by Opal Carew
“Tonight?” she asked stupidly. He’d had her. Kind of. What was his fixation on a date? Or was that some kind of code for convincing her to get him off?
“Not tonight. You had a long day. You’re tired.” He kissed her, and she felt exhausted all of a sudden.
“But you didn’t…”
“Nope. I’m saving that for you.”
“I didn’t agree to have sex with you.” She felt like an idiot for saying that considering he’d just fingered her to orgasm. But still, his arrogance grated.
Especially when he raised a brow and just looked at her.
“You shouldn’t assume,” she persisted.
He smiled, and the approval in his gaze warmed her. “That’s why I like you. Even when you look so soft and tired, you’re a ball buster.” He fitted her limp hand over his crotch, where she felt a very large, solid erection. “You’re going to take care of this for me at some point.”
“After our date,” she said and squeezed him. “If we have one.”
He closed his eyes, as if in pain. When he opened them, the need blazing there stole her breath. “After our date.”
She fought for control of herself and sat up straight, still straddling him. She removed her hand and righted her clothing, all while the powerful male remained tense under her. “If it will get you to stop begging,” she said with a sigh, “I guess I’ll agree to go out with you. Pathetic, Jameson.”
He grinned, but the mean glint in his eye told her not to underestimate him. The man turned her on without even trying. So unfair. “You know I’m going to make you pay for that.”
“You can try.” She blew him a kiss. “But after tonight, it’s going to be hell for you, thinking that you had those fingers inside me. Every time you see me, you’ll know what it was like to suck my nipple and kiss my mouth.” Yes. Finally, sexy Maggie came to the fore with a man. Not shy, submissive, doormat Maggie.
His chest heaved with her every word. “You’re a cruel woman. I really, really like that.” He kissed her hard on the mouth and pulled her hips close to grind over his arousal. “I can’t wait for our date.” He set her aside and stood, then pulled her to her feet. “Walk me out.”
“Quit bossing me around.” She never would have imagined she’d like this side of Mac. She still didn’t understand why he’d let her come but hadn’t gotten off. Or why he persisted in this date nonsense. “You do realize we’ll never be a couple, right? We should just have sex and end this before it gets started.”
He paused at her front door. “Oh?”
“You’re Mr. Macho. I’m a strong, independent woman. You have money. Yeah, I’ve seen your car. Don’t pretend. I’m the starving artist type. You also can’t commit to women, and despite what tonight might have been about, I’m not into one-night stands.”
“I know.” He brushed her hair back from her face. So gentle, those hands that only a week ago had been wrapped around a man’s throat. “I also know you’re going through a dry spell. I’m happy to help you through it.”
“A—what?” Had Shelby told him about her new celibate lifestyle? How embarrassing. I’m going to kill that mouthy brunette.
“Don’t worry about it. I like knowing you’ve been saving yourself for me.”
“Cocky bastard.” Over his laughter, she added, “I’ll have you know I could have a man at the snap of my fingers. Wilson, Brent…even you.”
His laughter faded. “You snap those fingers at anyone but me and we’ll have some problems.”
That dominance turned her on. But she couldn’t be an independent woman and like that kind of attitude in a man, could she? “Who the hell are you to tell me what to do?”
He shook his head. “I thought we weren’t going to play games. I’m the guy who just made you come all over his fingers. I’m the guy you’re going out with tomorrow night.”
“A Sunday night date?” She intentionally ignored the part about climaxing. Oh man, had she.
He waited.
Maggie wanted to be alarmed. She should have been ranting and raving over his attitude. Who the hell did he think he was? But as she watched him watching her, she knew a sense of excitement. Why not see where this might take them? Some harmless fun. And if he could make good on his promises of domination and control, she would more than take him up on his offer.
“So you think you’re man enough to control me, huh?”
“Yeah, I do. We agreed to a date. We’re eventually gonna fuck. Because that’s inevitable. We click. Admit it.”
“Sure. Physically, we seem to hit it off. But that doesn’t mean—”
“And you like me bossing you around. If you didn’t, you’d have quit by now. Besides, if you really listened to the rumors at the gym, you know I like being in charge.”
She’d heard that. Nothing specific, but the innuendo that Mac tended to get domineering in bed. No wonder he had women dying to get their claws into him. With his looks, money, and power, he was a dream come true. Except that part where he never lost the attitude and went through women like the flavor of the day.
“Whatever, Jameson.”
He just shook his head. “We’re having that date tomorrow night. And after that, well, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“Wait. Warn me about what?”
He turned to the door. She grabbed his arm, that thick, powerful forearm, and he stopped.
“Yes?” he drawled with excessive patience.
“You want a date, fine. But we can’t let this get weird. There’s Shane and Shelby. And I work for you.”
“Technically you work for my uncle. He owns the gym. I just run it.” He covered her hand with his. “This isn’t weird. It’s called going out. Normal people do it all the time.”
“Normal people? I just had an orgasm on my loveseat,” Maggie had to mention. Holy shit. She’d had an orgasm. Her first in over a year not instigated by her own hand. A miracle.
“True. I’m thinking you owe me one.” He leaned close to kiss her. “Dress casual. You’re coming to my place for dinner tomorrow. I’ll pick you up at six. And don’t forget your class tomorrow at two. Nicole said you’d cover for her.”
He left before she could argue.
Not that she had anything left to add. She’d agreed to cover for Nicole’s step class tomorrow. And she had nothing better to do on a Sunday night than read a book and wash her hair. Sad but true.
Maggie cleaned up and went to bed, not sure tonight had actually happened. Had Mac really been waiting in her apartment? Had the man truly made her come with no more than a few kisses and some very heavy petting?
Just thinking about what he’d done to her made her hot and bothered, as did the remembrance of how big and solid his cock had felt. Thoughts of having that inside her brought forth all the naughty fantasies she’d harbored. But how would Mac feel about fulfilling them? It would be really embarrassing to open up to him—Shane’s best friend—if he thought her some kind of crazy pervert.
She’d had a few boyfriends who tried to be more controlling for her, but she hadn’t bought the act. In the end, the sex had been a letdown, the relationship fizzling soon after. What few jerks she didn’t confide in had been wrong for her from the beginning.
For some reason, Maggie wanted to be controlled in the bedroom. She’d had fantasies about it for years, and the one time an ex-boyfriend had been close to getting it right, she’d been halfway to heaven in love, then found out he had a girlfriend on the side. Unfortunately, most of the men she sought to give her that submissive feeling acted like pricks. Mac was the first guy she’d met who seemed somewhat normal. Controlling, yes, but not cruel. Just sure of himself. Okay, the man acted conceited. She’d admit that. But he had a right to be that sexually assured with a body that fine.
What guy had she been with in the past five years—hell, make that ten years—had made her come so easily, then left without getting his? She still didn’t know what to make of that, or his odd request for a date.
&nbs
p; Did the king of no commitment want a relationship? Maybe he looked to Shane and Shelby as inspiration. Did he want Maggie to be his girlfriend? Because that kind of close tie freaked her out. She’d never made good choices with men, and Maggie actually liked Mac. She didn’t want to screw up a good thing. To her way of thinking, they could have sex, remain friends, and see each other socially when with their best buds. Group outings without all the drama and angst that accompanied her failed relationships.
And after the sex, they could and would remain casual friends. Friends with benefits. She could do that. So she hoped.
The next night she sat shuffling through the cable stations when a knock sounded at the door. A glance at the clock made her sigh. Mr. Marine, a good ten minutes early. Go figure.
“I’m not dressed yet,” she yelled out.
“Then I’m definitely coming in.”
She laughed to herself and crossed to the door. She opened it, and Mac pushed past her inside. “Grab your jacket. Let’s go.”
“Hello. And how are you today? I’m fine. What? Yes. The class went well. The gym wasn’t too crowded.”
He snorted. “Yeah, yeah. How are you? Good to hear. You look stunning, as usual. And no, I haven’t slept with anyone between last night, when you left me hard and frustrated, and now.”
She blinked at him as she grabbed her jacket. “I don’t think I asked about your sex life.”
“You should. Responsible partners are all about safe sex.”
“Oh my God. Are you lecturing me?”
The fifteen minute drive to his house grew into a debate about sexual responsibility. As usual, the argument was more about needling Mac than being right. Half the time she said things just to annoy him.
“Oh yeah. For me, a condom is a must,” she emphasized.
He frowned. “But you said you’re on birth control.”
“Duh, because I’m not ready for kids yet. But birth control doesn’t prevent disease.”
“Um, I get that. But I told you I’m clean,” he said as he parked the car.
She left the vehicle with him and walked up the drive. “I thought we were talking in generalities. Why the push to have sex with me? I thought this was just a date. You know. Where we talk to each other.”
He ground his teeth and let her into the house. “For such a small person, you have a big mouth.”
“I’m not that small. Unless I stand next to freakishly large people, like yourself.”
“You mean, freakishly sexy people. I know I make you uncomfortable, being so hot and godlike. It’s okay, Maggie. I’ll take good care of you.”
She shoved him out of the way and took a good look at his place. “I’m amazed your ego fits through the door.”
The large home in Green Lake fit what she’d imagined his finances to be. According to Shelby, who’d heard it from Shane, Mac had made a bunch of great investments over the years, diversifying. So unlike many in this economy, he actually had money to fall back on, added to his military retirement. He drove a new car that had to cost a pretty penny. And his home boasted hardwood floors, leather furniture, and exquisite built-in cabinetry around a stone fireplace. A few black and white photographs of different countries and places graced the walls. He didn’t have a lot of clutter, but he had pictures and Marine Corps mementos filling up a wall unit to the left of the fireplace.
She saw him in the décor, but she also thought he’d had help. “This is way too neat for you. I was expecting black leather and chrome. Some nudie posters and pizza boxes.” She liked that he narrowed his eyes, obviously irked. “So who helped you decorate?”
“Why is it so hard to believe I did it myself?”
She just stared at him.
He blew out a breath. “Fine. Shane’s mom helped me stage the stuff. But it was my taste. I picked out the furniture.”
“Hmm.” She ran a hand over the back of the leather sectional. “Feels nice, and it’s big enough for that monstrously large body of yours.”
“And my ego. Don’t forget how big that is,” he said sarcastically.
“There is that.” She waited for it.
“It goes without saying, I’m big all over.”
“I knew you wouldn’t let that one slide.”
He chuckled. “See? You do know me. Isn’t it nice, being all friendly?”
She shook her head and moved deeper into the house. Through a nice dining room big enough to seat six, she entered a gourmet kitchen. Jealous, because she’d always wanted something so nice, she took in the stainless steel appliances, black granite counter tops and top of the line pots hanging from a pot rack above the center island. He even had a prep sink in which a colander of fresh veggies sat.
“Don’t tell me you cook.”
“Why ruin your already sterling opinion of me?” He stepped around her and moved to the main sink, where he rolled up the sleeves of his dark blue sweater and washed his hands.
As usual, she had a hard time looking away. The sight of his strong forearms and large hands enthralled her. Mac didn’t play at being strong. He was strong. More than physically, he had a warrior’s spirit, an indomitable will to take charge and maintain order, and it never failed to fill her daydreams with just what he might be like in bed. Or worse, as a boyfriend.
She blinked as he finished wiping his hands on a towel.
“Penny for your thoughts.”
“Please. Mine cost a lot more than that.”
He chuckled and moved to the vegetables, then set to chopping them up with military precision.
“So you really cook?”
“Yep. I learned the hard way. Cook or starve. I chose to learn some culinary skills.”
“Ouch.”
“Yeah, well, my uncle can barely boil water. I’m usually fixing stuff for him.”
“I like Ian.” She mentally compared him to Mac. “You look alike. He’s just as big and mouthy as you are.”
“Thanks.” Mac reached for a pan, grabbed a bottle of olive oil from above, and set everything over the burner. From the fridge, he removed a tray of steak and onions. He added that and a small bowl of seasoning and started frying up their dinner.
“You look like a pro.”
“I’m good. Just ask around.” He winked at her.
“Funny, but your uncle was saying the exact same thing to some woman at the gym when I saw him. If I recall, she turned away in a huff while he laughed himself silly.”
Mac frowned. “And he has the nerve to tell me to go easy on the members.”
“Did you get into trouble because of that incident with Wilson?” For which she’d never thanked him.
“Nah. Uncle Ian was pissed about it until I told him why I choked the guy. Then he understood. We refunded Wilson’s money and kicked his ass out of the gym.”
“What did you say, exactly?”
“That Wilson had his hand on you and you didn’t like it. That was enough for Ian. My uncle taught me a lot growing up, and not hurting women was at the top of his list. Call him a throwback if you want, but I agree with him.”
“No, no. I like that. You’re gruff and you curse a lot. And let’s face it, you’re huge. But I’ve never been scared of you, that you’d hurt me, I mean.” She paused. “Thanks for helping me with Wilson.”
“You’re welcome.” For once he didn’t act superior. The simple reply was heartfelt and made her rethink what she knew about Mac all over again.
Chapter Five
“So you keep mentioning your uncle.” Maggie wanted to know more. “He raised you, not your parents?”
“My folks split up when I was eight,” Mac said matter-of-factly. “My father ended up getting killed by a drunk driver a year later. My mother took off. Haven’t seen or heard from her since.”
“Ouch.”
He grimaced. “Yeah. So Uncle Ian raised me. He was married to a woman he loved like crazy for years. Turned out she was nothing more than a—” He checked himself. “She was fooling around on him and tri
ed to take him for everything he had. A real user.”
“No wonder you have issues with women.”
He frowned. “I don’t have issues. I like women. Hell, I love women.” He leered at her, but she saw what he hadn’t said. The man had trust issues he’d more than earned.
A lot like her. “Well, if it makes you feel better, my folks left me on the doorstep of a church when I was just a baby. Just me and my older brother against the world.”
“No shit?”
“Yep. I’m a blond Little Orphan Annie.” She grinned, not bitter at all about how she’d been raised. “Luckily, Trevor and I grew up together in a series of foster homes. We weren’t placed with abusive or uncaring people. And we still keep in touch with a few of them.”
“Trevor, huh? Does he live close?”
“He travels a lot for work.” Doing secret squirrel stuff for the government his little sister isn’t supposed to know about. Corporate shark, my ass. The liar. “But we’re still close, even if we’re not physically together. He calls when he can and always brings me stuff from abroad. I don’t know if you saw my craft room when you were snooping around my apartment.”
“Not snooping. I was waiting for you.” He finished with the food and put the pan on a cool burner. After he turned off the stovetop, he fished two plates from a cabinet. “Trust me. I wanted like hell to look through your underwear drawer, but I thought that might freak you out more than just me being there.” He put the food on the plates then found a bottle of wine from a built-in wine cooler.
“Man. You have everything in here.”
“Just about. Grab a plate.”
She did and followed him into the dining room. No candles, but a wine bucket and two place settings complete with wine glasses waited for them. He poured them each a glass.
“Fancy.”
“Yeah, because I’m all about appearances.” He huffed. “I happen to like wine with my food. But I’d never turn down a good beer. And I don’t mean that blue ribbon crap.”
“A beer snot. I’m not surprised.”