In His Cuffs (8 page)

As it was Ladies’ Night, there were dozens of subs inside and outside, all shapes and sizes, all of them appealing in some way, from soft curves to lean lines. Some women he’d seen before. From their behaviour, others were obvious first-timers.

None of them interested him.

It went deeper than the fact he’d recently had sex. But that was where it had to end.

David was a man of his word He intended to keep his end of the deal he’d made tonight with Maggie. He didn’t fraternise. He kept his professional boundaries firm so that no employee would try to curry favour. Each week he signed pay cheques, and he didn’t want anyone worrying that if they rebuffed an advance or didn’t invite him to a party that their job was on the line. Everyone knowing where he stood made life simpler.

Since he didn’t socialise much, he spent considerable time by himself.

Not that he minded.

It had taken him a while to admit he was probably better off alone. His ex-wife had called him selfish.

When he’d got married, he’d thought it was forever. He’d never wanted a divorce. Worse, he hadn’t seen it coming. One day, six years ago, he’d arrived home from work, hours later than he’d planned. A plate of cold food had been sitting on the table. All of Sandra’s belongings had been gone.

It had taken that for him to admit he had an obsessive personality. His single-minded focus on what he wanted excluded everything else in his life.

In the settlement, he’d instructed his lawyer to give Sandra everything she asked for. She’d unselfishly given him six years of her life—she deserved financial compensation as well as the happiness he hadn’t provided for her.

He wasn’t bitter, he was just wiser. Avoiding relationships was better for the woman, if not for him.

Allowing himself the freedom to think about Maggie for even five minutes would be a bad decision. They’d work together until her employment contract was up, and that would be the extent of their future involvement.

Still, he fingered the handcuffs hanging from his belt loop.

Despite his most powerful intentions, he couldn’t help but think about tightening them around her wrists.

He wanted her on her knees and in his cuffs.

Chapter Four

Stark raving mad.

Thoughts of David Tomlinson were going to drive Maggie insane.

Instead of getting out of her car and walking the few blocks to the Market Street offices, she sat there staring at the Rocky Mountains. Even the stunning sight of bright sunshine splashing on the distant peaks couldn’t banish images of David from her mind.

Ever since her father had passed when she was ten, Maggie had prided herself on her predictable, responsible behaviour. She’d helped her mother with cooking and cleaning. Maggie had learnt to set an alarm clock and get herself to school. She’d secured a college scholarship and had worked as a waitress so she’d never have to ask her struggling mother for anything.

Even when she was ill, Maggie showed up to work on time to unlock the door. She didn’t trust her mother to do it. When ideas were flowing, Gloria often stayed up all night. Even in the best of circumstances, time seemed to be a vague concept to her.

A number of people had keys to the office. David was almost always early. Anyone could open up, but Maggie felt it was her responsibility to be there for the official start of business. So why was she still in the vehicle at ten past eight, fingers curled around the steering wheel?

In her typical fashion, she forced herself to face facts. She was stalling.

At the Den, she’d been filled with bravado. She had promised herself she could strip down, accept a spanking from her boss and finish with him fucking her. Why not? As she’d said, they were both adults. The incident was an interlude in their lives and had no bearing on their work relationship.

When she was dressed, looking at him with his armband and bare chest, she had realised she’d been lying to herself.

The scene had been scorching hot.

Over the years, she’d been with many Doms. Most of them had been fantastically good and had made sure she was satisfied. But David had been focused, pushing her, demanding her full participation.

Feeling conflicted, wanting to pretend it was another in a long series of one-off scenes, but already picturing a continuation, she had tried to leave, only to be stopped by Master Damien. It would have been rude to brush past him, and really, when the house’s owner requested a moment, a sub gave it to him, no matter what he or she was dealing with.

He’d looked at her enquiringly and let her know he’d checked on her while she played with Master David.

She’d promised Master Damien she was okay, but she suspected he’d seen through her tremulous smile. She’d reassured him that David had been a considerate Dom.

After a few more questions, Master Damien had allowed her to leave.

She’d caught the first available bus back to Winter Park. When Vanessa had arrived at the hotel sometime after midnight, she hadn’t cared that Maggie was in bed. Instead, Vanessa had flipped on a light, poured them each a glass of wine and demanded to know every last, little detail.

Since they were best friends, they were always there for one another. Therefore, Vanessa had vicariously lived through the whole fiasco with the company’s acquisition. Maggie had felt a bit betrayed by her mother’s lack of honesty about the firm’s financial situation. Because her lax attitude towards bills and collections had put them in a precarious position, Gloria had opened the door to the takeover.

Vanessa had made Maggie see a brighter side, and they’d laughed as they’d painted a picture of David Tomlinson with horns and a pointy tail. More than anyone, Vanessa knew how complex Maggie’s relationship was with David.

Upon learning Maggie had just been screwed by the handsome devil-Dom—literally as well as figuratively—Vanessa had bounced on the bed’s edge and predicted that Maggie would beg Master David to spank her again, within a fortnight.

Hearing Vanessa call her boss Master David had made Maggie a little dizzy. To her, Master David was a totally different person than the one she worked with and was obligated to.
Wasn’t he?

Maggie wasn’t sure how she was going to act towards him today. Cool? Professional? Nonchalant? Or maybe warmer than normal? For certain, she would not behave like a submissive. She’d meet his gaze, talk to him as an equal.

She’d half expected to hear from him yesterday. But the phone had remained silent. Her nerves were taut.

Reminding herself she wasn’t a coward, she determinedly unwrapped her hands from the death grip she had on the steering wheel.

She gathered her purse and briefcase, kept her sunglasses on her face to disguise the weekend’s lack of sleep then exited and locked the vehicle.

Pretending this was a day like any other, she purposefully walked towards the brick building that housed World Wide Now. As she neared the entrance, her shoulders slumped a little. She could be in denial all she wanted. But most Monday mornings she didn’t arrive at the office bearing a welt her boss had left on her ass.

She drew a breath, smoothed her skirt and hair, dropped her sunglasses in her purse then opened the door and stepped inside.

The receptionist sat at the front desk, a huge mug of coffee in front of her.

“Morning, Mags,” Barb greeted.

“Tell me there’s more of that coffee?” she asked hopefully.

“Are you kidding? I just put on the second pot. Should be about done.”

“How long have you been here?”

“Eleven minutes.”

Maggie laughed. Good thing coffee went on the office supplies line item in the budget. Mr Tomlinson didn’t have to know how much was actually spent on staples and paperclips as opposed to caffeine. “So,” she said. “What kind of mood is David in today?”

The receptionist shrugged. “No idea. I haven’t seen him yet.”

“Meaning he’s in his office with the door closed?”

“Meaning he hasn’t shown up yet. I was the first one here today.”

Maggie blinked. World Wide Now had flexible work hours, except for certain prescheduled meetings. David Tomlinson was a by-the-rules and by-the-clock owner. Employees coming and going at all hours didn’t sit well with him and was one of the reasons he often reached for one of the many primary-coloured stress balls that he kept on his credenza. In all the time he’d owned the company, he’d never shown up late.

“He didn’t call in or anything.” Barb shrugged. “Since he’s not here, it’s kind of a mini-vacation for us. You should enjoy it.”

Maggie felt like a deflated balloon.

It had taken her all morning to psyche herself up, and he wasn’t even here?

After getting a much-needed cup of coffee, she headed for her office and slumped into the chair behind her desk.

She checked her emails and voice messages. There was nothing from David, but she had a response from a potential client she’d been trying to schedule a meeting with. She also had a message from their preferred caterer. Maggie and her mother had decided to host an open house as a way to increase business and introduce David to their existing clients. It would keep her busy for a while and, honestly, give her something to fixate on other than her boss spanking her again.

She wished the scene at the Den hadn’t met so many of her turn-ons.

Damn.

With determined focus, she sent a list of possible times to the potential new customer, studied the catering menu and made some notes to go over with David, since he now had to approve her budget. An hour later, her coffee was gone, she’d handled all the urgent tasks and she still hadn’t heard from her boss.

Her mother, however, showed up in a long, flowing skirt and tank top, with jewellery dripping everywhere—necklaces, bracelets, earrings, even toe rings. She’d obviously dyed her hair over the weekend, and her fingernails were manicured. She looked fresh and radiant and, as she theatrically threw herself into a chair, every inch a creative diva.

“What are you drinking?” Maggie asked, looking at the plastic cup her mother held. The liquid was deep green with chunks of something floating at the surface.

“Green tea latte. With soy.”

“Lactose intolerant again?” she asked.

“Still,” Gloria corrected.

She hadn’t been on Friday when Barb had brought in flavoured cappuccinos with whipped cream on top.

“Where’s the tyrant?”

“David?”

“Who else would I be talking about?” Gloria sipped through the straw and wrinkled her nose before schooling her features.

Maggie was betting the green tea phase wouldn’t last past Wednesday. “He’s not here yet.”

“I need his signature on a contract.”

With a sigh, Maggie nodded. For so long, it had been just the two of them. Since she’d joined forces with her mother about five years ago, they’d made quick decisions then moved forward. Gloria had signed all the contracts. Between the two of them, they’d handled all the negotiations. Now David double-checked everything, verified the math, set deadlines and reviewed every file. It was time consuming.

But, if Maggie were honest she’d admit that his attention made everything at World Wide Now run smoother than it ever had in the past. Last quarter, they’d posted their first double-digit profit. They had projections of how much profit they’d make per job.

On a daily basis, the staff complained about his interference, but the truth was, the business would have needed to downsize or relocate to a less expensive zip code if he hadn’t come along when he had. Her mother might chafe at answering to a man, and a young one at that, but there was no doubt she was now producing her best work.

David Tomlinson believed in exploiting each person’s talents. Sometimes that meant assigning them to a new position. In Gloria’s case, it meant getting her entirely out of the bookkeeping. She no longer saw bills. Even better, someone else was tasked with handling collections. Getting the financial burden off her shoulders had given her a lot of freedom.

He’d been right to restructure the staff’s responsibilities, but she wished her mother’s confidence hadn’t been undermined by his high-handed ways. Then again, that was probably the only way he knew. The man was assured, directive. Domineering.

“I’d like this contract to go out today,” Gloria said.

“Call him?” Maggie suggested, grateful her mother had interrupted her musings.

“Maybe Barb can.”

“Mother, he’s not an ogre.”

“That’s the first time I’ve heard you defend the man.”

Was it? Had she really been so swept up in her disdain for the employment contract that she never said anything good about him? “Maybe I need more coffee.”

“You do look tired.” Gloria narrowed her eyes. “What did you do this weekend, anyway?”

“Went to the Den.”

“That explains it. I may have to go with you sometime. Sounds like a kick.”

“Why not? Maybe you can find someone to keep you in line, finally.”

“On second thought…” With that Gloria stood, creating a cacophony with her clanging metal jewellery.

Just then, David appeared in her doorway.

Maggie’s breath vanished in a shocking rush.

He propped his shoulder against the jamb, and he filled the entrance. Damn. She’d spent all of yesterday trying to convince herself he wasn’t one of the most handsome men she’d ever seen.

When she’d shut her eyes in bed last night, memories had tormented her. She’d tossed and turned before finally getting up and watching three hours of television.

And now… His dove-grey suit hugged his broad shoulders. His tailored pants snuggled his strong thighs. He had on a white shirt and a red tie with the knot tight. She would greet him, if she could make her tongue work.

“Ladies,” he said.

“Good afternoon,” Gloria said pointedly.

Since it wasn’t even ten o’clock, Maggie winced. For the first time, she wished her mother would at least pretend to be cordial. If they could all work as a team, perhaps the business could reach his lofty goals. Everyone, including her mother, would benefit from that.