The Bottom Line (18 page)

She grabbed two containers and turned on the oven. The fan started whirring as it dispersed heat throughout the oven. 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 honest. 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 move. “All men are putty in your hands 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, feelings 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 ring and tell Connor she couldn’t be meeting with him tonight. Maybe she should stay with her friends and go back to the way things used to be with them.

“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. “I think you know what you need to do with your essay. Write down exactly what you want in a man and why you’re entering this contest. Go for truth and honesty. 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, exactly what Maggie said,” Julia said with a nod. She picked up a pen and started to jot 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 in this day with all our modern conveniences finding a mate would be easy. If anything it seems harder for modern women.”

Susan nodded. “I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately. I think it’s because women are programmed 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 for us. 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 glanced at all of them before turning her attention back to her. “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 really have thought about this.”

“Sorry,” Susan said. “I didn’t mean to preach, but I’m pissed because society paints us as loose women and says no wonder we can’t catch husbands. I’m saying I want a husband, but the right men aren’t out there. Either they’re playing the field or they’ve married their childhood sweetheart right out of school.”

“Or they’re gay,” Christina said. “Twenty years ago a gay man married and lived in the closet. These days they live together openly and even marry in civil unions.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being gay,” Julia said.

“I’m not saying that.” Christina sighed. “All I’m doing is agreeing with Susan and saying the men aren’t available in the dating pool.”

Julia flicked a lock of hair over her shoulder and shot Maggie a challenging look. “Don’t worry. Maggie and I are going to help you bag a farmer. They have a shortage in the country and we have two beautiful women in the city. Easy.”

Maggie grinned. “A match made in heaven.”

The oven timer dinged and Susan rose to attend to the lasagna. She sliced a loaf of bread into chunky bits and pulled a salad out of the fridge.

As they settled down to eat, Susan’s words echoed through Maggie’s mind. Her arrangement with Connor was a casual one, temporary by nature. Maybe she should tell him she’d found someone she wanted to spend time with and they couldn’t continue any longer. She wondered about signing up for the chance of meeting a farmer. She wanted marriage and children. Listening to Susan and Christina had forced herself to look at exactly what she wanted. But the thought of cutting Connor loose made her stomach hurt.

“Maybe you should fill out the forms as well, Julia,” Christina said.

“I know myself well enough to know I’d never survive in the country. I’d make a man plain miserable,” Julia said. “Susan, I love this lasagna. It’s delicious.

“What about you, Maggie?” Susan asked. “You’re not dating anyone.”

“Don’t forget about her secret spanking partner,” Julia said.

“Yeah, after lecturing me, I can’t believe you forgot. “ Maggie softened her words with a cheeky grin.
Attack. Divert!
She didn’t want to lie to them again. “I’m happy as I am,” she added, hoping that would suffice.

“Leave Maggie alone,” Julia said, coming to her defense. “She’ll tell us when she’s ready.”

Maggie concentrated on her lasagna, shoving a piece from one side of her plate to another because her stomach churned so much she knew she’d never get another bite down. She’d never tell them because she’d made a mistake in agreeing to Connor’s scheme. If her mistake ever came to light, she’d lose her friends because she’d done the one thing they’d agreed they’d never do—hit on Connor.

Chapter Fourteen

Maggie almost didn’t go to meet with Connor. She left Susan’s flat at quarter to nine and dithered. She went home and rang her father to say hello, to ease her guilty conscience.

“Hi, Dad. It’s Maggie.”

“I thought you were going to ring during the weekend.”

Maggie only just caught her sigh. It was always the same, and it didn’t matter what she said or did, she couldn’t do anything right where her father and stepmother were concerned. “I’m sorry.” She didn’t bother making excuses.

“I see
your
mother is in the magazines again.”

“Oh?” Good grief, what had her mother done now?

“You haven’t seen the Woman’s Weekly?”

“No.”

“She has a new lover.” Her father snorted, and she knew if they were standing in the same room his cheeks would blaze with anger, and that fury would echo in his eyes. “Some rugby player,” he added with disgust.

As usual, Maggie didn’t know what to say, planted firmly in the middle of her parents.

“A younger rugby player. He’s your age!”

“Oh.” Maggie wondered what Susan would say about an older woman whisking another eligible bachelor out of the dating pool.

“It’s disgusting the way that woman flaunts herself.”

“Dad, I rang to see how you are. I’m meant to meet a friend—”

“At this time of night? You don’t get that from me.”

Maggie’s hand clenched around the phone. “I’d better go. I’ll ring you next week. Give everyone my love.” And she hung up before her father could wind up for another volley of complaints about her mother’s morals and bad blood passing on to her. She stomped around her apartment in an attempt to disperse her anger at both her parents. They were as bad as each other.

Half a dozen times, she picked up the phone to ring Connor, only to put it down again. If she hurried, she could leave a message.

Cowardly
.

Finally, she dialed and waited for the answer machine to pick up. One of Connor’s flatmates answered.

“Connor’s here. Just a sec.” He was gone and hollering for Connor before she could say she’d leave a message, that it wasn’t important. Her heart thumped while she waited for him. She could hang up but his flatmate knew it was her on the phone. Connor would ring back and start asking questions. Questions she didn’t want to answer.

“Maggie?”

“I’m running late,” she said. “I’m still at home.”

“I’ll come over. Be there soon.”

“I—okay.”
Weak. So bloody weak. Why couldn’t she tell him it was over?
Maggie hung up, took a deep breath and let it ease out. Truth stared her in the face. She didn’t want to end things between them. That was why she couldn’t tell him.

Sad. So sad
.

Sighing, she went to tidy her bedroom before taking a quick shower. She knew exactly where Connor’s visit would end.

Greg hadn’t counted on rugby training going for so long. He’d thought about giving the sport away, but the partners liked knowing he played rugby, and he’d take every edge he could. He deserved a full partnership. He’d earned it.

He pulled up outside Maggie’s apartment, cursing when there were no parking spaces out front. He drove past, finally finding a space two blocks down. With any luck Maggie would get over her snit and let him stay the night. A man needed sex, and while he could have slept with someone else, he hadn’t, wanting Maggie.

A man jogged across the road in front of him, and Greg cursed.

Bloody Connor Grey. What the fuck did the man want with Maggie at this time of the night?

He knew they were friends and resented their closeness. He wasn’t stupid enough to let her know, but after they married, he’d push Grey out of Maggie’s life. Let him know Maggie didn’t want him hanging around.

Greg hesitated, not wanting Connor to see him. They’d had their usual niggles on the rugby field tonight and Greg had decked him. Connor had a fat lip in the changing rooms after practice. It would look worse tomorrow at work, Greg thought gleefully. Bastard had it coming. Way Greg saw it, he still had a few free shots coming as payback for his black eye.

Connor entered the apartment building, and Greg decided to go for a coffee down the road. He’d grab a takeout and come back to wait for Connor to leave. Maggie would probably send him on his way. She liked to have early nights during the week and was usually in bed by ten.

Fifteen minutes later, Greg returned. Connor’s car was still parked outside. Greg sipped his coffee and watched the lights in Maggie’s lounge on the second floor. They flicked off and he straightened, moving into the shadows so Connor didn’t see him when he left. Maggie’s bedroom light flicked on, and he saw her wander over to pull the curtains. Another shadow walked up behind her, and the two blended into one.

Greg blinked, unsure if he’d imagined that or not. The next instant the curtains shut off his view. What the hell?

Were Maggie and Grey involved? Nah. He shook his head and glanced at the window again. He waited for an hour, his fury increasing with every passing minute.

Connor didn’t come out again.

“What’s wrong, babe?” Connor had thought he might find an excuse to spank her again, because he’d kinda enjoyed it last time. One look at her face made him change his mind. “Are you okay?” The words came out sounding a little weird because of his fat lip.

“I should be the one asking that. What happened to your lip?”

“A tackle at training,” he said easily, making light of the truth. Greg had punched him on purpose. Not that he intended to tell tales. They’d work it out between the two of them, either on the field or off.

“And you had your face in the wrong place.”

Her teasing note made him smile. That sounded better. When she’d first opened the door she’d looked like a whipped puppy. “Yeah, something like that.”

“I’m tired,” Maggie said.

“So am I.” His ribs hurt like hell. Greg had managed a couple of good shots before the rest of their team mates had separated them. Connor wasn’t about to involve Maggie in the middle of their petty squabble. “Can I sleep here the night? Hold you?”

“I thought we were about sex.”

“We’re friends.” He hated the note of vulnerability in her voice. It made his chest ache. “Maggie, what’s the problem?”

“I have a guilty conscience.”

“Why?” Connor caught her hand and tugged her to him. “Tell me.”

“We’re sneaking around behind our friends’ backs. Lying to them.”

“Babe, our private arrangement is none of their business, but we can tell the girls if it makes you feel better.”

“We can’t do that.”

“Why?”

“Never mind. I’m going to bed.”

“Am I staying tonight?”

She shrugged and turned away. “Whatever.”

Connor stood, indecisive for a few seconds. Women. They confused the hell out of him at times. But one thing was clear. If he walked away now, she might not let him back into her life. He didn’t intend to walk away. Soon, he’d start pushing for more. She was so damn skittish, reminding him of the wild deer that used to graze on his grandfather’s land when he was a kid. He followed and wondered why she didn’t want to tell the others about him. Didn’t she think it would last between them? Granted he didn’t have a good track record with women, but it was different with Maggie. She was a friend first. They knew each other, their strengths and weaknesses.

Damn, why did this have to be so difficult?

He walked up behind her as she drew the curtains, pulling her against his chest. At first she stiffened, but she relaxed into him quickly enough to mollify his sense of pique. He curved his hands around her waist, enjoying her warmth, her softness. Her old-fashioned lavender scent.

“Come to bed,” he whispered. His cock started to fill and he dredged up every bad, embarrassing and cold memory he could to will his erection away.

She turned in his arms, stretched up to plant a chaste kiss on his lips and pulled away. Her robe slipped down her shoulders, and naked, she crawled between the sheets.

“Goodnight, Connor.” She turned away onto her side.

Connor’s eyes narrowed, his temper rising. Hell, how did he fix this if she wouldn’t tell him what the problem was?

He stripped off his clothes, leaving his jeans, T-shirt and underwear in an untidy pile on the floor. After flicking off the light, he crawled into her bed, thankful for the first time that it was a double rather than one of the larger sizes. It gave him an excuse to touch her. He swallowed the curse trembling on his lips, thinking it instead. Fuck, what happened if he couldn’t fix whatever was wrong between them?

Connor woke slowly, his arms full of delectable woman. Sometime during the night they’d gravitated toward each other, seeking warmth and touch. He let himself drift, content to enjoy the moment of tenderness until his body started to react to her presence.

Maggie stirred, stretching like a cat, her body brushing his erection. Connor couldn’t help the involuntary jerk of his hips. He watched her face, the flicker of her eyes as she came awake.

“Connor.”

“Morning, babe.” He drew her closer and kissed her, signaling his intentions clearly. He wanted to make love to her. He mightn’t be able to tell her he loved her, but he could show her with his body, his actions.

“I need to clean my teeth,” she muttered.

“No,” he said, instinctively knowing she’d start to think too hard if she left the bed. He slid his mouth over her silky cheek, taking nibbles out of her neck. He slid his hands down her body in a long, luxurious stroke. Damn, he wanted to wake like this every day. His hand halted at the dip of her waist, and he kissed his way down her body, sliding a leg between hers. She softened beneath him, her relaxation giving implicit permission to continue.
Thank you.
He touched. Stroked. Kissed until sensation roared through him.

Chills rippled across his flesh when he entered her, contrasting sharply with the heat surrounding his dick. Man that felt really good. Amazing. He rocked into her, taking it slowly at first, using every bit of his expertise until she shuddered against him, cried out.

Pushing deeply, he let go, giving in to a sweet orgasm. Afterward, he held her closely and wondered how he should play this. How did he demolish the wall he sensed between them? He wanted forever, and she wanted only what they had now. Connor recalled one of his ex-girlfriends crying when he’d broken things off with her because he hadn’t wanted serious and she did.

One day, she’d said. You’ll find a woman you want. I hope she doesn’t want you back because then you’ll know how it feels.

Connor knew how it felt. It felt like a kick in the guts.

Sex is good. Spanking is fun and makes me hot. Sometimes variety helps spice things up and gives our lovemaking a new edge.

I’ve been reading about bedtime stories. No, not the run-of-the-mill kids’ ones like Goldilocks and the Three Bears. That would be plain weird. I’ve been thinking about stories for grownups.

Imagine reading a story together. You and your partner are both naked. The book is open in front of you. There are pictures—explicit ones—and the words are even better, stimulating the imagination.

You’re in a private Turkish bath. The scent of fragrant oil lingers on the air. The air is moist and you lie on your stomach, sweat trickling down your face, your chest, between your breasts. Patiently, you wait for your massage, mind drifting away with the soft notes of birdsong, piped through an invisible sound system.

A door opens.

Footsteps pad closer.

Strong hands begin to work your back. Stroking and gliding across moist skin. Slowly, they move down your body, kneading and pushing your buttocks. A hand snakes between your legs, spreading them. The hand works even lower, tickling across the root of your balls. The hand slips lower, massaging and teasing until your penis fills with blood and becomes erect.

I’m sure you get the picture. Adult bedtime stories can be a lot of fun and are a novel way of building desire—a form of foreplay, if you will.

Another method of foreplay I wanted to mention is role-playing. We role-play when we’re kids, pretending we’re bus drivers, nurses or shopkeepers. It’s a fun way of playing, involving imagination and sometime props. Think about it. Extend the idea into the adult arena. I’m sure you’ve seen or talked about some of the corny porn movies available for viewing. There’s a reason doctors and nurses or teacher and the naughty schoolgirl scenario are popular.

What? You think we’re all sick in the head?

I hate to break it to you, but if you’re reading my blog now, you’re probably on the same page. You like things a bit different. Role-playing falls into kink for some people. I guess it depends how far you want to take it, but role-playing is great for spanking foreplay.

Get costumes. Dress as a school girl, a nurse, a disobedient servant or geisha girl. Have your lover dress as his or her chosen character, improvise a script and have fun together. As always, have a safe word in case things go a little far. Agree beforehand what’s acceptable, what strays out of bounds and use a pre-agreed safe word if boundaries are crossed. Play time should be enjoyable and not stray into torture.

And just so you know, I have an old school uniform that still fits me. Guess what I’ll be wearing for my next spanking…

Connor stared at the screen, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. Damn, that was hot. His Maggie had hidden storytelling talents. He wanted her to read a Turkish bath story to him, tell him how it ended and, even better, show him.

Of course, he’d return the favor and tell her a story guaranteed to make her squirm. A story to make her hot and desperate for him. His brow wrinkled as he considered the possibilities. This weekend. After his game, they’d shoot away for the rest of the weekend. Waiheke Island, he decided. Close but not too close to home. They could walk on the beach, visit the World War Two gun placements and dine at the vineyards. And when they weren’t doing all that, they could make love. Some adult storytelling. A spanking for a manufactured infraction. Some traditional sex to balance things out. Yeah, he thought. A great plan. And if he could find out what was troubling her so much the better.