WEAKENED: The Manhattan Bound Series Book One

by Juliet Braddock

  “This…oh…!” With a start, she stood up, moving the table slightly and tried to reach her short arms out to hug him. “I love you, Ben…oh, I have to call your parents and thank them, too. Oh, Ben!”

  “Stop it, and enjoy it!” he said, rounding the table to hug her properly in return. “Now come on, Captain Kirk, we’ve got some cash to burn—before your big date tonight.”

  Chapter Nine

  “Judy loved you in navy and red,” Ben said as he began to empty the evidence of their shopping spree all over Maxine’s room, carelessly tossing the infamous Big Brown Bags all over the floor and scattering tissue paper about the bed. He didn’t care. He was on a mission to dress Maxine to the nines…even if she wanted to kill him before he’d finished.

  “I wore navy last night, and red is far too presumptuous,” she said, dazed by the amount of stuff they’d brought home.

  From the restaurant, they had only a short walk to Bloomingdale's, which left Maxine overwhelmed once again. While Ben seemed to know the store with innate precision, the seemingly endless rows of counters and racks of clothes just boggled Maxine's thoughts. In fact, she couldn't even think about what she wanted to buy—let alone try anything on—with this sea of limitless options. Ben took charge of the situation and led her to the appropriate departments, then proceeded to pile a mound of his selections for his best friend into her arms. Skirts. Blouses. Pants. Dresses. Maxine was in pain from the load she carried before she even managed to step into the fitting room.

  What seemed like hours later, they emerged from the store, exhausted and carrying too many shopping bags.

  However, Maxine fretted as she had yet the chance to check her e-mail and knew she had a rather important note awaiting her response from Drew.

  TO: Maxine Kirk

  FROM: Drew McKenzie

  DATE: September 13, 2014, 1:01 PM

  SUBJECT: Tonight

  Maxine:

  As per our discussion this morning, I shall arrive at your apartment at precisely eight o’clock. Destination: TBA.

  You must dress warmly, and you must—please—wear comfortable shoes. Your compliance is not requested but required for our outing this evening.

  You may phone or e-mail me with any questions or concerns.

  Understood?

  Fondly,

  Drew

  Maxine couldn't help but to feel a bit disappointed by the formality of his writing. He reduced their date—or outing, as he described it himself—to a business meeting, for all intents and purposes, when he'd promised her some fun. There was, however, something about his use of the word “fondly” that did strike her heart. In spite of his overtones, he slipped just a bit and allowed some emotion to filter through. Perhaps there was hope for him yet.

  Never one to back away from a challenge, Maxine hit “reply.”

  TO: Drew McKenzie

  FROM: Maxine Kirk

  DATE: September 13, 2014, 4:01 PM

  SUBJECT: Our Outing

  Dear Mr. McKenzie:

  In light of your recent e-mail, your orders have been duly noted.

  As I just went shopping this afternoon and hit some major sales at this place that you New Yorkers call Bloomies, I have not one single clue as to what I'm wearing yet this evening. However, I will heed your admonition with caution.

  I shall be waiting promptly at eight, post meridiem, for your arrival, and I anticipate your itinerary, as yet to be announced.

  Cordially,

  Maxine

  “Cordially?” Ben coughed.

  “Are you reading over my shoulder?” she accused, glaring with those green eyes.

  Posturing, Ben took a step back and crossed his arms while he clutched one of her newest fashion finds in his hands. “No…” Unable to mask his giggles—or his outright lie—he doubled over and retorted with, “Yeh-hesss…”

  “Benjamin Alan Worthington!” she bellowed, certain that the maid preparing dinner in the kitchen in the townhouse on the opposite side of their small yard could hear her through the slightly open window.

  “Well, at least ‘cordial’ implies some drinking—you’re suggesting some fine liqueurs this evening,” Ben rambled on. “Some schnapps, maybe? A little fuzzy navel…then you’ll play, ‘I’ll show you my navel if you show me yours…’ And then he pounds the fucking shit out of your virginity, and all will be right with the world come Sunday morning—and I mean come Sunday morning—after you launder the bloody sheets…”

  Grabbing his ears, Maxine pulled rather roughly while she nearly collapsed from her laughter. “Stop!” Yup. She was sure the neighbors all heard that one, echoing across the yard from her open window and resounding on all sides. “And how would you know about bloody sheets? Have you ever made love to a girl?”

  “Only to Gaga in my thoughts…” he muttered. “And she made me her whipping boy. And we…”

  “BEN…!”

  “I was getting to the part about why the sheets were bloody,” he explained, holding his jaw so still that she might believe he wasn’t laughing. “She beat my ass. With a three-inch thick wooden paddle. Then poured salt all over me. And I asked her for more…as I washed the fucking sheets…”

  “I hate you…”

  “You love me, Captain…”

  “Bitch…” she spat, now ready to break into another fit of hilarity.

  “Bastard…” he retorted. “Now tell me which fucking dress you’re wearing this evening…”

  Decisions, decisions! But her e-mail interrupted them again.

  TO: Maxine Kirk

  FROM: Drew McKenzie

  DATE: September 13, 2014, 4:22 PM

  SUBJECT: Bloomers

  Divine Ms. M –

  How about you skip them?

  Sincerely,

  DM

  The doorbell suddenly brought Maxine and Ben both to reality, as she stared blankly at the e-mail. No panties? Is that what he meant? No panties?

  “Who the hell is here?” Ben muttered dropping her dress as his feet padded along the hardwood floor. “Shit, I hope it’s not my parents…”

  As Ben rushed off to answer, Maxine murmured softly, “Dress warmly...no panties…and comfortable shoes…and no panties…and…how…to keep warm…with no panties?”

  “Oh, Maxinnnnne…” Ben called out from the kitchen. “Come hither…”

  “Wait a minute, will you?” She had to answer Drew!

  “No...now…”

  Feet pounding, she marched out to find Ben, flanked by two delivery guys and countless bags filled with groceries placed on the chessboard floor.

  “You,” Ben pointed his finger, “are gonna help me put all this shit away…”

  “What is it?”

  Passing her the card that arrived with the delivery, he simply said, “Drew!”

  Maxine and Ben –

  Bon appetit!

  Cooking for Dummies will be delivered shortly.

  In good food,

  Drew

  “He did not just do our grocery shopping for us…”

  “Apparently, he did…” Ben said, surveying the order as he tried to figure out where the hell to begin.

  “Should I be angry?” Maxine asked.

  “Uh…no, you should thank him.”

  “Then will you put this stuff away while I attend to my e-mails?” she asked, batting her lashes.

  “Yeah…I guess…” he sighed and seethed. “But just wear the green dress—brings out your eyes!”

  TO: Drew McKenzie

  FROM: Maxine Kirk

  DATE: September 13, 2014, 4:58 PM

  SUBJECT: Of Pantries and Panties…

  Dear Drew,

  First, thank you so much for the generous gift that has filled our fridge and cabinets. I believe Ben and I shall both eat well for the immediate future.

  Second…a clarification. I appreciate your request regarding my underwear situation for this evening, but wasn't it you who told me that I should bundle up? I fear that a draft might
give me a chill since I have since chosen to wear my new dress.

  Please advise while I shower.

  Gratefully,

  M.

  She had exactly three hours to get ready, and she guessed that it would take at least that long to make herself look presentable.

  Stepping into the shower, she closed her eyes and allowed the strong stream to relax her. In truth, she'd never thought much about masturbation before that morning. Of course, she'd dabbled in it, usually with clips of Drew streaming on YouTube. At that moment, though, she wanted to desperately slip her hand between her legs and just give herself some relief because he'd likely tease her to the point of madness later. However, she stopped herself, fearing that Drew might have made good on his promise and installed security cameras while she was out that afternoon with Ben. Ridiculous, yes, but she didn't doubt him. She’d also discovered that she enjoyed this touch of fear that he’d instilled in her.

  Perhaps that was all part of an effort to enhance her desire for him, but all the while she cursed her frustration as she pondered the thought of leaving the house without her underwear! So much for that cute little Dita Von Teese thong and matching bra set that Ben helped her to choose that afternoon. She should have checked her e-mail before they went shopping. Oh, well. Perhaps she’d wear them for him another night.

  After wrapping herself in a giant, fluffy bath sheet, she returned immediately to her phone and smiled.

  TO: Maxine Kirk

  FROM: Drew McKenzie

  DATE: September 13, 2014, 5:29 PM

  SUBJECT: Crotchless in Manhattan

  Little one –

  Just to be clear: Panties are a no-no this evening.

  However, even in a dress, I doubt you’ll be too cold.

  I’ll see you at eight. Meanwhile, I remain ever jealous of your shower stall walls right now.

  Patiently,

  Drew

  Temptation to pen one last note crossed her mind, but she had to blow out her hair, do her make-up—redo her make-up because she knew in advance that she’d make a mess with her mascara—get her handbag together, dress in the clothes that she was permitted to wear...

  “Crotchless in Manhattan…” she giggled as she rubbed her thighs together. “This is shaping up to be one interesting evening…”

  # # #

  Those eyes, dark like the midnight ocean, studied her as she stepped out the door at exactly seven-fifty-nine, while Ben stood behind her in the foyer. “Make me proud, Cap, but don’t make me an uncle…”

  As she pulled her trench coat tighter around her, Maxine trembled and felt the steady beat of her heart while she attempted to discern Drew’s thoughts. His gaze glossed over her hair that hung loosely at her shoulders, then caught the dip of her cowl neckline of the meadow green Ralph Lauren dress she’d found on the clearance rack. Down her legs, he followed the curve of her calves to her feet, and then he stopped and looked up at her with a smile. She’d worn her nude ballerina flats, just as she promised she would.

  “Beautiful,” he whispered as he climbed the steps to take her hand. “How are you this evening?”

  Speechless again, she allowed him to lead her toward the waiting car.

  “You kids have fun tonight,” Ben called out. “I’ll see you both for breakfast in the morning. Same kitchen, same time…”

  “He loves to tease you, doesn’t he?” Drew mused as he helped her in the car. Once again, his deft, long fingers worked her seatbelt and fastened her in for the ride.

  And what a ride, she thought, this was certainly going to be...

  First, though, Maxine took note of the driver. Drew had mentioned something about having a personal chauffeur, but the thought left her mind as soon as the words fell from his lips. She had far too many other things to think about.

  “Lou Correnzo, meet Maxine Kirk,” Drew introduced them.

  Lou was a large man, whom Maxine guessed had doubled as Drew’s private security detail as well, with short black hair and dark brown eyes. Probably in his late thirties, he hailed from Brooklyn—Bay Ridge, to be precise—and he was a proud native to the city.

  “Good to meet you, Miss Kirk,” he turned around for one moment to greet her, and then returned his focus to the wheel and the road.

  Before Maxine could answer Lou or really make herself comfortable, she felt Drew's hand creeping inside her coat at her knee and sliding slowly up the inside of her thigh, skimming over her soft, warm flesh. Halfway, he stopped to punctuate his efforts with a circular caress, and then continued to sneak upward.

  Her lips fell open in both shock and desire, and much to her surprise, she opened her legs a bit to afford him better access. She kept her eyes on Lou, who seemed oblivious to what was going on in the backseat as he pulled into the Saturday evening traffic and minded the cars around him on Park Avenue.

  Paralyzed by the fear that Lou could turn around at any second—or even get a good look in the rearview mirror—Maxine held her breath. The thrill of possibly getting caught was indeed delicious, but Maxine knew she could never face that man again if he dared to peep.

  And while she thought that Drew was crazy for this temptation of fate, this intoxicating dance into which he led her left her absolutely captivated.

  Her shallow breaths audible between them, Maxine spoke not a word as his fingers continued to seek. She knew what his motive was—to see if she'd heeded his instructions. Rolling her tongue along her upper lip, she shifted as his thumb dragged over her clit, sparking an almost painful shot of arousal that claimed her in its wake.

  Just as easily, he slipped his hand away and brought his mouth to her ear. “Good girl,” he whispered. “And I like that you didn’t make a single sound. That’s important.”

  “Thank you…”

  “Thank you…?”

  Her dress suddenly felt a little too tight, and she rubbed her thighs together once more. “Thank you, Sir…”

  “Excellent…” he said, leaning back in his seat. “Now relax and let's enjoy this evening, shall we?”

  And that was it—one slow, delirious tease and he was finished with her. Perhaps, she hoped, he’d have his way with her later.

  Oh, how her life was changing…

  One week ago, she sat at a local pizza dive with her dad, both of them seeking to hide their underlying sadness over her departure. As they downed a couple of beers over a light conversation, they systematically avoided that elephant in the room. They laughed over the good times, and they shared their fondest recollections of Judy. Meanwhile, Maxine held her worries inside for just one night to leave them both with a happy memory before she boarded her bus. Those precious times with her dad would be so few and far between now, and she still wondered if he'd make good on his promise to visit. She'd already spoken to him numerous times since her arrival, but that didn't shorten the distance between them now.

  Sometimes, she wished he'd meet someone—a fabulous woman who would sweep him off his feet—just to ease the loneliness in his life. But Thomas Kirk was true to one woman throughout his entire adult lifetime, and Judy's absence couldn't be filled so easily.

  Drew throttled her from her reverie when he asked, “Do you have any idea where we are right now, Maxine?”

  She had to smile as she peered out the tinted windows of the luxury sedan. “Yeah, I do…”

  “Have you been here before?” he asked, his voice suddenly filled with an almost boyish excitement. “Inside, I mean…”

  “No, in fact,” she began, “my mother preferred to trek off the beaten path when we were here together.”

  “Well, then, I’m glad I’m first to see it with you,” he took her hand and helped her out of the car. “Look up.”

  The Empire State Building rose so majestically from the sidewalks into the orange autumn sky above them, its grand old beauty topped by a blaze of white lights. There were tourists on every side, pointing their cameras and phones upward into the clouds, just for the perfect shot of this New York landm
ark. Maxine couldn’t help but to immerse herself in their excitement. Everything in the city, even after having visited so often over the years, seemed new to Maxine again as she took in the sights with Drew.

  “We are going to the top?” she asked, an almost childlike smile playing over her lips. “Right?”

  When he returned her smile, Maxine thought she just might melt. “We are indeed, little one. Now if you’ll just follow me...”

  Chapter Ten

  “ Wow!”

  The jubilation in Maxine’s voice mirrored the wonderment that spread over her face. She wasn’t necessarily flabbergasted by the ultimate view of Manhattan one-hundred-and-two stories above the city. What left her stunned is that they were absolutely, positively, completely alone.

  Soft music played off in the distance, just heightening the intimacy of the scene before her eyes. Bryan Ferry, she thought it was. Judy loved him. There was a small round table covered with a heavy linen cloth with two cafe chairs. A bottle of Dom Pérignon sat in a heavy pewter ice bucket, flanked by two crystal champagne flutes and a platter of fruits.

  “OK…how did you manage to pull this off?” she finally asked. “Do you own the building?”

  The moment she'd uttered the words, she wanted to take them right back. He'd just arranged a private soiree for two on top of one of the world's biggest tourist attractions—with only hours to plan and pull off on a Saturday night, nonetheless—and she could think of nothing else to say! She cursed herself as she recalled her weak personal promise to keep her cool and to maintain her wits that evening.

  Drew’s chuckle was low, almost sensual as it rolled from his throat. “No, Maxine. I do not, unfortunately, own this building.”