“Really?” she felt like she needed another glass of champagne, but he caught her eyes glancing at the bottle and filled her flute for her. “You're full of surprises today, aren't you?”
Chuckling, he rolled his own eyes at himself. “You have no idea what’s in store…”
Any fear that fluttered over her dissipated quickly. She had to prod a little deeper. “So you're not in search of one-night-stands?”
“I wouldn’t be here with you now if I were that kind of man,” he reminded her. “But I will say that your virginity is…a bit sobering for me.”
Maxine wasn’t sure whether she should be flattered or angry, but she appreciated his candor. “Why does it scare you so much? I mean…you’re certainly a competent teacher.”
“Maxine…I…”
Entwining their fingers, she held on to his hand and refused to let it go. “Drew, I'd like to know what's on your mind this afternoon.”
Running his fingers through his hair, Drew looked away for a moment. When he turned to face her again, ominous clouds raged in his eyes, directing Maxine to run for shelter. However, she sat very still, refusing to falter.
“Maxine, I'm very—fond—of you,” he began, his voice almost tender—contradicting the foreboding look upon his face. “Obviously, I'm attracted to you, or I wouldn't be spending my entire weekend pursuing you.”
“Keep talking, Drew,” she said. “I'm listening.”
“I have a bit of a different perspective on relationships and romance,” he continued. “In fact, I want to be brutally honest with you this afternoon. Traditional relationships aren’t my cup of tea.”
Drawing a deep breath into her lungs, Maxine murmured, “Then why the lavish dates, Drew? Why the gifts?”
“Because there's something about you, Maxine Kirk,” he said very simply, “and I can't seem to get you out of my head.”
Now Maxine twisted in her spot upon the blanket, avoiding his cautious gaze. She wanted to know everything about him, but in that, she also feared she’d lose him before he was ever in a position to call her own.
“Maxine, I have an unconventional side,” he warned. “I need to be in absolute control at all times—of my work, of my personal life...” He stopped once again and closed his eyes, silently admitting that he couldn't look at her as he continued. “...of my sexuality...”
“In short,” he said at last, and framed her face with his long, thin hands, “I need a woman who will submit to me—and accept that submission on all levels. Do you understand what I'm saying?”
Maxine's sigh shook her entire body. She understood, but she didn't. She wanted to appear as a true woman of the world and assure him that she was game for anything...but too many questions raged inside her thoughts.
“You mean...” she spoke at last, “you want...a slave?”
He smiled and shook his head. “Not exactly, but I do have some exceedingly high standards. I consider it a Dominant/submissive relationship.”
To some degree, Maxine did understand the concept. She knew there were complexities to be discussed here, but she didn't like the fact that he made any sort of relationship they might embark upon seem somewhat cold and distant.
All the while, however, she couldn't ignore her curiosity over his proposition.
“I wouldn't expect you to give up on your career,” he said. “I know that's extremely important to you. And I wouldn't dare intrude on your family time or things of that nature. But I would keep tabs on you at all times, Maxine. I'll need to know who you're with, what you're doing—when you're eating. And I'll expect you to be ready to explore my brand of sexuality. It's kinky. And it could be frightening for a novice. But I'd be willing to start slowly—train you, if you will—until you build a trust in me...”
“Drew, I—” she sputtered. “I just don't know what to—”
He placed his finger over her lips. “I don't expect an answer today,” he said, “but I do want you to hear me out, Maxine. And I want to explain a few things to you to help you make that decision.” He searched her face for any hint of interest, but her blank look of shock left him feeling defeated. “Will you at least do that for me?”
Her iron will collapsed under the heaviness of his plea. Damn you, Rasputin McKenzie, she thought as she dropped her head in one slow, lingering, affirmative nod. “Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, Drew.”
Reaching for her hand with obvious trepidation, Drew wavered for a moment, then said, “I know I've given you a lot to think about—and there's much more to come. I just don't want to string you along with promises I know I'm not capable of keeping,” he said, pulsing her fingers with his own. “Right now, let's take a short break and enjoy this afternoon. We'll talk later on today. I promise you.”
He noticed Maxine looking at the grapes, then turning her head away in disgust.
“Eat, Maxine,” he said. “You know that makes me insane when you refuse food.”
“Drew, I'm not hungry right now,” she said. She didn't want to waste time snacking and chatting. She wanted to know more—to know every last detail of this...proposal. And she wanted to know immediately.
“You have an issue with eating, Maxine,” he told her. “And we will discuss that, too, at length. Because quite frankly, it worries me. But I’ll let it slide for right now.”
Her cheeks enflamed with chagrin as he lectured her on her mealtime habits. The truth always hurt the most, though, and she couldn’t deny his words.
“Meanwhile, I'm happy to force feed,” he coaxed a tiny smile to her lips, then plucked another grape and held it to her open mouth. “Now open up...or I'm going to get angry. And believe me, little one...you won't like me when I'm angry.”
Chapter Thirteen
Drew did his best to distract Maxine and kept the conversation light throughout the rest of their Sunday afternoon picnic in Central Park. However, while he chose to focus their idle chitchat on Maxine's new life in the city, she couldn't shake the thoughts of their earlier conversation from her mind.
Admittedly, she knew little about this so-called lifestyle, and she understood even less of this proposal he'd suggested. Fear consumed her as images of whips and chains—and whatever other implements he used behind closed doors—flashed through her mind. However, there was a pang of unstoppable inquisitiveness rising within that Maxine just couldn't ignore.
Throughout her entire life, Maxine had managed to create a safe little world. She was that quintessential “good girl” on whom people relied—her parents, teachers, acquaintances. She never felt the need to offer any showmanship for attention. She lived her life on the straight and narrow, holding her focus and patience. Now this sudden curve-ball tossed into her lap left her wondering about life outside that little box she'd carefully built around herself.
Perhaps, she reasoned, the lure of the unknown was so tempting. Maxine wasn't one to step outside her meticulously laid boundaries. This darkness into which Drew invited her stirred her imagination.
Certainly, there was an obvious magnetism between them. In fact, Drew admitted as much himself. He awakened thoughts and feelings within Maxine to which once she'd considered herself immune. He could elicit a gnawing hunger with the most delicate brush of his fingertip...and bring her to her knees with a single soul-destroying kiss. She couldn't walk away from this burgeoning passion so quickly...
...or could she?
Begrudgingly, while her thoughts ran wild, Maxine sampled the selection of fine foods and tried her best to lead Drew to believe that she was actively participating in their chatter—and their meal. She smiled. She laughed. She moved herself through the motions, all the while awaiting his next revelation.
It was around two-thirty when Drew finally suggested they pack up their lunch. Again, she hated the thought of leaving him, but she also needed some time to think. What troubled her, though, was that she wasn’t even sure if she could discuss Drew’s proposition with Ben, and he was the most open-minded soul she knew. Suddenly, for the fir
st time since she’d stepped off the bus, Maxine felt so very alone.
Settled back into the car, Drew caressed the top of her hand. “Maxine, I'd like to take you back to my place right now,” he said, gauging her reaction.
“You said you had more to tell me,” she said. “If you're willing to talk—to open up to me—I'll go.”
“That's all I want from you right now—to talk,” he clarified, reassuring her. Covering her hand with his, he lifted it to his lips and kissed her fingers so sweetly, one by one. “I promise you, I will tell you as much as you need to know. About what I’m looking for…and…and a bit about my past.”
She could feel her upper body tremble as she pulled a ragged breath into her lungs. Lou waited in the front seat so patiently for his next order of direction. Glancing over at Drew from the corner of her eye, she realized that if she didn’t take her chances with him now, she might not ever have that opportunity again.
“Let's go then,” she agreed at last.
# # #
The lobby of Drew’s apartment building filled Maxine with a sense of surprise. Although lavishly appointed with fine French antiques, chandeliers and heavy silk fabrics, the building itself was rather non-descript, tucked into the street between two other buildings. He preferred the intimacy and the security of living somewhere less commercial. As he reminded her again and again, he took his privacy very seriously in the public world in which he lived.
And now, as the afternoon continued to unravel, Maxine had begun to figure out why.
With a nod of formality, Drew greeted his doorman. As he led her past the elevators, he turned quickly to Maxine as he continued his quick stride. “There's a separate bank that will take us straight up to the penthouse,” he explained.
As the elevator climbed a little too slowly to the thirty-fifth floor for Maxine’s tastes, she found her impatience rising. She just so desperately wanted to make it through that afternoon.
Once they’d finally stepped inside the front door, Maxine’s jaw dropped in absolute awe. She felt as if she were on some movie set. Certainly, real, everyday people didn’t live like this in Manhattan.
Drew's tastes were much more modern than her classical sense of home design. The foyer and the great room beyond it were decorated in black and white with bursts of red. Pop art from Warhol, Haring, Basquiat and others covered the stark white walls. Now it made sense to Maxine why he’d quizzed her on her tastes in fine art. If there was any clutter, it was in the gallery of family photos that dotted nearly every surface. Narrowing in on her gaze, she caught glimpses of his parents and brother, all smiles. She’d recognized their faces from photos on his website. Sparingly, he’d scattered kitschy trinkets from his travels about the globe—an Eiffel Tower, a ceramic Tower of Pisa, even a pewter mock-up of the St. Louis Arch. In the center of it all, a huge black leather sectional flanked the area surrounding the fireplace with its wall of slate tiles that climbed to the heights of the ceiling.
“Welcome, Maxine,” he said, motioning for her to take a seat on the couch. “What can I get you? Wine? More champagne?”
“No, thank you, Drew,” she said. His presence alone played havoc with her ability to rationalize. She certainly didn't want to add another drop of alcohol to that concoction.
Maxine just looked around, absorbing herself in this rare glimpse into the private life of Drew McKenzie. Everything was clean. Simple. And chilly. With traces of warmth. Just like the look she'd seen so many times in that beautiful and haunting gaze.
The floor-to-ceiling windows opened onto a grand terrace that boasted views of both the city and the water. Drew caught her wandering eyes.
“Would you like to sit outside?” he suggested. “It’s still warm this afternoon…”
“That would be lovely,” she said and allowed him to take her hand in his.
“I just moved in two months ago,” he rambled in explanation. “I've still got some work to do—but this is exactly why I didn't squander my money when I was younger. Now that things seem to be falling into place with my career, I can sit back and appreciate this home. My mother insists it needs a woman's touch, though…”
Perhaps that was why he was auditioning her for the role of his…girlfriend…lover? He needed someone to mind those affairs in his life that no man could dare to undertake on his own…while still wielding his whip. However, she cleared her mind. She had to hear him out. And she needed to rely on rationality.
It seemed that everything Drew laid his hands on was pointedly construed to impress in one way or another, and the outdoor living room clearly beheld all of those intentions in mind. There was a second fireplace of stacked stone surrounded by a cozy seating area that featured a teak dais covered with cream colored overstuffed cushions. The dining area seated at least a dozen people, and a small garden of fresh vegetables and herbs lined the perimeter. All of his private splendor overlooked the surrounding buildings, the park and the Hudson River. She wondered how often he entertained, and pondered who might have been on his guest lists.
Staring out at the city, with late afternoon slowly fading into evening, Maxine found herself lost in the myths of Manhattan once again.
She could hear the gentle intake of his breath as Drew stepped up behind her and settled his hands on her shoulders. “Not quite the same as the view from the Empire State Building, but it'll do for now...” he murmured against her ear.
“You know, Drew,” she turned around and smiled at him, “you could have saved a lot of money and just brought me here...”
“Ah, but it's a memory, little one,” he said. “And a good one. On pleasant evenings, I’m happy to spend.”
“Yes, it was indeed,” Maxine agreed, wondering if there would be more to come—or if he’d send her packing right back to the Upper East Side.
“Have a seat,” he directed her suddenly to the dais. “I'll be back in a few minutes.”
Back to business, Maxine thought as she slumped down on the thick cushion and grabbed a pillow for some comfort. His tender moments were too few and far between. It was only a little after three in the afternoon, but she was exhausted, drained of all energy in her fight to keep up with the rise and fall of his moods. Perhaps, she thought, she should rethink that glass of wine.
When Drew returned with a bottle of Merlot and two glasses, Maxine remained convinced that he could indeed read her mind. He took a seat next to her and left little space between them, then swung his arm around the back of the couch, barely touching her.
“So, Maxine, here we are...” he said, carefully twisting a stray strand of her hair around his finger. “Now some people do this with paperwork, but I’m not that kinda guy. I think some serious conversation goes much further than legal documents filled with jibber-jabber...”
“L-legal documents?” she stammered. “Is there something illegal about what you're about to suggest?”
“No, little one,” he feathered his fingers through his hair once again and chuckled softly. She'd never felt so young and naïve in her life—yet so damn alive. She was also quite frightened, and Drew recognized those inhibitions immediately. Pulling her closer, he kissed the top of her head. She needed his calm. “You're so green to all of this. I need to remind myself to have some patience with you—to make sure you're properly taken care of at all times and all costs.”
Somehow his words always had a way with Maxine’s senses, and she squirmed a little in his embrace—not in fear, but in anticipation.
Drew’s chest expanded significantly with the breath of absolute irritation that he pulled into his lungs. “Oh, you are so impatient,” he said, pointing a finger in her face, “That, my darling, is grounds for punishment herein, if you choose to stick around. Got it?”
She nodded but ever so slowly dragged her tongue over her mouth in her effort to tease a bit.
“And you'll answer me properly when I ask you a question,” he added. “Now do you understand the consequences?”
“Yes,” she said, w
orking up to her best only child pout.
“Yes, Sir,” he corrected.
“Yes,” she repeated, her breathing wavering with his orders, “Sir...”
“Good girl...”
Those two words, she decided were both the reward...and quite possibly her undoing as well. True to herself, she adored praise, although she usually took it with a humble air. With Drew, however, she found so much fun in the game of pride. He wouldn't allow her to settle with one single emotion for very long.
Soft and sweet again, he returned to the subject at hand. “You know, I’ve been testing you,” he said, prompting her sudden movement to look up at him with confusion cluttering her green-eyed gaze.
“Testing?”
“Just now, prompting you. Baiting you, if you will.”
“But…how?”
“As I said, there are standards of behavior that I’ll expect you to adhere, and so far, you’ve been doing quite marvelously,” he commended. “Think back to Friday night—when I asked you to get down on your knees and to pick up your clothes. You obeyed. And you enjoyed yourself.”
“Uh…OK…”
“You did enjoy it, didn’t you?”
Burrowing her face against his shoulder, she knew she couldn't lie. “Mmmhmm…Sir…”
“See, it’s so easy for you, Maxine,” he praised. “You’ve already begun to embrace submission, and soon, you might even tolerate pain…”
“Pain…” she repeated. His strength could hurt her. Now was the time to ask all questions that crossed her thoughts. “What if I agree to this...and I'm injured?”
“I'll take the greatest caution not to harm you,” he said, “And on the odd chance that would happen, I'll make certain you have the greatest care available. I have a doctor friend who is...quite discreet.”
She was satisfied with his answer, but she wasn't about to stop there. “Have you ever hurt anyone before?”
Maxine’s eyes watched him closely as he winced. “Only once, little one,” he admitted. “Not long after I got into this lifestyle. Foolishly, I used a silk ribbon for bondage purposes...the knot slipped...she ended up bumping her head...”
WEAKENED: The Manhattan Bound Series Book One Page 16
