Secret Lovers (Friendship Chronicles Book 1)

by Shelley Munro

  Toast. He was bloody toast if he uttered those words. She wouldn’t believe him for one and she’d run a mile. To preserve his dignity and keep an in with Maggie, he dipped his head to kiss her breast, sucking her peak into his mouth.

  She bucked at the sensations, groaned, and on his next stroke shattered, spilling over into climax, her pussy clutching greedily at his cock. He held off for as long as he could, wanting to prolong the pleasure. He lasted three strokes before he lost it, spilling his seed into her and losing his heart completely.

  Chapter Thirteen

  I did it.

  I’m an official member of the spanking club.

  Did my first experience meet my expectations? Hell, yeah. It met and surpassed them. It was such a shock too. My lover took me by surprise, punishing me because I arrived late to our rendezvous.

  I’d decided to bring up the subject of spanking, without fail during this date. No wimping! His wonderful surprise removed the need for an embarrassing discussion. That’s weird, right? Kink excites me, yet I can’t discuss it with my man.

  I guess that makes me human.

  We all have things that matter to us, things we don’t tell our friends or partners. Sometimes it’s because of past experiences—I can attest to that—or we’ve told lies and hate for our friends to think less of us.

  Fear of change. Fear of the future.

  Plain fear.

  Now I need to tell my lover I’d like spankings on a regular basis. I won’t have a problem there—it’s a case of telling him I enjoyed it the first time and would like a repeat. He’s probably worked it out already because the sex was the hottest it’s ever been between us. We couldn’t get enough of each other, and I can’t wait to kiss and touch him again.

  How was your first spanking? Did it leave you wanting more or did you hate the experience and never try it again?

  Maggie listened to the buzz at work with half her mind, the rest centered on Connor. She’d thought about him all morning and had him to thank for the distinctly damp panties. She reached for a coffee cup and waited for her turn at the coffee machine.

  “Man, did you read the latest post on the spanking blog? She did it. She let her lover spank her and enjoyed it,” a man said behind her.

  Maggie wasn’t sure how to react, whether to turn and glare at the man or pretend she hadn’t heard.

  “That is so fuckin’ hot,” one of his friends said. “It makes the plain old vanilla stuff my girlfriend and I do seem tame.”

  “Nothing hot about it,” another scoffed. “It’s sick. Why would she want a man to hit her? She’s playing games and the minute he does something she doesn’t like she’ll turn crazy and report him to the cops.”

  Maggie clenched her cup harder, biting her inner cheek to stem the flaying retort on the tip of her tongue. He had no right to judge. Her bedroom activities were none of his business. Yes, he had a right to an opinion, but he shouldn’t force it on everyone else. She poured her coffee, pausing to add milk before returning to her table.

  None of the others had arrived for morning tea yet and she sipped her coffee, staring out the window at the Auckland harbor bridge and the moored yachts at Westhaven marina. A flock of gulls rode the air currents and the flag on the top of the bridge fluttered in the wind. She was too far away to identify the flag of the day, but it was red, yellow and green.

  The conversation of the women sitting at the table next to hers registered. Spanking. Of course. Why shouldn’t the girls in the secretarial department have an opinion as well?

  “She’s submissive,” one said.

  “And that’s a problem because?” another secretary asked. “I don’t know about you, but by the time I get through my day, make decisions for the kids, decide what to have for dinner, what to wear and the hundred other things I have to do, I don’t want to take control in the bedroom. I like my husband to order me around.”

  A woman laughed. “Does he spank you?”

  Maggie expected the woman to deny everything. She listened while trying to appear caught up in the view.

  “No, but only because he hasn’t thought of it. I’m not averse to experimentation. There’s nothing worse than going through the motions in bed.”

  “Hey,” Connor said, sliding into the seat beside her. He smiled and she warmed all over. “Are you okay?” He slipped his hand over hers and squeezed lightly before letting go.

  “I’m fine. More than fine,” she said, instantly catapulted back to the weekend when she met his direct gaze while they made love. “Although I’m feeling bare. It’s a weird sensation. I like it.”

  Connor chuckled. “I know the feeling. I loved touching and kissing that pretty, soft pink skin of yours. Can you meet me tonight at my apartment? I have rugby training first and won’t be home until after nine. Is that okay?”

  “I can’t wait,” Maggie whispered, trying to tell him without words how much she wanted to be with him again. “Everyone is talking about the spanking blog. Is that where you got the idea from?”

  Connor hesitated and nodded. He started to speak, but Julia, Susan and Christina arrived and interrupted their conversation.

  “Did you have a good weekend?” Susan asked.

  Maggie swallowed, understanding from her tone Susan still had reservations about her mystery lover. She bit back her flare of irritation, reminding herself her friend had suffered at the hands of her previous lover. It had colored her perceptions, so she’d cut Susan a break. She and Connor needed to take care or their friends would catch them. Then, there would be trouble.

  “Yes, I did.” Keep it simple. No need to go into unnecessary details. “How about you?”

  “I painted,” Susan said. “Look what I found in one of the ladies magazines. I thought I’d ask your opinions. I’m not sure if I should apply or not.” She handed over two loose pages for them to read.

  Country Men Seek A Wife.

  The Country Women’s Weekly is seeking a few good women for our lovely country bachelors. Our men are farmers, raised on the land and ready to settle with an adaptable woman.

  All applicants must be single and provide a recent photo. They must also agree to take part in a reality show documentary for the duration of the contest. Complete the application form by 31 August. We will contact successful applicants with relevant details prior to 30 November, ready for filming to commence in late summer.

  “Well, what do you think?” Susan demanded after a few minutes.

  Julia laughed. “A reality show. I like it.”

  “Give me a chance to read it first.” Connor drew the article closer and scanned it rapidly.

  “You don’t like the country,” Christina said. “You hate getting your hands dirty.”

  “It’s true I’m a city girl, but that doesn’t mean I can’t live in the country,” Susan said, her shoulders tensing in a combatant mode. ‘I can do anything I set my mind to. Besides, my speed dates were disasters. I met the last one for coffee at the weekend. I’m certain he wanted a mother figure—someone to boss him around and tell him what to do and when. Not my type.”

  “I think you should go for it,” Maggie said. “There’s nothing in the rules to say you have to marry the guy.”

  “It’s a chance to meet different men,” Christina said. “Maybe that’s what we both need. I’ll enter if you will. That’s if you’d like company.”

  Susan beamed. “Deal. I’ll print out two application forms. Maybe we could get started on them tonight?”

  “Come around to my place,” Julia said. “I’ll provide the wine.”

  “I have rugby training,” Connor said. “If we win this week, we’re in the quarter-finals. Coach wants an extra session.”

  “It was a great game on Saturday,” Maggie said. “I’m going to the next game cheering on the team. You guys should have been there. Connor had a great game and scored a try.”

  “Why didn’t you ring me?” Julia asked. “I would have gone with you.”

  Shoot. “I�
��um…was busy for most of Saturday. I needed fresh air and went for a drive. I ended up at the rugby…” Weak. The truth—Connor had dropped her off a block away and she’d walked across the park to the rugby grounds. They’d met up later at the hotel and ordered room service, not emerging from the hotel until their late checkout the next day.

  “Can you come tonight?” Julia asked. “Or are you going to be busy?”

  The girls stared at her, the silent accusation bringing a wave of guilt. She hated this part of her relationship with Connor, the secrecy and sneaking around.

  “There’s some sort of family crisis about my father and stepmother’s upcoming anniversary. I promised my stepsister I’d be at home at nine so she could ring me. I can stay until about half eight. Is that okay?” Lies. Not good. She was getting good at them. There was a lot of discussion about the anniversary—namely her father didn’t want a big celebration and her stepmother did. She wasn’t lying about that. But she wasn’t telling the truth, either.

  Susan smiled at her—genuine excitement lighting her face. “I’m not sure I should be so excited about this. I might not even get picked, but from the moment I saw the ad, I’ve had this feeling.”

  “A question,” Connor said. “What’s wrong with meeting a man in the normal way?”

  Christina blinked and Maggie bit back a smile when Susan’s mouth gaped. Julia’s eyes twinkled with suppressed laughter, and Maggie waited because Connor had just dug himself a hole. He hadn’t realized it yet.

  “What normal ways?” Christina asked.

  Maggie watched wariness creep over Connor’s face, saw the minute he realized his innocent question had peeled off scabs and released bad memories.

  “At work or at the pub.” He offered a weak smile before he turned his gaze on Maggie and Julia with a silent plea for help.

  “Men are pigs,” Susan said. “They only want one thing, and that’s to learn how fast they can get their dick in a girl’s panties. I’m tired of fending off drunken idiots only interested in sex. I want a man interested in a future with me, having a family. Is that so much to ask?” Her voice broke toward the end of her rant and tears shone in her eyes.

  Maggie swallowed, trying to rid her throat of the lump of emotion Susan’s impassioned words had caused. She reached across the table for her friend’s hand and squeezed it. “You deserve happiness, Susan, and we’ll support you in this contest. Anything you need. We’ll be there for you. Right?” She glanced at her other friends.

  “Yes,” Julia said. “We’ll drum up votes or whatever they do on those shows.”

  “Hell, Susan,” Connor said. “I’m sorry. You’re right. Men are pigs. We take longer to grow up and think playing the field is fun.”

  “You don’t want responsibility,” Christina said in a sharp voice. “We’re not blind to your faults, Connor. You’re not as bad as the rest of the guys, even if you do like leggy blondes.”

  Maggie’s stomach pitched and fear settled over her, squeezing her lungs like a tight elastic band. She wasn’t Connor’s type. She knew this. She’d always known it but had agreed to act as his fuck buddy.

  They had no future.

  She accepted it and while her head went with the program, her heart produced romantic plans of happy-ever-after. She perched on the edge of a precipice and the only way off was down, down, down.

  “I didn’t realize I’d need to write a novel to enter this contest,” Christina whined.

  Maggie grinned at her peeved tone. They’d ended up at Susan’s flat after work, and now, three hours later, they were still completing the forms for Susan and Christina. Two empty wine bottles stood on the kitchen counter, and Julia was busy opening a third.

  Papers covered the kitchen table, and Susan’s pale face told Maggie she was as tired and as dispirited as Christina.

  “Almost done,” Maggie said. “All you need to do is write the essay saying why you want to marry a farmer and what you bring to the partnership.”

  “An essay.” Susan groaned. “It’s like being back at school. I hated essays.”

  “Me too,” Christina said. “This is hard. I don’t want to do it anymore.”

  Julia topped up their wine glasses. “Don’t be wimps. Man up and write that essay.”

  Maggie snorted. “Is this where we spout sayings like, ‘Save a horse. Ride a cowboy’?”

  “Works for me,” Susan said. “I’d love to ride a cowboy. Do they have cowboys on New Zealand farms?”

  “Yeah, we’re not in Kansas now,” Christina said, reaching for her wine. She missed and almost knocked over her glass.

  “Whoa,” Maggie said with a laugh. “No more wine until we eat. Focus. Yes, we have cowboys in New Zealand. Haven’t either of you been to a rodeo before?”

  Susan shook her head. “No.”

  “An agricultural show?” Julia asked.

  “No,” Christina said.

  Maggie and Julia glanced at each other and traded eye rolls and funny faces.

  “City girls.” Maggie tsk-tsked. “This is gonna be so much fun. Let’s work on those essays. I want you both chosen so I can watch the reality show for a long time.”

  “Who do you want? Susan or Christina?” Julia’s eyes widened and a wicked grin spread across her face. “How about a wager to sweeten the pot?”

  “Dinner and a hotel room at Whites?” Maggie laughed and muffled the sound with her hand.

  “Done. A romantic night with the man of my choice. Works for me.” Julia’s giggle set Maggie off and they laughed so hard they clutched each other to stand.

  “I’m glad the pair of you thinks this is funny,” Susan said in a stern voice.

  Maggie noticed her lips twitched and Christina’s mouth pursed. She looked as if she wanted to laugh but was trying not to on principle.

  “I’ll take Susan,” Maggie said.

  “Christina, we will beat them,” Julia said, wiping the tears of laughter from her eyes. “We’ll wipe the floor with them.”

  “There are six farmers up for grabs,” Susan said. “More than enough to go around.”

  “Not if I’m aiming to grab two.” Christina glanced at Julia. “Tell me you’re a whiz at English.”

  “Two?” Susan asked in a faint voice.

  “I’m a whiz at English,” Julia said.

  Christina brightened. “Really?”

  “No. I barely passed, but I have a wager on the line. I respond well to a challenge.”

  “We’re doomed,” Christina muttered. “Doomed. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have been greedy and asked for two men in my Christmas stocking. I knew I was pushing it. I knew it. This is fate screwing with me.”

  Maggie glanced at Julia. Julia made a hiccupping sound and they were off again, laughing so hard they ended up on the floor.

  “I need food,” Susan said. “I have lasagna in the freezer.” She stood and strode to the upright freezer. A blast of cold air hit Maggie when Susan opened her freezer.

  She grabbed two containers and turned on the oven. The fan whirred as it dispersed heat. Fifteen minutes later, the rich scent of herbs and meat wafted through the kitchen.

  “What we need to do is use honesty,” Maggie said to Susan.

  “Right,” Julia said. “We’ll use honesty. That’s the way to go. Can’t go wrong if you come across as sincere and authentic. Farmers like those qualities.”

  “You know this from experience?” Maggie asked. “How many farmers do you know?”

  “I know men,” Julia said in a lofty tone, waving her right hand in a dismissive flap. “All men are putty if you tell them what they want to hear. If you can make that truthful all the better.”

  Maggie’s smile died. She knew that from experience with Connor. Even though she’d had feelings for him, sentiments that had grown stronger, she’d pretended differently, telling him what he’d wanted to hear. She glanced at her watch. Almost time to go. Maybe she should call and tell Connor she couldn’t meet with him tonight. Maybe she should stay wit
h her friends and return to the way things used to be.

  “Maggie, stop looking at your watch. You’re not going anywhere until my essay is done and you’ve eaten,” Susan said.

  Maggie pushed aside her qualms to concentrate on Susan. “You know what you need to do with your essay. Write down what you want in a man and why you’re entering this contest. Go for truth. Tell them you’re grumpy in the mornings until you get a cup of coffee, tell them you’re snappy if you get overtired. Tell them you’re a loyal friend, you’re not frightened of trying new things and open to new experiences. And tell them you’re an awesome cook and love children.”

  “Christina, what Maggie said,” Julia said with a nod. She picked up a pen and jotted notes. “Don’t tell them you dream about two men because it sounds plain greedy. Most of us have trouble finding one.”

  “All of us have trouble finding one man,” Maggie said with a heartfelt sigh.

  Christina’s bracelets jingled as she tapped her pen on the tabletop. “Yeah, you’d think with our mod-cons finding a mate would be easy. If anything it seems harder for modern women.”

  Susan nodded. “I’ve been thinking about this a lot. I think it’s because women are conditioned to want a mate, to have children. That part of us hasn’t changed. We’re also programmed with ambition, told we can be anything, anyone. The Prime Minister, a lawyer, an astronaut or scientist. These things take time and it saps our femininity in the eyes of some men. At heart, they want to protect and provide. They don’t want to stay home and look after kids, so in defense, they play the field. They sow their wild oats.”

  “Don’t you think that’s cynical? Not all men are like that,” Maggie said, not liking the pessimistic picture Susan painted.

  “Oh, yeah? Then why did you break up with Greg? He wanted you to stay home and play the little wife. Right?” Susan scanned their expressions before turning her attention back to Maggie. “That’s why we’re all in our late twenties with not a husband in sight. There’s nothing wrong with us. There are no eligible men available.”

  Julia shook her head, setting her blonde locks in motion with the vigorous movement. “Wow, you have thought about this.”