Rannigan's Redemption: Resisting Risk (Part 7) - Erotica - Bellesa - Porn for Women

Rannigan's Redemption: Resisting Risk (Part 7)

Category Romance
By Pandora Spocks
Time 17 minutes



On Saturday, Michael went to the gym and put in a strenuous workout before heading to the park for a five-mile run, trying desperately to shake the restlessness that had kept him tossing all night. In those moments he did manage to sleep, his dreams were filled with that red hair, the green dress, her laugh, those tits. He kept trying to minimize last night, to compartmentalize it somehow, but he couldn’t dismiss the sensory overload of Maggie in his arms, her breath on his neck, the taste of her lips beneath his. 

Freshly showered, he pulled on a pair of grey sweatpants, towel-drying his hair on his way to the kitchen. From the dark granite counter, a blue light blinked on his phone. It was a voice mail from Veronica. “I need to see you,” she’d said. He called her right away. 

“Hey, Ronni, what’s up?” he asked, curiosity momentarily distracting his thoughts. 

“I’ve missed you, Michael.” He heard the lazy smile in her voice. “I’d like to stop by and see you this evening. Are you busy?” 

Michael gave a relieved sigh. His exertions today had not quenched the thirst he’d had when he’d left Maggie’s the previous night. Maybe Veronica would. “No, come on over. I’ve missed you, too.” 

While he waited for Veronica, Michael tidied up quickly, tossing dirty clothes into one of the spare bedrooms. His housekeeper wouldn’t be in until Tuesday. He traded the sweatpants for a pair of jeans and a fitted black v-neck t-shirt. He placed some cheese and fruit on a small black platter, opened a bottle of chardonnay to allow it to breathe, and was in the process of lighting a few scattered candles against the dusk that was falling when the front desk called. “There’s a guest to see you, Mr. Rannigan.” 

“Yes, thank you, please send her up,” he replied. Michael opened his door and leaned casually against the frame as he looked down the hall to the elevator. The doors slid open and he watched as Veronica stepped out, his eyes landing first on her perfectly manicured toes in tan stiletto sandals with ties around the ankles, probably Jimmy Choo. His gaze slid up her shapely tanned legs to the hem of her clingy navy knit wrap dress with its deep v neckline and side tie. 

His gaze lingered, appreciating the way her tits bounced as she walked towards him. They’d been a gift from her late husband, who had probably never enjoyed them as much as Michael did. Her blonde hair hung in waves around her shoulders and her blue eyes sparkled knowingly. He allowed a lazy grin to creep across his face. 

“You are a sight for sore eyes, beautiful,” he said, kissing her cheek lightly. 

“How are you, Michael?” she asked in her smoky voice, returning his kiss. 

“I’m better now,” he said. “It’s been a long time.”

Veronica settled on the large leather sectional, primly crossing her legs and resting her arm on the back of the sofa. Michael poured wine for them and set the tray of cheese and fruit on the coffee table opposite the sofa. He handed her a glass and sat on the sofa, pulling his foot under him and facing her, lightly caressing the arm she rested on the back of the sofa. 

“How have you been? I haven’t seen you in what, three months?” 

“I’m fine,” she sighed. “I’ve been busy, what with the renovation on the apartment. And I went to Greece for a few weeks. It was ghastly, really, so crowded with tourists.” She sipped her wine and continued speaking. Occasionally as she did, she brought her hand to her chest, absently stroking her cleavage. 

Michael didn’t even try to listen. His eyes were on the tie at her waist. Just a tug and she’d be open to him. He wondered what she was wearing under the navy blue Tory Burch dress. His thoughts flitted to Maggie, wondering what had been under that delicious green dress. He felt his erection growing. He had waited absolutely as long as he could. 

Michael slid closer to Veronica, took her glass, and set it on the table beside the untouched cheese tray. “God, I’ve missed you,” he growled, taking her cheek in his palm and leaning in to kiss her. She responded, kissing him passionately before moving her lips along his scruffy jaw to just below his ear. 

Michael nibbled down her neck and slid his hand into the top of her dress, fondling her breast, using his thumb to brush across the sensitive nub, rendering it fully awake. 

“Mmm.” The low moan came from Veronica as she slid down slightly, drawing him down with her. Michael leaned up and gave her a roguish grin before reaching to tug the tie that was keeping her hidden from him. She smiled lazily and draped her arms over her head as he opened her dress, exposing her unnaturally full tits, her tanned at belly, her smoothly waxed pussy. He paused, appreciating the view. 

“Before you go any further, sailor, you’re overdressed,” she teased. He pulled the black shirt over his head and tossed it aside, leaning over her again, pressing his knee against her moist sex. 

Moaning again, she lightly brushed her hands over his chest, running her fingers through the sprinkling of salt and pepper hair there as he kissed her again, but he pushed her hands back up again and worked his way lower to cover her right nipple with his mouth, suckling voraciously. 

Veronica panted and arched her back, grinding her pussy against his knee. “Not so fast, lover,” she breathed. 

Michael sat back, running a hand through his hair. Veronica took advantage of the opportunity to kneel on the sofa and undo his fly. He hadn’t bothered with underwear and his erection sprung forward freely. She stilled for a moment, dress hanging open and showcasing her rm, round tits and she fixed him with a sensual stare as she gripped his cock, circling her thumb around the head, smearing the glistening pearl she found there. Still wearing her dress like a cloak, she slowly leaned forward keeping her eyes on his and took him in her mouth. 

“Oh, shit, Ronni,” he hissed. He watched her taking him in and out of her mouth, licking and sucking as she did, and he reached down to pull up the back of her dress, exposing her ass. He remembered the feel of Maggie’s ass under his hand last night. And her rm tits pressed tight against his chest. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back, nearly losing control. But when he glanced down, the face was wrong. 

He gripped Veronica’s hair and pulled her off his cock. Standing with his jeans around his knees, he spun her so that she faced the back of the sofa. He leaned over her, reaching around to roughly grope her tits with one hand and plunge the fingers of the other into her pussy, grinding his rock-like shaft into her ass crack while feverishly biting her neck. 

She gasped at his sudden shift. “Jesus, Michael!” 

He withdrew his fingers from her pussy and used them to circle her clit and she responded by moaning deeply. “I want you from behind!” he hissed. Michael gripped her hips and thrust his cock home. 

“Oh, shit!” She held on tightly to the back of the sofa as he repeatedly slammed into her as far as he could go, his movements harsh and primal. Eyes closed, Michael saw the long red hair, the green dress, and he continued his frenzied pumping. Veronica came noisily, loudly calling out his name. 

He felt his own release exploding, his cock convulsing as he spent himself into her. “Oh, God, Mags,” he breathed as his last spasm subsided, collapsing beside Veronica. 

They lay side by side catching their breath. After a moment Veronica pushed up on one elbow and kissed his cheek. She stood and tied her dress back around herself, dug into her bag for cigarettes and a lighter, and went out onto the veranda. Michael slid back into his jeans and followed her outside. The twinkling lights of the city were soothing. 

“That was really something, sailor,” she said without turning around. He wrapped his arms around her petite frame and kissed her neck. 

“You are amazing, Ronni,” he breathed against her cheek.

“It wasn’t me you were fucking,” she said impassively.

“What?” he asked, blocking Maggie out of his thoughts.

Veronica turned to face him. “In your mind I was someone else.” She gazed at him steadily.

“Ronni, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Michael denied. “You’re the best.”

She took another drag on her cigarette, blowing the smoke to the side. 

“Come, Michael. You’ve never been that aggressive before.” She smiled tightly. “I talked to Gina Lewis. She was at the Music in Schools event last night. She said that you were with a stunning redhead.” 

Michael flushed and looked away. “I wasn’t with her, I went to the party with Jana Hansen. I wanted to take you, if you recall. Maggie is a lawyer with my firm.” 

“I’m not jealous, handsome, so lighten up. I heard you shared a pretty intimate dance with a beautiful girl. I’m happy for you, you know.” 

He ran a hand through his hair. “I’m not seeing Maggie, it’s just...” he paused. “Jana had to leave and Maggie and I ended up hanging out for the rest of the party. I would never date someone from work. It would create too many problems.” 

Veronica smiled wistfully. “I’ve never known you to be so intense. It was me on the couch, but you were fucking that girl.” 

Michael shook his head in frustration and stalked to the other side of the veranda, looking out over the city. 

“This is the last time I can see you,” Veronica said quietly. “I’m getting married.” 

“You’re what?” he whirled to face her, eyes wide. 

“We’re announcing it at a party next month. I wanted to tell you first. You’re invited, of course.” She smiled at him affectionately. “You didn’t think I was going to wait around forever, did you?” She moved toward him, cupping his cheek in her hand. “You are a delicious diversion, Michael. But it’s time I grew up.” She kissed him tenderly and returned inside to collect her bag. 

Silently, Michael followed her, pausing to shrug back into his shirt. Veronica stopped at the door. “I’m sorry you’re so surprised, Michael. Truthfully, knowing about your redhead makes me feel better about you. At least you won’t be alone.” She gave a knowing look. “Don’t take too long. She won’t wait forever, either.” She kissed him passionately. 

“Goodbye, Michael.”


Maggie arranged and rearranged baklava, croissants, and pear strudel in preparation for the morning meeting. The coffee was ready in three insulated dispensers. She’d been at the office over an hour. The conference room door opened and her heart skipped a beat. 

“Hi, Maggie!” Dan said. 

She wasn’t sure if she felt relieved or disappointed. “Hey, Dan, how are you?” she smiled. 

“Great. How was your weekend?” he asked. 

How was her weekend? Let’s see. I went to a fabulous party. I ended up drinking too much, dancing with the boss, oh, and then I kissed him. I was ready to fuck him right there on my kitchen counter but suddenly he left. So on a scale of 1-10... 

“Morning, Dan, Mags,” Michael greeted them both.

“Good morning, Michael,” Dan said cheerfully.

“Hi, Michael.” Color rose in her cheeks as she nishedshu ing the pastries.

“Listen, can I talk to you after the meeting?” Dan asked her quietly.

Shit! Still smiling, “Sure.” When she glanced over her shoulder Michael gave her a sharp, if amused, look.

The others led in and found their seats while Michael took his place at the head of the conference table. “What have we got this week?” One by one, they briefed him on their plans for that day and for the week as Michael took notes. “Sounds good. Hodges, will you need a hand with those depositions?” he clarified. 

“No, we’ve got it,” Stan Hodges reassured him. 

“Perfect. I’m going to be tied up with the Larson case starting tomorrow. John and Ellen will assist. Oh, and Maggie will be joining us.” 

“What the fuck?!” Standifer said under her breath.

Michael fixed her with a pointed stare. “Problems?”

“No,” she said quickly. “No problems.”

“Good. If that’s everything, let’s get to it,” he adjourned the meeting. 

Maggie began packing up the coffee and treats to move them to the break room as everyone led out. Only Dan lingered behind. “So you’re going to get a chance to go to court,” he said, helping Maggie with the packing. 

She smiled. “Yeah, finally. I’m really happy about it.”

“You should celebrate. Have a drink with me after work today.”

“Go out with the gang for cocktails?” she asked lightly.

He grinned shyly. “I thought maybe just you and me.”

Maggie looked down for a moment, then smiled kindly. “ at sounds great, but I can’t, really.”

“It’s just a drink. You don’t need to worry about inter-office issues, it’s not a problem,” he shrugged.

She sighed. “Ordinarily I’d love to. It’s just that, well...” She met his eyes, trying to ease the blow. “I like someone right now. And I’d like to see where it goes, so...” She gave him a gentle smile. “I’m sorry. But thank you.” 

Dan nodded with a sad smile. “Always a day late and a dollar short,” he chuckled. “Story of my life.” He left the conference room and Maggie let out a huge breath. 

She lingered in the break room, trying to give Dan a chance to get to his office. As she headed out the door to go back to her other duties, she nearly walked right into Michael. “Can I see you a second, Mags?” 

“Sure,” she said uncertainly, her stomach suddenly taking a dive. All weekend, she’d wondered how to acknowledge Friday night. She’d scolded herself. Don’t be stupid. It was no big deal. Two attractive people drank too much and shared a kiss. 

But it had been a big deal to Maggie. Following him into his office, she unconsciously wrung her hands together. “What’s up?” 

He motioned to the chairs opposite his desk. “I want to talk about the Larson case, make sure you’re up to speed.” 

Maggie released breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Apparently he wasn’t going to talk about Friday. He probably never even thought twice about it. 

“I think I’m ready. He’s the tennis pro, arrested after a bar fight for aggravated assault and battery. I’ve seen the arrest report and probable cause affidavit, gone over the forensics, I’ve read the depositions. What more should I do?” 

Michael rocked back in his chair, nodding. “It sounds like you’ve got it. Hemphill and Standifer will be at the table with me. You’ll be seated behind us. I want you to watch everything, the jury included. If you notice anything, let me know.” 

“Of course, Michael, I understand,” she said. 

“And apparently Ellen is bent on being a pain,” he added, his expression grim. “Are you ready for that?” 

She smiled confidently. “I was born ready.”

Michael laughed. “Atta girl. Seems it’s true what they say about redheads.” 

“Why? What do they say?” Maggie asked.

His eyes crinkled as he laughed again, shaking his head. “Never mind. How did it go with Dan?”

Turning at his office door, she rolled her eyes. “I tried to let him down easy. 

“Thanks for the heads up, by the way. I would have been caught completely off-guard.” 

“What did you say?” he asked, eyes smiling. 

“I told him that I liked someone.” She held his gaze steadily for a moment before turning away, closing the door behind her. Let him think about that for a while

Being in court was a revelation. Although Maggie had seen videos of Michael at work as a litigator, watching him in person completely upped the ante. Michael was a master at moving people, at helping them arrive at the destination he had in mind. At turns he charmed them with his looks and self-deprecating wit and challenged them with common sense and laser-sharp knowledge of the law. Maggie watched with rapt attention, taking copious notes. 

In addition to her notes and briefs, she had a legt of all the depositions, having printed them out for herself. at probably had been overkill, all the information was in the briefs, but she’d done it anyway. Better safe than sorry, she’d thought. 

Ronald “Rowdy” Larson was an up-and-coming tennis star who’d been involved in a drunken bar brawl that had resulted in one man having permanent damage to his vision. In addition to the criminal trial, there would be a civil trial in which the victim would seek damages to the tune of millions of dollars. He was flanked at the defense table by Hemphill and Standifer. 

Michael questioned each witness, garnering cooperation with his easy charm and winning smile. The prosecution portrayed Larson as a spoiled, entitled punk who excelled at making trouble. Michael painted him as misunderstood, as much a victim as the one who’d been injured, just a guy in the wrong place at the wrong time. 

By Friday morning, testimony was winding down. The problem was that witness after witness stated that Larson had thrown the first punch. No matter how Michael worked to spin it, that seemed to be a sticking point to which the prosecution continued to return. 

Misgivings nagged at Maggie. Something isn’t fitting, she thought. From her seat behind the defense table, she began flipping through her copies of the depositions. Where was it? 

She found what she was looking for in the fifth document in her file. Eyes wide, she traced her finger over the transcript. Her heart pounded as she watched Michael question the final scheduled witness, her eyes boring into his the back of his head. 

Silently, she implored him. Turn around! Desperate to get his attention, she quickly sent him a text. She watched as his mobile lit up on the defense table. Dammit, check your phone! 

As he listened to the witness give a lengthy answer to his question, Michael turned and walked to the table where his phone lay. Leaving where it was, he checked for messages. 

“You have another witness.” His eyes locked on hers and she nodded briskly. Michael immediately turned to the judge. “Your Honor, the defense requests a fifteen minute recess.” 

The judge checked his watch. “It’s almost lunch. We’ll break and resume at 1:00.” 

Five minutes later, the four of them were in the lawyers’ lounge down the hall from the courtroom. John busied himself getting coffee and Ellen stalked off to the ladies’ room. 

“What’s up, Mags? What other witness?” Michael asked.

“You haven’t called Daryl Whittaker,” she said.

“Who’s Daryl Whittaker?”

“He’s the bouncer from the club. In his deposition he states that he knows for a fact that Rowdy didn’t start the fight. When the fight started, he and Rowdy were talking. They’d just taken a selfie, and there’s a time stamp on the photo.” 

“I don’t remember seeing that deposition,” Michael said, fixing Hemphill with a serious look. 

John joined them at the table, stirring his coffee. “I knew it was in there. I don’t think it’s a big deal. He wasn’t a very credible witness anyway.” 

“Are you shitting me? We have a photo with a time stamp that matches the time the fight started? And you don’t think that’s a big deal?” 

Michael’s jaw was tight and he narrowed his eyes as Ellen returned from the restroom. “Did you know about the bouncer?” he demanded. She flushed slightly looking from Michael to John. 

“Michael didn’t see the deposition of the bouncer, the one with the selfie,” John said, bringing her up to speed. 

Ellen’s gaze fell on Maggie. “Maggie was the one who made the copies of all the briefs and depositions. She must have left out something.” Her lip curled derisively. 

“Maggie is the one who brought it to my attention.” Whirling to Maggie, “How did you know about this?” he demanded. 

Maggie licked her lips and hesitated. “I made extra copies of all the documents for myself,” she said quietly. “I just wanted to be sure I was prepared.” She held up her copy of the bouncer’s deposition. Ellen snatched it from her hand. 

“I’ll take that,” Michael said. He looked it over silently, pacing back and forth beside the table. When Ellen asked Maggie about lunch plans, Michael glared at her. Sullenly, she crossed her arms and sat across from Maggie on the other side of the table. 


When court reconvened, Michael called Daryl Whittaker to the witness stand. He walked the bouncer through the events of the evening in question and the man verified what he’d previously stated in his deposition. Rowdy was talking to some fans at a table on the far side of the establishment, far away from the bar where the fight began. At the exact moment the victim was punched, the tennis star had posed for a selfie with Whittaker. The photo with the time stamp was introduced into evidence. The prosecution wasn’t happy, but Whittaker had been on the witness list all along. They hadn’t bothered to call him because he didn’t help their case. 

At 3:15 the jury began their deliberations and at 4:50 they returned a verdict of acquittal. John and Ellen left immediately after Rowdy was released. On the courthouse steps, Michael and Rowdy paused to address the reporters gathered there hoping for a sound bite in time for the six o’clock news. Michael didn’t disappoint. 

Maggie stood to the side and watched as Michael flashed his signature smile. “We’d like to thank the good folks of the jury for taking seriously their civic duty. A week-long trial isn’t a lot of fun, but they weighed the evidence and did the right thing. My client is grateful for their attention to detail and their sense of justice, and he offers his sincere hopes and prayers for the victim’s speedy recovery.” 

God, he’s good, she thought. 

Michael shook hands with his client and walked down the steps, stopping to exchange friendly banter with some of the reporters. Maggie held her worn leather case in front of her, gripping it with both hands as she waited for him on the sidewalk. 

“Ride with me back to the office,” he said. He waved and a cab pulled to the curb. 

As they drove away from the courthouse, Maggie smiled shyly. “Congratulations, Michael.” 

He gave a satisfied smile. “Congratulations, nothing, Mags. If you hadn’t brought up Whittaker and the photo, I don’t think the jury would have acquitted. at was good work.”  

She felt the flush creep up her neck to her cheeks and she frowned. “You should have had the information. I can’t think how you didn’t get all the documents. I put them in your box, I know I did.” 

Michael shook his head. “It’s odd.” He looked out the window, a thoughtful look in his eyes. 

After a few minutes, he turned to Maggie. “We have a tradition on the 50th floor. Every time we win a case, everybody meets for drinks at Doc Watson’s. I’m going to finish up at the office and head over. John and Ellen are probably already there. Join us.” His expression was soft, hopeful. 

She did, in fact, know about the traditional 50th floor victory gathering. She’d just never been invited. Maggie smiled happily. She couldn’t help it. “That sounds great, actually.” 

“Good!” he nodded, settling the matter. 

Ellen and John were already at the bar when Michael and Maggie walked into Doc Watson’s. Dan was there as well, along with Stan Hodges and several other 50th floor associates. 

“Welcome, gang, this round’s on me,” Michael called. 

“You won another one, Michael,” Stan said, hoisting his pint. “Here’s to the best defense money can buy.” Everyone raised their glasses in a toast. 

Michael sipped and grinned thoughtfully. “I came close to fucking up,” he admitted. “Maggie came through with the witness we needed.” He gave her the full wattage Michael Rannigan smile. “Here’s to Maggie.” 

“To Maggie!” everyone chimed in, as Maggie blushed deeply. John remained silent, his expression inscrutable, but Ellen tossed back her martini and glared at both Maggie and Michael. 

Maggie sat on her stool sipping her pint and listening to the group exchanging war stories. She breathed deeply and glanced around. I belong here. I’ve earned this spot, she thought, and she smiled. She realized that in that moment she was immensely happy. 

She watched Michael as he laughed and bullshitted with everyone, stopping once in a while to check his phone or type a text. God, he’s handsome. I know he’s attracted to me...maybe he is. 

Absently she trailed her index finger through the condensation on her glass. We shared a moment, more than one actually. Michael looked up and she realized she was staring. Rather than looking away, she smiled warmly. He gave her his best wolfish grin, the one where even his eyes smile, and went back to the story he was telling. 

Maybe I’ll invite him to dinner, she thought, the idea causing her stomach to flutter. 

Nearer to her, Dan was debating with John about the upcoming World Series when he stopped mid-sentence. “Holy...Where does he find them?” he asked reverently, eyes wide. 

Maggie and the others followed his gaze to a knock-out blonde who’d just entered the bar. Her perfect golden layers hung past her shoulders and even from where she sat, Maggie could see the extravagant false lashes framing her large blue eyes. 

The thing that drew the attention of everyone in the room, however, was the dress she was wearing. Crafted in slinky fuchsia, the loose cowl halter hung open to her navel revealing the inner curves of her enormous breasts. The skin-tight skirt was barely long enough to cover her ass. Maggie wondered how she could sit without flashing everyone a free shot of South Virginia. 

“Pretty sure that one was a centerfold a couple of months ago,” John commented quietly. 

The woman strolled up to Michael. “There you are. I didn’t think I’d ever find you.” She kissed him sensuously. 

“I texted you the directions,” he said laughing. “It’s not that hard to find. Everyone, this is Kimberley.” He gestured vaguely with his right hand. “Kimberley, everyone.” 

He slugged back the remainder of his pint and stood, taking his jacket and slinging it over his shoulder. “Folks, it’s been a pleasure, but we have to run. Good work everybody, have a nice weekend.” 

Maggie watched the scene unfold, fighting madly to keep her face neutral while inside, her heart was pounding. 

Michael placed his hand on Kimberley’s bare back and they headed toward the door, but he stopped beside Maggie. “You were great today, Mags,” he said quietly. “I’m really happy you’re on my team.” 

He smiled again with his eyes, that look that melted her to the core, but she forced a smile. Clearing her throat to move the lump that had formed there, she answered him. “Thanks, boss. See you Monday.” Maggie tried to breathe as she watched the pair walk away. 

“He always does that, you know.” Startled, Maggie turned to find that Dan had wandered o and Ellen had taken his seat. 

“Does what?” Maggie asked, aiming for nonchalant. 

“Every time Michael wins a case he calls one of his girlfriends for a victory fuck.” Ellen stared at her without blinking. “He has them on a rotating basis, sort of a stable of blondes.” 

She smirked at Maggie. “They’re always blonde. Always. I can’t think he’d ever settle for a red head.” 

“I’m not sure what you’re insinuating,” Maggie responded, returning the bold stare, “but I work for Michael. What he does in his personal life is none of my business. Or yours, for that matter.” 

“I heard about you last weekend. I heard that you were with Michael at that party. Don’t think for a second that you mean anything at all to him.” 

Maggie stood and gathered her bag and her coat. “What I find incomprehensible is why you find my personal business so interesting.” 

She said her goodbyes to the table before making her way out into the cool October evening. Out on the sidewalk she breathed deeply, working to stave o the tears she’d be damned if she’d show. 

She dialed Ben’s number and rapid-fired him as soon as he answered. “Oh, God, Ben, I have so much to talk to you about. It was a great day and a horrible day all rolled into one. Wanna get a pizza and come over?” 

“Whoa, Flynn, what’s up? Are you okay?” he asked. 

“I just need to decompress. You won’t believe how this day went. We finished the case in court, and then...” 

“I’m on a date, Flynn.” 

His words stopped her cold. “Oh, shit! Ben, I’m so sorry, I didn’t even think...” Maggie apologized. “Never mind, we can talk later.” Her voice broke slightly and she hated that it did, but she’d held herself together for as long as she could. 

“Are you crying?” Ben asked. 

Maggie took another deep breath and replied calmly, “No, I’m fine. I’m sorry I interrupted you. Call me tomorrow, okay?” 

“Okay, sweetie, I love you,” Ben said. 

“I love you, too. Have fun,” she said, disconnecting. 

Once safely ensconced in the comfortable solitude of her apartment, Maggie poured herself some wine and ran a hot bath. With her glass of wine and the warm glow of the candles she’d lit, Maggie sank into the warm water and sobbed, releasing all the pent-up emotions not only from that day, but from the confusion she’d felt all week long. Deep down she knew Ellen was right, and it pissed her off, made her feel foolish. Their kiss had meant nothing to Michael. 

She considered calling Casey but realized she didn’t have the energy. She finished the bottle of wine and drifted off into dreamless sleep. 


Pandora Spocks is a sassy ginger and hopeless romantic, living her happily ever after in South Florida. She enjoys reading and writing literary erotic romance. She is the author of the three-novel epic romance Rannigan’s Redemption, and a naughty little romantic novella, Just One Night. The Dream Dominant Collection, a series of light BDSM stand-alone novels, includes Luke & Bella, Lost & Bound, and For Sparrow.

Pandora is currently at work on her next spicy romance. In the meantime, you can find more of her work through Amazon and Goodreads.

Posted on Jan 05, 2018


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