In His Cuffs(3)

"How about it, Maggie?"

She looked up at him. His use of Maggie rather than Margaret had been  intentional, as if he knew exactly the effect it would have on her. She  would never scene with a man who didn't respect her wishes, and he was  proving he would. "What happened to your no fraternising policy?"

Several more people entered the room, and the noise level increased. He  took hold of her shoulders and moved her backwards. She didn't protest.  How could she with the way oxygen deprivation was suddenly making it  impossible to think?                       
       
           



       

He released his grip, but he'd effectively trapped her in a corner, her  back to the wall. The act seemed symbolic of their entire relationship.  He was adept at manoeuvring her to suit his wishes.

Six months ago, when he'd decided to acquire World Wide Now for far less  money than Maggie believed it was worth, she'd put up a fiery verbal  protest. Rather than deal with her directly, David had taken her mother  aside.

He'd told Gloria that Maggie's retention was critical to the success of the firm.

In a brilliant strategic move, he'd then called Maggie back into a  private meeting and presented a deal that gave him everything he wanted.

If they met his lofty goals, meaning Maggie worked her ass off and  brought in sales, her mother would be rewarded with half a million  dollars at the end of two years. He hadn't promised Maggie a penny  beyond her regular wages, but he'd somehow figured that taking care of  her mother was the biggest incentive of all for Maggie.

Her mother had told Maggie she didn't have to accept his terms. Another  deal, perhaps a better one, would come along. Together, they'd figure it  out.

But once David had shown her the reality of World Wide Now's fiscal  picture due to her mother's mismanagement, Maggie had seen no other  option. She loved her mother and wanted her to have freedom from the  financial struggles she'd always endured.

If he had simply waltzed in as lord and master, Maggie would have  flipped him the bird on the way out of the door. But he was far too  smart for that. Still, that didn't mean she liked or appreciated his  manipulation.

Once she'd nodded, he'd pulled out an employment contract. The bastard  had prepared it ahead of time. She had signed her name with short, angry  strokes. In corporate speak, she was shackled in golden handcuffs.

And that wasn't much different from the metal pair dangling from his belt loop. Despite her resolve, she kept glancing at them.

He took the glass from her hand and gave it to a passing waiter.

She felt no fear as he leaned towards her, crowding her space. They  breathed the same air, and his scent intoxicated her-power, spiced with  raw masculine confidence.

"I think we can both agree this is an exception. You wouldn't be doing  this to get ahead at work. I wouldn't be forcing you to do it to keep  your job. At the office, we'll have the same arrangement we have now,"  he told her.

"Meaning you'll set my schedule, tell me what to do, organise my life, prioritise my tasks and I'll agree with you."

"Much the same way as it'll be tonight, yes." His smile was predatory.

She shuddered then regretted she'd allowed him the glimpse of her  vulnerability. "I have no intention of sceneing with you," she said.

"The choice is always yours. Do you know the club's safe word?" he asked her.

She blinked. "We're not having this conversation."

"Do you know the safe word?" he repeated.

"Of course."

"Then tell me what it is."

She felt as if she was involved in a game whose rules she didn't understand. "Halt."

"If you want me to walk away, say it."

Awareness of him simmered in her, its effects causing a slow heating of  her blood. One word would end their discussion. That's what she should  want. So why was she still here, feeling tempted? "You don't play fair."

"I like to win," he agreed. His plainly stated words took away any  further argument. "You and I both know that in any D/s relationship, the  sub has the real power. You get to set the rules and the pace. If I  don't agree to your terms, we have no deal." He paused. "In a way, the  tables are turned. It seems to me you should relish that after six  months."

"It won't be your butt that's being blistered."

"Or legs," he added. "Or shoulders. Or breasts." He leaned in a fraction of an inch closer.

It stunned her how threatened, how on fire she suddenly felt. He'd barely moved, but she was snared.

"Or pussy," he said finally.

She pressed herself harder against the wall, needing its support. "I'm not saying I would ever agree to your insane suggestion … "

"Go on."

"If I did, we wouldn't talk about it at the office."

"What happens here, stays here. It will change nothing about our dynamic at the office, if that's what you're afraid of."

"I'm not afraid of anything, David," she said, her words infused with bravado she was sure he could see through.

Maggie reminded herself she didn't like him. But damn, there was  something about his commanding manner that intrigued her. Every day, she  watched him in action. When he wanted something, he pursued it with  single-minded determination. A very feminine part of her wondered what  it would feel like to be the focus of that attention.                       
       
           



       

"Do you have your own safe word that you prefer?"

"Halt is fine."

"How about a word to slow things down?"

"Eclipse."

He tilted his head to the side.

"I'm more likely to say accelerate," she told him.

"I wouldn't have figured you for an extreme player."

"You think you're a sage, Mr Tomlinson," she said. "But you've misread a few things about me."

"I'll give you that. From the way you behave at the office, I would have taken you for a Domme."

"It might be fun to strap you to a St Andrew's cross," she said, raising one of her waxed eyebrows.

He laughed.

She blinked. During the time she'd known him, she had never heard him  laugh. She'd rarely even seen him smile. Was it possible she'd judged  him too harshly? Then she recalled the way he'd even provided the  ballpoint pen for her to sign the hated employment agreement. "I'll take  that as a no, then."

"Not a chance in hell," he affirmed. "The only one feeling a lash will be you. And feel it you will."

Before she could respond to his flat, arrogant statement, he continued,  "I assure you I will be very observant about your reactions." He  captured her chin and tipped her head back. "I want to know what  quickens your pulse. I'll find out what dampens your panties. I want to  know all of your erotic sounds and what each means."

She wished she had met him here first, that she'd seen him as an  exciting Dom, felt the connection and agreed to scene. But she couldn't  pretend their relationship wasn't already laden with hostility and  distrust.

"For tonight," he reminded her. "Just tonight. Say yes, Maggie mine."

If she was smart, she'd tell him no. She shouldn't want this, him. But  every nerve ending zinged. Desire won the battle over common sense.  "Yes." She nodded.

Desire seemed to flare in his eyes, widening them. "Good," he said.

He released her and stepped back.

She was grateful for the physical space. This close, she noticed how male he was, sexy, sensual and threatening.

"Any hard limits?" he asked.

This part of a negotiation was familiar, and she relaxed into it. She  was good at asking for what she wanted. "No blood, edgeplay, permanent  marks."

"How about formal protocols?"

She'd had enough experience to know that Doms differed on what that  meant. But in this setting, since they weren't a couple, she doubted he  would ask for anything she'd find objectionable. "If it suits you, I'm  okay with it."

"We'll observe some, but I don't require strict adherence. I want you to communicate."

She nodded.

"What are your limits around humiliation?"

"As long as I'm not left alone for long periods, I'm fine."

"I won't leave you alone, ever. If you're suffering for me, I want to watch and enjoy every moment of it."

There was something about the huskiness in his voice-part promise, part  threat-that made her tremble. She looked at him. The set of his jaw  emphasised the seriousness of his words.

Maggie would have never suspected she'd willingly experience anguish for  David Tomlinson, even offer herself to him, but in this moment, there  was nothing she wanted more.

"And suffer you will, Maggie," he promised.





Chapter Two





Maggie froze as David reached forward to tuck a few stray strands of hair behind her ear.