He stood up, taking his glass of wine with him, and began to pace aimlessly around the massive room, leaving Maxine alone on the couch. However, she didn't feel the least bit rejected by his reaction. In fact, she wanted to burst into a collapsing fit of giggles. For the first time, Maxine realized that he was positively flustered.
Struggling to stand, she pushed herself up from her comfortable spot on the sofa and crossed the room to where Drew continued his stroll along the wall of windows. All the while, she maintained a short distance between them to eliminate her temptation to touch him.
The thought crossed her mind that maybe he wanted her to leave, but there was something so frantic about his behavior that made her want to stay and comfort him. However, she knew that he'd thwart any efforts she made at consolation.
“So, Maxine,” he said at last, shattering the deafening silence that had fallen between them as he beckoned her closer, “we should probably make some plans for this week.”
“Sure,” she said so very simply, “if you‘re not too busy.”
“For you,” he said, and took her hands in his, “I’ll make the time.”
“You’re the Native here. And I’m open to suggestions.”
“Oh, little one, I know you are…”
Giving his fingers just a hint of a squeeze, Maxine said, “I should probably get home—I have a research project I need to get working on...” She didn’t want to leave, but she simply couldn’t stay. She had far too much on her mind to sort through, and too much to do, lest she miss her first deadline. Time was of the greatest essence.
“So you do...” His thumb traced her knuckle. “I hope you enjoyed today—and I hope I didn’t scare you away for good.”
Maxine shook her head. “Not yet...”
Drew pulled in an exasperated breath, then released her hands. “Keep an open mind tonight, Maxine,” he said. “Promise me....”
“I promise you that, Drew.”
“I’m sure I’ll see you at some point tomorrow,” he began, “but for now, I’ll have Lou take you home.”
“I can get a cab...”
“No, Maxine, Lou will drive you to your door,” he insisted. “E-mail me tonight—by eleven. I want a full report.”
“Will do,” she said.
“Thank you again, little one, for another fantastic day...” His lips quickly pecked her temple.
“No,” she smiled, “thank you, Kind Sir.”
Chapter Fifteen
Time ticked rapidly away as Maxine’s fingers slipped over the touch screen of her iPad, racing against the proverbial clock as she tapped at the letters “B,” “D,” “S” and “M.” Ben had rushed out that evening for some last-minute meeting at the high school, and she was thankful for some alone time to complete her homework within the confines of her cozy little bedroom.
While she’d attempted to shrug off her earlier conundrum, the despair that was so evident in Drew’s eyes just hours earlier continued to haunt her. He could be so calculating, even downright crass at times, yet once he released his grasp on the darkness that seemed to overshadow his every move, he was charming and witty and all consumed with concern. There was something so tortuous lingering in his life, and her heart swelled with pity over the demons he'd attempted to bury beneath his imperious persona.
That afternoon, though, brought forth a torrent of feelings she hadn’t anticipated. Before, she could only imagine the tortuous nightmares through which he’d suffered as a child. As he’d recounted with such brevity just an inkling of what he’d endured, Maxine felt her heart shattering in the grim reality of his life. On the surface, everything was so very perfect and grand, yet beneath that bright white smile and congenial persona lived a monster in his soul.
With a sigh, she knew there was nothing she could do for the moment and refocused her attention back to the matter at hand. Drew had a way of keeping her busy even when they were apart.
While waiting for the page to load, Maxine scrambled to remember the vocabulary Drew so freely tossed around that afternoon. Negotiations. Safewords. Kink. Dungeon. She wondered if she could cheat a little on her research and just download a copy of BDSM for Dummies—if that even existed. Certainly, she hoped, he didn’t expect her to become an expert in one evening...
“Oh...” she said, her lips forming one perfect circle as she dared to click on the images, “...shit!”
Laughing at her own naiveté, Maxine never imagined that the Internet was quite so explicit. Most of the time, she just hung out on her favorite theater blogs, arguing over musicals with like-minded folks from across the globe. Clearly, she had sheltered herself.
Searching for sex online on a Sunday evening was something that never—ever—crossed her mind. Until she met Drew.
Reaching for her bottle of beer on her nightstand, she settled back on her downy pillows, balancing her iPad on her knees, and set out to take some serious notes.
# # #
“Hey, Max!” Ben’s voice called out later that evening, throttling Maxine’s attention from the blur of dirty words on the tiny screen before her. “You here?”
Panic overwhelmed her. She could feel her heart thundering in her chest. He couldn't come in just yet. “No, no, no!” she whispered, rapidly closing out of websites and racing to cover up her research project.
Then came a knock at the door. “Captain? Are you alone?”
Finally, she’d closed every last page that her filthy little fingers had opened and cheerfully called out, “Come on in! Coast is clear!”
But the clock was ticking. It was already ten-thirty. She had to e-mail Drew—or he’d issue her first punishment before he even bothered to take her virginity!
Flopping down on her bed, Ben kicked off his sneakers, then turned to Maxine, his Liz Taylor lavender eyes batting. He usually wore those contacts when he was on the make. Must have been someone on staff whom he was scoping out at his meeting for a rendezvous.
“Did he fuck you yet?”
“You are awful,” Maxine spat and swatted him with her pillow. “You know, maybe some men are actually still into courtship and romance these days before they…”
“Before they force your legs open and split you in two with that huge penis of his…”
“You are sometimes so very ugly, Ben…”
“I am desperate,” he began, “to find out what that hunk of man is like in bed!”
Oh, if you only knew what I know, she thought. “You both tend to leave me speechless.”
Rubbing her bare leg, he had to hear more. Ben wasn’t one to allow Maxine to dismiss him so easily. “Where’d he take you? What did you do?”
“We had a lovely little picnic in Central Park…and then…”
“Then…?” Ben leaned in closer, raising his eyebrows in mischievous rapid succession. “Talk to Uncle Benjy.”
“We went back to his place and had a glass of wine on the terrace of his new penthouse.”
“Dude! You saw the inside of his penthouse! Oh. Em. Gee! This is getting serious!” he said and smacked himself in the head. “You must tell all. What did it look like? What did it smell like?”
Ten minutes and counting and there was no sign of Ben preparing to leave.
“Listen, I have a rather urgent e-mail that I need to send,” she said with no other choice than to shove him out the door. “As soon as I'm finished, you can come back in, and I'll tell you all about it.”
“Why can’t I stay?”
“Because I need to concentrate. Now shoo!”
Before he was even out the door, her fingers raced over the screen. She would call herself lucky if she met her deadline.
FROM: Maxine Kirk
TO: Drew McKenzie
SUBJECT: Research
DATE: September 14, 2014, 11:01 PM
Dear Drew,
First off, thank you for your hospitality once again this afternoon. You certainly know how to plan the perfect picnic.
As promised, I’ve been compiling my
research. I now understand the intent behind safeword usage, the underlying principle of hard and soft limits, the importance of negotiation and the difference between Top and bottom.
However, Kind Sir, I do have some concerns.
A Google Image search returned countless pages of photos featuring contortions and contraptions, cables and...those cages of which you spoke! While you have done an extraordinary job of assuring me that I ultimately have the final say in negotiation, I find it important to note that none of the women in the photos looked remotely happy—let alone sexually aroused.
From there, I turned to the Wikipedia entry for this matter as a guide. Much to my gratitude, the photos were a softer core of porn than the previous set. While I found both the dictionary of terms and the equipment list enlightening, the discussions of “parties” and multiple partners filled me with disgust.
If I may, Kind Sir, I would like to discuss those points in regard to hard limits, should we take this conversation further.
I may also have some specific questions about toys, which, until two hours ago, I had assumed were merely objects designed to occupy children.
Your tutelage will be most appreciated should we move forward in this arrangement.
I hope this brief rundown of my initial thoughts will satisfy my research project for this evening. I shall close for now as I believe I have had one too many “endorphin rushes” for one day.
Frightened, but not quite Forlorn,
MK
By the time she'd finished the e-mail and hit send, Maxine, wallowing in chagrin, realized that her first foray into porn and kink had actually kindled a bit of desire.
“Ben—you can come back now!” she shouted from her bed.
“Tell me, tell me, tell me,” he slid across the floor in his socked feet and dove back into bed with her. “Did you make out?”
Her blush gave her away. She couldn’t lie to him. “Oh, yes.”
“Was he hard?”
“What do you think?” she retorted.
When that now familiar chime rang, her fingers rushed to open her e-mail.
FROM: Drew McKenzie
TO: Maxine Kirk
SUBJECT: Today/Google Images
DATE: September 14, 2014, 11:29 PM
Dear Frightened,
You should be. Your e-mail arrived exactly one minute past my deadline. We shall, however, deal with your indiscretion at a later time.
I, too, had a wonderful time with you today, Maxine. Even more, I’m thrilled that you didn’t run away.
First, I’d like to commend you for taking your assignment so seriously. Your efforts have pleased me, and I will be happy to discuss any questions you may have in the coming days—and thereafter, should we both decide to stay and play.
I'm also delighted that you, in spite of those painful photos and talk of orgies, have composed such a thoughtful e-mail. Again, Maxine, please be assured that you will be in control at all times, and I will start slowly with your introduction to this lifestyle.
As for multiple partners, you have nothing to worry about. If you so choose to submit to me, I can be a jealous man. I refuse to share you with anyone. Period.
Also, you’ve catered to my own inner-child with your curiosity over toys. I’m more than happy to spoil you with playthings. Perhaps we’ll even set up your own monogrammed toy chest in the spare room for you.
My only hope is that you’ll keep an open mind if we move forward. Some suggestions that make you cringe right now may bring you great pleasure in the future.
Now please rest up, as we’ve had a very long weekend. Don’t stay up all night reading The Story of O, but please do consider that your next homework assignment.
Sweet Dreams,
Drew
P.S. I will see you tomorrow.
Oh, damn you, Rasputin, Maxine screamed inside. She could have easily stayed up all night, e-mailing back and forth with this playful side of Drew’s multi-faceted personality.
With Ben in her bed, there was no chance that she’d have that opportunity that evening. However, she wanted to send Drew one last note before he turned in for the night.
“Oh, come on, Captain!” Ben shouted. “You are not sending another before you tell me all…”
However, Ben’s request fell upon Maxine’s deaf ears.
FROM: Maxine Kirk
TO: Drew McKenzie
SUBJECT: Sweet Dreams Are Made of This....
DATE: September 14, 2014, 11:45 PM
Kind Sir,
Thank you for your prompt response and attention to all of my concerns. I do apologize for the minute delay, and I hope you will accept my sincerest regrets in my error.
You have alleviated several of my concerns, and I’m looking forward to further discussions with you about the aforementioned matters.
I’m also looking forward to seeing you on the morrow.
Too wired to be tired,
MK
P.S. When shall I report on The Story of O?
“OK. My guess is that you’re e-mailing with Drew,” Ben said. “Gig is up. What’s going on?”
“Nothing!” she insisted.
“If he popped my little Captain’s cherry, and she’s not telling me, I’m going to be very angry with her…”
Sitting straight up in her little tank and yoga pants, she spread her legs wide. “Why don’t you have a look for yourself!”
“Ewwww!” Pulling himself into the fetal position, he began to shake. “That’s disgusting! I don’t wanna see!”
“Then get out of here!” she said. “I think I need to get some sleep.”
“You don’t even have to work tomorrow!” he insisted. “Living out your final week of leisure with Drew McKenzie in his penthouse. Where he refuses to fuck you because he’s just a nice guy.”
With a wave good-bye, she said, “Sweet dreams, Ben.”
When she didn’t receive a response right away, she’d just assumed that Drew had gone to sleep and decided that she should probably make an effort to do the same. O could wait until the morning after Ben left for work.
She slipped along to the bathroom to brush her teeth, and smiled a wide-mouthed grin at herself in the mirror. Perhaps Drew was making her happy. Perplexed by his vacillating manners...but happy.
Upon her return to the bedroom to prepare for her slumber, she crawled under the covers...only to be alerted to one last e-mail.
FROM: Drew McKenzie
TO: Maxine Kirk
SUBJECT: Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil
DATE: September 14, 2014, 12:01 AM
Dearest Wired,
The Story of O is the perfect read for you right now. I’d like a report tomorrow evening.
Now note the time, little one.
GO. TO. BED.
Cranky but still smitten,
Drew
Naturally, Maxine couldn't resist one last little retaliation before she dropped her head to the pillow, and quickly tapped out her reply.
FROM: Maxine Kirk
TO: Drew McKenzie
SUBJECT: The Story of M
DATE: September 14, 2014, 12:05 AM
Dear Cranky,
Good night.
MK
Chapter Sixteen
“Holy fucking shit, Maxine, you need to get the hell out of bed…right now!”
Vaguely, Maxine thought she heard her phone ring—several times, in fact—but she fully intended to indulge in her last days of freedom and simply ignored the calls. Without bothering to open her eyes, she reached out to grab her phone from the nightstand, and hoped that Ben would just go make some breakfast.
“Max, get up—get out of bed!” he demanded, tugging at the corner of her comforter in an effort to pull it away from her. For a tiny little lady, Maxine surely exuded some strength when she needed it. “You made Page Six!”
An unavoidable groan left Maxine's lips. While she wanted nothing more than to pull her pillow over her head and hide from the histrionic sh
ow from her best friend, she opened one eye, wondering what the hell was so urgent...and pondered the importance of whatever Page Six was.
Relenting, she forced herself to sit and minded Ben with glaring green eyes. “Care to explain this little outburst?” She glanced at her phone to check the time. It was barely eight in the morning, but her life had somehow catapulted fast and furiously into full swing.
“Look!” Ben held up a copy of the morning edition of the New York Post. “You and that beguiling Broadway Boy are featured in today's Page Six! It’s the most important gossip column in the city. There's a photo.”
“Oh, noooo...” Maxine clutched her stomach and fell back on her pillows. Now she was relatively certain that there were several messages from Drew awaiting her reply. Grabbing the newspaper from Ben's clutches, she squinted her eyes and exhaled through her gritted teeth.
Oh, the power of a telescopic lens, Maxine thought as she stared at the full-color page with a close-up shot of yesterday's picnic, captured right at the moment when Drew took her hands in his.
“Well, at least you two weren’t crawling all over each other in the photo,” Ben said, trying to alleviate some of her embarrassment that morning. “Don’t you think it’s a cute picture?”
“Um, no,” she spat and pushed the paper aside. So acutely aware of her heart thudding and throbbing in her chest, Maxine thought she just might throw up. This simply couldn't be happening. “Damn!”
“Wow, you’re really upset if you’re swearing,” Ben said. “Listen, Cap, they didn't even name you! No one will know.”
“Please, Ben, I need a few minutes alone to—”
When her phone began to ring once again in the palm of her hand, Maxine began to tremble. It wasn't Drew. The call was coming from Dawson & Donahue. She hoped she hadn't lost her job before it even began just because of a stupid photograph in the newspaper. The worst of it all was the fact that Jeffrey Dawson also happened to be Drew McKenzie’s best friend!
WEAKENED: The Manhattan Bound Series Book One Page 19
