by Opal Carew
Mac sucked in a breath. “Easy.”
“Come on, lunkhead. Let’s get you home before you pick a fight with someone who lands you in jail.” Just as Shane finished warning him, they headed into the parking lot toward Mac’s car. He’d had all of half a beer and had no problem being the designated driver. Except Wilson—the guy who’d once screwed with Maggie—and two of his huge friends stood in the way, uncaring of the weather, apparently.
“Better run, Nancy,” Mac said to Shane. “I have the feeling dickhead and his girlfriends want to play.”
“You see what I’m saying?” Wilson told his friends. “Nice eye, Jameson. Why don’t my friends and I give you another to match?”
Shane rolled up his sleeves. “Man, it’s been a while since I did this.”
“Just don’t have Shelby blaming me for your injuries,” Mac warned and turned to meet Wilson head-on.
The next day at the airport, Mac felt like a huge bundle of nerves. He’d heard big news from his uncle on his way to the Sea-Tac Airport. Of all the times for Ian to disclose such an important decision, it had to be today. His uncle wanted Mac to take over at the gym. Mac had to think about it. He would have said yes if he’d been asked before Maggie, but now, he didn’t know what to do.
She stepped into view looking tired but happy. She glanced around, but when she saw him she lit up like a Christmas tree. His heart hammered, and he knew right then and there that she made everything right in his world.
Before she could launch herself over three nuns and a passel of kids who’d broken away from their mother, Mac reached her and pulled her into his arms. He kissed her long and hard, until one of the nuns tapped him on the shoulder.
He flushed. “Oh, sorry.”
The woman smiled. “Love is blind, but children aren’t.”
He tugged her away from the small crowd.
“What happened to your face?” Maggie asked, shocked to see his black eye and bruised cheek, no doubt.
“I ran into Wilson again. This time he had a few friends. But hey, problem solved. Trust me.” He didn’t feel the need to talk about Trevor’s part in his bruises if he could help it.
Maggie cursed Wilson in a low voice as Mac dragged her toward baggage claim. It took forever to get her suitcase, and while they waited, she filled him in on her triumph.
But her comment about an alternative plan stopped him short. “Wait. Say that again?”
“Eric wants me to move out there.”
Mac swallowed hard. “So are you going to move out to Philly? You lived on the East Coast in DC, right? Probably pretty similar.”
She sighed. “Too much the same. My life is out here, and I like it.” She gave him a look he couldn’t figure out.
“Where the hell is your bag?” He wanted to talk to her in private, away from all these people.
“Mac?”
“Yeah?” She’s said her bag was red. Was that it?
“Do you want me to stay here?”
He met her gaze, not sure what to say. He didn’t want to hamper her dreams, but he wanted her to want to stay with him.
When he didn’t answer right away, she turned to the baggage wheel. “I see.”
Fuck. “No, you don’t.” He grabbed her hand and dragged her toward the restrooms. He spied a mother and son coming out of the family door and dragged Maggie inside the single room and locked them inside.
“Um, Mac? I don’t have to go.”
“I don’t want you to leave, okay?” The pressure to confess about being a selfish jerk took hold, and the truth came spilling free. “I shouldn’t have ignored your calls and texts. I should have been there for you. I could have flown out, you know?”
He stared at himself in the mirror instead of looking at her. He didn’t want to see her when she told him to kiss off. Yet he couldn’t not look at her.
“Why were you so mad at me?” She stood next to him, so pretty yet confused. He hated the hint of sadness in her eyes, especially since he’d put it there.
“I was never mad. I was scared.” He blew out a breath. “Maggie, you have so much going for you. You should make your dreams come true. Be that big-time artist. Live where it will do you the most good. Go to Philly if you need to.” It hurt to say, but it needed to be said.
“Why didn’t you come with me, Mac?”
“Because I fucking love you, okay?” he snarled.
“Wh-what?”
“I’m a pussy. I admit it.” He couldn’t believe he was saying all this in a public restroom, for God’s sake. “I love you, and it scares the shit out of me. I have a bad track record with women I care for. My mother took off, and my aunt left the same way. I have—according to my uncle and Mimi—a problem committing because I’m scared everyone’s going to leave me.”
Her eyes softened, and he had little enough pride left that he’d use that.
“I’m happy for you. I am. I just don’t want to lose you, and that’s selfish. God, I hate myself for wanting to keep you here. I don’t… I want to be with you. All the time.” He felt freer as he rushed the truth. “You make me happy. No one gets me like you do. You don’t take my shit. You’re a really bad loser. You’re mean. And you turn me on like no one ever has.” He swallowed hard. “I love you, Maggie. And if you need to move out East to make a go of things, I, uh, I could go with you. For support.”
She stared at him, wide-eyed.
Someone knocked on the door.
“I’ll be out in a minute,” Maggie yelled. To Mac, she cupped his face and drew him down to her for a tender kiss. “I have never seen you this scared, Mac. And it’s not a pretty look on you,” she teased.
He didn’t take offense, because the smile in her voice and joy in her eyes took his breath away.
“I was abandoned at birth. I transitioned through foster families, so I know what it’s like to be left behind.”
He blinked, not wanting to cry and look even worse to her.
“It took a lot of work for me not to feel that same way. I had Trevor, and I had some great people to help me along the way. And then I found Shelby. She’s my family. Mimi, Ron, now Shane. And you.”
He closed his eyes and let out a huge breath of relief.
“I was afraid too. I dated a lot of losers. Then you came along. Gruff, powerful, domineering. Just my type. I didn’t want to let you in on my dirty secrets, but you learned them anyway. My private kinks. How the heck was I so lucky to find someone to accept me for who I am?”
“I do, you know.” He cleared his throat. “You’re so beautiful to me, inside and out.”
“God Mac.” She wiped a tear from her eye and laughed. “You have the worst timing. We’re in a bathroom at the airport.”
“Shit. I know. This is probably the most unromantic declaration of love you’ve ever heard, right?”
“The only one that matters.” She kissed him again. “I love you too, you know.” She yanked him to her by his shirt. “Sir.”
He groaned. “You don’t know how happy it makes me to hear you say that. Maggie, it’s been hell without you here. I’m so sorry I didn’t go out there with you.”
“Actually, it was good I went alone. I stood on my own two feet. The one thing that’s scared me is how much I like when you take charge of me. I worry that I’ll like it so much I’ll let you take over all the time.”
He shook his head. “Nope. I don’t have any desire to boss you 24/7. Just in bed, where it’s the most fun.”
Someone knocked again, and Maggie gave what sounded like a giggle.
“Christ. Promise you won’t tell anyone I told you I love you at a public toilet.” He opened the door and apologized to a lady with three kids.
The woman stared, slack-jawed, at him and Maggie.
“He loves me,” Maggie said simply and hugged his arm as he directed her back to the luggage belt.
He found her bag and dragged it and her to his car in record time. But instead of driving home, he pulled into the closest hotel he cou
ld find. The place cost an arm and a leg, but he didn’t want to wait any longer.
He ignored Maggie’s questions and entered their room with her behind him. Then he tugged off their jackets.
“Here, Mac? You couldn’t wait until we got home?”
“You talk too much,” he growled.
“What—?”
Mac shut her up with a kiss. While Maggie’s ears rung, he stepped back and pulled something out of his back pocket.
“I had this to give you at Christmas, to go with the earrings.” Mac opened the case and held a beautiful sapphire choker. “I want to collar you, Maggie. Permanently.”
She blinked at the piece. “Wait. Collar?”
“Yeah. Something you’ll always wear, like a ring but better.” He stroked her collar bone. “I love what’s between us. I’m not an easy guy, but I’m loyal. I don’t… I’ve never asked anyone to wear my collar. But I want you to have it, little sub. Wear it and think of me.”
Maggie stared at it, in awe of what it represented. “So you’re good with me being your sub…forever?”
He nodded.
“Just our little secret,” she whispered. “And you’re sure it doesn’t bother you about what I need? Like, the spankings and the bondage sometimes? The submission? I mean, it turns me on,” she said while blushing, needing him to truly understand this meant everything to her.
Mac fit his hand around her throat and squeezed, and she shivered, aroused and in love. “I need the same things only you can give me. This isn’t a game for me, Maggie. I need you in my life. In my bed. Telling me what to do at the gym.” He swallowed and took his hand away. “Ian finally offered to give me full control.”
“What did you tell him?”
“I wanted to talk to you about it first. Oh, and he and Mimi are a thing now. I ran into them one morning at my place. The morning after.”
Maggie grinned. “You poor thing. I bet Mimi scared you.”
“You have no idea.” He paused. “But about Ian’s offer. What do you think?”
“You need to boss people around. It suits you.”
“You suit me.” Mac picked up the collar. “Will you accept this?”
“I do.” The words made her shiver. “So are you trying to get out of an engagement ring?”
He chuckled as he fastened the silver chain around her throat. It fit perfectly. “No. I figured we’d take it slow. If I don’t drive you insane with my bad habits, and I can handle you being perky in the morning, I figure we could make a go of it.”
“Make a go of it?”
He shrugged. “Get married, have kids, everything.” He stared down at the choker. “I’ve never asked anyone for so much before, Maggie. But I’m asking you.”
“Mac.” She smiled through tears.
He smiled with her, relief there in his deep blue eyes. “It looks right on you, baby. My little sub.”
She touched the choker, and a huge ball of joy filled her. “My Master.”
“We have this room. A big bed, all to ourselves for”…Mac squinted at the clock…”another four hours until your surprise party.”
“Surprise party?”
“Act surprised.”
“I will. But we have so much time right now. What shall we do?” She stripped naked.
“That’s a very good start.”
“Can I give my master a suggestion?”
“As long as it involves me coming in your mouth, pussy or ass, sure thing.”
She rolled her eyes.
“I saw that. Oh yeah, you’re in sore need of some discipline.”
“Take the job at the gym. I’ll move into your place.” Was she rushing them?
“You can use the garage for your art studio.” Apparently not. He stared at her breasts. “I measured. It has plenty of room to store your equipment, and I could seal it in and heat the place to make it more comfortable for you.”
He wants me with him. Maggie knelt before him and took him out of his pants. She licked the underside of his shaft.
“Fuck.”
“Yes, Master. We need to fuck. I’ve been empty without you.” She licked and sucked his cock while he rocked into her mouth.
“No,” he rasped and drew her to her feet, then tossed her on the bed as if she weighed nothing.
She loved when he did that.
“We do this my way.” He shucked out of his clothes then mounted her and thrust deep. “That’s it. Right there. Yeah. We come together, sub. I love you, Maggie.”
“I love you too, Sir.”
“Even though you have yet to beat me at anything, I love you,” he taunted between thrusts.
Maggie clenched him tightly between her legs. Then she turned her attention to his chest and gave in to the urge to suck and bite his nipples.
She noticed his reaction and sucked his nipples harder.
Mac’s thrusts grew wilder, his breaths faster. He grazed her clit with each pass, and she rode the passion between them, conscious that his pleasure made everything better.
“Yes, Master. Let me pleasure you, Sir,” she begged, on fire to have him. “Come in your willing sub.”
“My dirty little sub,” he growled and came hard, just before she did.
After some time, she roused to feel him stroking her hair. “Dirty, huh?”
“Well, it sounded nicer than naughty slut.” He grabbed her hand before she could slap his chest, and chuckled. “Whatever you are, you belong to me, so it’s all okay,” he said softly. “Fuck, but I missed you, Maggie.”
She nodded. “Me too.” Then she grinned as something dawned on her. “I won.”
“What?”
She rolled him onto his back and sat over him. “Ha! You came first. I won. I beat you.”
He shook his head. “I beat you, Sir. Now I have to spank that ass, because how can my sub look so fine wearing her collar if Master doesn’t give her the discipline and love she needs?”
She blinked down at him and lowered her head. But her smile bloomed bright. “Yes, Master. I love you too.”
About the Author
Caffeine addict, boy referee, and romance aficionado, USA Today bestselling author Marie Harte has over 100 books published with more constantly on the way. She’s a confessed bibliophile and devotee of action movies. Whether hiking in Central Oregon, biking around town, or hanging at the local tea shop, she’s constantly plotting to give everyone a happily ever after. Visit http://marieharte.com and fall in love.
Other Releases
Bodywork
Wetwork
Tied and True
Reaper’s Reward
Satyr’s Myst
Willa’s Wish
Tip of the Spear
Of the Night
A Familiar Face
Tempting Traditions
Blackthorne’s Light
Mirror, Mirror
Saturnalia
Look for Trevor’s story in Wetwork, coming in 2014.
And don’t miss the book that first introduced Mac and Maggie, the story that drew Shane and Shelby together—Bodywork.
An excerpt from BODYWORK
By six thirty, Shelby had finished with her last client of the day and waved as the kind woman departed. Arching her back, she tried to rub away some of her own tension, knowing her night was far from over. She returned to the front desk to catch up on paperwork.
Massage therapy helped rid the body of contaminants and generally relieved stress. Yet more times than not, Shelby found herself mired in bills and the business side of things rather than dealing with the healing nature of her profession.
The phone rang, breaking into her thoughts. After taking a message, she frowned at the closed door of her massage room, wishing like hell the contractor would finish patching up the wall in Denise’s room. She checked the appointment book and noted Shane Collins scrawled in Denise’s barely legible handwriting. The appointment listed six o’clock, so Denise more than likely had another half hour to go.
Damn, Shelby hated to interrupt the massage, but she knew Denise would need to act on the message right away. She knocked quietly on the closed door and heard a low murmur from the room.
Denise opened the door an inch and peered out. “What’s up?”
“I’m sorry, but I’ve got a message for you that’s urgent.”
“No problem.” Denise called over her shoulder, “Shane? I’m sorry. I have to take this call, but I’ll be right back.” A low male voice answered before she left the room and closed the door behind her, then moved to the desk. “So who called?”
“Sorry, but it’s the man in your life. I’m afraid he’s broken his leg.” Shelby waited for the worried explosion sure to follow. Denise was fanatical about her man.
“Oh my God! Cupcake! What happened? Was that my mother?”
“Yeah. Your mom said he must have gotten loose somehow and ran out of the yard. A car driving at the speed limit hit him, so he’s not too roughed up. I know you’ll want to see how he’s doing. Why don’t you go, and I’ll finish up your client?”
Denise had tears in her eyes. Cupcake meant the world to her. A scrawny mutt she’d picked up at the pound, he’d been with her through thick and thin. “Are you sure?” Denise wiped her eyes.
Shelby handed Denise her car keys from the desk and nodded. “Go on home. Give me a call later and let me know how he’s doing.”
Denise flew out the door, and Shelby shook her head. She prayed, for Denise’s peace of mind, that the dog would make it.
Realizing she now had a client to pacify, she quickly moved into the bathroom to wash her hands and returned to her room. She entered to the soothing sounds of new age music and the slight aroma of jasmine from the burning candle in the corner. Dim yet peaceful, the room radiated serenity and relaxation.
“I’m sorry about the interruption,” she said quietly to the man lying on his stomach with his head down and resting in the doughnut-shaped pillow, which allowed for ease of breathing. He appeared almost asleep, his back rising and falling evenly, but he mumbled something she couldn’t quite hear. Before she could say anything more, he turned his head to the side, his eyes still closed.