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each other was the nature of the two cousins’ relationship. Vince and Angelina had learned to stay out of it. Deep down, Maggie and Charlie loved each other until it hurt, but they’d been taking jabs at each other so long, they don’t know how to stop the insults. But Vince was conflicted as hell. Before Maggie had come along, the idea of marriage made him break into hives. Listening to his sisters warn him that his clock was ticking and he didn’t want to be bouncing babies on his bad knees when he was a senior citizen gave him a migraine. But every man he knew wanted to fuck Maggie, married or single. She had a universe full of options, and sealing the deal would make him her only choice.
    “Deep under Maggie’s surface lives the soul of a cranky cat lady with no cats,” Charlie continued since he was on a roll.
    Thatcher laughed his head off. “Why doesn’t she have any cats?”
    “Because she’d have to feed them and buy kitty litter and shit. Sorry, Vince bro, but the question isn’t when you’re going to get married; it’s when are you going to get so fucking fed up that you finally dump her ass.”
    “I’m never dumping her,” Vince said.
    “I’ll remember that when you eat those words. Look, I love Mags. I really want the best for her, but she’s not wearing your fucking ring, is she? Maggie doesn’t believe in marriage. I’m surprised she hasn’t told you that. The best relationship she’s ever had was with herself.”
    Vince crumpled his eyebrows. He couldn’t dismiss what Charlie was saying. Maggie made the worst girlfriend, but when they were together, it was fantastic.  
    She didn’t wear the engagement ring. He was determined to make her wear the fucking ring. He wasn’t one of those guys who wanted her to stay home barefoot and pregnant, but they had to live some kind of life together, like normal couples. He was tired of being penciled in on her fucking calendar. Half the time it wasn’t even her calling to make the plans; it was Mavis, her assistant. He had moved heaven and earth to lick up the crumbs of time that she had given him, but crumbs could never fill the belly. He wanted to feel fulfilled when it came to loving Maggie. He deserved way more than she was giving.
    “Does she love you?” Thatcher asked.
    “Yes, she does.” Vince was sure about the answer to that question but he looked to Charlie for consensus anyway.
    Charlie snorted. “She loves him.”
    “Then make her remember it. I’ll give you some tips,” he said. “But they can backfire if she doesn’t love you.” Thatcher had told him about borrowing tricks from BDSM culture, dominant and submissive practices. “It’s some sick shit but it works on hot chicks like her who are used to men falling all over them.”
    “Maggie’ll never be some guy’s slave,” Charlie chimed in. “If she does, I’ll kick her ass. Plus, Maggie’s not insecure.”
    “None of them are insecure until you bring it out of them,” Thatcher said.
    Vince slumped his shoulders. “You’re right, Charlie. It’s not going to work on her.”
    Thatcher slapped Vince on the shoulder. “It’ll work. Believe me dude. I studied her. She knows she hot. You want her to open wide and let you in on command?”
    The thought of having Maggie spread her legs on command made Vince’s dick throb. “Fuck yes. So how should I do it?”
    “Pull back. Make her earn every fuck and tit touch. Do you go down on her?” Thatcher asked.
    “Every chance I get.” Vince could see Thatcher fantasizing about tasting Maggie’s pussy. It kind of bothered him.
    “Then spoon-feed her that shit too. Take her to the edge, but don’t let her come until she earns it.”
    Charlie burst into laughter, pounding the bar top. “If that shit works with Maggie, then dude, you are a god, and I will bow down like a heathen and worship you.”
    “What’s the alternative?” Vince asked Charlie.
    Charlie’s laughter simmered. After pondering for a moment, he