Adam.
“Why did you call me?” I hiss.
“You make him happy,” Adam states. I want to roll my eyes at the idiot.
“He makes me happy, too.”
“I’m sorry for everything, Maggie. If I could go back and change shit, I would. As a kid, all I ever wanted was to be like Jackson. I couldn’t measure up. I wasn’t as good as he was at ball and I was nowhere near as smart as he was when it came to school. I guess now, I’m not different. What I did was selfish; it was a dick move. I love my brother and when that video came out and I saw the agony I had caused him, it killed me. I just wanted to apologize,” he says. I nod in understanding even though he can’t see me.
I don’t understand the love of a sibling, but I do understand what it is like to constantly compare yourself to another person. I did that for many months with the women that Sammy chose to have affairs with. It didn’t help me and it didn’t make me feel good so I understand how Adam feels.
“I forgive you, Adam. What happens now?” I ask.
“Now? I disappear forever. I just needed to apologize,” he says. I shake my head and close my eyes, hating the whole thing.
“Thank you for apologizing. He loves you, Adam, I hope you know that.”
“I do. He’s my brother and no matter how badly I fuck up, he’s always been there for me. I love him, too and that’s why I won’t be coming back into your lives. Make him happy, Maggie,” he says. Before I can say another word, the phone call goes dead and I am left alone in the kitchen.
I don’t bother with getting any water. I slowly make my way back to bed, back to Jackson’s arms, and I snuggle into his body a little deeper than before. Jackson’s warmth surrounds me and I feel a pang of sadness at the fact that he truly may never see his brother again.
I hope that one day the situation changes. I feel as though, beneath all the bad, there is a core of good inside of Adam. Maybe once he’s lived a clean life, he’ll realize that although he may not be a sports star or a super genius, Jackson loves him just the same.
Jackson loves and he loves hard. I know that he will forgive Adam for his misguided attempts at self-preservation, eventually.
Day one of Elliot’s trial has me a nervous wreck. I watch as he walks in, handcuffed, wearing an Armani suit and Italian shoes. He looks as though he’s in complete control and nothing, I mean nothing, can faze him. It makes me shiver with fear and disgust. Jackson wraps an arm around me and I look up to see him glaring at the crazy attorney.
I close my eyes, unable to stop my tears while the congressman’s daughter, Natasha, replays her horrific time spent as Elliot’s sex slave. She’s a gorgeous girl and I hope that she can get the help she needs. I know that nobody could just walk away without serious damage caused by the sick and twisted things Elliot forced her to endure.
On the second day, it is my turn to take the stand. Although our encounters were brief, the prosecutor wants to prove that taking Natasha and the other women were not one-time instances, but that he indeed has a habit of intimidating and stealing women.
“Is it true that you allowed Mr. Baker to physically restrain and spank you in a sex club, Mrs. Rogers?” his defense attorney asks. Elliot grins and winks at me.
“I did. One time,” I admit, afraid to look directly at Jackson.
“You were attracted to him? You wanted to be his submissive, did you not? Isn’t it true that he never stalked you? No, you wouldn’t leave him alone, isn’t that the case?” I try to open my mouth to answer, but the prosecutor objects and he changes the question.
“Were you or were you not attracted to Mr. Baker?”
“I was. He is a very charismatic man,” I confess. I hear Jackson growling from across the courtroom.
“You accepted his advances and a date, did you not?”
“Yes,” I confess, again, as the prosecution approaches me.
“You accepted his advances at the club but did you ever go out on the promised date?” he asks. Finally, I get to explain a bit of my story to the jury.
“I did accept the date, but I never followed through. I broke it off with him and he became angry. He choked and threatened me before he broke into my fiancé’s apartment and repeated his threats and physical abuse.”
I spend hours on the stand, being grilled and answering questions, before my portion of the trial is finished. I practically run away from the podium and into Jackson’s waiting embrace.
It takes two long days after the trial of Elliot Baker for the jury to declare a verdict. Guilty on all counts. Elliot is a sick man – a sick bastard. Nothing about him is safe, sane, or consensual. He probably won’t be seeing the light of day ever again, and i can breathe a little easier now that the whole disaster and nightmare is over.
“I wanted the death penalty,” Jackson exhales.
“New York abolished the death penalty, Jackson,” I say softly as we walk out of the courthouse.
“We should move to Texas, then.”
I throw back my head in laughter.
“It’s over, baby,” I whisper, wrapping my arms around his neck. Jackson kisses the corner of my lips before his finger slides through the ring of my collar.
“Damn right it is,” he grunts before pressing a bruising kiss against my lips.
This crazy man. This man that I love like crazy. He is my safe place and I couldn’t be happier than I am in this exact moment. Everything that I have been through, everything that we have been through was completely and totally worth it. One look into his dark eyes makes all the pain of the past melt away and I am in awe that he claimed me.
Six Months Later
BLINDFOLDED AND NAKED - EXCEPT FOR my gigantic diamond ring on her finger, and the heavily weighted diamond collar around her neck, marking her as extremely, profoundly, mine – and the ruby jeweled nipple clamps I bought her for a wedding gift, glinting in the low light.
Marguerite is lying down on a bed of with highest thread count sheets. This is her fantasy and I am more than willing to oblige, even if it means that she has no clue where we are or what is about to happen.
Maggie his submissive, but more importantly, my wife of just two months. She hasn’t brought up public sex again, but I knew she was still interested. I couldn’t go through with it, though. I couldn’t share her body with anybody, again. That video was enough exposure. So instead, I rented out this room, a conference room in a hotel. I paid a pretty penny to have a bed put in and the place locked up tight. This is all about perception, illusion, and fantasy.
I slowly run my hands from her soft shoulders down her thin arms to her delicate wrists. Wrapping each of her wrists in one of my hands, I move her arms above her body and gently tie them together, then to the headboard of the wrought iron bed. I would never purposely leave marks on Marguerite and rope markings are no different. Although, I rather like my teeth marks and handprints on her creamy flesh.
Maggie’s breasts were pressed forward as her hands were bound above her and I can’t help but tweak one of her jeweled nipples, relishing in her gasp of surprise.
“There are people all over this room and they’re going to watch me fuck you. Does that turn you on, little bunny?” I lie.
She moans and her lower body squirms, so I spread her thighs and swipe a finger through her drenched center.
“Jackson,” she groans, her voice going straight to my dick.
I divest myself of my suit, trousers, tie, shirt, shoes, socks, and boxers. Crawling up the bed, between her beautifully spread thighs, I lick her sweet pussy. Maggie widens her legs and moans, pushing her hips closer to my face.
Shifting my body around, I harshly order Maggie to open her mouth before I slowly sink my cock into her hot, wet, mouth. Then I begin to lick her pussy, focusing on her perfect clit, relishing in her sweet sounds around my cock. Fucking her mouth is one of my favorite pastimes and she allows me my indulgences. After a few moments, I am too close, my balls pulling up and a tingle rising up my spine telling me
it is time to end this little oral session.
I suddenly pull out of her mouth and wrench my own, begrudgingly, away from her pretty pussy. Rolling off of the bed, I shift her over and manipulate her body so that she is resting on her elbows. Her ass in the air, her thighs spread, and the sweet chain between her tits is dangling down, begging to be tugged. I want her to think that the room full of imaginary people are watching me slowly sink into her tight, wet, heat.
Crawling up behind her I wrench her hips back. I keep one hand on my cock as I slide it through her center, teasing her clit and coating myself in her wetness. Achingly slow, I begin to sink into her tight pussy, my eyes surveying the room, making sure that we are good and truly alone.
Marguerite is a sight of pure lust and desire when she is naked and on her way toward finding her release. I don’t have the balls to share that with the world, not after the sex tape bullshit, which has all but killed the fantasy for me.
I continue to fuck her slowly, my fingers digging into the soft flesh of her hips as I move her body to my tempo. Rising to my knees’ full height, I pick her up. Maggie’s arms are stretched and no longer bent but still resting on the bed. I begin to thrust into her hot body, hard and fast.
Maggie’s pussy clenches around my cock. Knowing how much she enjoys my hard thrusts, I continue without stopping until she is screaming my name as her pussy strangles me. Only then, do I allow myself to come inside of her beautiful body.
I ease my way out of her sweet center, standing on shaky legs before I untie her bound wrists, massaging them back to life. Then I remove the blindfold and look down on her gorgeousness, hoping to only see sated happiness in her features.
“That was amazing. But where is everybody?” she asks, her brow furrowed. I want to laugh, but instead I slide onto the bed and wrap her in my arms as I gently remove the jeweled clamps from her pretty pink nipples.
“They’re probably all fucking each other like rabid beasts right about now.”
“They were here the whole time then? Thank you for blindfolding me, Jacks, I don’t think I would have been able to get into it had I seen them around me,” she whispers. I knew that, of course. I did. For as open as Maggie is with me, she is still very naïve and shy in her own way. One of the many things I truly love about her.
“I want to make you happy, but I have to confess something,” I admit and watch as Maggie smiles widely at me, it hits me in my gut and I can’t help but smile back at her. She is just so gorgeous.
“Nobody was here. I couldn’t. I couldn’t share you, not again,”I confess. Maggie just looks at me, unreadable.
“You make me so happy, so very happy,” she whispers before her lips touch mine. She then kisses my nose and we climb out of bed to get dressed before making out exit. We leave the building, headed for him as if we had a regular, normal, date.
“You aren’t upset?” I finally ask as I hold my woman, my wife.
“Not at all. Honestly, I don’t think I would have felt good about it, you know if there had been people there. I was really freaked out, but I was turned on too. I trust you so much Jackson, I know that whatever we do together you’ll make it feel good.”
Sometimes it seems I know my wife better than she knows herself.
“Yeah, babe, I figured as much, but I wanted to give it to you if you thought you needed it.”
“You give me everything I need and want and you gave me exactly what I could handle. I appreciate you, Jackson, and I love you.”
As I settle down, holding my wife, I realize that I used to think life couldn’t get any better. Now, I am discovering that I was wrong. Each and every day with my Marguerite, my life gets even better than the day before.
The brownstone is home, our home. We bought it right after our wedding and I love it. Jackson packed up his apartment and we moved as soon as we found the place. He didn’t even have to ask me if I wanted a new home, he just knew that we needed a place of our own. A place to call ours, a place to start over, brand new.
“Maggie, babe, turn that brain off. You woke me up,” Jackson mumbles, his face nuzzling in my hair from behind me. I feel his warm palm slide up my stomach and wrap around my breast. He slowly massages the flesh sending jolts of pleasure straight to my core.
“Jackson,” I breathe.
I can’t believe he wants more sex. Last night, he had not only taken me in - what I thought - was public, something that I still haven’t wrapped my head around, but then we came home and he took his time loving me again, until the wee hours of the morning.
“Love this pussy,” he whispers, sliding his cock in deep. I wrap my leg around his calf to spread myself further for him. I love it when he takes me like this, slow and sensual, sexy and sweet.
“Love your cock, love you,” I whisper back to him, arching to get closer, deeper.
Jackson doesn’t respond with words. Instead, his hand drifts down between my legs to press against my clit. Two fingers lightly tapping at me, sending me so close to the edge while he fills me, his power soft and sweet.
“I want you to come all over my cock. Then, I’m going to roll you over and fuck you so hard, you’re going to see goddamned stars, babe,” he groans. I want to laugh at his words, but I can’t because I am too busy climbing toward my release and then screaming his name.
Jackson does exactly as he claims. Once I come, he pulls out, rolls me over, and yanks my hips up like I’m some kind of rag doll. Then he thrusts into my core, deep and hard. He doesn’t finish his rough thrusts until I am screaming again and he finally comes with a low groan. I close my eyes as he collapses on top of me, still rooted inside.
“Every single time, Maggie, still so fucking perfect,” he rasps. I sigh at his words and sigh again when he pulls out of me.
I know it is perfect every single time, but for him to tell me so makes me feel special, worthy, and loved. I had never felt that way before, until Jackson came in and demanded to be a part of my life. For all of our issues and our roadblocks to happiness, I have never felt as loved as I do with him.
I close my eyes and think back to his vows, vows that were so gorgeous they made me cry big, fat, ugly tears.
Our wedding was small destination affair, just the two of us, on a beach in Hawaii. A place neither of had been to before, we decided to stay in the country. It was perfect and I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. Jackson’s words were the most beautiful part of my day. Not the five thousand dollar dress, the multi-thousand dollar collar or ring, but his words. His words were more precious than all of the gold and money in the world.
“I, Jackson, take you, Marguerite Emma, to be my bride for eternity. Not one second will go by that you will not cross my mind. You are mine, completely and solely. I vow to be your protector, your lover, your friend, and your champion, in all aspects of our life and relationship.
“Not only are you mine, but I am yours. I give myself to you. You hold my heart and happiness in your hands. You are completely in control of me. I love you today, tomorrow, now and forever.”
Coming Early January 2016
The Final Book in the Men of Baseball Series
Forced Play for Libby (Series Standalone)
As an only child, Hayley Faiman had to entertain herself somehow. She started writing stories at the age of six and never really stopped.
Born in California, she met her now husband at the age of sixteen and married him at the age of twenty in 2004. After sixteen years together, he’s still the love of her life. Hayley’s husband joined the military and they lived in Oregon, where he was stationed with the US Coast Guard, before they moved back to California in 2006, where they had two little boys. Recently, the four of them moved out to Hill Country in Texas, where they adopted a new family member, a chocolate lab named Optimus Prime.
Most of Hayley’s days are spent taking care of her two boys, going to the baseball fields for practice, or helping them with homework. Her evenings are spent with her husband and her nights - those a
re spent creating alpha book boyfriends.
My husband, Jeremy, the hubbsters, the hubbs, he goes by many names but he’s my best friend and he’s the backbone in my life. I would not be living my dream, writing books and raising my sweet boys without him at my side encouraging everything that I do.
Lana, my moms, banana boots, my other best friend. The woman I have looked up to. The woman who taught me to follow my dreams, that I could do whatever it was I wanted in life. The first person who reads every single story I write and has since I was five years old.
Tanisha, my sister from another mister, thank you for always having an encouraging word and congratulations on the slightest milestone. HAPPY BIRTHDAY BITCH.
Cassandra, my bestie. Thank you for ALWAYS listening to me vent and freak and completely lose it.
Louisa – LM Creations - without you this cover would not be so scorching hot and beautiful all at the same time. Thank you so very much.
Finally, RC Martin. Maggie would not be published if it weren’t for you. I don’t know how our paths crossed all I know is that I thank God every day that they did. Maggie is my baby but she’s yours too. I hope that I did her justice.
Finally, to my fans and everybody who one-clicked.
THANK YOU.
I wouldn’t be living this dream without every single person reading this right now. I appreciate you more than words can express.
Catching Maggie Page 25
