Magic Man Read online

  “Are you excited that it’s Friday, finally? Have you been anticipating this day all week?” He raised one eyebrow and smirked at me.

  “Of course. As the song says, everybody’s working for the weekend. TGIF. Fri-yay, and all that.” I sashayed away from him, enjoying the newfound confidence that came from nowhere.

  “I mean, Friday is our big date night, right?” Maxwell strolled behind me, his big legs eating up the barn aisle, ensuring that he didn’t have to hurry to keep up.

  “I don’t know, is it?” I washed my hands at the sink and didn’t look his direction. As I was drying my hands on a paper towel, Maxwell spun me around to face him.

  His eyes were hot on my skin, and I swallowed, feeling my own temperature start to rise in anticipation of his next move.

  I knew getting involved with Maxwell on a personal level was a terrible idea, but tell that to my heart. That particular organ fluttered dangerously every time he walked by. Hell, it skipped a beat or two just when I thought of Maxwell.

  And tell my body that getting involved with Maxwell was a bad idea. I wanted him with every inch of my being. I had a hard time sleeping at night, and I tossed and turned in my new sheets, wishing he was lying next to me, giving me pleasures I had only imagined before.

  I had it so bad for this man. I wouldn’t take this risk with my daughter’s future for anyone else.

  “Ivy will be spending the night with Casey at the bakery.” Maxwell leaned in to murmur these surprising words.

  “What? At the bakery?” I loved Casey already. We went over there nearly every day, and I tried to buy goodies for my daughter, and Casey always insisted on giving them to us for free. She and Ivy had hit it off, and I had even been in her apartment above the bakery last night for an impromptu game of war between the three of us.

  Casey was good people. I knew I could trust her. And I had met her boyfriend, Cade, too. I knew he was out of town starting this afternoon for some legal conference. I had been present when he tried to convince Casey to go with him, but she didn’t want to close her bakery for the weekend.

  “Yep. She said she was going to teach Ivy how to make cupcakes in the morning.” Maxwell leaned in even closer. “I told you I would take care of everything. So you and I can have our big date tonight, and you can have a good time without needing to worry about your daughter. Ivy will be in good hands.”

  I caught my breath as he pressed a soft kiss to my lips. “And you will be in good hands, too.”

  I pushed at his chest and took a step back, trying to look stern. “I don’t remember agreeing to any of this.”

  Maxwell cocked an eyebrow at me. “You want to be a good girl, though. I can see it in your eyes. Be my good girl tonight, Millicent.”

  That was so hot I was pretty sure my panties just caught fire.

  “What if I want to be a bad girl instead?” Damn, that sounded even more sexual aloud. Maybe I was getting good at this flirting stuff.

  Maxwell’s eyes darkened. “Then be my bad girl, baby.”

  Sign me up. Good girl, bad girl...whatever. I wanted whatever this man was offering.

  LATER, I RECONSIDERED my reckless flirting as I sat in my living room waiting on Maxwell to pick me up for our date. I had dropped Ivy off at the bakery, gushing my thanks to a knowing Casey, and then I had spent way too much time getting ready for tonight.

  Was I ready for this man? I mean, I wasn’t a virgin, obviously, but I might as well be. Shouldn’t I go out with someone... less intense? Less experienced than Maxwell seemed to be? Like riding a bike. Nobody just rode a bike their first time. Everybody knew, you started small, and then moved on from there. Dating Maxwell was like jumping on a Harley when what you really needed was a pink My Little Pony bike with training wheels.

  I remembered his spanking talk, and I trembled. That was crazy, though. People didn’t get spanked on first dates unless they went to one of those clubs where every man wore black leather, and the women wore next to nothing. Hmm. Maybe I should dig up my journal and write a fantasy about that?

  Nah, it sounded a little unhygienic. In reality, I would probably take hand sanitizer and cleansing wipes with me, and where would I keep that stuff? I don’t think those women carried purses.

  Anyway, was I ready for this date? Or was I assuming too much? Probably Maxwell had just been kidding about the spanking stuff. We would go to some nice little restaurant in town, or over in Mathiston maybe. Afterward, we would get ice cream and hold hands. Perhaps enjoy a pleasant kiss at the door before we parted.

  Yeah, that sounded more probable than a spanking, for Pete’s sake.

  It also sounded a touch disappointing. I couldn’t help but wonder what Maxwell’s hand would feel like on my bare backside.

  Was I a deviant for wanting to be spanked? I was reasonably sure that book that everybody was reading a few years back made spanking mainstream, so maybe I was okay.

  A knock on the door made me squeak in surprise.

  Geez, calm the freak down, Millie. It’s just Maxwell, right on time for our boring, regular date.

  I walked over and put my hand on the doorknob, taking a deep breath, once, then twice. Here we go.

  I opened the door.

  Maxwell was standing on the other side, looking delicious. Wearing dark jeans and a dress shirt, he made me weak in my knees. I bit my lip, staring at him.

  He broke the silence. “May I come in, Millicent?”

  “Oh! Yes, sorry.” Awkward, much? I had zero dating experience, but geez, I knew the basics of social interactions. I stepped back to let him in my apartment.

  Maxwell produced a bouquet of wildflowers from behind his back with a flourish, presenting them to me with a slight smile. I was struck by the romantic gesture, so at odds with his threat of a sexual spanking later.

  “Thank you. The flowers are beautiful.” I took the flowers to the kitchen and found an old vase that had belonged to my grandmother long ago. I busied myself adding water to the container, grateful for something to do with my hands.

  Maxwell followed me into the kitchen. “Somehow I thought you might like these more than roses.”

  “You are right. The small blue ones remind me of flowers my grandmother grew long ago.” I placed the vase on the countertop where Ivy and I ate our breakfast every day. She would get a kick out of them when she returned home tomorrow.

  We made the usual small talk about the impossibly hot weather as we walked down to his car. He had left it running while he fetched me from upstairs, and I thought it was a nice touch to slide right into a cold car. Even with the sun setting, the heat was almost unbearable.

  Maxwell pulled away from the barn. “You said your grandmother grew flowers. Were you close to her?”

  This was a topic I was comfortable talking about for hours. “Oh, yes. I wasn’t really close to her for the first fifteen years of my life, sadly. My grandfather died in a car accident years before I was even born, and so my mother didn’t have a lot of money growing up. First chance she got, she left home and married my father, who came from money.” I reflected back on my upbringing. “I guess I came from a life of privilege. Or at least, we certainly pretended to have money. I don’t know. Appearances were important to my mother, so she didn’t spend a lot of time with her mother. That meant I didn’t get a chance to really know my grandmother in my early years.”

  Maxwell glanced over at me as he continued to drive. “What changed that?”

  I swallowed hard. I hadn’t meant to reveal this much, especially this soon. “I’m sorry, Maxwell. Maybe we should talk about something more... I don’t know, carefree or something. I didn’t mean to bring up my dirty laundry.”

  Maxwell squeezed my hand and then linked our fingers together, and he rested our joined hands on my thigh. “I would like to hear the rest of this story.”

  I took a quick look at his face. He really did seem interested, so I took a deep breath and continued. “I got pregnant. My mother wasn’t thrilled about that.
I mean, what mother would be? So I took a chance and basically ran away from home. I showed up on my grandmother’s doorstep because I had nowhere else to go. I took a risk that she would give me shelter, and as it turned out, she gave me a lot more than that.”

  Maxwell drove in silence for a few moments, and then he made a quick turn on to a side road. He took us to a small overlook. A noisy river splashed below. There were picnic tables scattered around, and it seemed like an excellent spot for families to come and hang out. Thanks to the heat it was currently deserted, and I looked at Maxwell in question.

  Why had he brought me here?

  He put the car in park and turned in his seat to face me. “You seem so fragile to me.” He held up one hand when my mouth opened, to say what I didn’t know. “I know you aren’t delicate. You can’t be to have raised such a great kid while developing your own career.”

  I thought over his words for a minute. A career? I always thought of my work as a job, a way to pay the bills doing something I loved. But he was right. I was good at it, and I had slowly been finding jobs that offered more pay, responsibility, and opportunity over the years. If that wasn’t the definition of a career, I didn’t know what was.

  Maxwell rubbed the back of his hand over my cheek, encouraging me to look at him. “I don’t want to push you too far, too fast, but I would like to know. Where’s Ivy’s father? You must have been terribly young when you had her.”

  I nodded, deciding that I could trust him. “I was fifteen when I found out I was pregnant. Before that, I had a crush on her father, spent time with him at a school dance, and was looking forward to my first kiss.”

  I swallowed and looked away. I needed to keep my emotions in check. Once I was sure my voice would be steady, I started talking again. “He raped me that night.”

  Maxwell uttered a muffled curse, but I didn’t look at him. “I never really told anybody that, to be honest, not really. I tried to tell my mom, but she didn’t want to hear it.”

  “You didn’t report him to the police?” Maxwell sounded like his teeth were clenched, but I still didn’t look at him.

  “No.” I laughed with a touch of bitterness. “His dad was the mayor. Even at fifteen, I understood that life might be easier if I kept my mouth shut. So that’s what I did.”

  Maxwell cursed again. This time I looked directly at him. “It’s okay. Karma came back to bite him on the ass. He got drunk during a fraternity hazing episode his first year of college, and he died from alcohol poisoning.” I squeezed Maxwell’s hand. “I kept up with him on the down low, just in case he ever thought about popping back into my life and causing trouble for Ivy.”

  There was a long silence. Finally, Maxwell spoke up. “So at fifteen you were the victim of a rape, your parents didn’t support you, and you ran away to live with your grandmother?”

  “Yep, that about sums it up. I lived with my grandmother until I was twenty when she died kind of unexpectedly. But I was grateful for the time we had with her. She was an unbelievable help for me during my pregnancy and Ivy’s early years. I can’t even describe all the ways she made our lives better.”

  Maxwell cupped my face with his free hand. “Then I’m damn glad you had her.”

  I smiled. “Me, too. She was a special, giving lady.”

  I watched his mouth as his face descended towards mine. He moved slowly and with an extra gentleness. He pressed tiny kisses down my jawline and made his way toward my lips. We kissed for a long time, making out like teenagers. But Maxwell had more skill than any teenage boy could ever dream of, and for the first time in my life, I wondered if I had really missed out on much over the years.

  If I had missed out, Maxwell was more than making up for it.

  “Did I scare you with all my spanking talk? You have to know I would never hurt you.” Maxwell dropped a kiss on the end of my nose, making me smile again.

  “No, you didn’t scare me. Much. I have to tell you, just in case you are expecting something else and get disappointed...I’m not experienced. Not at all. This is my first date, in fact. I’m embarrassed to admit that to you.” I gave a wry twist of my lips and glanced away. I was embarrassed, but it was better to be honest than to disappoint him later.

  “Why would you be experienced, and why would you be embarrassed?” Maxwell sounded exasperated.

  “I’m twenty-five. Most women my age have had multiple sexual partners. I mean, at least two or three. I’ve never even been kissed before you.” I needed him to understand, so I spoke bluntly.

  “You were raped as a teenager before you could discover dating. And then you were pregnant. And then, after all of that, you were raising a small child on your own. I’ve been watching you, and I had you checked out before I recommended hiring you. I know you are all about Ivy, and that everything you do is to provide a stable life for her.”

  Surprised, I pulled back from him.

  “Am I wrong?” He asked me calmly.

  “No, I’m just surprised you know so much about what motivates me.” I ran a hand through my hair, thinking it all over.

  Maxwell really had been paying attention, hadn’t he? Again, I thought about the rumors that he had psychic powers. I wondered instead if he just didn’t miss much, if he picked up on details that most people overlooked, and those perceptions made him extra intuitive.

  “I didn’t expect you to be experienced. I didn’t know you had been raped, however, and I don’t want to do anything that triggers bad feelings in you.” He twisted his lips. “It would be tragic if I did something that scared you away.”

  “I’m not fragile, Maxwell. You said it yourself. In fact...” My voice trailed off, and I looked away. We had been very frank with each other in the last several minutes, but I could feel my cheeks heating with fresh embarrassment over what I was about to reveal. “I have fantasies that are kind of rough, I guess.”

  Maxwell cupped my face again and turned my head to face him. “I’m no psychology expert, but I doubt it is unusual for women who have been victimized to have fantasies that are maybe a little different than what people might expect. I don’t care about all that. I’m here to support you and give you whatever you need. Do you trust me?”

  I didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

  That was the truth. I don’t know why I trusted him so much, but I did. It was amazing that I had finally found a man that I trusted.

  “Then when the time is right, I want you to trust me to bring your fantasies to life.” He kissed me again. “But only when the time is right. There is no rush.”

  Maxwell sat back and put the car in drive. But he didn’t let go of my hand for the entire trip, and my heart was glad.

  Thirteen

  We finished the drive to the restaurant in silence, but it was a comfortable silence. Maxwell took us to a small Italian restaurant in Peacock, and the food was excellent. We talked about casual topics, which was a relief after the heavy conversation we had on the drive, and we had the ease of old friends.

  Maxwell reached for the last breadstick just as I did the same.

  His grin had a wicked bite to it. “Go ahead. You might need your strength later.”

  I was relieved he felt comfortable teasing me again, that our downer of a conversation about sexual assault hadn’t turned him off of me forever.

  “No, you eat it. I understand it’s important that people of your advanced age get three solid meals a day.” I get my face straight as I toyed with my fork.

  Maxwell’s grin left his face. “Keep it up. That spanking might need to be delivered sooner than I thought.”

  The thought of being turned over this man’s knee made me squirm in my seat. Oh, my. What a delicious idea.

  Maxwell noticed. “Maybe neither of us needs the breadstick. Maybe it’s time to return home.” He cocked an eyebrow at me, and I suddenly felt a wave of relief wash over my body.

  It hit me all at once that this beautiful man was going to wait for me to be ready. Those weren’t empty words he had m
urmured earlier because it seemed like the right thing to say. He was going to be patient and do things at my pace.

  I had known as soon as I met Maxwell that my body was in jeopardy, that I wanted to strip naked and kneel at his feet and wait for his every command. But now I knew that my heart was in trouble, too. I wanted to give him everything I had and more.

  Maxwell mistook my silence. “Or we could go catch a movie. The Peacock theater is small, but the popcorn is extra buttery to make up for it. It’s up to you.”

  I smiled, having found my peace. “I’d rather you take me home.”

  His face fell. “Okay, let me pay the check, and I’ll drive you home.”

  He thought I wasn’t having a good time? That I wanted the date to end? I wasn’t accustomed to Maxwell having a crisis of confidence, and I admit I relished having a small amount of control. Let him think what he wanted. As soon as we arrived back at my apartment, I was putting him firmly in the driver’s seat.

  We didn’t speak on the ride back, and I didn’t enjoy seeing the tension in his hands wrapped around the steering wheel. I searched for the right words to say, but I was still searching when we pulled up in front of the barn.

  Maxwell got out and came around to open my door, as usual for him. He held out his hand to help me out of the car, and I took it, glad to be touching him again.

  We walked upstairs, but he stopped me as I was about to unlock my door. “Millicent, I know tonight was a little intense, but I don’t want to scare you off. Please don’t retreat because I learned about what that asshole did to you years ago.”

  I pushed his arm away from the door and unlocked it. Walking into my apartment, I reached back to grab his hand and pulled him in behind me. Closing the door with a loud click, I turned to face Maxwell.

  “I want you.” I said my brave words without flinching because they were true. “My body is aching for you to touch me again. I’m scared, yes. Scared of disappointing you. Scared of how much I am feeling right now, but I’m more frightened that you will walk out that door, and it will be just me and the vibrator again tonight.”