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 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.
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. A great plan. And if he could find out what was troubling her so much the better.
He grabbed his cell phone off the kitchen counter and hit speed dial. Maggie answered almost straight away. “How do you feel about a gym session?”
“Sounds good. We haven’t been for a few days. I’d arranged to meet the girls, but I’ll let them know I’ll be late.”
“I’ll pick you up in ten minutes.” Smiling, Connor put the phone beside his laptop. He hit a search engine and a few minutes later had picked out a good place to stay.
Leaping to his feet, he jogged to his bedroom, changed for the gym and grabbed his car keys. He arrived at Maggie’s apartment just as she walked outside.
“Great timing,” she said, opening the passenger door.
“Do you have plans for the weekend?” he asked.
“Apart from going to rugby? No.”
“Would you like to go to Waiheke? After the game.”
“Just the two of us?”
He nodded, pulling up at a red traffic light. “Just us,” he confirmed.
“I’d love to.”
Connor let his breath ease out, a smile unfurling. He’d thought he’d have to persuade her to go away with him. All he’d needed to do was ask.
He flirted with asking her to bring her old school uniform, but wimped out. He was good at improvisation. Hell, it was hard-wired into all Kiwis. It was a well-known fact New Zealanders thought outside the box, and as a good, red-blooded Kiwi male, he fit the profile.
Bring on the weekend.
