The Dom’s Submission: Complete Series by Ellis O. Day

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER 6:  Maggie

 

 

 

Maggie tried to keep her mind off Terry by repacking everything she’d just unpacked, but it reminded her of him. Not only because he’d helped her when she’d had no one else, but she was doing this because of him. It was over. He hadn’t called or come by. He’d moved on and that made her sadder than it should’ve. She’d known it was a temporary thing, but she’d thought she’d have more time.

She shouldn’t have texted him last night. Obviously, he wanted nothing to do with her. She grabbed her phone. She should’ve done this as soon as she woke but she kept hoping he’d show up or at least call. She had to salvage a bit of pride, not much, but any would help when she saw him again and she had to see him to talk about the car and the money.

She sent him another text.

 

MAGGIE: Last night, I wanted to ask if I could keep the car for a little while longer. Not long. I promise. I’ll buy one soon. Let me know.

 

She sighed and put her phone on her son’s bed. She grabbed a box and pulled the clothes from the drawer. She had the money to pay someone to move her things, thanks to the sale of the house. Thanks to Terry. But she couldn’t afford to pay anyone to help her pack. She hoped Terry wouldn’t make her move right away.

She’d have to return the car soon and talk to him about a payment plan for the money he’d given her to house-sit her own home. She was such a fool. How had she not suspected that it was him? No one else would do something like that. She blinked back the tears. He was a good guy—stubborn and domineering, but a good guy.

The doorbell rang. She hurried across the house. She flung open the door and her heart stopped. Terry stood on her porch—T-shirt wrinkled, hair wet like he’d just showered and he hadn’t shaved. Her stomach did a somersault. He was sexy as hell and she knew how good those whiskers felt on her thighs and neck.

“You can keep the fucking car forever as far as I’m concerned.”

Okay. He was a gorgeous asshole. “I can’t and I won’t.”

“When I saw your text…the first one, I thought you’d realized how stupid you were being.”

“Did you come here to insult me?” All the good feelings vanished as soon as that man opened his mouth.

“I came over because you wanted to see me.” There was a slight smirk on his handsome face. “Last night. Late. I can only wonder why.”

“Because we need to talk.” She was not going to admit that she’d wanted to have sex with him.

“Really?” He pulled his phone from his pocket. “At midnight?”

“Yes.” Her chin jutted out.

“Sounds more like a booty call.” He stepped closer, towering over her and desire flooded her veins.

“Well, it wasn’t.” She turned and walked into the living room. She had to put distance between them or she was going to grab him and kiss him. That’d keep his mouth shut…well, not really, but it would keep him from talking.

“Shame.” He followed, closing the door behind him.

She shot him a glare. “I wanted to talk about the car and making some kind of payment plan so I can repay the money you gave me.”

“What money? You refuse to trust me enough to take any. That’s our problem.”

“The money you gave me to watch the house.”

“Oh. That’s yours.”

“It is not.”

“It is too.” His jaw was tight and his eyes narrowed. He was barely controlling his temper and she wanted to poke him until he lost it. “I paid you for a service—watching my house. Are you moving?” He looked around the room. “There are more boxes than before.”

“Of course, I’m moving.”

“God damnit.” He ran his hand through his hair. “Stop being so fucking unreasonable.”

“I’m not. You are.” She closed her eyes. Now, he had her sounding like her kids. She took a deep breath. “I can’t take your money and sleep with you.”

“If it’s one or the other, I choose sex.”

“But you don’t. You keep trying to give me money.”

“I’m trying to take care of you.”

“I don’t need you to do that.” But part of her wanted him too. She wanted a partner, someone to lean on.

His jaw clenched and she swore she heard his teeth grind. He took a deep breath. “Let’s try again. Take off your clothes.”

“What? No. We can’t.” But she wanted to.

His lips thinned. “Then what am I doing here?”

“I didn’t text you for sex.” She had and if he’d shown up last night or early this morning, she, probably, would’ve jumped him in the doorway.

“Right.” He moved a box and sat on the couch. “Fine. Let’s talk.”

“Okay.” She sat on the chair across from him.

“First, you enjoy having sex with me, right?”

“Yes, but—”

He held up his hand. “Let me make my case.”

“This isn’t court.”

He shrugged. “Answer my question.”

“Yes. You know I do.”

“Great.” He grinned. “I like having sex with you too.”

Her face heated and her eyes dropped to his crotch where a large bulge was forming. When she looked up, he was watching her and his grin was even wider.

“Perhaps, we should have this discussion in bed, while I’m fucking you.” He shifted as if to stand.

“No.” She jumped up and moved behind the chair. She couldn’t fall into his arms again. Her will power was shaky as it was.

“Okay.” He leaned back on the couch and sighed. “Although, you really should consider having these conversations in bed. I’m much easier to persuade after a good fuck.”

“I’ll remember that.”

He nodded. “Two, you need money and I have plenty. Agree?”

“I don’t know how much money you have.” She crossed her arms over her chest and his eyes darkened. She dropped her arms and he smiled again. The man was driving her crazy.

“Trust me, I have enough to give you what you need.” He ran his hand down his thigh, drawing her gaze. “I have enough of a lot of things that you need.”

She licked her lips. He sure did. She shook her head. “That may be true—”

“You know it is.”

She bit the inside of her mouth to keep from laughing. He was such a male. “I’m still not taking your money.”

“Damnit. I can’t let you live somewhere that’s unsafe, not when I can stop it.”

“And I can’t take your money. It’ll ruin this.” She waved her hand between them.

“How? I don’t care about the money.”

“But I do.” She moved to the couch and sat next to him. “Every time you want me to do something new…in the bedroom, I’ll wonder if I agreed to keep the roof over my head or money in my pocket.”

“I’d never stop taking care of you because you didn’t want to do something.”

“You say that now, but things change. Trust me. My failed marriage…your failed marriage is proof of that.”

“Don’t compare this to my marriage.” The vehemence in his tone almost made her scoot away. “And don’t compare me to that dickhead you married.”

“David is not a bad guy.”

“Fuck me.” He stood. “He left you and his kids—his kids, not someone else’s—to basically fend for yourselves. You were moving to the fucking slum because of that cocksucker.”

“Not everyone has the money you do.”

“Do you know where he lives?”

“Yes.”

He paused. “You do?”

“I saw them the first time I went to your place.”

He studied her. “So, that’s why you decided to fuck me.”

“Not just because of that.”

“If you know where he lives then you know he’s not hurting for money.”

“That’s Stephanie’s money not his.”

“Jesus, Maggie, stop sticking up for him.”

“He was my husband for ten years. Yes, it’s over and yes, it hurt but he’d never do anything to harm his kids.”

“Un-fucking believable. Who got the money from the house?”

Her mouth opened and then shut.

“Both of you. Right? But he’s doing everything he can to take care of his kids?” He paused a moment as if waiting for an answer. “That’s bullshit. He has money. Stephanie is exceptionally rich. All the money from this place should’ve gone to you, to you and the kids.”

“H-he probably didn’t think about it. Or Stephanie made him keep it.” She was making excuses but she couldn’t face the truth that he’d let his kids move to a bad neighborhood when he didn’t have to.

“You can’t be that stupid. He’s a grown man. He could’ve done whatever he wanted with that money.” He leaned down, boxing her in. “And you know what else?”

She stared at him, her eyes darting to his lips. She hated him right now and yet she wanted to pull him close and kiss him.

“I don’t think he was broke when you got divorced.”

“What?” There was no way that was true.

“I think your ex lied about his business. Cooked the books, so to say.”

“No. David wouldn’t do that.”

“I think he would. I think he did.”

“No.” She shook her head. “He may have fallen out of love with me, but he’d never do that to his kids.”

“I know Stephanie.”

“You know her?” Lord help her, now she was jealous. “Did you and she…” She closed her eyes. “Sorry. That’s none of my business.”

“Damnit, Maggie.” He shoved away and this time he stood behind the chair. “It is your business if you want it to be.”

“Did you?”

“No, but I thought about it. She had her eyes out for a rich husband and I fit the bill.”

“She’s very pretty.” Thin. Well-dressed. Sophisticated. Everything Maggie wasn’t.

“She is but she’s not my type.”

She’d wanted him to say that Stephanie might be pretty but she was prettier or special or something. “Right. Thin. Rich and beautiful isn’t most men’s type.”

“She’s too pushy for me. She’d never make a good sub.”

Her lungs froze. He’d picked her because she was submissive. That was the only reason. “That explains a lot.” She stood. She had to get out of there before she cried.

“What did I say now?”

“Nothing.” She blinked back tears.

“Fuck.” He stepped around the chair.

“Don’t come near me.”

He stopped. “What do you think I said?”

“I know what you said.”

“What do you think I meant?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It sure as hell does. You’re about to cry.”

“I am not.” She was.

“Damnit, talk to me.”

“You only want me because I let you walk all over me. Boss me around. Tell me what to do.”

“Maggie.” He walked over to her and pulled her into his arms. “I like to be in control. I like women who like that about me. What’s wrong with that?”

“Y-you won’t like me if I don’t do what you want. As soon as I tell you no, you’ll stop wanting me.”

“If that were true, I wouldn’t be here right now,” he said against her head.

“I meant about sex.” She sobbed against his chest. He was so strong and safe. She never wanted to leave his arms.

“Any time you don’t want to do something sexually with me, just tell me. My job is to take care of you. Make you happy.”

“What’s my job?” she mumbled against his shirt.

“To make me happy by trusting me. By listening to me.”

“But I can’t take your money.” She cried harder. “I wish I could but I can’t.”

“Shhh.” He stroked her hair. “We’ll figure this out.”

“You mean, you’ll make me do what you want.”

He chuckled. “You know me so well.”

She pulled away, wiping at her eyes. “This isn’t going to work. I’m sorry.”

“Why? We both get what we want.”

“You think I want your money?” She pushed his chest and stepped out of his embrace.

“I didn’t mean that.”

“What did you mean? Because we both get sex. I want it as much as you do.”

“I doubt that.”

“I don’t.”

His gaze heated again. “If that were true, we wouldn’t be arguing right now. We’d be fucking–for the second time.”

Second time? That meant the first would’ve been hard and fast, but this one would be slow and gloriously torturous—him bringing her to the edge and making her wait to come. Her panties dampened but she couldn’t give in now. “It is true but I have standards.”

“So, do I. I don’t fuck any woman, only the annoying ones.”

“Hey.” She crossed her arms over her chest again and his eyes followed. This time, she stayed like that, letting his gaze caress her breasts. “What exactly do you get from this besides sex?”

“I get to take care of you.” He moved a tiny step closer.

Her heart melted a bit, but she pushed those tender feelings away. “Not good enough.”

“But it’s true.”

“Nope. Not enough. If I get sex and your money, what do you get?”

His eye narrowed and she swore she could see his mind spinning for an answer.

“You can cook for me.”

“What?”

“Cook for me.”

“I’m not that good of a cook.”

His eyes sparkled and she braced herself. “Your cookies were delicious.” He moved a step toward her. “All your desserts are delicious.”

“I only made you cookies.”

“Made? Yes, but you fed me cake with whipped cream.” He licked his lips. “And cherries.”

“Oh. Right.” Her body was on fire. She’d missed him yesterday and by the hungry look in his eyes, he’d missed her just as much.

“You can make me little desserts that I can eat off your body. You can call them clit cakes or titty treats.” He moved closer. “They can melt with heat so that the longer they’re on you the harder I have to search for every last taste.”

“Oh…” Her mind was fuddled with desire and memories of her splayed out on the table, him searching for his dessert.

“The chocolate cake with whipped cream was fabulous, but I’d like something with honey next time.” He was right in front of her now and the heat from his body was making her tremble. “I think you’d taste fantastic covered in honey–sticky, thick honey. Think about how long I’d have to lick to get every last drop.” His hand wrapped around the back of her neck and she tipped her head, waiting for his kiss.

The doorbell rang.

“Ignore it.” His lips met hers and she opened for him, wrapping her arms around his neck as he pulled her against him.

The doorbell rang again.

“Mom! Mom! Davy’s puking. Open the door!” yelled Peter.

“Maggie,” said David, through the door. “Sorry about bringing the kids back early but Davy’s not feeling well and he wants his mom.”

“I have to go.” She pushed away from him and headed for the door, stopping mid-stride. “You have to leave or…or hide.”

“I’m not fucking hiding again.”

“Please. I don’t want my kids to know.”

The doorbell rang again.

“Hold on. I’m coming,” she hollered.

“You will be later,” he muttered. “Tell them I’m a friend.”

Her eyes dropped to his pants.

“Oh. Yeah. Right.” He walked toward her bedroom.

“The garage.” She grabbed his arm. “You can sneak out after David leaves.”

“I’m not going—”

“It’ll be hours before the kids go to bed.”

“Fuck.” He headed for the garage. “I’ll be back tonight.”