The Bottom Line
Spicing up her sex life sounds exciting…until the fantasy hits the fan.
When Maggie Drummond buys an erotic romance novel by mistake, she gets more than an unexpected eyeful. She gets an introduction to a world that arouses her to a fever pitch. Spanking.
Her boyfriend isn’t interested in pushing his vanilla-flavored sexual boundaries. Then there’s Connor Grey, who haunts her fantasies like a magical genie. As a source of masculine advice for her and her female friends, he’s off limits. The only safe place to explore her fetish is her anonymous blog.
The recent changes in Maggie don’t escape Connor’s notice. Now that her boyfriend has dropped her, he can finally—carefully—make his move. Given his family history, laying a hand on any woman, even in fun, is a line he’s reluctant to cross. But for Maggie? Anything the lady wants.
As Maggie gives in to the temptation to let Connor add some sin to her life, she finds herself juggling lies, half-truths, friendship and sensual delights. Her job is in jeopardy—and she’s falling in love. Exploring her fantasy is one thing, but she’s beginning to question if indulging her own pleasure is worth the cost to everyone around her. Especially Connor…
Warning: Contains explicit sex, spanking, and the good, the bad and the ugly about friendship.
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This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
577 Mulberry Street, Suite 1520
Macon GA 31201
The Bottom Line
Copyright © 2010 by Shelley Munro
ISBN: 978-1-60504-985-4
Edited by Linda Ingmanson
Cover by Scott Carpenter
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
First
Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
electronic publication: April 2010
The Bottom Line
Shelley Munro
Dedication
Thank you to Jina Bacarr for your enthusiasm and help with The Bottom Line during the initial stages. Your advice and input was invaluable.
Thanks to Fedora for reading this story and giving me such great feedback. I appreciate your help more than I can say.
For my editor Linda Ingmanson. Thanks so much. This story is much better after your editorial eye.
And last, but definitely not least, thanks to Paul, my original sounding board. You’re the best.
Chapter One
“Your turn, Maggie.” Julia’s eyes sparkled with devilment.
“Already?”
Yikes
. Maggie Drummond grabbed her margarita off the table and took a fortifying sip. The tart, icy liquid did nothing to quell her jitters.
It was time—
Tell a Secret
to the gang from work. The Tight Five, they called themselves, the name taken from a rugby term where five players bound in a tight formation to face the opposition team. They were like that. Five friends who worked in close proximity at an accountancy firm and who maintained the friendship away from the job. The good and the bad—they knew each other well.
Julia had spilled the beans about her latest boyfriend on a night much like this over margaritas. A blow-by-blow description of the seduction. The red crotchless panties. The blue pubic hair. Soon their love of gossip grew into a weekly ritual at the Cock and Bull, a “You tell me yours, I’ll tell you mine” kind of thing.
The crowded pub rocked with music and erotic promise. Maggie squirmed, avoiding catching the gazes of her three friends. She never had anything worth telling.
Until today.
Fidgeting with her drink, scratching at an imaginary zit, clearing her throat a dozen times wasn’t helping. She was losing her nerve and losing it fast.
“C’mon, Maggie. Tell us your secret,” Julia shouted.
Maggie slouched in her seat as several heads turned her way, giving her the once-over.
Why did Julia have to yell?
Okay, so the men sitting at the next table wouldn’t hear her over the pounding throb of guitars, saxophone and the male vocalist headlining in the packed bar. She hoped.
Susan and Christina nodded with enthusiasm, grinning, their attention focused on her. Maggie hated the limelight, always had since a childhood filled with her mother’s antics and histrionics. The big
event
that had sent her scurrying north to hide in Auckland had helped cement Maggie’s resolution to stay away from the glare of publicity. Sighing, she forced her thoughts from the past and wondered if this was a good idea. It wasn’t too late to stop, yet gut instinct forced her on, telling her she was an adult. Free to make choices and deal with the consequences. She wasn’t her mother, despite her father and stepmother’s harsh words.
The fine tremor of nerves slipping down her arm confirmed her disquiet. The slushy ice in her margarita tinkled against the edges of the glass, jogged by the quiver of her hands. She set her drink on the table and sucked in a deep breath, steeling herself to blurt out her secret. Not a feeble confession, like it usually was. Today she had a real secret.
Get it out
.
She opened her mouth and closed it again. She couldn’t. Sure, it was a game they played when there were a few drinks involved—margaritas usually. But this time was different. It was her innermost desire she was about to reveal. The others had taken their turns and giggled like schoolgirls instead of employees of the staid Barker & Johnson, one of Auckland’s premier accounting firms. They’d released their inhibitions—a side effect of Friday night drinks and the promise of a long holiday weekend.
Now the floor belonged to her.
She licked her bottom lip, stress bubbling in the pit of her stomach. Time to produce a secret.
“What are you waiting for, Maggie?” Susan asked in a sing-song voice. “We’ve told you ours.”
“
Secret. Secret. Secret.
” Christina banged her palms on the edge of the table. Julia and Susan joined in the beat, their eyes gleaming with challenge in the dim light of the booth.
Maggie picked up her margarita and gulped to moisten her dry mouth. “Okay.
Okay.
”
Placing her glass on a coaster, she glanced around the bar. No doubt about it. People were starting to stare. Time to spill her secret before things turned ugly. After another deep breath, she dropped her gaze to her clasped hands. “I’ve started a website called BigBadAss.com.” She spoke so quickly the words ran together. Once finished, she scanned each of her friends in turn, anxious now for their reactions.
“Big bad ass?” Christina’s watchful eyes held curiosity while her lips curved in an approving smile. She pushed her frameless glasses up her nose with perfectly manicured copper fingernails. “Isn’t that pretty racy for you?”
“What’s the big deal?” Julia scoffed and tossed her head before Maggie could answer. Her blonde hair stirred and settled in sexy curls around her almost bare shoulders. Shoestring straps held her low-cut black top in place. “It’s just a website.”
“Who’s a bad ass?” Susan smirked. “Don’t say Greg has gone and found some balls?”
“Bother, I have a smear.” Christina rifled through her handbag for a tissue to clean her glasses. “Anyway, I want to hear more about this website.”
Questions. Maggie had expected them, but the comments and queries didn’t put her at ease. Her stomach vibrated like one of her younger brother’s toys—over-wound and about to fly apart. She wiped sweaty palms on her sensible navy skirt, swallowed and said, “It’s more of a blog.”
“A blog about what?” Julia asked, rolling her eyes. “Desperados? Bandits? What’s a bad ass?”
Maggie closed her eyes briefly to summon courage. This next part was worse. Her teeth clacked when she closed her mouth. The longer her hesitation, the worse the mental strain would become. Big bad ass, she wasn’t. More like a marshmallow, burnt on the outside with a gooey interior.
“I explore…um…my adventures in spanking,” Maggie said, forcing a smile. “Does anyone want another drink?”
“Spanking,” Susan cried out as the band ended their song and the haunting notes of a sax faded. Everyone in the vicinity heard her shocked shriek. Heads turned, customers surveying them with distinct interest. Two men at a nearby table leered. Their dark suits suggested they worked at the lawyer’s office next door, but their toothy smirks told Maggie their minds crawled in the gutter, armed with floggers and paddles.
“Shush,” she muttered, aware of the two plum-sized patches heating her cheeks. “It’s a secret. I don’t want everyone to know.”
Christina picked up her drink, golden bracelets jingling with musical grace. “Since when were you interested in spanking, Maggie?”
“Yeah,” Julia demanded. “How long has this been going on?”
Susan smirked, her gaze darting from Christina to Julia and back to Maggie. “Does Greg spank you?”
“Um…” Oh, heck. She’d known they’d have lots of questions. Greg was her boyfriend. Solid, dependable and boring. How was she going to tell him? True, she was still a spanking novice, but Maggie was determined not to chicken out. She would explore spanking. It wouldn’t be like the fad diets she tried and failed.
Her spanking interest—or sickness, depending on how a girl looked at it—began with a book and some in-depth soul-searching along with a bottle of wine. She’d hauled her drunken self off to bed and, after reading more of the erotic romance, she’d had the best orgasm ever. Yeah, if she could scale those heights by herself, a real extravaganza lay ahead with a male lover. Right there, she decided to explore her wild side and the naughty spike of pleasure that jolted her right to the core every time she considered a swat on the ass. The fiery heat…
She could see the curiosity filling Susan’s blue eyes, the nosy interest mirrored in Christina and Julia’s faces. “You asked for
one
secret. I’ve given you one and you have to promise not to tell anyone.” Maggie had no idea where this new bravery had come from. It reminded her of her teenage years, and she liked its return. The inner Maggie cheered, enjoying the nonplussed expressions on her friends’ faces.
“What about Connor? We can tell him, right?” Julia toyed with her straw, cocking her head to the side as she studied Maggie. “He would have been here if his rugby coach hadn’t called an extra training session.”
“No!” Color climbed into Maggie’s cheeks. “Not unless you’re going to tell him your secrets as well.” A glower through narrowed eyes served as a warning, an attempt to enforce her will.
She closed her eyes briefly. Her recent behavior would appall her father and stepmother who still reeled over the scandal of Penisgate. More gossip about their daughter would send them over the edge. What had come over her lately? Maybe a vitamin deficiency or something. In addition to thinking about spanking and researching kink, her fantasies had sprung into full sexy Technicolor. They featured Connor, and it wasn’t his cooking skills that interested her.
It was wrong.
“You can’t tell Connor.” Her friends would kill her if they learned about her fascination with Connor, especially since they’d all agreed over a year ago he was off limits. His friendship and insight into the male mind was more valuable than momentary pleasure. None of them had experienced male friendship on this level before. Besides, the inevitable breakup would tear the Tight Five apart. Connor’s relationships didn’t last long.
Her crush on him was wrong on so many levels because she was still involved with Greg. But a bad girl struggled beneath her skin, trying to kick her way out in a bid for freedom. Her pointy boots were like sharp weapons, pricking at Maggie’s conscience.
“You can’t spill a delicious secret like this and not give us a little more. Please
,
I’m begging you,” Christina said. “I’ll give you a free makeover in exchange for details.”
“And I’ll contribute to the cost of the makeover.” Julia lifted her glass and toasted Christina. “Your fledgling business can’t take the entire cost of a freebie.”
“I’ll contribute too. See? That’s how bad we need the juicy details.” Susan lifted her glass, empty except for one ice cube. Frowning, she tipped the ice into her mouth and crunched it loudly. She swallowed without taking her attention off Maggie. “We need more drinks. Wait right there, Maggie, and don’t say another word until I get back.”
Susan grabbed a tray from under the table, stacked the empties on it and pushed through the throng of customers to get to the bar. Julia and Christina stared at Maggie in fascination. They gawked for so long she raised her hand to check for an extra nose.
“Stop staring at me. I feel like a specimen on a microscope slide.” Maggie shot to her feet. “I’ll go help Susan with the drinks. It’s my turn to buy, anyway.”
“You’re not going anywhere until you answer our questions.” Julia grabbed her arm, her blonde brows scrunched together. “By the way, where’s Greg tonight?”
“He’s at rugby training with Connor,” Maggie said, sitting back down. “They’re on the same team, remember?”
“Does he know about the spanking? Heck, I can’t imagine him with a flogger or a paddle—” Christina broke off, her eyes widening. “Does that mean you’re—” Part of a chortle escaped before she slapped a hand over her mouth to block the rest.
“You’re not spanking Greg, are you?” Julia asked, finishing her friend’s sentence.
“No one’s spanking anyone yet,” Maggie snapped, wriggling a little on her seat as arousal sped through her body. The merest thought of a perfectly placed thwack brought a rush of excitement. Not with Greg, though. Imagining Greg and spanking in the same sentence made her head ache. A big time problem, since he was her boyfriend. How did a girl broach the subject with her guy?
Honey, I want you to spank me.
Nope, it wasn’t something that came up in normal everyday conversation.
Susan arrived back with the tray of drinks in time to overhear Maggie’s reply. “Why not?” Her friend shunted a margarita across the pitted wooden tabletop and tossed two bags of peanuts and a bag of crisps at them. “Tell us why, Maggie, and don’t leave out a thing.”
Her friends’ expressions told Maggie escape would be impossible until they received an explanation. In detail. She dragged in another breath, which did nothing to still her skittish nerves. Best to spit it out so they could move on in conversation.
“When I flew to Wellington to visit my father and stepmother two weeks ago, I forgot to take a book with me. I was running late and grabbed the first one I saw with an interesting cover.” She grinned, remembering the hunky guy on the book jacket. “I didn’t realize I’d purchased an erotic romance until I’d boarded the plane.”
“You read romances in a public place?” Julia demanded, shocked.
Maggie shrugged. “The cover wasn’t graphic. Quite tasteful with a naked back and a sexy tattoo. Besides, I don’t care what anyone thinks about my reading material. I’m not apologizing for enjoying genre fiction.”
Not even to Greg
, she finished silently. His snide remarks pissed her off. These days she kept her erotic books out of Greg’s sight. It was easier than listening to a lecture about literary fiction.
“Don’t forget we know you,” Christina said, wagging a bejeweled finger in Maggie’s direction. “You don’t like talking to strangers, and shoving your nose in a book is a way to ignore people.”
“So I’m shy. Shoot me.” The truth was strangers who paid her attention scared her. There was always the chance it was a reporter who recognized her and wanted to dissect the past. Heck, recollections of Penisgate still gave her nightmares. Only when she came to know people did the wariness fade to manageable portions.
“Don’t change the subject.” Susan licked the salt off the rim of her glass, her long, straight hair falling forward to cover her cheek. Impatiently, she brushed it back, tucking the annoying strand behind her ear. “Get back to the spanking.” The foil packaging of the peanut packet rustled when she opened it. “Carry on.”
Maggie’s nose wrinkled in acknowledgment. Seemed prevarication wouldn’t do the trick. Her friends knew her too well.
“The romance novel was about a couple who used spanking as part of their sex lives. It…” She paused to lave her lips again, the resulting soreness telling her it was time to quit with the licking. “It turned me on,” she finished on a rush, her gaze dropping to her drink. Her quick sip gave her friends a convenient pause to slip in questions. They didn’t take advantage, remaining silent, waiting for her to speak again.
Bother
.
“It…ah, made me curious,” Maggie continued. “So I did some research and decided spanking sounded interesting, something I wanted to try.” And she still couldn’t believe she’d ignored her past experience and done something that might attract attention from others. She scanned her friend’s faces, waiting for them to say something, anything. “I suppose you think I’m some sort of freak.”