Mac Jameson stared down at her with an intense look on his face.

  She blinked up at him. “Shouldn’t your shorts be ripped?” Still not sure if she was awake or asleep, Maggie grazed Mac’s thigh and felt cotton under her hands. “Sweatpants? What happened to the jean shorts?”

  Mac’s lips curled into a grin. “Jean shorts? This sounds good.”

  Maggie realized the dream had come and gone. This Mac was real.

  Quickly sitting up, she made sure to keep the cover over her lower half.

  His gaze lowered to her chest, and his smile widened. “I really missed a party, didn’t I? Saw a wine bottle and drink mix in the kitchen. The clean police are still sound asleep, and there’s a gorgeous blond in my room.”

  “Um, your room?”

  He licked his lips and returned his gaze to hers. When she saw the heat melting the blue ice of his eyes, she froze. “Yeah. When I visit, I get the guest room.”

  “In Shane’s house maybe. But this is Shelby’s.” The pair had decided to keep separate residences until they made the big move to share a home. Maggie figured they’d eventually move into Shane’s house because he had more space.

  “Her house, his house. What’s his is mine. Sort of.” Mac ran a callused finger over her cheek, and Maggie found it hard to breathe.

  His gaze returned to her chest and lingered. “You are really turning me on.”

  Stupidly, she stared at his crotch, not surprised to see him hard and growing behind the sweats. “Y-you…ah…”

  “Yep. Hard as a rock, just like those pretty nipples.” Mac’s husky voice snapped her out of her daze. He could see her nipples through her tee-shirt because she’d taken off her bra last night.

  He returned his gaze to her face and slowly ran his finger down her jaw to her neck and lower. He continued to trail his finger over her collar bone, to the upper swell of her breast, and down. He rested his finger over her nipple for a moment, and she swore butterflies swarmed in her belly and sent a notice to flood her sex. “I can’t wait to suck these.”

  And she wanted him to suck, to tease, to lick.

  So much for a life of celibacy.

  Behind him, the sun turned brighter and illuminated the poster on the wall. Of Shelby’s guest room.

  Maggie jerked back and crossed her arms over her chest—what she should have done the second she spotted Mac standing over her. “Wh-what are you doing here?”

  He sighed and sat next to her on the bed.

  She squeaked, but before she could scoot away, he gripped her leg through the cover.

  “Wait. I’m not going to attack you, okay? I need a minute to cool down.” His wry look down at his lap brought a rush of heat to her cheeks. “I came by to get a few books I’d lent Shane. He told me to stop by this morning and grab them. I didn’t realize he was taking this whole relationship thing to heart though. Shelby has turned him into a new man.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “He’s sleeping in. It’s ten on a Saturday morning, and Mr. Type A is still in bed.” Mac looked mystified. “She must have given it to him good last night.” The speculative gaze he settled on Maggie and the bra hanging over the bedpost spoke volumes.

  “Cut it out.” She reached for the bra but couldn’t grab it without him letting go of her leg.

  “Let me.” He reached and took the bra from the post, sliding his fingers over the silken cups. “So soft and pretty.”

  She grabbed it from his hand and snuck it under the sheets, feeling both embarrassed and turned on. Confusion battled with lust in her mind, and she didn’t know whether to attack him or pray that he leave. Then the time registered.

  “Did you say ten o’clock?”

  He nodded.

  “Oh my God. The gallery!” Maggie shot out of the bed with her bra and grabbed her jeans, ignoring Mac’s wolf whistle.

  She raced into the bathroom and hurriedly donned her clothing. Running out into the living room, she said a quick goodbye to a grumpy Shelby and laughing Shane in the kitchen. Thankfully Mac remained out of sight.

  Ten o’clock, and she had an hour to dress, clean up, and get to work. As she rushed, her body continued to tingle in funny places, refusing to let her forget Mac’s touch. Talk about a hell of a start to her weekend.

  Chapter Three

  A hell of a way to start his weekend.

  Mac heard Shane and Shelby moving in the house and needed to get a handle on his cock. Or better yet, have Maggie get a handle on it. Good Christ, but the woman was a walking wet dream. Seeing her amazing breasts, her nipples straining though that soft cotton tee-shirt, had been heaven and hell in the same breath. Then to watch her shoot from the bed, to see those toned legs and that tight ass set off by lace panties?

  Hell. He worked to regulate his body and relax. Sporting a hard-on while he shared breakfast with his buddy and Shelby probably wouldn’t get him invited over again anytime soon. But fuck if he’d be able to see Maggie again without remembering her in bed.

  Bad enough he saw her every day in those tight workout clothes. But the blond bombshell in a tee-shirt and panties trumped anything she’d worn the entire time he’d known her.

  And those thoughts did nothing to help him calm his raging lust.

  After internally reviewing his weekend schedule and recalling the choice words his uncle had tossed his way after hearing from Wilson “The Jerk” Hussman, Mac finally had a hold of his sex drive.

  He walked out and met Shane and Shelby in the kitchen. The pair were kissing and laughing, and Mac felt good seeing them. Shelby had looks, gorgeous curves, and hands from heaven. The woman could crush a rock with her strong fingers, but it was her generous heart and soft spot for Shane
that had convinced Mac she was just what Shane needed.

  “Cut it out,” Mac complained. “Or was I invited over for a show? I came for the eggs, but I’ll stay for the entertainment.”

  “Shut up.” Shane flipped him off and laughingly disengaged from his girlfriend.

  “I saw Maggie.”

  Shelby smiled like a cat considering a bowl of cream. “Did you now?”

  “Yep. Freaked her the hell out too. She darted out of the house like her hair was on fire.”

  Shelby blinked and checked the time on the clock. “Oh boy. She’ll be lucky to make it to work on time. Too many margaritas last night.”

  “She never talks about the gallery.” A perfect opening, Mac thought, to pump Shelby for information. “She’s an artist, right? What does she do, exactly?”

  Shelby left the kitchen and returned moments later with a framed piece of art she handed him. “She makes paper.”

  “Uh, what?” He stared at the piece, intrigued by the patterns and variation of texture and color. It was kind of pretty, in an artsy kind of way.

  “Paper. Not the kind you write on, dumb ass,” Shane answered. “It’s art. Paper is her medium.”

  “Right, Mr. High Brow.” He shook his head and handed the frame back to Shelby. “Since when are you so into art?”

  “Since Shelby made me see what Maggie does. It’s pretty cool, actually. She has a paper press and inks. Dyes her stuff and creates real art. She also does some amazing watercolors. I didn’t realize she was into all that stuff. I’ve only seen her prancing around in tights at the gym.”

  Shelby glared at him. “Shane.”

  “Sorry. It’s his bad influence.” He pointed to Mac.

  “True.” Mac grinned, smiling wider when Shelby sighed. “So why do you suppose Maggie won’t give me the time of day? She comes in to work, does her job, and leaves. I’m lucky if I get a frown half the time.”

  Shelby looked uncomfortable.

  “Come on. I’m not going to hurt her. I just want a date. That’s it.” He had to get this craving for the woman out of his mind.

  “Please.” Shane snorted. “Like that’s all you want.”

  “Shut up, dickhead.” If Shane ruined his shot at Maggie, Mac would clock him. He turned back to Shelby and put on his most charming expression. “Look, I know what you probably think of me. But I’m not as bad as Shane would have you believe.”

  “He’s worse,” Shane muttered.

  “I’ve dated a lot of women, I admit. But I was open. I never cheated on any of them. I can’t help it if I haven’t met the right woman yet. I mean, you think it’s hard weeding through the losers? Try being a guy. I’m expected to hold the door, but if I do, some woman yells at me for being a chauvinist. I compliment a woman on her looks, and I’m supposedly leering. When I don’t look at her breasts, I’m gay.”

  Shane choked on the sip of coffee he’d just taken. “Who called you gay?”

  “Hetty Leeson.”

  Shane laughed. “That woman is seventy years old.”

  “And pissed I won’t take out her granddaughter.” To Shelby, he explained, “Hetty lives next door to my uncle. She’s constantly on me to go out with her granddaughter.”

  “In Mac’s defense, Anna Leeson looks like she was hit with the ugly stick. A lot.”

  Shelby bit her lip. “That’s not nice, Shane.”

  Mac added, “She’s too skinny, and her attitude could use some work. Woman is a bi—ah, a witch. She’s constantly on my uncle about his dog, and the damn thing barely barks or moves. In dog years, Buster is the same age as my uncle. Like Uncle Ian’s really going to get rid of it because Hetty doesn’t like pets? He’s had the dog for eight years.”

  “Oh. Well then.” Shelby nodded. “Don’t go out with the granddaughter.”

  “Right.” Mac had her. “I should find someone nicer. Someone caring and kind who values the same things I do. A healthy lifestyle. Eating right. Safe sex, or in Maggie’s case, no sex.”

  Shelby frowned. “What?”

  Mac ignored Shane frantically shaking his head behind her. “I’m not having sex either. A clean slate, you could call it. I figured it’s time I stopped messing around and tried to find someone real.” To screw like no tomorrow. “I mean, you two seem happy. So I figured I’d cut out the unnecessary sex and focus on just one woman. If she’ll give me a chance.” Total bullshit, because who the hell thought sex was unnecessary? But he’d told the truth about not getting any. Ever since he’d first seen Maggie, he didn’t want anyone else. The woman seriously screwed with his love life. In a bad way. He figured the sooner he had her, the sooner he could move on.

  Shane slumped.

  Shelby turned on him. “You told him about Maggie? That was said in confidence.”

  “Sorry, honey. I forgot.”

  Mac did his best not to laugh. “I’m not going to say anything. Hell, Shelby. Who am I gonna tell? It’s not like I’m getting any action either.”

  “Yeah, right.” She didn’t look like she believed him. Shit.

  Shane spoke up, still glaring at Mac. “Actually, that’s true. The guy hasn’t been with a woman in months, far as I can tell. Not that I keep tabs on him, but he seems to be fixated on Maggie.”

  “I wouldn’t say fixated on her. I just like her. What’s so wrong about her and me going on a date?” He couldn’t eat, sleep, or work without thinking about Maggie Doran. Time he found out what it was about her that messed with his mind so he could get her out of his system. But he’d do it the right way. They’d date like real people, have some mind-blowing sex, then move on. No mess, no fuss. And he could breathe again without wondering what the petite blond was up to all the time.

  “You can’t screw around with her,” Shelby warned. She put her hands on her hips and stared him down like the Amazon Shane often compared her to. “She’s a nice person.”

  “I know that. Hell, I’m a nice person. Why do you assume she’ll be the one hurt if we go out? Maybe she’ll break my heart.” He turned to Shane. “What the hell have you been telling her about me?”

  “Other than the truth?” Shane shrugged. “Personally, I think you and Maggie would make a great couple. But no way in hell am I playing cupid.”

  Shelby glared at him before turning back to Mac, “I like you, Jameson. I’ll help you. But I’m warning you. You hurt her, I’ll rip your knee off and shove it up your ass.”

  Impressed, Mac grinned. “Is that the therapist or Maggie’s best friend talking?”

  “Both. Deal with it.”

  “No problem. Now how do I get Maggie to go out with me?”

  “With that woman? You don’t give her a chance to say no.”

  Nine hours later, Mac waited in Maggie’s apartment, grateful Shelby had taken pity on him and let him inside. He’d worked on appearing pathetic for days, had practiced what he’d say to get Shelby’s help, and despite Shane’s advice to find another way to get to Maggie, he’d scored.

  Now he just had to work the magic that had successfully won over the hearts and bodies of the many women he’d dated. Problem was, he’d been trying for months with Maggie, and she didn’t seem to appreciate his charm.

  He resolved to take a few of Shelby’s hints to heart. Maggie liked a dominant personality. All her exes had been dicks. They either treated her like crap or were too weak to handle her. Maggie might be pint-sized—she came up the middle of his chest—but the woman had balls bigger than most men he knew. He wondered if he could push her boundaries in the bedroom.

  Most of the woman he’d slept with hadn’t been into the rougher stuff. And not wanting to scare any of them, he held himself back when he’d sensed their limits. But Maggie was different. Would she like him taking charge in bed? Being tied up, fucked hard, ordered around?

  One could only hope.

  With a sigh, he told himself to take things one step at a time. First, build some trust. No fucking until he’d gotten to know her better and showed her she could dep
end on him. She knew him from the gym, so he hoped she had some idea he wasn’t a complete prick. Well, not all the time.

  He stood up from the small loveseat he’d been sitting on and absorbed the feel of her place, taken with her vivid colors and artistic expression. Her small apartment suited her. Located in Queen Anne just a few blocks from the gallery where she worked, the small two bedroom unit was a gem, an old Victorian converted into two apartments. Maggie had the left half of the home, which boasted a cozy fireplace and old hardwood floors. In the living room, she’d positioned a loveseat and reading chair to face a television too small to be considered a distraction. Magazines and romance novels filled her built-in bookcase in the living room. Behind the couch, she’d fashioned a dining room with an antique table and four chairs. Tiny but cozy.

  She didn’t have a lot of knickknacks, but the artwork on her walls livened the place. He wasn’t an artsy guy, but he liked her taste in decorating. Another plus to the woman.

  He walked down the hallway leading past a powder room and into the larger of the two bedrooms. Her bedroom smelled like lavender and looked like a bomb had hit it. Her bed was unmade and clothes and shoes covered the floor. He grinned, realizing she must have been frantic to get to work on time. Mac spotted her lace bra on the floor and shuddered. He really wanted to see her in that, and soon.

  He refrained from going through her closet and drawers, not wanting to be a creepy stalker-type. As it was, he’d have to do some fancy talking to convince her not to freak out and call the cops on him when she returned. But since Shelby had let him in, he figured he had an edge on the law.

  He wandered into the kitchen, pleased to see she kept this room neat as a pin. No dirty dishes or food littered the counters. The small area stood apart from the living room by a narrow counter that had stools under it on the living room side. The open design gave the space an inviting grandness. That and the sunny butter color on the walls.