Marie Harte - Working Out

He seemed relieved. “Put them on.” He watched while she put them on and nodded. “She said you’d like them.”

“Who?”

“Kim. I wanted to get you something you’d like, but I knew if I asked Shelby, you’d find out. She’d tell Shane, and that big mouth can’t keep a secret to save his life.”

Maggie gaped. “You asked Kim what I’d like?” He’d gone to the trouble of asking a friend about her?

“She helped me out with a few ideas. So I called some guy and he made you these. I hope they’re okay.”

She touched the earrings, incredibly moved. “They’re amazing.” She stood, stunned, when she realized why she recognized the earrings. She’d seen a similar pair of amethyst earrings in the gallery. Steve Zeroi, a talented designer whose work had been on display at The Beholder, had crafted a pair that sold for over a thousand dollars. Maggie had loved the amethyst set but couldn’t afford the backing for one, let alone purchase the earrings. And Mac had gotten Steve to make her a pair ?

“It’s no big deal.” Mac looked uncomfortable, and she couldn’t help falling in complete and utter love. The big braggart she’d once thought him to be flushed over spending serious cash on earrings for his kind-of girlfriend. He could have bragged about how much they’d cost, because Steve didn’t do costume jewelry. He only used real gems. Holy crap, this must have cost a fortune. And Mac had bought them, had them made, for her.

She kissed him for all she was worth, and they broke apart, panting.

“So I guess this means I’ll get a blowjob tonight after all?”

She poked him when he laughed. “Jerk. Now go and sit still for my present. It’s two parts, actually. Nothing as grand as this, but I hope you like it.”

“Maggie, I’ll like anything you got me.” He toyed with a strand of her hair, the look in his eyes almost loving. “You’re so beautiful.” He brought her in for a kiss. “The earrings look good on you.”

Because she thought she might cry, she broke contact and teased, “Of course they do. Everything looks good on me.”

“Nice ego.” He snorted and sat down on the couch. He leaned back and spread his legs wide, giving her ample view of the arousal he couldn’t hide.

She loved knowing she made him that way. It boosted her confidence and made her feel like a real woman. Mac’s woman.

She grabbed her bag and drew out the present she’d wrapped. She was saving her other present, namely herself, for last. “Okay. If you don’t like it, it’s fine. I can take it back. Or I can get you something else. Don’t feel like you have to take it or anything. I—”

“Jesus. Give me the thing already,” Mac growled. He took the box in his hands and felt along the wrapping. “Hmm. Feels like a picture. Like something framed.”

“Don’t ruin it by guessing. Just open it.”

He grinned. “So impatient.” Then he carefully opened the paper one end at a time, pulling the tape from the wrapping. God forbid Mac do something disorderly like rip open the package. He slid the frame out and said nothing for a moment.

On pins and needles, she waited for a reaction. It was the last piece she’d given Kim, but she’d changed her mind and swapped it with something else. It was her best, and she wanted Mac to have it. Stupid, but she’d decided to give her red piece to Kim instead. The one that used to hang above her fireplace now sat in The Beholder, waiting for Kim’s East Coast contact to swing by and take a look at it.

Mac studied the sculpture framed in glass. A fusion of warm colors with cool undertones at the edges came in to center on a spotlight of gnarled texture that captured the golden blaze of a setting sun. She’d thought of Mac, strong at his core, yet surrounded by facets of cooler temperament and caring selflessness. A charming mishmash of power and subtlety.

He still said nothing.

She felt stupid. “I’ll take it back.”

“Nope. It’s mine.” He placed it on the side table.

“That’s it? It’s mine?”

He cocked a brow. “I don’t know art, remember? A moron like me would never be able to adequately acknowledge the beauty and grace of a piece of art that exquisite it makes me want to cry.”

She blinked at him. “Who are you and what have you done with Mac Jameson?” What he’d said stole her breath away. “Did you mean it?”

“Mean what?” he said gruffly. “I told you I don’t know art. I just know what I like. I like it a lot.” He pulled her into his lap. “Almost as much as I like you.”

She let him draw her down and kiss her. But she didn’t know what to think. Though he continued to remain aroused beneath her, the kisses he gave her were tender, heartfelt. Nothing erotic, but genuinely warm. And then he hugged her, putting her face right up against her heart.

“I love it, okay? You gave it to me, and it’s mine. No takebacks.”

She chuckled, her laughter muffled against his chest. “Don’t you want the rest of your present?”

“There’s more?” He pulled back to question her. “I only got you the earrings. Don’t tell me I have to go out and buy more .”

“Ass.”

He leered at her. “Keep those insults coming, sweetheart…until we enter our zone. Then it’s all about, ‘Yes, Sir. No, Sir.’ I fucking love that.”

Then he was going to be ecstatic about her next present.

“Okay. Wait here. I’ll bring it to you.”

“Fine.”

“No peeking. Turn down the lights and rev up that fire, will you? I want the mood to be just right.”

“Keep it up with the attitude and you’ll pay,” he taunted as he left the couch and turned to the fire.

She grabbed her bag and raced into the bathroom down the hall. There, she got naked and dug into the presents she’d wrapped to mask her gift. She pulled the silken corset out and put it on. The red material was laced in black. It barely covered her nipples and plumped her breasts to make them look fuller. Cinched at her waist, the flare that hit her hips ended at the sides but had a flap that narrowly covered her mons and buttoned behind her on her lower back, effectively shielding her crotch unless pulled aside or unbuttoned. The thin string between her ass cheeks made a thong look huge.

She hoped he’d like the outfit. She put on the shoes, then fiddled with her hair in the mirror. She decided to leave the earrings on and left her hair in the clip she wore. Then she donned the fuzzy heels and put a garter on her left thigh. After applying some eye liner, a hint of shadow, and deep red lipstick, she felt ready. Sexy. She fingered the velvet choker collar she’d bought but wondered if it would be too much.

Then she said to hell with hit and attached it around her throat. To the small loop on the collar, she fixed a thin velvet lead. Symbolic of ownership if not practical for use, the collar and chain would give Mac a thrill and not make him laugh…she hoped.

Maggie pushed the door open. “You ready?”

“I’m falling asleep in here. Come on.”

“Grouch.” She left the bathroom and remembered to walk slowly. A sexy sway of her hips, the tiny steps meant to enhance the view of her calves while she thrust her chest out slightly, to give emphasis to her breasts.

She reached the living room to see Mac with his head back on the couch, his eyes closed. He’d lowered the lighting to a few candles and the fire, and the flickering light did him real justice. He’d unbuttoned his shirt, and the sight of his bare chest in shadow turned her on more than her sexy getup.

“Merry Christmas, Master.” She handed the leash to him as he opened his eyes and looked at her.

She had to stand fairly close, because the leash wasn’t that long.