I was ready to ask last night. I’ve decided honesty is something to strive for—a good thing, I think. Anyway, I opened my mouth to state my desires and he started talking, asking questions about my childhood. I didn’t mind answering. Like many New Zealand children, I come from a broken home where both my parents remarried and I was plunged into a blended family. Some of you are probably nodding because you’re in the same situation. But what do you do where your partner comes from a violent background? What do you do if he’s worried about turning into the same monster as his father? How do I get him to come to terms with the fact that if I give him permission to spank me, he’s not dropping into the same dark pit that haunted his father?
I’ve tried patience. I really have. Some of you might tell me to forget spanking and grasp the happiness I’ve found already. I can’t do that because that would be allowing myself to settle.
I don’t know what to do, how to approach this problem. My mind is going in circles, and I’m frustrated. I don’t want a stranger to spank me. I could do that—pay to have someone spank me—but I know in my heart it wouldn’t work. I want love and laughter along with my spanking. I want rich fantasies and silly role-playing. I refuse to settle for second best.
If you have advice for me, I’d love to hear it. How did you introduce spanking to your relationship? Did it happen by accident or was it a planned thing introduced to bring spiciness to your relationship?
Connor read the post with growing alarm. His heart thumped so fast it felt as if he’d run a hundred meter sprint. He wanted Maggie, not just for now, but for the future. A curse slipped free.
Why the hell had she picked up that bloody book?
With a glance at his watch, he grabbed his car keys and slammed from his apartment to do what he’d been putting off. He’d hoped Maggie would let go of this spanking idea. But no, she continued to blog and had attracted a following. A sensation he identified as jealousy clutched his chest, squeezing so tight it felt as if someone had applied a vice, clamping it shut around his ribs.
He knew little of his mother’s first marriage, mainly because he’d been a child when it happened and she’d protected him from the worst of the violence. But, he needed answers. He needed to reconcile his love for Maggie with her desire for spanking. And he needed to do it now, before he lost her to another man.
Half an hour later, he knocked on his mother’s door before opening it and shouting a greeting. Two cars sat in the driveway, so he knew his parents were at home. He’d been so wound up he hadn’t thought to call ahead.
His mother appeared from the lounge. “Connor, what are you doing here?”
Frank appeared beside her and wrapped an arm around her waist. “What your mother means is we’re pleased to see you.”
He exchanged a grin with Frank. “Aren’t I allowed to pop in to see you whenever I feel like it?”
“Of course you are,” his mother said. “We were about to have a barbeque. Can you stay? You are still coming for my birthday?”
“I’d love to have dinner, and I wouldn’t dare miss your birthday,” Connor said. “Although isn’t it cold for a barbeque? It looked like rain during the drive here.” The crash of thunder punctuated his words and rain rattled the windows with enough force to make them look outside.
“You brought that rain with you.” The twinkle in his mother’s eyes belied the stern words.
Connor grinned again, pleased he’d come, despite the circumstances that brought him. “Don’t you listen to the weather forecasts?” Although he’d thought about inviting Maggie and maybe the others for his mother’s birthday, he’d changed his mind. It would be like making a statement of intent, and he didn’t want to do that, not publically at least.
“I look out the window,” his mother retorted. “I make the right forecast most of the time.”
“What can I get you to drink?” Frank asked. “Gabby and I are drinking wine, but we have beer if you’d prefer.”
“You two catch up,” his mother said. “I’ll get Connor a beer and cook the steaks.”
Connor accepted a beer and followed Frank to the lounge. He sat then jumped to his feet. He paced, unable to settle. Belatedly, he noticed Frank studying him in a quizzical manner.
“Problem?”
With his round glasses frames, Frank reminded him of an owl. A wise old owl.
“Yeah. I’m not sure how to say this so I’m going to lay it out fast before I die of embarrassment.” Connor paced another lap of the lounge, the movement helping him to concentrate. “I’ve met a woman, someone I like and want a future with. She wants me to spank her as part of our lovemaking, and I’m worried I’ll hurt her. I…I…what if I take after my father?”
“Connor,” his mother said from the doorway. “Son, you’re not like Larry. You have the most even temper I’ve known. I’ve never seen a hint of Larry’s violence in you. Never.”
Frank smiled a gentle smile, the one that told Connor how much he loved both his mother and him. The same smile he’d always showered on them. “At least you stopped his pacing. I thought I’d have to spring for new carpet because of the track he’s wearing.”
“Mum, I’m sorry you had to hear. I know you don’t like talking about him.”
“Connor.” His mother looked as if she might cry.
Hell. Connor glanced at Frank and wished he hadn’t come to visit his parents. He took three steps toward the door.
“Don’t you dare leave.”
Connor froze.
Frank chuckled. “Take a seat, son. You’re not going anywhere until we talk about this.”
“I want to hear about this woman who has you tied in knots,” his mother said. “Besides, it’s nasty out there. Do you want me to worry about you driving home in the middle of a storm?”
He caved, sinking into the nearest chair. What had he expected? That he could drop his bombshell and escape without taking return fire?
“Dinner won’t be long,” his mother said.
“Do you need any help?” Frank asked.
“I can cope with cooking a few steaks,” she said. “You stay with Connor. Give him the talk.” She winked and the adoring look that passed between them made Connor feel like a voyeur.
“Have you talked to her about what you’re feeling?” Frank asked, getting straight to business.
Connor grunted, the sound containing severe irritation. “I’ve started to talk a million times but it’s…I keep wimping out.”
“I know it’s difficult, son, but the main thing is communication.” His eyes sharpened. “How do you know she wants you to spank her if you haven’t discussed the matter?”
Connor felt his cheeks heat, aware his reply wouldn’t show him in a good light. “She has a blog where she discusses spanking. One of our friends told me, so I’ve been reading it.”
“And she doesn’t know.” Frank picked up his wine glass and took a sip, his manner slow and purposeful. Thinking-mode, Connor realized, remembering Frank appearing the same way on numerous other occasions.
“She doesn’t know I read her blog.”
“Connor Grey,” his mother said, barging into the room. “I can’t believe you’ve been spying on this poor girl.”
“It must run in the family,” Frank said in a mild voice. “Gabby, I thought you were cooking the steaks.”
His mother ignored Frank’s quiet reprimand to focus on him. “Sweetheart, there’s a big difference between abuse and consensual loving.”
A vision swept his mind—one he’d rather not have. “Mum, I don’t want to talk about sex. Frank, what do you think about those All Blacks? Man, they choked in their last game against the Wallabies.”
His mother wrinkled her nose. “I know about sex.”
“Nah, you found me in a cabbage patch,” Connor said. “How do you think the All Blacks will go against the Springboks?”
“I should have told the stork to take you right back and bring me a little girl. I’m sure she wouldn’t resort to unde
rhand behavior. Sweetheart, you need to talk to her, tell her what’s on your mind and why you’re having a problem with the idea. If everything is in the open, you’ll find your relationship easier. When can we meet her?”
“It’s early days,” Frank said, coming to his rescue. “Give Connor a chance. I’m sure he’ll bring his friend to visit when he’s ready.”
His mother nodded. “Personally, I think the All Blacks will give the Springboks a whopping and send them back to South Africa with their tails between their legs. We’ll win the rugby match by at least twenty points. I’d place good money on it.”
Connor grinned. “How much do you want to bet?”
“Twenty,” his mother shot back. “And a promise you’ll bring your young lady to visit.”
Connor’s grin faded as he acknowledged the problems lying between him and a future with Maggie. Lies. Lots of lies. A good man would’ve left well alone, but Connor admitted the truth to himself. He wouldn’t have done a thing differently. He and Maggie worked well together. They could have a future. All he had to do was prove it to her.
Chapter Eight
“A speed dating event,” Connor said with a distinct lack of enthusiasm.
Susan tossed her head. “You don’t have to go. Guys have an easier time meeting women to date,” she added. “But, I need all the help I can get. I want to find a man and settle down. I want to have children, and I’m running out of time.”
They stared at her, and she met their glances with one of quiet determination.
Maggie hadn’t realized Susan wanted children so bad. She risked a quick glance at Connor and found him studying her.
“I hope this maternal cluckiness isn’t catchy,” Julia said into the distinct uneasiness that had overtaken them after Susan’s outburst.
“I refuse to apologize,” Susan said, studying her fingernails. She tucked her hands on her lap and lifted her chin. “Besides, my mother is driving me nuts. My sisters are married. She’s convinced my ovaries will wither, and I’ll die an old spinster.”
“I hope you told her to butt out,” Julia said.
Susan issued a loud sigh. “She means well. And I do want to get married.”
“That doesn’t mean you should settle for second best,” Christina said. “Mr. Right doesn’t always come along straight away.”
“Look, I’m sorry. Forget I said anything.” Susan forced a smile.
“We don’t expect you to apologize,” Maggie said. “You can’t help how you feel.”
“The speed dating was a suggestion. I’m attending and thought it might be fun if we all went.”
Maggie felt bad for Susan. Wanting security and a child wasn’t so different from wanting to find a man to spank her. Deep down she wanted the same things as Susan—security with a man who loved her.
“I’ll go with you,” she said. “It sounds like fun.”
Connor looked as if he might argue, and Maggie glared at him.
“I’m in,” Julia said, breaking the uncomfortable silence. “It will make a change from drinks at the pub.”
“Sign me up too,” Connor said.
“Really?” Maggie asked.
“Yeah, really. Susan is my friend and I want to support her.” Connor’s voice held a trace of defensiveness. “When is it?”
“Are you trying to weasel out of it?” Maggie asked in suspicion.
“No, it’s my mother’s birthday coming up. If it clashes with the speed dating, I’ll have to pass.”
It was the first Maggie had heard of his mother’s birthday. She blinked against a sudden surge of moisture to her eyes. Her throat tightened, and she swallowed to dispel the sensation. Despite reminding herself she and Connor were casual lovers, she couldn’t stop the possessive thoughts filling her mind. She wasn’t even looking for another lover. Connor had spoiled her, and every other man came up lacking in comparison.
But she wanted to do normal couple things. The sneaking around had lost its excitement.
“It’s next week. Thursday night at eight,” Susan said.
Christina checked her calendar. “Works for me.”
“My mother’s birthday is on Saturday,” Connor said.
“What about rugby practice?” Maggie asked.
“We have a bye this weekend.” Connor picked up his beer and took a sip. “There’s no training this week.”
Maggie crossed her legs. “I’m free.” She noticed Connor watched the move, his gaze lingering on the expanse of thigh displayed by her new skirt. Connor hadn’t been the only one paying attention. She received requests for dates from two of the lawyers at the firm next to them. Greg also continued to ask her out, despite her firm negative answers.
Maggie stood with a wince and covered a wide yawn with her hand. “I’m heading home. Someone decided I needed to change my workout. If anyone tells you to take up running to vary an exercise routine, sprint far and fast in the opposite direction. My thighs are killing me.”
Connor smirked. “Poor baby.”
The other women grinned.
“You wouldn’t catch me running,” Julia said.
“You don’t have to battle weight like I do. I think about a dark, moist and decadent chocolate brownie and weight sticks to my thighs and butt.” Maggie sniffed at their derisive laughter. “I’m off to soak in the bath.”
Connor stood. “I’ll walk you out.”
“Night,” Julia said, lifting her right hand in a casual wave. “Anyone for another drink? We could split a bottle of wine.”
“Sounds good,” Christina said. “I’ll buy. I’ve taken on two makeover clients this week. Retirement from Barker & Johnson is looking better every day.”
“Congratulations, Christina. I’ll see you at rugby tomorrow.” With a quick wave Maggie followed Connor from the crowded bar.
Outside, he took her arm, holding her against his side to combat the swirl of icy wind.
“Come home with me,” he said.
“I don’t know,” Maggie said, fighting temptation. “We have work tomorrow and I am sore after running.” She also wanted to check her blog for comments. So far, most of her visitors had said the same thing. She needed to talk to her partner. Easier said than done. The last thing she wanted was to scare away Connor. Besides, what happened if he met someone else and their friends with benefits deal ended? What would happen to her then?
“Doctor Connor to the rescue. I know just the thing to fix sore muscles.”
He wrapped his arm around her waist and led her to his SUV. Maggie fought her conscience for about two seconds before meekly allowing him to seat her in the passenger seat. She watched him as he jogged around the front of the vehicle. As usual, he was smiling, his dark looks making her heart clench with longing. She wished Susan hadn’t brought up babies. She’d love to have children. One day. A sigh escaped and she leaned her head back against the headrest, letting her eyes close. She hadn’t lied when she’d said her body throbbed in one big ache. This jogging lark was killing her. She needed her head read. How had she ever thought running was a good idea?
Connor started the SUV and Maggie let herself drift.
“Wake up, babe. We’re at my apartment.”
“Sorry. I must have fallen asleep.” Self-consciously, she stretched and fumbled for the seatbelt. “I didn’t snore, did I?”
“Yeah, you did. The cutest little sound.”
“You’re making that up.”
“You’ll never know, will you?” Connor brushed the tip of her nose with his finger. “Come on. We’ll get you in the shower before you fall asleep again.”
Maggie climbed out the vehicle, grimacing and mumbling under her breath about running and people who should know better. “I wanted a bath. Don’t you have a bath?”
“I never said I had a bath,” Connor corrected. “I said I have something better. Come on, limpy-gimpy. Let’s get you inside.”
“If you think you’re gonna get lucky tonight, you’d better rethink your plans,” Maggie snappe
d. Damn, it hurt to walk. She would never jog again. Only stupid people ran. Fools and idiots.
“I’m not a complete moron.” Connor’s face darkened, and she glanced away, biting her bottom lip in consternation. Even her conscience was working against her, trying to do the right thing and push him away.
Without another word he led her into his apartment. His roommates weren’t home, although Maggie smelled curry spices and noticed a basketball and a sweatshirt tossed over the back of a chair. At least one of his roommates had been here recently.
Connor chucked his keys on the countertop and shunted her down the passage to the small bathroom. Reaching in, he flipped on the tap and waited until the water ran hot.
“Get in and warm up,” he said, leaving her alone.
Maggie shrugged out of her clothes, wincing and groaning when she lifted her legs to remove her pantyhose. Horrid things. Maybe she’d try stockings—some of those thigh-high ones that didn’t require a garter belt. Leaving her clothes on a heap in the floor, she pulled back the shower curtain and stepped inside. For long moments, she stood under the water, soaking in the heat.
With a sigh, she reached for the soap and cleansed her body, driving out the last of the chill caused by the winter winds that had swirled across the city of Auckland.
“All done?” Connor asked.
Maggie turned off the shower and stepped out, shivering when the cold air hit her wet skin.
“Feel better?”
“Not really.” Maggie wished she’d followed her instincts and gone home.
Connor approached her with a large blue towel and dried her briskly.
“I can do it,” she protested, trying to grab the towel.
“You can,” he said, resisting. “But I want to do it for you.”
Once he’d dried her, he led her to his bedroom. While she’d been in the shower, he’d closed the curtains and drawn back the blankets on the bed. Only one bedside lamp lit the room, shadows playing across walls when they entered.
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