Managing Maggie by Kate Sterling
Chapter One



“Take Charge of Your Orgasms!”

Maggie scoffed as she read the title to Sharon Nelson, her best friend and one of the partners in their newly formed Web design business. “As if I haven’t been doing that for years now. If I don’t, who will?”

Sharon leaned in and pointed to the page. “Hey, now, that double-decker pink vibrator looks like it has some real possibilities.” She laughed and amended, “Or should I say, double-pecker?”

Maggie tossed the copy aside. “Honestly, can’t we get better clients than this?”

They’d taken a few clients with them when they left the design agency where they both worked to start their own business, but when the adult toy site offer arrived, it came with more money than they could afford to refuse.

“Unfortunately, babe, beggars can’t be choosers.”

“Maybe that’s the ad line we should use for this one.”

A small cough brought their attention to the open door of Maggie’s office, where their other partner and graphic designer, Jason Beckham, stood. All six-foot-four, blond-haired, brown-eyed, broad-shouldered, lean-hipped lusciousness of him.

“Sorry to interrupt,” he said. “I didn’t realize you were already in a meeting.”

The heat in his face reflected that which Maggie felt in her own. She could never look at Jason without having to turn away after a second; she feared the instant lust his presence evoked would show on her face.

Sharon had no such problem. She just grinned and said, “No problem at all. We’re just looking over the new Pussy & Dong Toys account.”

Maggie forced a smile and beckoned Jason inside. “What can I do for you?”

“I made some changes to the, um...new account...design that I thought you might want to look at.”

“The Pussy and Dong account, you mean?” Sharon batted her lashes.

Maggie glared at her.

Jason coughed slightly. “Yes, that would be the one.”

“Thanks, Jay. I’ll be there in a minute,” Maggie said.

Sharon grinned as he walked away. “Poor boy. I think we embarrass him.”

“We? You mean you. Oh, God, how long do you think he was standing there?”

“Long enough to know you haven’t been laid in a while.”

Maggie groaned.

“Hey, maybe you’ll get lucky and he’ll volunteer!”

“Stop trying to be helpful.”

Sharon bowed. “I live to serve.”

“So how about trying to serve up a better line than what P&D’s came up with?”

“You mean you don’t like Pussy and Dong’s ads? Honestly, and here I thought you wanted a good dong for your pussy.”

“Get out.”

“You know, that Jason boy sure has got a cute ass. I’m sure if you just—”

“Get out!”

Sharon sauntered toward the door but looked back before exiting. “Maggie, he’s got to be at least thirty. Think about it.”

Maggie glared at her retreating friend then went to shut the door. She leaned against it and closed her eyes.

Think about it.

As if she’d done anything but that for the last year and a half.



* * * * *



Jason cursed the slight tremble in his hands, hoping it would go away before Maggie arrived. The tent in his trousers needed to go as well.

He squirmed in his seat. Both tremor and tent arrived not long after he’d heard the word orgasm coming from her lovely lips. He bit back a groan and took a long swallow of cold water from the bottle on his desk. He’d wanted to take charge of her orgasms from the time they’d met.

She’d made it clear by her attitude that she saw him only as a friend, but his hope of something more renewed when she’d invited him to come with her to start her own agency. Sure, she’d insisted they’d be partners—equals—yet so far, she’d treated him as nothing more than a coworker at best; a younger brother at worst.

His hands fisted. Maggie O’Connell was the only woman who could make him shake with desire. She’d come into the office this morning sporting a white skirt that accentuated her long, toned legs and luscious ass, and a green silk blouse that turned her eyes to emeralds and caressed her full breasts in ways that made him jealous. He took another long swig of cold water, wishing he could pour it over the cock that saluted Maggie every time she went past. He slammed the water bottle down and slid his seat further under the desk to hide his very visible frustration.



* * * * *



Sharon had estimated Jason to be around thirty, but Maggie knew exactly how old he was. She knew because she’d stared at the birth date on his insurance application several times, as if by doing so she could make the number change by an act of will.

She was forty-one; he was twenty-eight.

A thirteen-year age difference that made her feel like a cradle robber each time she found herself lusting after his tight little ass.

Stop it, you perv, she mentally berated herself as visions of his chinos rose in her mind. Front or back, he looked pretty damned good. She firmly pushed the thought away, took a deep breath, and left the office to see his new designs.



* * * * *



Pink.

That was the word to describe it. His pink ears, her pink face—she was sure it was either pink or bright red—pink dildos, pink paddles, pink bottoms.

Pink, pink, pink.

A sheen of sweat swept across Jason’s brow, and Maggie sympathized. Poor boy was probably mortified to have an old woman staring over his shoulder while he pointed out such images as a man running a feather over a blindfolded, naked female who was bound by pink satin cuffs.

“Whenever someone who purchased from the site before opens the page, the top images will be customized to their interests,” Jason explained. “For instance, let’s say someone bought a flogger. The next time they open this page, they’d see something like this...” He pressed a few buttons on the keyboard, and a new screen appeared.

“Oh, I see. That’s great,” Maggie said weakly. On Jason’s screen was a picture of a woman wearing a thong, bent over a sawhorse. A man appeared to be soothing a flavored gel over her bright pink ass cheeks.

“Good job as always, Jay,” she said before turning away, damning the slight squeak in her voice. “I’m sure they’ll love it.”

Her hands shook as she hurried to the washroom to pull herself together. The images and fantasies that sprang to mind when she looked at his work burned in her brain.

Jason’s blond head bent over her naked body, tongue following the trail he made with the feather...his long fingers spreading edible gel on her ass...

She splashed her face with cold water and pressed a paper towel against her eyes.

It was no use. The damage was done.

She knew she’d spend another night remembering his beautiful brown eyes—large and dark with ridiculously long blond lashes, a combination she’d never seen before she met him. Only now, she had new fantasies to go with them.



* * * * *



Six weeks later...



Maggie, Sharon, Jason, and their tabloid-loving, twenty-year old receptionist, Amy, celebrated the successful launch of the Pussy & Dong Toys Web site over dinner in one of the city’s best Italian restaurants. It had been nearly two months in the making, but their satisfied client paid up and even contracted them to design their brochures.

“Cheers, boy and girls!” Sharon raised her glass of champagne. They’d decided they deserved champagne, or wine at the very least.

Maggie lifted her third glass of wine. She didn’t like champagne much, but she loved a good Bordeaux. “You know, when we started, I never thought we’d be creating porn by proxy, but what the heck—it pays the bills!”

“A little porn never hurts. Except maybe for a bit of carpal tunnel.” Jason flexed his wrist and grinned.

Maggie coughed as wine went down her windpipe.

“You got that right, honey,” Sharon said, slapping Maggie on the back. “Good porn is what keeps my marriage going after twenty years.”

“Eww, old people sex!” Amy crowed.

“Watch it, missy,” Sharon warned before turning to Maggie. “Can you believe this kid?” She jerked her thumb at Amy.

Maggie sniffed. “Young people. Such a waste of good energy.”

“Hey,” Amy protested.

“Well, I’ll tell you whose not wasting his young energy,” said Sharon, wagging a finger at Amy. “Ashton Kutcher. He knows the value of a mature woman.”

Oh God, not the Ashton Kutcher/Demi Moore thing. Maggie moaned inwardly. Damn that Demi Moore for making women like her think they could have guys like Jason. She inwardly laughed at herself. About the only thing she and Demi had in common was their long, dark hair.

“Just look at Maggie,” Sharon continued, snapping Maggie’s attention back. “Any man of any age would be lucky to have her. Isn’t that right, Jason?”

Liquid splattered across the table as Maggie and Jason simultaneously choked on their drinks.

Jason wiped his face with his napkin. “Absolutely,” he said, still coughing slightly.

Maggie glared at Sharon. I’ll kill her, I’ll kill her, I’ll kill her.

“See there,” Sharon said, unfazed by the death threats Maggie silently projected. “A man of any age knows a good thing when he sees it, and I’m older than all of you, but I can promise you, Clifford Nelson still knows how good he’s got it.”

“I don’t doubt it.” Jason grinned and raised his glass to Sharon.

“I still think you all are gross,” Amy said. “And Demi Moore ought to be ashamed of herself. She’s old enough to be his mother.”

“Only if she got pregnant as a teenager. Besides, what does that have to do with anything?” Sharon demanded. “Men have dated women younger than their own daughters for years. It’s about time we gals started doing the same. Isn’t that right, Mary Margaret?”

Maggie winced when her foot connected with the table’s leg instead of Sharon’s, which she’d aimed for.

“That’s different,” Amy said, drawing Maggie’s attention away from her sore toes.

Sharon opened her mouth to respond, but Jason spoke first.

“No, it isn’t,” he said to Maggie’s surprise. Apparently to Amy’s surprise as well, because she gaped at him open mouthed. “A beautiful woman is beautiful no matter what her age. In fact, it’s about time women started dating whoever they want.”

Maggie blinked as Jason looked at her during that speech. There was nothing significant in that look, was there? Hard to tell since she was on her fifth glass of wine. Her concentration broke when Sharon clapped a hand on his back.

“Now that’s what I’m talking about. Let me buy you another drink.”

Jason laughed and declined. “I’ve only had two so far, and from the looks of things, I’m going to have to be the designated driver.



* * * * *



As it turned out, he was, but only for Maggie. Amy called her boyfriend, Joe, and Cliff picked up Sharon. Maggie tried to get a ride with the Nelsons, but her traitor of a friend insisted Jason take her home, claiming there was no room in the family mini-van due to toys and sports equipment.

“Really, I can call a cab. No need for you to put yourself out,” she protested as he slid in beside her in his small sports car.

“No trouble at all. Here, let me,” he said, as she fumbled with her seatbelt. He leaned over, his warm hand closing around hers as he took the belt from her.

The soft hair of his arm tickled hers as he moved the seatbelt from her shoulder, barely grazing her breast as he drew the belt over to latch at her waist.

She couldn’t breathe. The contact was so brief, so light, she knew he couldn’t have meant to do it, yet he might as well have run a live wire across her for the reaction it caused. Her nipples tightened painfully, and a sharp current shot from her breast to her thighs.

“Thanks,” she managed to whisper.

“No problem,” he replied in a voice huskier than she remembered. “Now, where do you live?”

For a moment, she couldn’t recall.

Jason knew exactly where she lived, but couldn’t say so. Maggie would wonder how he knew, and he already felt like a stalker for gleaning every bit of information he could about this woman who drove him insane with desire.

He hoped she hadn’t noticed when his hand grazed her breast. He hadn’t planned it¾not really, he told himself¾but the temptation to touch her, even for a moment, was too great. He checked her face for a reaction. Her eyes were closed.

Such a sweet drunk. He smiled and started the car.



* * * * *



“Come on, Sleeping Beauty, you’re home.” Jason’s voice filled her dream, and she smiled when she felt his arms go around her.

“You feel so good,” she murmured.

Soft laughter vibrated above her.

Her eyes flew open. “Oh!” She tried to clear her head, looking around in panic.

Jason gazed down at her from the open passenger door of his car. The cool night air hit her face when he moved back, and she sobered quickly. He reached for her arm, but she pushed him away.

“I’m sorry... It’s okay... I’m okay,” she babbled as she searched for her purse on the floorboard.

“I’ve got your purse if that’s what you’re looking for,” he said, lifting the bag. He held out a hand again, and she took it, unfolding herself from the low-slung seat.

When they reached her door, she motioned for her purse. “Thanks for the ride. You really didn’t have to do it.”

“I did, and it was my pleasure. Here, let me get the keys.”

Once more, she felt the warmth of his hand over hers, and she leaned against the porch wall for support as he opened the door.

“Thank you.” She reached for the key then stopped in surprise when he followed her into the house.

“Let me just make sure everything is all right,” he said, finding the light switch.

She blinked at the sudden brightness. “I’m okay now. You don’t have to stay.”

“I’m only going to make sure you get to bed safely.”

She flushed. Whether more at the hint she couldn’t take care of herself, or the image of him in her bedroom, she wasn’t sure. “I can take care of myself,” she insisted.

“I know you can,” he said softly, “but I’d never let you go in at night alone without checking for intruders first. I need to know you’re safe before I can leave.”

“Oh.” Damn, why did he always make her knees go weak?

She followed as he made a quick check of the house. “Looks like it’s all clear. Now, let’s get you to bed.”

He placed a hand on her back, and her mouth went dry.

“I...I can manage.”

“I know, but I’ll feel better knowing you’re safely tucked in when I leave.”

Oh, God, he was killing her.

God, she was killing him. Standing there, staring at him with those large green eyes, her dark hair slightly disheveled from her nap in the car. She looked so soft, so vulnerable.

His chivalry was in deep danger.

Get hold of yourself, man! She’s drunk. Jason took a deep breath and led her back to her room. “Let me know when you’ve changed and are in bed.”

She gave a small smile and went inside.

Jason stood in the hallway, cock hard and balls aching, trying to think of anything other than Maggie undressing.

Keith Richards in the shower... Dick Cheney and Madeleine Albright in a sixty-nine...

Sixty-nine...

Fuck. His cock twitched as he pictured his tongue deep between Maggie’s thighs, her long legs over his shoulders. He rubbed a hand across his crotch to ease the ache.

It didn’t help.

“I’m ready,” Maggie called from behind the door.

So was he.

Maggie’s breath caught when Jason’s tall frame filled the door to her bedroom.

She’d spent the last several minutes in the bathroom, telling herself it meant nothing that she’d cleaned up, changed underwear, brushed her teeth, and put on the green silk teddy. She wasn’t trying to seduce him, and couldn’t even if she tried. He was too young, too gorgeous.

But...what was it he’d said at dinner...?

She gave a tiny shake of her head as the light played tricks on her eyes. His pants weren’t bulging in the front, they couldn’t be. Surely, he was only staring wide-eyed at her like that from embarrassment.

He probably didn’t expect to see me looking like an old cougar on the prowl.

She jumped onto the bed and pulled the blankets over her, suddenly embarrassed. “Well, as you can see, I’m fine now. You can go home and stop babysitting this old woman.” She gave him a weak smile.

He didn’t return the smile.

“Maggie...” he started, his voice deep, husky.

“Really, it’s okay. You can go now.” She waved her hand to shoo him away.

He didn’t shoo.

He crossed the room in three short strides and kissed her hard on the lips, taking advantage of her slack-mouthed shock to plunge his tongue deep within, stroking and twirling until she was breathless.

As suddenly as he began, he stopped. “Goodnight,” he whispered hoarsely.

He was gone before she could speak.