She leaned forward as if doing so would allow her to see through the curtains. “So it’s like a police station? The mirror part, I mean. Not the rest.”

  “I’m not sure,” he replied, while thinking it had to be a question only Maggie would ask. “I’m not sure, having never been in a police station.”

  “What? You’ve never seen an episode of Law and Order before?”

  “Maggie,” he said, bringing his finger to his lips. “Shh.”

  He raised the curtain. Maggie gasped and dropped into her seat, eyes glued to the now visible couple.

  He’d decided the night before to ask two of the club’s staff members, one a professional sub, the other a professional Dom, to run a scene for observation. He’d spoken with the Dom about a few things but mostly, left everything up to the pro. Isaac bit back a laugh because a police station had been selected for the setting.

  The female sub was naked and bent over a desk, her wrists were handcuffed together, but she did not appear bound to the desk. Her red hair had been tied into a ponytail which showed part of her expression since they were positioned with profiles facing the mirror.

  Behind her and off to the side, the Dom stood so she could not see him if she turned to look in the mirror. A quick glance to his side showed Maggie was enthralled with the scene before her. She sat to one side of the love seat, her arm along one of the arm rests. To look at the overall picture she made, one would think she was relaxed. However, the white-knuckle grip she had on the end of the arm rest shot that theory straight to hell.

  He had not chosen to sit next to her originally, but as the couple began their play, he stood and not making a sound, sat down next to her. He draped his arm across the back of the love seat. Being this close to Maggie, he felt a tremor of excitement as the Dom before them walked to the submissive’s side, dragging his hand across her ass and giving it a hard smack.

  “There are many ways to bind a submissive,” Isaac said. “The one we see now has handcuffs on, but there’s more. What is it that keeps her bound to the desk?”

  “Sir?” Maggie asked, not moving an inch, clearly not wanting to look away from the scene for a second.

  He leaned close and whispered in her ear, “Why doesn’t she move? She can. Why does she stay when she has the freedom to stand up and leave?”

  There was no right or wrong answer. His hope was Maggie saw herself in the submissive’s spot. That in her mind, she was the one in handcuffs and bent over a desk. Because if she did, her answer would probably be why Maggie stayed.

  And he wanted to know her why.

  He didn’t fool himself into thinking it was because she was new to actual play and her reply would answer some intellectual hypothesis. No, if she pictured herself as the submissive, it was possible she saw him as the Dom. And he wanted to know why Maggie would stay where she was when he was prepared to use her.

  “Maggie?” he urged her. “Tell me.”

  She ran the tip of her tongue across her lips. “Him,” she said in a breathy voice. “She stays because he told her to get in that position and she’ll stay there until he tells her to move or else he picks her up and moves her himself.”

  He gave a hum of approval. “Very nice, Maggie.” He brushed a finger along her nape and delighted in her shiver. “Why does she do what he tells her? She’s a grown woman, probably has a full-time job, why should she do something just because a man tells her?”

  Maggie didn’t even stop to think about her answer. “Because in this moment, he’s not just a man. He’s her Master. She has nothing to give him that is worthy enough to show him what he means to her, what he does to her, how he makes her feel. So, she gives him the most precious thing she has.” Maggie lifted her shoulders in a small shrug, as if to say, it was nothing, but in fact, it was everything. “She gives him herself.”

  Although he had told himself there was no right or wrong answer, he wasn’t sure anyone could reply with anything more perfect than what she said.

  “Maggie,” he whispered.

  This time she turned away from watching the couple and when her eyes found his, they were searching. He didn’t know what for, he doubted she knew, but when she leaned forward ever so slightly and whispered, “Mr. Gregory,” everything other than her blurred.

  He brushed a few wayward curls out of her eyes, allowing his fingers to linger longer than necessary along her cheekbone. God help him, he’d known if he touched her once, he’d want more. He searched her expression, but found no trace of hesitation or uncertainty. Slipping his fingers through her hair, he pulled her close. “What am I going to do with you?”

  Her eyes sparkled. He’d always heard that expression and thought it didn’t make a bit of sense. But now he knew that was because he’d never known anyone filled with so much joy it simply had no choice but to naturally radiate from them.

  “I’m hoping you’ll kiss me,” she whispered.

  It was the best damn idea he believed he’d ever heard. Shoving aside every alarm and every voice in his head telling him all the reasons why he shouldn’t, he closed the distance between them and grazed his lips across hers.

  Maggie, however, clearly wanted nothing to do with grazing. The second he lifted his head, she murmured, “Let me touch you.”

  “Yes.” It slipped from his lips effortlessly and without thought, other than the thought about how he desperately wanted her hands on him.

  At first she was tentative and unsure, but he shifted so she felt his length, hard and straining against the confines of his pants. “That’s what you do to me,” he said. “How your touch makes me react.”

  His words made her bold. Her touches were no longer hesitant. With what felt like renewed and excited energy she tugged at his shirt, trying to pull it loose. Somewhere between her hand sneaking into his waistband and the unexpected gasp she gave when he nibbled the side of her neck, he made himself push away.

  Maggie whimpered and attempted to pull him back. It would be so easy to allow it, to just give in, and let what happened to happen. But Isaac couldn’t afford it. Not professionally by going too far with an employee and not here at the club where he was too highly regarded to forget himself over a few sweet kisses and touches he’d already decided shouldn’t happen.

  “We’re missing the scene.” He pulled her to his side, wrapping his arms around her and holding her close, not caring if he should or not. He wouldn’t allow himself to kiss her again, but he’d be damned if he’d keep his hands off her. She snuggled into him and sighed, a picture of utter contentment.

  Before them the scene played on, the couple on the other side of the glass unaware they’d been ignored for the last ten or so minutes. The Dom had blindfolded his sub and was spanking her with a wicked looking paddle.

  “Do you enjoy being spanked, Maggie?” Isaac asked. “To be bent over with your bare ass up in the air waiting for your Dom to redden it? Waiting for the feel of his hand to strike your flesh? Wanting it so bad and yet not sure because you know it’ll hurt? And even that doesn’t make you want to leave, does it? Why is that?”

  “Because I want them both,” Maggie said, her focus on the woman on the other side of the glass writhing under the hand of her Dom. “I want the pain and the pleasure and I want to feel how hard you get while you’re using me like that. And then when you finish I want to kneel before you and take your cock in my mouth so I can suck you and make you come in my mouth. You hold my mouth closed to ensure I swallow everything you gave me. I can’t tell you at that moment because my mouth is full but you don’t have to do that. There’s nothing I want more than to show you with my mouth how wonderful you make me feel and that includes swallowing.”

  Holy hell, he had not anticipated Maggie having a dirty mouth, and it turned him on more than he already was, which he wouldn’t have thought possible ten minutes ago.

  “Is that a spreader bar?” Maggie asked, with a nod toward the couple.

  The Dom had placed the paddle on the desk and now carried a spreader bar. He left it on the ground near her feet, ran his hand over a reddened butt cheek, and said something that had his sub shaking her head.

  “Yes,” Isaac confirmed. “I happen to like them as well. Very useful to have on hand when a sub is a bit shy about being spread wide. Is that something you would enjoy being used on you?”

  She indicated it was, and he made a note to have her fill out a checklist for him. She’d filled one out for the club, it was a standing rule that one had to be in place before a person could enter, but he wanted her to do a separate one for him.

  Beside him, Maggie’s breath hitched slightly, eyes still locked on the couple. Isaac looked that way and saw the Dom had lubed his cock and had it in hand, easing it gently into the sub’s ass.

  “Have you ever had anal sex, Maggie?” he asked.

  “No, Mr. Gregory,” she said but couldn't tear her gaze from the scene. “Ellis said it was unnatural. But I’ve always wanted to try it. At least once.”

  Part of Isaac wished Ellis was still around so he could ask him what his deal was and why he refused to at least try some fantasies Maggie had. Then again, on second thought, it was better this way. Ellis’s loss was Isaac’s gain. He had no problem helping Maggie explore her sexuality.

  Or he wouldn’t if he hadn’t been so damn quick to offer her a job.

  Chapter Eleven

  As she waited for Isaac to pick her up the next day, Maggie wished she hadn’t taken the assistant job. From what she could tell, as long as she worked for him, Isaac wouldn't go any further than the kiss they’d shared the night before. And frankly, that sucked hairy balls because that kiss had been amazing. If a simple kiss had been so great, thinking about how amazing everything else would be with Isaac sent her mind spinning with naughty fantasies.

  She’d enjoyed watching the couple play at the club the night before. And though Isaac had asked her a few questions when it was over, he made it clear he didn’t play with employees. She gave more than a minute’s thought to quitting but decided against doing so. No need to give the in-laws more ammunition to use against her. For now, her naughty fantasies would have to stay just that.

  Five minutes before he was due to arrive, she made her way down to the lobby. If she’d learned anything about Isaac, she’d learned he was always early to everything. Somehow, she wasn’t surprised to find him already outside, waiting.

  Once he spotted her, he hopped out of the car and walked around to open the passenger side for her.

  “Thank you,” she said calmly, or at least as calm as possible when he was standing there looking like sex personified. He wore a light tan suit, but no tie. The shirt he wore didn’t have the top buttons fastened. Not to mention its blue hue brought out the color in his eyes, making them somehow bluer than normal. This casual, weekend Isaac would be the one that made her slip up and mention how much she wanted to do nasty filthy things with him.

  “Are we going to Lance’s grandmother’s house?” she asked as Isaac headed out of the city. When she called her that instead of Barbara Murphy she could pretend in her head the woman could be anyone and not more than likely a friend of her in-laws.

  “Yes,” Isaac said. “Lance lived with her part time before he moved to London and the scholarship students do as well. I don’t think any of them are living at the estate at the moment, though.”

  Which made sense in her mind. If she was a scholarship student, she wouldn’t want to live with someone like the Warrens who would forever hold it over their heads they were only where they were because of charity.

  Her stomach churned. She prayed she didn’t vomit all over the interior of Isaac’s car. God, she hated rich, snotty people.

  In no time at all, they pulled into a pretentious driveway she knew would lead to an equally pretentious house. Although ‘house’ would be a grievous insult to the obscene monstrosity she knew without a doubt would be at the end of the driveway.

  And she knew because her in-laws lived no more than five miles away.

  “Are you okay?” Isaac asked. “You look a bit green.”

  “I’m fine,” she said, deciding his word from a few days ago fit her mood perfectly. His expression said he didn’t believe her, but he didn’t verbalize his thoughts.

  As expected, the house was every bit as grand and showy as she’d pictured. She took a deep breath as Isaac opened her door and helped her out.

  “No,” he said, placing a hand on the small of her back and leading her up the walkway to the house. “You’re not fine. Not at the moment.”

  “Yeah,” she said in a half snort. “I’ll be fine when I get to leave this place.”

  They came to a stop at the front door. He dropped his head to her ear and whispered, “Trust me.”

  The warmth of his breath against her skin made her shiver. She wanted more than anything to believe him. But how could she when so much of her life experience had ensured she knew exactly the type of woman who lived behind that door?

  And what would happen when she turned out to be right? Who would shield her? Ellis had always kept his parents from doing their worst to her. She didn’t know Isaac well enough to expect him to do the same. Especially when it was the grandparent of a business partner. She didn’t need anyone to tell her who Isaac would choose if he had to pick between her and Mrs. Barbara Murphy.

  But he was looking down at her with such a look of expectation, she couldn’t tell him no. She gave him the best she could give at the moment. “I’ll try.” It wasn’t enough, and she knew it, but it was all she had.

  The front door flew open with an “Isaac!” that made her nearly jump out of her skin. It took a second for her to realize the sound came from an older woman, standing in the now open doorway.

  At first glance, she looked like all the other wealthy socialites over sixty Maggie had ever met. Perfectly coiffed hair. Expertly tailored designer suit. Sensible shoes. The only thing missing was the string of pearls.

  But then she did something Maggie had never seen a wealthy socialite do. She grabbed Isaac by the shoulders, brought him down to her level so he looked in her eyes and she told him, “You don’t get to stop coming by just because my grandson moved across the pond.” Then she wrapped her arms around him in a big hug.

  Barbara sniffled and pulled away, smiling at Maggie. “This must be your new assistant.” She held her hand out, not waiting for Isaac to make the introductions. “Barbara Murphy.”

  Still feeling more than a little shellshocked, Maggie took her hand. “Maggie Warren.”

  “Warren? No relation to Tobias Warren, I hope?” Barbara looked over her again, but more guarded. “There’s no way you could be related. Not with that many natural curls.”

  Maggie hoped she kept her grimace to herself. If not, at least she kept herself from throwing an I-told-you-so look to Isaac. It was worse than she’d expected. Mrs. Murphy actually knew the Warrens. “Only related by marriage. I’m Ellis’s widow.”

  “Oh dear, I’m sorry for your loss,” Mrs Murphy said. “I was unaware he had passed.”

  Her honesty surprised Maggie, and though she hadn’t planned to say anything else about anything having to do with the Warrens, she found herself adding, “It’s been a few years.”

  “No matter how long it’s been, it still hurts.” No judgement filled Mrs. Murphy’s eyes, only kindness mixed with a heap of understanding. The older woman held out her hand. “Come on inside, you’ll sit next to me at lunch. I’ll fill you in on widow secrets, but you must call me Barbara.”

  With a sense of relief, Maggie took the offered hand and walked with Barbara to the dining room.

  Isaac knew he’d made the right decision to insist Maggie join him when he heard Barbara say, “I met your Ellis once, he was a good man. Nothing at all like his father.”

  In the short time it took to reach the dining room and to sit down, Maggie had regained her natural exuberance and it seemed possible she might actually enjoy lunch instead of merely surviving.

  Barbara insisted Maggie sit next to her, and for a few minutes, he sat back and watched as they chatted. In fact, it wasn’t until they were halfway through with their entrees that Barbara put her fork down and addressed him.

  “Isaac,” she said. “The Wall Street Fine Arts Benefit is next month. Lance had agreed to host it last year, but of course that was before a certain violin virtuoso swept him off his feet and he moved to London because that’s what you do when you’re in love.”

  He stopped himself from saying he’d never followed a woman to London. Barbara had known him since he was in middle school and would quickly remind him that of course he hadn’t because he’d never been in love before.

  “Normally,” Barbara said. “I wouldn’t mind looking elsewhere for a host, but it’s only a few weeks away and I’m so far behind because Richard left and -”

  “What do you mean Richard left?” Isaac asked. Richard had been Barbara’s assistant for years. Lance always joked that the man was useless, but he had to be doing something since she’d kept him around for so long.

  Barbara waved her hand as if to say he was focusing on the wrong thing, but replied, “His granddaughter with the twins asked him to stay with them in Michigan for the summer.”

  Isaac frowned. Without Richard to help and since Lance was in London, he could easily picture Barbara running herself into the ground by agreeing to do too much. She’d done it before and wound up in the hospital. He wondered if Lance knew about Richard being in Michigan for the summer and quickly guessed he did not. “Does Lance know?” he asked.

  “I can’t imagine he does, I only remembered because one of the other board members asked if he’d be coming back to host.”

  “I meant does he know about Richard?”

  “No,” Barbara answered. “I’m not going to spend my time talking with Lance about Richard. He can’t stand the guy.”

  Her grandson would like him even less if he knew he’d left her without an assistant for the summer. “With good reason from the way it sounds.”