In His Cuffs

by Sierra Cartwright

  She opted for her usual wear, pretending her soul didn’t feel fractured.

  Pain split her head, made worse by the several blocks’ walk from her car. When she entered the front door, she headed straight for the medicine cabinet in the break room. She downed two aspirin with the black coffee Barb poured.

  “Too much fun last night?”

  Maggie shook her head, and even that hurt. “Not enough sleep.”

  The morning passed in a blur of activity as the caterers arrived and centrepieces and new marketing pieces were delivered. She instructed an intern on how to set up the booth they used for trade shows, and the IT techs tested their projectors.

  A copywriter entered her office and handed her the final script they’d be using during the announcements to ensure they thanked everyone who was there. He also handed her David’s bio to use when she introduced him as the new owner.

  Gloria swooped in wearing a red maxi dress with at least three metal belts wrapped around her waist. “Things are looking good. You’ve done a great job on the organisation, and I understand all of our biggest clients will be here. I just hope the tyrant can be bothered to show up during his part.”

  “Out.” Maggie pointed at the door.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I warned you that I won’t listen to that. Go find someone else who will. And if they do, I’ll fire them. It’s insidious and it stops now. Here.”

  “I never,” Gloria protested.

  “Yeah, you did. Never gave him a chance, and neither did I. You’ve got a fat pay cheque coming that you wouldn’t have had otherwise.” And still might not if he chose to fire her for insubordination. She wouldn’t blame him if he did. “You might try a little cooperation when all else fails.” She knew that, to others, he might not look engaged because he spent so much time working offsite on the other deal. But speculation about his work hours had to end too, particularly when almost everyone at World Wide Now set their own schedules.

  One of the catering assistants popped her head in the door. “I don’t know where you’d like the cake?”

  Maggie wondered if it would be rude to cut a piece and eat it now. She could use the sugar boost. “Mother, can you help her?”

  “This way,” Gloria said to the young lady, once again distracted. “The frosting doesn’t have dairy, does it?”

  David showed up, dapper in grey with a blue tie. Wildly she wondered if that was the one he’d shoved in her mouth the first night at her condo.

  “You’ve done a nice job on the event,” he told her. “I understand you got my bio?”

  “Gloria will be reading it, if that’s all right?”

  He nodded.

  “You can do the acknowledgements. I thought I’d handle the welcome and the staff introductions. You up for a rehearsal?”

  He nodded again.

  They had a large presentation room and, except for a couple of bar-height tables, it had been cleared.

  Their sound person joined them, showed them how the lapel microphones worked, ran through a check then stepped back while Maggie, Gloria and David read through their lines.

  “We make a good team,” Gloria said.

  By the time David’s introduction had been made to the crowd, Maggie agreed. When they worked together, things ran seamlessly. David even displayed some unexpected humour that caught some laughter and a smattering of applause.

  She stayed through the end. And went home alone.

  He hadn’t even stuck around to say goodnight.

  What had she expected? She swallowed the lump in her throat. How could she have been so shallow? David had been open, if unyielding, about his expectations of her. There weren’t many. He even cooked and made Sunday-morning lattes.

  She’d been so caught up in looking at the situation through fearful eyes that she’d blown her chance to be with the one man who satisfied her more than anyone ever had. He would have continually pushed her, but the rewards she’d already experienced were more than she could have imagined.

  Feeling miserable, she picked up the phone and asked Vanessa to join her for a drink. Vanessa said she had only a little time before her two men were coming over. “I’ll share,” Vanessa added.

  “I’ll pass. Thanks.”

  “Come on over, I’ll make you a margarita. You don’t have to stay.”

  She swung by Vanessa’s but just felt more miserable when the first taste of salt hit her tongue. She wasn’t in the mood to be cheered up. What should had been a celebratory evening following the mad success of the open house had ended up echoing with loneliness, amplified by Vanessa’s uncontained enthusiasm for her night ahead.

  When the hunks in leather pants and no shirts arrived, Maggie excused herself.

  “Not tempted?” Vanessa asked.

  “Not even a little bit.”

  “You’ve got it bad,” Vanessa said. “We’ll go shopping tomorrow.”

  One of the guys grabbed Vanessa’s hair and pulled back her head.

  “If you survive,” Maggie said with a grin. She let herself out and went home alone.

  Chapter Nine

  “Has anyone seen my sanity?” Maggie asked the next Friday morning as she accepted one of the frozen drinks Barb had brought in. “I lost it somewhere.” She stabbed a straw through the lid and took a grateful sip. Cold caffeine laced with chocolate hit her system, providing a much needed jolt. Not sleeping well for almost two weeks had caught up with her, leaving her mentally and emotionally weak. She’d worked dozens of extra hours, trying to stay busy and hoping David would finally speak to her.

  “Did you look in the break room?” Barb asked. “Maybe it’s in that box of pastries. That’s where I found mine.”

  “Pastries?” Gloria asked. She’d refused one of the milk-based drinks, but her tone went up an octave at the mention of sweets. “Any maple doughnuts?”

  “I don’t know. I saw something with sprinkles, though.”

  Gloria walked away.

  “Will you bring me a petit four?” Barb called. “It will be my second,” she admitted to Maggie. “They’re so small, I figure I can eat about eight and only equal one piece of cake. Right?”

  “I don’t judge.”

  The front door opened and David walked in.

  Breath vaporised in Maggie’s lungs. How was it possible for him to devastate her more every day?

  His tailored navy blue suit emphasised the breadth of his shoulders and the colour of his eyes. His hair was getting longer, more rakish. He smelt shower-fresh, with a layer of masculine prowess.

  “Morning, ladies.”

  “I’ve got an extra chocolate caramel upside down latte, if you want it,” Barb said.

  “I’ll just stick with coffee. Thanks,” he said.

  Was Maggie the only one who felt the sizzling charge in the atmosphere?

  He nodded and moved past her. She caught a glimpse of his supple leather belt and an erotic chill danced down her spine.

  “Does he seem different to you?” Barb asked.

  “In what way?”

  “I don’t know, more distant.” Barb accepted the tiny pastry Gloria carried in. “I was just asking Mags if she thinks David seems different,” she said, including Gloria in the conversation.

  “He’s always polite,” Gloria said. “In a frosty kind of way. He’s never given me the time of day. But I get what you mean. He spends more time in his office with the door closed than he ever has.”

  At least Gloria was no longer making snide comments about his work habits. It would take a while for her to come around, but it was a start.

  “See what I mean?” Barb asked.

  Gloria sank her teeth into an éclair. “Damn, this is good.”

  “I’m sure he’s fine,” Maggie said.

  “We’re all being nicer and more respectful, like you told us to, but he seems to have become more remote. Maybe you could ask him if there’s something wrong,” Barb suggested.

  “Me?” Maggie asked, horrif
ied.

  “He talks to you more than the rest of us.”

  “Not true.” Not anymore.

  “It’s true,” Gloria disagreed. “You work more closely with him than anyone does.”

  “Find out, Mags.”

  She nodded since she couldn’t out-and-out lie.

  “I need to check my email,” Gloria said as she licked cream from her finger and headed for her office.

  “You didn’t tell her the filling is dairy,” Barb said.

  “You tell her,” Maggie replied. “If you want me to talk to David, you have to deal with her. Only fair.”

  “I guess both of us are keeping our mouths shut then?” Barb said with a grin, reaching for her treat.

  She had a meeting with David to show him revisions to the new company’s logo. Even though he’d approved the eagle previously, she’d had one of the lines removed so that the talons appeared fiercer. It complemented the more streamlined lettering of the company name.

  “I like it.” He signed his initials to the bottom of the page. “We’re still keeping it under wraps?”

  “Of course.” It amazed her how natural it would have been to add the word Sir. Not just natural, but right.

  He slid the paper across the conference room table towards her. “I miss you, Maggie.”

  She froze.

  “It’s probably better this way,” he said.

  “Is it?” She could hardly force the words past the lump in her throat. “It’s not for me.”

  “I’m a demanding bastard. I require any sub of mine to be honest and respectful at all times.”

  “A submissive. Is that what I was to you?”

  “I was hoping so. I thought we were moving that direction. Clearly it was not what you wanted.”

  She lowered her hands to her lap so he couldn’t see the way she was wringing them together beneath the table. The wall that faced the hallway was made of glass, so anyone passing by could see inside the room. This wasn’t where she would have chosen to have this discussion, where anyone could witness her humiliation, but she didn’t want to lose the opportunity. “It is what I want,” she confessed, voice raw. “I was out of line in more ways than one.” She took a breath, and he didn’t speak. Unsure if she’d have another chance to apologise, she continued, “You own the company, and I should have told you what I had done. I called your phone that day, but I could have, should have, left a message. Regardless, the relationship we have—or had—outside of the office demanded I show you more respect.” She blinked. “I’m not sure how to make it up to you, or if I can earn your forgiveness.”

  He pressed his palms together in front of his face and tapped his index fingers.

  The moment drew out over at least thirty excruciating seconds before he spoke.

  “I want to be very clear about a few things. First, your immediate action saved the Hoskins Group account. Second, I see that you made systems changes to ensure it doesn’t occur again. I’m not happy the fuck-up happened to begin with, and I’m not happy we extended the term of the original agreement without giving the renewal due consideration.”

  She absently picked at a cuticle.

  “Where I take exception to your behaviour is with your deviousness.”

  Maggie exhaled a shaky breath.

  “You are supposed to be my most trusted adviser, Maggie. Is there another word that applies better? Distrustfulness, perhaps?”

  That was worse. “No, Sir,” she said.

  “Where do you want to go from here?” he asked, dropping his hands and leaning towards her.

  From the corner of her eye, she saw Barb walk by.

  “I’ve been lonely, Mr Tomlinson.” And the nightmares were a constant companion. “I’d like a second chance. I’m not sure I will ever be a perfect submissive. But I do know the time with you makes me want to try.”

  “Your behaviour would have to be punished.” He leant back in his chair, studying her.

  Oh God. Panic made her freeze. “Sir?”

  “We discussed punitive spankings, Maggie. As I recall, you said you would not like to receive one. I promise, you would hate it.”

  She shuddered.

  “I’ve taken some time to consider the situation from your point of view and understand why you would betray my confidence in that way.”

  Betray. Another harsh word.

  He’d said he’d taken time to think about her motivations. Now she also saw things from his vantage. He’d been relentless in his honesty throughout and she understood how she’d hurt him. The knowledge made her heart ache.

  “We could be good together, Maggie, on a personal as well as professional level. The decision as to whether we will be or not has always been in your hands. It still is.”

  “But I’d have to submit to your punishment.”

  “It’s for you, as much as for me.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “You said you didn’t know how to make it up. You can, anytime you want, by submitting to my cane.”

  “Jesus.” Her heart slammed to a stop as fear collided with nerves.

  “Five strokes. In my office. Your behaviour happened here, it will be punished here.”

  She couldn’t string two coherent thoughts together, and speech became impossible. He gave her time to process what he’d said. “You… Are you serious?”

  “Deadly.”

  His lips were set in a firm line. His eyebrows were relaxed, his shoulders loose. He was calm about this. And, she was certain, not negotiable. “I need to think.”

  “Of course.”

  * * * *

  She spent the next day doing nothing but that. On Sunday, she went over to Vanessa’s house.

  Vanessa blended up an extra-large batch of margaritas and poured each of them a glass before they went outside to sit on the deck. Even that reminded her of being with David. “Bring Mama V up to date.”

  “Mama V?”

  “One of the twins calls me that.”

  “Shit. They’re twins?”

  “Fraternal.”

  “And you’re the Domme now?”

  “Not always. But it turns out I look pretty good in boots and holding a whip.”

  “I bet you do.” Maggie took a drink.

  “Let me know if you’d like me to practise on you. I can show you a few tricks to get your man to lick your boots.”

  Maggie choked on a piece of ice. Vanessa laughed and slapped her on the back.

  “Now get serious,” Vanessa said. “And give me the ugly details.”

  Maggie brought her friend up to date, leaving nothing out. “And he wants me to call him Master.”

  “What the hell did you expect? Unlike my boys, your man’s a Dom. It’s not just a term of respect, it’s an acknowledgement of the power exchange. And you get to decide whether you want to have that kind of relationship or flip him the bird. You get that, right? He didn’t fire your ass, and you can continue your work relationship on professional terms. What the man asked you is if you wanted to be his sub. Do you?”

  “It’s not that easy.”

  “No relationship is, especially with someone as demanding as he is. Nothing comes with guarantees, you know that. Is it better to go for it or live with the regret?”

  Maggie thought about her father’s premature death. Would her mother have been better off if she’d never met him, sparing her the grief of loss?

  “I’d trade in the twins for a chance like you’ve got,” Vanessa said.

  “Seriously?”

  Vanessa drained her margarita in a single, big gulp. “Well, I’d consider it, at least. My advice? Call him what he wants and take your punishment like a big girl.” She put down her empty glass. “I’ll be back with the pitcher.”

  They spent the rest of the afternoon talking about a dozen different things, and by the time Maggie arrived back home, she felt settled in a way she hadn’t before. She thought about sending him a text message then opted to wait.

  That night,
she had her usual, middle-of-the-night glass of water on the patio.

  She looked at the cloudless sky and realised all the nightmares had one thing in common—they were trying to force her to look deep inside herself, to see what she feared then face it.

  Alone, she did.

  Yes, he might be dominating and overbearing, demanding more from her than she’d ever given. But he also gave more than she’d ever received—comfort, belief, trust. Next to him, all other relationships became insignificant. What he was offering was something real and authentic. There’d be no hiding, no other men, no lies or half-truths. She’d be physically exposed and emotionally vulnerable.

  Was she brave enough to meet his demands?

  At the office, he continued to be cool and polite. He didn’t bring up their personal relationship. He seemed energetic and as focused as always, and that annoyed her. She envied his calm, wanting him to be as torn up inside as she was.

  Over the next couple of days, she ran through the gamut of emotions before facing the truth. Somewhere along the line, she’d fallen in love with him. She admired his business acumen, but most of all she liked the way he was relentless in insisting she give everything she had to offer. She respected his inflexibility, his honesty, the way he cared for her when they were together. He made her feel safe and kept nightmares at bay.

  Last week he’d said he missed her, taking the first step in repairing the damage she’d caused. She missed him and wanted to be with him, even if it meant she had to accept a caning as well as his terms.

  On all levels, she was terrified.

  During her lunch hour, she sent him a message asking if she could have a moment of his time late this afternoon.

  He responded that he would see her at six o’clock.

  Because she was dreading their meeting and had no idea what she was going to say or how she was going to approach him, the hours passed like minutes. By four-thirty, many of the employees had left. By five, she and David were the only two people in the building.

  She tried to compose a letter, but couldn’t put the words in the right order. A couple of minutes before their appointment, her cell phone alarm rang. As if there had been any possibility she wouldn’t notice the time.