* * * *
Maggie laid her head on her desk; her eyes closed and sighed heavily. She was exhausted. It’d been a week since her fight with Spencer, and she had yet to see him. And sleep had been an elusive bitch as a result.
She’d gone to the apartment, called him a few times. He’d finally returned her call late a couple nights ago. The phone call had been far from warm, but he’d assured her he wasn’t avoiding her. He’d been going back and forth between home and the Cities most days, preparing for his show.
He’d asked her how she was. She’d lied and said fine. Then there was the fabulously awkward silence before he said he had to go. Right before the click ending the call, he’d said softly, “I miss you, Maggie.”
“I miss you too,” she whispered now to the empty room. And God, she did. So much it hurt.
Straightening, she glanced at the clock. It was past time for her to go home. She nibbled her bottom lip as she pondered what to do now. Going home to a microwave packaged dinner while sitting in her room reading most of the night held no appeal. Maybe she should go and see if Spencer was around. It couldn’t hurt, she decided. Maybe she’d catch him, and they could talk and figure things out.
She rose, grabbed her purse and left the room. After saying goodbye to Kate, she hurried outside. Deciding to walk the few blocks rather than drive, Maggie took the time to gather her thoughts. Over the past days, she’d had time to really digest everything. While the hurt remained, the anger was gone. She could even understand his side of it, now that she was calm. Mistakes were made on both parts, now, if they could just get past them… She hoped they could, because his parting words to her that night—even though they were said in anger—rang true. She would compare any guy to Spencer, no question. And she suspected they’d fall woefully short.
Coming up to the gallery building, Maggie decided to check the apartment first. She found the door locked and pulled her key from her purse. Once inside, she walked through and found it empty. She held onto hope as she made her way down to the gallery space. Her heart leapt when she heard voices in one of the back rooms.
“Spencer?” she called, walking in that direction, stopping short when Cal and her mother came through the doorway. She frowned slightly when she took in their attire—Cal’s suit and her mother’s dress. Maybe they were going to dinner?
“Hi sweetie. Cal was just showing me around,” her mom said brightly, approaching and dropping a kiss on her cheek.
“Hey,” she answered then looked at her brother. “Um, is Spencer here?”
“No.”
Taken aback by the curt reply, she shook her head. “Oh, all right. Do you think he’ll be back tonight?”
A muscle jerked in his cheek as he clenched his jaw before responding. “No. His show is tonight. Mom and I are heading there now to meet him for dinner before it starts.”
Oh shit. His show was tonight? Well, didn’t she feel like a horse’s ass.
“We should go. Meet you at the car,” he said to their mother and moved to walk around them.
“Cal,” Angela said reproachfully.
“What?” He came to a halt. “I’m supposed to pretend that everything’s great? It’s not. It’s one of the biggest nights of Spence’s life, and his girlfriend,” he sneered the word, “had no clue. All because she’s too damned stubborn to even ask.”
“Wait a minute,” Maggie started.
“No,” he bit out. “I’ve been with him the last week, listened to him, watched him walk around like a freaking zombie because you’re in a snit that he didn’t tell you he made money painting. It’s gutting him, Maggie. Shit, when he showed interest in you, I told him to have a care with you.” He laughed harshly. “I had it backward—I should have told you to have a care with him.”
“Cal, please” she said miserably.
“Please what?” he demanded. “Maggie, I love you, but damn, you piss me off. You don’t realize how good you had it with Spence. He treated you well; he made you happy. We could all see that. How could you just throw that away?”
She choked back a cry and tried to think of something, anything to say. Cal stared at her then his expression softened. He stepped forward and kissed her cheek.
“Fix this, Maggie,” he whispered before straightening. “Find a way to fix this.”
As he walked out the door, their mother looked at Maggie with a broad smile, and Maggie let out a startled laugh.
“Why are you so happy?” she asked with a sniff.
“Not necessarily happy,” Angela said. “It just warms my heart to see my babies looking out for each other.”
“Ripping me a new one is looking out for me?” Maggie shook her head.
“When done with love, yes. You didn’t hear this from me,” she hooked her arm with Maggie’s, “but Spence’s showing is at the Harding Gallery in St. Paul.”
Cal was standing on the sidewalk beside his car when they came out. He moved to lock the doors behind them.
“Thanks, Mom.” Maggie blew her a kiss and started down the street toward where she was parked.
“See you in a bit, sweetie. Your black sheath would be perfect for tonight,” Angela called after her.
Maggie laughed. Yeah, her mom knew her better than anyone. And she was right on the money. The black dress would knock Spencer’s socks off and leave him off balance then maybe she’d have a shot at convincing him they belonged together. And her brother was right, too. Maggie was stubborn as hell and she wasn’t going to give up until Spencer was completely convinced.
Chapter Ten
Spence walked through the crowded gallery, his mind far from what was going on around him. He kept scanning faces, hoping to see Maggie’s, and had to keep squashing down the disappointment when he didn’t.
He jolted when a hand land on his biceps. Turning he found Mrs. Monroe before him.
“I know I said it before, but your work is beautiful. You should be very proud. We all are.” She motioned to where her sons and Kate stood nearby. The whole family—except Maggie. Fuck. He needed to stop thinking about her.
He forced a smile. “Thanks. For the compliment and for dinner. It was great to sit down and breathe for the first time in a week.”
“I can imagine.” She tutted sympathetically and studied him a few long moments.
Lifting his hand to his cheek, he laughed. “Do I have something on my face?”
Mrs. Monroe chuckled. “No.” She covered his hand with hers, cupping his cheek. “You’re exhausted and not just from preparing for tonight.”
“I’m fine,” he insisted. “After tonight, I’ll be able to sleep for days if I want.”
“Will you?” she asked. “I don’t think it’ll be that easy.”
He let his hand fall when she pulled away. “Really? And why is that?”
“You know why,” she said cryptically. “You’ll learn soon enough, Spence, I see all.” She winked, lifted up on her toes and brushed her lips against his cheek. When she pulled back, she used her thumb to wipe the mark she’d apparently left. “Congratulations on the wonderful showing. And the person you’ve been waiting for? She just arrived.”
As the older woman strolled away, Spence turned around. And momentarily lost the ability to breathe. Maggie stood inside the door, clutching her purse in front of her and looking around with wide eyes. Then, their gazes met. Even from the distance, he could make out her trembling lips as she sent him a small smile. He took a step forward only to be stopped when the gallery owner came up to him.
“Mr. Reed, there is someone you must meet.”
As the woman took him by the elbow and steered him to the left, he mouthed “sorry” to Maggie. She nodded, and before his attention was pulled to the patron he was to schmooze, he saw Kate approach and hug Maggie.
Too much time passed when he had to meet people, shake hands, talk about his inspiration on certain pieces. Not that he minded talking about it, but in most cases, he didn’t think the people particularly gave a rat
’s ass. They sipped champagne, nibbled canapés, and nodded, but he suspected if he asked them to repeat anything he said, he’d get nothing but blank stares. And there was one person he wanted to talk to, and he had yet to make his way to her.
When he finally had a moment, he looked around the room. At least, the crowd was thinning somewhat now that the showing was coming to an end.
“Right over there.”
He glanced over at Cal, who nodded toward the back.
“She’s been staring at that painting for a good twenty minutes.”
“Thanks, man.” With long strides, Spence made his way to her side. He looked at the painting then looked at her face, anxious to gauge her reaction.
“It’s me,” she said quietly, eyes still on the canvas.
“Yes.”
“I’m naked.”
“Yes… But nothing’s showing. It’s very tame.” The painting was of her sitting on the edge of the bed, sheets pooled around her hips. Her back was presented the viewer, long blonde curls floating over her shoulders, and she was mostly in silhouette, the light from the window she faced casting shadows around her.
“No, not tame.” She shook her head. “Incredibly sexy.”
He closed his eyes a moment, and when he opened them, she was looking up at him.
“Cal’s the only person who’s ever painted me, and that was more of a caricature than a serious piece.”
“Cal doesn’t see you the same way I do,” he pointed out.
“No.” She turned back to the painting. “He doesn’t. You made me beautiful.”
“I just paint what I see,” he disagreed. “Can’t make something into what it’s not. And you are beautiful.”
“Charmer,” she said, her voice breaking slightly.
“I’m trying.” He laughed. “I have to make up for being jerk somehow.”
“Spencer.”
She reached over and touched his hand. He turned until their palms met, then raised her hand to his lips.
“You want to get outta here?”
Maggie glanced around. “Can you leave?”
“Yep.” He glanced at his watch. “They’re going to start kicking people out in about five anyway. Just let me say a few goodbyes.” He bussed her hand again before releasing it. “Be right back.”
Even though Spence rushed his farewells, it was still close to an hour before they walked into his hotel room at Monroe-St. Paul. Maggie immediately kicked off her heels and tossed her purse beside them.
When she faced him, she blurted, “I’m sorry.”
“Me too,” he said quietly.
“I should have asked about your art. I’ve done a bit of research on it the last couple of days, and now, especially after seeing it in person, I can say, you’re amazing. I’m in awe of what you create. I shouldn’t have ignored that part of you, and if I could go back—”
“Shh, it’s okay.” He sure as hell didn’t want to fight anymore. Now they were together, he wanted to move forward. With Maggie.
“But it’s not," she insisted. “I realize I hurt you, and that was the last thing I ever wanted to do. You’re too important to me. Being apart sucked, but it made me see how much you mean to me. How much I need you in my life.”
Before she could say anything else, Spence reached out and cupped her face. He stared into her eyes a moment. Maggie blinked back tears. All the tension and fear that had swamped her since the night they argued eased a bit. She didn’t want to lose him—of all the thoughts racing through her mind, that one was the loudest and persistent.
“I thought I could get you out of my system, Spencer Reed,” she said quietly. “But, sneaky shit, you managed to wiggle right under all my defenses. And they’re impressive defenses, built up over a lot of time.”
“I’m not so easy to get rid of.” He smiled. “Especially when I’m where I want to be, and who I want to be with. And that’s you, Maggie. Never doubt that.”
The rest of the tension melted away, and hope took its place.
“Even if I’ve been an idiot?”
“Even then. And you aren’t the only one who made mistakes and fucked up. Just as guilty here. But it’s all part of being in a relationship, darlin’.” He kissed her gently. “Forgive and move on. Let’s move on, Maggie.”
Gladly. Maggie lifted up on her toes. “Kiss me again.”
Spencer smiled and bent to meet her mouth. Maggie slid her tongue along the seam where his lips met and hummed happily when he, without hesitation, opened and deepened the kiss, moving his tongue forward to dance with hers.
“Move to the bed,” she whispered against him.
“Love when my woman’s in charge,” he teased.
My woman. The declaration thrilled her and comforted her at the same time. She hadn’t lost him. He still wanted her, wanted to be with her.
He took a step back and sat. Looking up at her, he winked. “What now?”
“Well,” she moved close and turned, “first, you can unzip me.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
The rasp of the zipper filled the quiet room. Once it was lowered, she turned and backed away. Grasping the straps between her fingers, she pulled them off her shoulders and let the dress fall. It bunched at her waist, exposing her black strapless bra. She bit back a grin as his gaze zeroed in on her breasts.
“I want you,” she stated firmly as she pushed the sheath over her hips and let it pool at her feet. “I’ve never wanted anyone like this. I wasn’t sure I wanted this,” she admitted, her voice cracking. “But when I thought I’d fucked up and pushed you away for good…” She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply before she met his gaze again. “It tore me apart, Spencer.”
“Maggie—” He made a move to stand but she held out her hand.
“Don’t. Let me say this. It’s hard enough. I…I think I’m falling for you.” She let out a nervous laugh. “I think… No, no thinking. I love you,” she blurted out.
Now, Spencer did stand, and strode to her. He pulled her roughly into his arms.
“If it makes you feel better, it gets easier to say with practice.”
She slapped at his ass. “Don’t tease.”
“Oh, I’m not.” He leaned back and looked down at her. “I’m totally serious right now. I love you, Maggie.”
“Oooooh,” she said on a long breath. After a heartbeat, she grabbed him by the head—“Thank God.”—and laid a kiss on him.
He slipped his hands up to her breasts, cupping the mounds and thumbing her nipples through slippery material of her bra. They hardened immediately, and Maggie arched into the touch. Her legs trembled, and desire pooled low in her belly, spiraled straight to her core.
Spencer kissed along her jaw and his breath whispered past her ear as he caught the lobe between his teeth.
“Am I ever going to get enough of you?” Maggie asked as her head fell back.
“God, I hope not.” He chuckled. “I plan to be around for a long, long time.”
Pleasure arced along her spine as he dropped a kiss on her shoulder. He laved and gently bit the sensitive skin.
“Wait, wait,” she forced herself to say.
“Hmmm.” He continued to kiss and tease.
“Nuh uh. Your woman…” she gasped, “in charge. Remember?”
With a groan, he straightened, held his hands up and stepped back. “Yes, ma’am.”
The disappointment in his voice made her grin.
“What now, darlin’? You want me back on the bed?” He took a step toward it.
“No,” she said impulsively and stepped around him. She sat on the bed and scooted back, then leaned back on her elbows. “Take your clothes off.”
“What?” Genuine shock widened his eyes.
“As yummy as you look in a suit,” she said, “I know for a fact, you are even yummier underneath. And I want to see it. Now.”
He nodded solemnly and loosened his tie. Once that was gone and tossed aside, he moved to the buttons of his shirt.
She pressed her thighs together as inch by inch his chest and abs were revealed. She ached to reach for him, to feel him against her, but she bit her lip and just watched him. He shrugged off the shirt and started on his pants. As he undid and lowered them, Maggie couldn’t sit still any longer. She shifted and rose to her knees in the center of the mattress. As he removed his shoes and the rest of his clothes, she reached behind her and got rid of her bra, her eyes on him the whole time.
She licked her lips when he stood nude before her. Crooking her finger, she motioned him forward.
“Lay down.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he repeated and followed her directive. Once he was stretched out on the mattress, his head resting on the pillow, she ran her hand over his hard thigh, pondering her next move.
“Put your hands behind your head,” she said quietly, wondering if he’d play along.
“What’s next, Maggie?” he asked as he brought his arms up and clasped his fingers behind his head. “You gonna pull out some handcuffs?”
She laughed at his cheeky tone. “Maybe next time.”
“Promises, promises.”
Maggie blew him a kiss then leaned forward to capture one of his flat nipples between her lips. Spencer’s breath escaped in a long hiss. She rolled her tongue around the tight crown, and felt immense satisfaction when his body shook. After a flick of the tongue, she caught the bud with her teeth.
“Fuck,” he bit out.
She nearly pulled away, thinking she’d been too rough, but he arched into her. When she looked up, his eyes were closed and his lips parted. It was pure pleasure in his expression, not pain or rejection.
Emboldened, she slid her hand down, over his quivering abs, to his hard cock. After stroking it once, pulling a deep groan from him, she moved lower to his balls. As she cupped and massaged the sac, she moved to his other nipple. Then she set her teeth on the tip, at the same time running her nail along the tight skin of his scrotum.
Losing Control Page 11