Chapter Five
“I was looking for a beer and glass for Connor,” Maggie blurted, sure her face was on fire, her guilt clear for Julia to see.
“Why are you so flushed?” Julia’s eyes narrowed. “Is that a hickey on your breast?”
Bother, she’d missed a button. Two buttons. “Great. Why didn’t Connor tell me my buttons were undone?”
“Why is Connor here?” Julia sounded suspicious.
“He’s probably at a loose end,” Maggie snapped. “I was glad he came because Greg was here.”
“I thought you and Greg were finished.”
Thankfully, mention of Greg distracted Julia. “I thought so too. Greg wasn’t clear. I’m sure he is now. Come and have a glass of wine.” She’d prefer to continue in the bedroom with Connor but could hardly tell Julia to go away without making her suspicious.
“Where is Connor?”
“He must have gone to the bathroom,” Maggie said, biting her lip again. She turned away to grab a glass from the cupboard. He’d have to wait for his erection to subside. Julia would notice a hard-on straight away. The distant flush of the toilet sounded. She handed Julia a glass of white wine and hunted through the cupboard for a packet of crackers. They might as well have cheese and crackers with their drinks.
“Hey, Julia.” Connor grabbed his can of beer and took a sip. “What’s up?”
“I needed to get out of the apartment so I walked over to see Maggie.”
“Did you want to talk about girl stuff? Do you want me to leave?”
Maggie was torn, unable to decide what was worse. Facing Julia alone or suffering through the self-consciousness after their interruption.
Julia decided for them. “Don’t be silly. Maybe we can gang up on Maggie and find out who gave her the hickey on her breast.”
“Do you have a love bite on your breast, Maggie?” Connor’s wicked smirk sent desire zapping through her. “Are you going to give us details?”
“No,” Maggie said. “I’m not talking. You can’t make me.”
“How much wine have you got? We should put more in the fridge,” Julia said with a sly grin at Connor.
Maggie reached for the phone and hit speed dial. “Indian Hut? Good. I’d like to order banquet number four. You can deliver that to Apartment Five B, Eleven Mason Street in Newmarket. Half an hour? That sounds perfect.” Hanging up, she said to Connor and Julia, “If we’re going to drink more wine, we’d better eat. It’s the responsible thing for a host to do. Haven’t you seen the drink-drive ads on television?”
“Which would be fine if I’d driven here,” Julia pointed out. “I walked.”
“I’m saving you from walking into a lamp post. Your nose is very attractive as it is. If you broke it, you’d end up with a kink.”
Connor snorted. “Julia has enough kink in her life already. Blue pubic hair…”
Maggie sniggered. “You know about her blue pubic hair?”
“I do now,” Connor said, laughing.
“Oops.” Maggie slapped her hand over her mouth.
“It’s all right,” Julia said. “He tricked you. I was here and heard him. The man is sly. You should watch yourself. He’ll have the name of your secret man out of you before long. He’s slick.”
Connor and Maggie exchanged a look. Luckily Julia misinterpreted the guilt for something else. “Your days are numbered, Maggie Drummond. We’ll get the truth out of you. Don’t doubt it.”
Maggie picked up her wine and took a sip to moisten her dry mouth. This scheme with Connor was madness. She had to stop before someone got hurt. Aw heck, who was she kidding? She couldn’t stop. The sex with him was the best she’d ever had, and she liked him when they weren’t in bed. No, she’d have to watch herself. They’d both have to be careful.
In the erotic romance I read, the hero smacked the heroine with his hand. I still imagine the sound of his palm hitting her bare bottom. The sudden crack. Her cry of both pleasure and pain. Her elevated breathing. The soft sigh when a second and third smack heats her bottom and radiates all the way to her clit. The arousal.
Yes, I get hot just thinking about this couple, and they’re fictional. I think how it could feel if it were my bottom and arousal swamps me. Should it worry me or is this natural? I don’t know. All I know is that I have to try spanking. Somehow, I have to find a man willing to experiment with me, a man who is open and supportive. A man who likes me how I am and doesn’t want to change me. I’m not putting up with a man who expects me to diet and lose weight to fit his ideals. That’s not me.
