His Sub

Chapter 33: Maggie

Maggie opened her eyes, blinking in the semi-dark room. This wasn't her house and then she remembered. She'd had sex, lots of it, with Terry. She grimaced at the pinch of pain between her legs but it was so worth it. She'd never, ever had orgasms like she'd had last night. She rolled over to find her stud—correction, her temporary stud—but the bed was empty.

The curtains were drawn and the room was dark except for a little sunshine that peeked in from the bathroom. What time was it? She crawled out of bed but there was no clock. Her phone and purse were in the living room and so were her clothes. She couldn't walk out there naked. It was bad enough he'd seen her body at night. She wasn't going to parade around in her birthday suit in the stark, unforgiving light of day.

She reached for the sheet. One of his shirts was on the foot of the bed. There weren't any other clothes scattered around and it looked clean and unwrinkled. Maybe, he'd left it for her. She slipped it on. It was as long as a short skirt and the sleeves hung well past her hands. She wiped at her eyes. It was stupid. It was only a shirt, but it made her feel cared for, wanted. If nothing else, he'd thought of her comfort and that was more than David had done in years. She rolled up the sleeves and buttoned it most of the way before going into the bathroom.

God, her hair was a mess—frizz and curls everywhere. Her makeup was mostly gone. She wiped the eye liner away and washed her face. She did her best to tame her curls, ending up twisting them into a very loose bun. There was only one toothbrush. It had to be Terry's. She wasn't brave enough to use it. David had hated it when she'd touched his stuff. She took the toothpaste and smeared some on her finger to brush her teeth.

She stared at the bathroom door. All that was left was to go into the living room. She hadn't had a morning after in forever and never like this. Besides for two high school boyfriends, with whom she'd never spent the entire evening, there'd only been David. They'd dated for months before they'd spent the night together. This thing with Terry was completely different. She barely knew him and the things he'd done...The things she'd let him do to her. Her body hummed and the ache between her legs became a little less pain and a little more desire.

She squashed it. It was the morning after and if he'd wanted sex, he'd have stayed in bed. Nope. Her fantasy had been fun, but it was over. She checked herself in the mirror one more time and then left the bathroom. She really had no choice. She couldn't hide in here forever. She walked into the living room and the smells of coffee and bacon slapped her in the face, making her stomach rumble.

"Good morning." Terry sat to the right of the bedroom at the dining room table, his laptop open and an empty plate nearby.

"Morning." She felt her face heat. This was so embarrassing. He looked immaculate as always. He was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt but he still looked unrumpled. She on the other hand looked like she'd just crawled out of bed, which she had—his bed.

"Hungry?" He stood.

"Starving."

"I bet you are." He grinned, his dark eyes trailing down her body, causing her nerves to tingle in anticipation. "Not yet. You need to eat first."

She wasn't sure if he were talking to her or himself so she didn't say a word.

"Sit. I'll get your breakfast."

"You don't have to. I can—"

"Sit." His eyes narrowed but one side of his mouth was tipped up in a grin. "I think we need to go over the rules. I never did get the chance to tell them to you."

"You had plenty of chances," she said as she sat.

"I did." He walked into the kitchen which was right next to the table so she could still see him. He wasn't wearing shoes or socks and even his feet were sexy, long and strong looking. "But you kept distracting me."