Chapter 12 #2
Maggie dramatically threw her hands up to encompass as much of the universe as her noodle arms would allow before they flopped back down into her lap. Hiccup.
“Have you lied to me, Maggie? I know you lied about Jack Harley and we took care of that, well I thought so until today. But that can wait. What other lies have you told me, sweetie?”
“Oh, Nick,” she sighed, sinking against his broad chest. “I have lied to you. I have seriously lied to you. Where’s my wine?” Hiccup.
“Why don’t you tell me about these lies and let me decide how serious they are?” he suggested helpfully.
“Oh, they’re serious,” she told him popping back up and looking into his eyes. “In fact, I’m probably going straight to hell,” she sniffed while wiping her nose on her sleeve. Hiccup. “Where the hell is my wine glass?” she demanded, slapping her thigh in agitation.
“Tell you what. I’ll give you your glass back, and then you tell me what you’ve lied about. How’s that?” he asked, reasonably.
“Deal. I’ll take door number three. You give me back my wine and I’ll tell you all about my lies… how’s about that?” Hiccup.
Nick handed her the glass after taking several large gulps, leaving her very little wine in the bottom.
“Hey,” she griped, snatching it out of his hand and peering intently into the glass looking for more. “No fair.”
Nick couldn’t resist sliding his fingers into her hair and pulling her close for a kiss. Maggie’s tongue slipped along his wine covered lips.
“Yum,” she murmured, wrapping her arms around him as he quickly saved the glass again.
“Okay, sweetie,” he informed her, detaching her arms from his neck. “Here’s your wine; now tell me about those lies.”
“Well,” she told him, swallowing the last of her wine. “It’s kind of embarrassing. Do we have more wine in the kitchen?” she asked innocently.
“Maggie, tell me about the lies,” he scolded, trying to keep her focused.
Hiccup.
“See this right here’s a per… hiccup… fect example,” she explained, poking his chest with her finger. “I told you if you found my glass I would tell you, and really I’m not going to tell you anything, so it was a lie. Get it?” Hiccup.
Nick laughed.
“I get it, and now you’re going to get it,” he told her taking the empty glass that was dangling from her fingers and setting it down on the coffee table.
In the blink of an eye he had her over his lap and her nightie pulled above her waist. Crisp smacks were stinging her behind before she could even get out a scream.
“Stop,” she pleaded. “I’m sorry.”
“Are you lying?” Nick asked with an evil grin as he continued to pepper her backside with firm slaps.
“Um, maybe,” she admitted truthfully as she hiccupped and squealed.
“Ah,” he said, “the truth, finally. Well, let me know when you’re really sorry and I’ll think about stopping,” he informed her cheerfully.
Maggie’s bottom, warm from snuggly sitting on Nick’s lap, went to Fourth of July firecracker hot in about sixty seconds.
Her struggles to get away would have been ineffective had she been sober, but drunk they were laughable, and Nick was definitely laughing.
She acted like he was blistering her, when in reality he was being pretty gentle.
His little Maggie could be quite an actress when she’d had a few drinks.
“Okay, okay, I’m sorry—really sorry. Please stop, Nick, you’re killing me,” she wailed as she scrubbed her runny nose on her sleeve again.
“I’ll let you up, but you better keep your word. No more lying, and I want to hear the truth from now on. You hear me?”
“Yes, Nick, I hear you fine. Can I have some more wine?”
“No,” he told her firmly, a smack his exclamation point. “No more wine until you behave and keep your promise, and no more tricks.”
Nick pulled Maggie up and sat her firmly on his lap despite her wiggling and moaning. “Now spill it, sweets,” he told her.
“I will, I will, but Nick you don’t understand. I really need a big glass of wine if I’m going to… I will tell you everything, Girl Scout’s Honor,” she told him folding up her fingers in what he was sure was the wrong formation.
“If I remember right, you got kicked out of the Girl Scout troop at St. Peter’s for putting food coloring in the Holy Water. Nice try though.” Nick moved to flip her to his lap as Maggie grabbed his hands and looked into his eyes.
“Nick, please, I don’t think I can do it without a little… hiccup… help. Maybe not even then, but I’ll try.”
Weighing his options took only a minute. On one hand, Maggie had more than enough to drink. On the other, there was obviously something very serious she had to tell him, and apparently she needed liquid courage to do it. Moving Maggie off his lap, he swore as he headed into the kitchen.
In short order, Nick returned with two full glasses of wine, both of which Maggie tried to take. That damned raised eyebrow stopped her, and she took only hers with a pout.
Sinking back against the cushions, Maggie leisurely sipped her wine. Outwardly, she appeared sleepy and content, and Nick watched her until his patience ran out. Reaching over, he slid his hand up her nightgown and gave her a quick pinch on her hot butt.
“Ow,” she squealed, her bottom lip out as she finally set her empty glass on the table.
“Okay, darlin’, spill your guts,” he ordered.
Later he was to reflect on his poor choice of words. After Maggie had tearfully told him everything he’d been waiting to hear and more, she leaned over the couch and puked on his shoes. Too bad she wouldn’t remember any of it in the morning.