In His Cuffs(34)

"A submissive. Is that what I was to you?"

"I was hoping so. I thought we were moving that direction. Clearly it was not what you wanted."

She lowered her hands to her lap so he couldn't see the way she was  wringing them together beneath the table. The wall that faced the  hallway was made of glass, so anyone passing by could see inside the  room. This wasn't where she would have chosen to have this discussion,  where anyone could witness her humiliation, but she didn't want to lose  the opportunity. "It is what I want," she confessed, voice raw. "I was  out of line in more ways than one." She took a breath, and he didn't  speak. Unsure if she'd have another chance to apologise, she continued,  "You own the company, and I should have told you what I had done. I  called your phone that day, but I could have, should have, left a  message. Regardless, the relationship we have-or had-outside of the  office demanded I show you more respect." She blinked. "I'm not sure how  to make it up to you, or if I can earn your forgiveness."

He pressed his palms together in front of his face and tapped his index fingers.

The moment drew out over at least thirty excruciating seconds before he spoke.

"I want to be very clear about a few things. First, your immediate  action saved the Hoskins Group account. Second, I see that you made  systems changes to ensure it doesn't occur again. I'm not happy the  fuck-up happened to begin with, and I'm not happy we extended the term  of the original agreement without giving the renewal due consideration."

She absently picked at a cuticle.

"Where I take exception to your behaviour is with your deviousness."

Maggie exhaled a shaky breath.

"You are supposed to be my most trusted adviser, Maggie. Is there another word that applies better? Distrustfulness, perhaps?"

That was worse. "No, Sir," she said.

"Where do you want to go from here?" he asked, dropping his hands and leaning towards her.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Barb walk by.

"I've been lonely, Mr Tomlinson." And the nightmares were a constant  companion. "I'd like a second chance. I'm not sure I will ever be a  perfect submissive. But I do know the time with you makes me want to  try."

"Your behaviour would have to be punished." He leant back in his chair, studying her.

Oh God. Panic made her freeze. "Sir?"

"We discussed punitive spankings, Maggie. As I recall, you said you  would not like to receive one. I promise, you would hate it."

She shuddered.

"I've taken some time to consider the situation from your point of view  and understand why you would betray my confidence in that way."

Betray. Another harsh word.

He'd said he'd taken time to think about her motivations. Now she also  saw things from his vantage. He'd been relentless in his honesty  throughout and she understood how she'd hurt him. The knowledge made her  heart ache.

"We could be good together, Maggie, on a personal as well as  professional level. The decision as to whether we will be or not has  always been in your hands. It still is."                       
       
           



       

"But I'd have to submit to your punishment."

"It's for you, as much as for me."

"I don't understand."

"You said you didn't know how to make it up. You can, anytime you want, by submitting to my cane."

"Jesus." Her heart slammed to a stop as fear collided with nerves.

"Five strokes. In my office. Your behaviour happened here, it will be punished here."

She couldn't string two coherent thoughts together, and speech became  impossible. He gave her time to process what he'd said. "You …  Are you  serious?"

"Deadly."

His lips were set in a firm line. His eyebrows were relaxed, his  shoulders loose. He was calm about this. And, she was certain, not  negotiable. "I need to think."

"Of course."



* * * *



She spent the next day doing nothing but that. On Sunday, she went over to Vanessa's house.

Vanessa blended up an extra-large batch of margaritas and poured each of  them a glass before they went outside to sit on the deck. Even that  reminded her of being with David. "Bring Mama V up to date."

"Mama V?"

"One of the twins calls me that."

"Shit. They're twins?"

"Fraternal."

"And you're the Domme now?"

"Not always. But it turns out I look pretty good in boots and holding a whip."

"I bet you do." Maggie took a drink.

"Let me know if you'd like me to practise on you. I can show you a few tricks to get your man to lick your boots."

Maggie choked on a piece of ice. Vanessa laughed and slapped her on the back.

"Now get serious," Vanessa said. "And give me the ugly details."

Maggie brought her friend up to date, leaving nothing out. "And he wants me to call him Master."

"What the hell did you expect? Unlike my boys, your man's a Dom. It's  not just a term of respect, it's an acknowledgement of the power  exchange. And you get to decide whether you want to have that kind of  relationship or flip him the bird. You get that, right? He didn't fire  your ass, and you can continue your work relationship on professional  terms. What the man asked you is if you wanted to be his sub. Do you?"

"It's not that easy."

"No relationship is, especially with someone as demanding as he is.  Nothing comes with guarantees, you know that. Is it better to go for it  or live with the regret?"

Maggie thought about her father's premature death. Would her mother have  been better off if she'd never met him, sparing her the grief of loss?

"I'd trade in the twins for a chance like you've got," Vanessa said.

"Seriously?"

Vanessa drained her margarita in a single, big gulp. "Well, I'd consider  it, at least. My advice? Call him what he wants and take your  punishment like a big girl." She put down her empty glass. "I'll be back  with the pitcher."

They spent the rest of the afternoon talking about a dozen different  things, and by the time Maggie arrived back home, she felt settled in a  way she hadn't before. She thought about sending him a text message then  opted to wait.

That night, she had her usual, middle-of-the-night glass of water on the patio.

She looked at the cloudless sky and realised all the nightmares had one  thing in common-they were trying to force her to look deep inside  herself, to see what she feared then face it.

Alone, she did.

Yes, he might be dominating and overbearing, demanding more from her  than she'd ever given. But he also gave more than she'd ever  received-comfort, belief, trust. Next to him, all other relationships  became insignificant. What he was offering was something real and  authentic. There'd be no hiding, no other men, no lies or half-truths.  She'd be physically exposed and emotionally vulnerable.

Was she brave enough to meet his demands?

At the office, he continued to be cool and polite. He didn't bring up  their personal relationship. He seemed energetic and as focused as  always, and that annoyed her. She envied his calm, wanting him to be as  torn up inside as she was.

Over the next couple of days, she ran through the gamut of emotions  before facing the truth. Somewhere along the line, she'd fallen in love  with him. She admired his business acumen, but most of all she liked the  way he was relentless in insisting she give everything she had to  offer. She respected his inflexibility, his honesty, the way he cared  for her when they were together. He made her feel safe and kept  nightmares at bay.

Last week he'd said he missed her, taking the first step in repairing  the damage she'd caused. She missed him and wanted to be with him, even  if it meant she had to accept a caning as well as his terms.                       
       
           



       

On all levels, she was terrified.

During her lunch hour, she sent him a message asking if she could have a moment of his time late this afternoon.

He responded that he would see her at six o'clock.

Because she was dreading their meeting and had no idea what she was  going to say or how she was going to approach him, the hours passed like  minutes. By four-thirty, many of the employees had left. By five, she  and David were the only two people in the building.

She tried to compose a letter, but couldn't put the words in the right  order. A couple of minutes before their appointment, her cell phone  alarm rang. As if there had been any possibility she wouldn't notice the  time.

Maggie double-checked that the front door was secure and all office  lights and equipment were turned off. At the top of the hour, she paused  outside his door to drink in several breaths. Her body felt oxygen  deprived, making her lightheaded. Then she knocked.