I’ve managed to hold down fluids now for twenty-four hours. Chad picked up some vicious stomach bug at school, has been down for the count for four days straight, and graciously gave it to me. We ordered groceries online and have finally pulled through. What sucks is it’s now been a full week since I’ve seen Tobias. We’ve kept in touch, and he almost came to see me to help when I was sick, but I made him keep his distance. He compromised by leaving Gatorade and popsicles at my door. I would’ve loved to have him here, watching over me. I want to crawl on his lap and have him hold me. But he’s got shit to do, and it’s important I not screw that up.

He texts me and calls every day, and it’s been almost a blessing, being sick like this, because he’s proving the kind of guy he is. Funny. Sweet. Protective. He makes me smile, and I miss him. And he’s been asking to see Chad, too. I need to see him again.

I’m reading his text from the night before, but still, I don’t really understand his… attention.

Sleep well, honey xx is the normal text.

It’s just not something a girl like me gets used to, even if he ends every night with the same sweet message.

Ok so maybe… some girls get used to it. But not me.

I look at my phone before I brush my teeth. Again, when I get into my pajamas, and again when I slide under the covers in bed. I replay his messages. I wait for his call. And when I wake in the morning, I smile as a new, “good morning” message comes in.

Morning, beautiful. Did you sleep well?

Not as well as when he’s by my side but yes, I did.

I did, thanks. You?

Not so much. Got another disturbing call from NYPD, but I can fill you in later. Please be careful. Don’t come to Verge unless I bring you, okay?

I frown. That’s not what I’m expecting to hear, and this news makes my skin prickle. Yes, of course.

Thank you. But that wasn’t the correct response.

My cheeks flame. Yes, sir.

Very good. May I call? Do you feel well enough to talk?

Yes! Yes, sir. :)

A few seconds later, my cell rings. “Good morning,” I greet.

“Hey, honey.” His deep voice instantly soothes me. “What do you have going on today?”

“Well, I’ve got a client at noon I’m meeting for lunch to discuss the floor plans for their new estate on the upper east side. They’re pretty high-powered and willing to spend a good deal on making their place exactly what they want, so I’ll spend a lot of time with them this afternoon.”

“Sounds good. Chad already at school?”

“No, he gets the bus in about half an hour.” I stretch and get out of bed. “Gotta make sure he’s up and dressed. Over breakfast I’ll talk to him and let you know what he thinks about the movies?”

“Perfect. Do you have time to meet me for coffee before your lunch?”

I feel like I’m a high schooler and the varsity football captain had just asked her on a first date.

“Yes!” God, do I have to sound so eager? Tamping down my excitement, I amend. “Would love that. Where do you want to meet?”

“I’d rather pick you up, and we can go to the bookstore around the corner from Verge, Books and Cups?”

“Never been there but sure.”

“Ok, see you at ten? Does that work?”

“Sure.” Since I do most of my work from home unless meeting with clients, that’s perfect.

“Later, babe.”

“Later.”

I disconnect the call and push myself out of bed, smiling as I dress. “Chad, honey? Are you awake?” I call into the other room, and don’t hear a response, but I hear the water running in the bathroom. “You in there, Chad?”

“Yeah,” he says through the door.

“I’ll make you breakfast.”

I go to the kitchen and make myself coffee, remembering the coffee Tobias made me. I smile to myself, as the hot liquid pours into my cup, the smell filling my senses. The door buzzes.

Tapping the speaker, I talk into it, glancing at the clock. Way too early for Tobias. “Yes?”

“It’s me, Bea. Lemme in! I come bearing gifts.”

I hit the buzzer and go back to making coffee when the knock comes at the door. Chad emerges from the bathroom.

“That’s your Aunt Beatrice. Let her in?”

Nodding, he opens the door.

“Hey, sweetie,” Beatrice says, holding a pastry box marked Tulio’s.

“It’s not even fair, you getting donuts on the way back from yoga,” I chide.

“I think it’s super fair,” Chad says, opening up the lid and grinning as he snags the vanilla-frosted.

I ruffle his hair as I make my way over to the table with my coffee and snag a chocolate-covered donut. “God, this looks amazing. I’m starving.” I take a bite and it tastes delicious after living on saltine crackers and water for days.

Beatrice sits at the dining room table and takes a sip out of the water bottle she perpetually lugs around with her, before she grabs a glazed donut. “I’m feeling like a splurge.”

I wink at her and sip my coffee. “Chad, I spoke with Tobias last night.” Bea sits up, paying attention. Naturally. “He asked if we could go to the NYC kids’ film festival. Starts this week.”

Chad frowns at his donut. “Outside? In the cold?”

“No, it’s inside.”

“Will there be lots of people there?”

“Likely, yes.”

He chews his donut thoughtfully. “But you’ll be there, and Tobias, too? So I can sit between you?”

“Yes.”

“If he’s there, I’ll go.” I feel my eyes widen. He never agrees to anything so readily.

“Alrighty, then, I’ll let him know.”

“You gonna text him?”

“No, I’m meeting him for coffee.”

“Really,” Beatrice notes, but I ignore her. I glance at the clock, and usher Chad along with his bag and coat, to catch the bus. I run back upstairs a few minutes later, wrapped in a coat and shivering.

“My God it’s cold out there.”

Beatrice had cleaned up the donuts and is sitting with her feet tucked under her on the couch.

“Glad you decided to heat things up,” She quips.

I roll my eyes.

“Sooo.” Beatrice continues. “You and Tobias are going to the movies. And he wants to bring Chad? And you’re meeting him for coffee? Have you… found a way to figure out how you’re going to settle what you owe him?”

I swallow and push my lips together to keep my face sober. It’s so tempting to squeal like a little girl to my bestie. “I… may have already settled that expense.”

Beatrice’s brows shoot up. “You what? Did you… no. I know you didn’t have the money. So how did you… Diana!”

“Whatever you’re thinking, it’s probably wrong. I didn’t, like, suck his cock or spread my legs for him. Well….”

“Diana!”

“I… didn’t do it for money. I mean the spreading my legs part. I haven’t gotten to the sucking cock part.” I shake my head. “My God, the shit you make me say.”

“I didn’t make you say anything! You slept with him. Already?”

“Yes, and it was amazing, so shut up. But that isn’t how I paid for the… um… damage.”

Beatrice’s brows draw together and her voice hardens. “Girl? Spill.”

“Okay, so he made me an offer and I, um, took it. I… took a spanking as punishment and it wiped my slate clean, and then it turned me way on, so we started getting it on but then, douchebag Billy stepped in as you know, so we had to postpone the, um, getting it on part, but then we did and it was amazing. And I have zero regrets. Zero. I don’t even regret keying his car. Well, like in a way maybe I do because that was still a shit thing to do, but… well, it brought us together.” I’m out of breath with this rapid explanation.

“My God. You’re at the stammering fixation stage! Did you think of him when you woke up?”

“Well, yes.”

“Last thought before you went to bed?”

“Maybe.”

“And at any point this morning,” Beatrice continues, probing me with an intense gaze as she crosses her arms on her chest, “Did an inanimate object of some type make you think of him?”

I remember the coffee. “Well… uh, yeah.”

Beatrice sits back and shakes her head. “Girl, you’re past the stammering fixation stage and you’ve moved head over heels into the infatuation stage.”

I can’t help but sigh. “Shit. You’re right.”

“Wait, you think this is a bad thing?”

“Well yeah. I’ve jumped so quickly into my last relationships, and I don’t want to make the same mistakes I’ve made before.”

“Has he given you reason to feel this way?”

I think of our interactions since we’ve met. “He’s made me text him things I like about myself and told me if I said another self-deprecating remark, he would… I was… like, in trouble.”

“Ooooh. I like that.” Beatrice leans in on her knees. “Did the spanking hurt? God, I want a spanking.”

I snort. “Yes, but it was super-hot. And don’t expect me to show you my ass every time.”

Beatrice waves her hand. “Seen enough of your ass.”

“As besties should,” I snort, finishing off my coffee. “Okay, Bea. Thanks for the donuts. Gotta get prepped for my lunchtime client.”

“…and your mid-morning hottie. I get it. Listen, Diana.”

She stands and her gaze softens. “I care about you. Talk to me. I’ll help you make whatever decisions you need to, and help you not go too fast too soon. Okay?”

Impulsively, I wrap my arms around Beatrice’s neck. “Thanks, babe,” I whisper. I pull away, suddenly remembering something Tobias said the night before. “You know, Tobias has a friend who’s a detective. And he’s also a member of the club.”

“Reallllly.”

“Yep. I’ll find out more today and let you know?”

Beatrice shakes her head. “Find out if his friend is hot. If you come back and don’t give me that very important piece of information, I’ll spank your ass.”

“Lovely. Getting dommed on every side now.”

Beatrice blows me a kiss and takes her leave. I get ready for the day, wishing that I’d asked Beatrice to stay long enough to pick out what I’m wearing. In the end, I choose a typical outfit I’d wear to meet any client in the frigid weather: a pair of knee-high boots with black leggings and a patterned tunic top in golds and browns made of a soft, warm fabric that hugs my curves. I toss a filmy gold scarf around my neck, and fluff up my crazy curls, then work on my files all morning, preparing for my meeting later, until the buzzer in my living room snaps me out of my trance. Getting quickly to my feet, I glance at the time. It’s already ten. That’s Tobias then.

Racing into the living room, I hit the buzzer.

“Come on up!”

I run to the bathroom to check my makeup as quickly as I can, dabbing foundation on to smooth out my skin, applying a layer of sheer lip gloss, and finish just as a knock sounds at the door.

Peeking through the peephole, I confirm it’s Tobias, and open the door quickly, smiling as he enters. He, however, is not grinning.

“Hey,” I greet.

Without preamble, he says, “You always buzz people up without even finding out who they are?”

Oh. Shit.

“Um… if I’m expecting someone? Yes?”

He frowns and juts his chin to the door. “Shut and lock it, Diana.”

I do, my stomach twisting a bit as I do, then I spin to look at him. He stands watching me with his arms crossed on his chest. He nods, then opens his arms and beckons me over. I approach him, wondering what he’ll do. Would something like that get me... punished? When I reach him, he places his fingers under my chin, locking his gaze with mine. “I don’t want to see you do that again. Understood?”

I nod dumbly. His eyes probe mine, conveying his seriousness, before he releases my chin and nods, letting out a breath. “Can’t stomach the shit that’s going on right around the corner from me, hate the idea of some sick fuck taking advantage of women. I might seem overprotective, but I get that way sometimes about people I care about.”

The skin on the back of my neck prickles at the knowledge there’s been another victim, while at the same time a small shiver shudders through me because he’d said people I care about, and damn, I want that, so much so that tears dampen my eyes. I blink them away quickly and swallow. Something seems to soften in him at that, his body relaxing as he pulls me into him and gently weaves his fingers through the curls at the nape of my neck. My hands rest on his hips as his head tips forward and our lips brush, the slightest glimmer of a kiss, before his grip tightens and he deepens the kiss, but only briefly. He leaves me breathless when he pulls back, and his mouth comes to my ear. “Missed you, honey.”

“Missed you, too, handsome,” I whisper back.

He holds my hand and steps back, taking a long, appraising look at me. “Wow. You dress this way for clients every day?”

I grin. “Well, yeah. I’m a professional. These particular people are high rollers on Wall Street, and have a lot more money than time, so they need me to handle things quickly and efficiently.”

“Ah. So they’re worth big bucks, therefore you need to dress like a million bucks?” His eyes crinkle around the edges as he teases me.

“Well,” I say, “Lucky for me, you’re used to women dressed in latex and leather, so it doesn’t take much to impress you.”

With a snort, he spins me around and smacks my ass before we leave. We go to the coffee shop, talking easily as we drive. God, it’s nice being with him again. It feels easy. Right.

He parks his car beside a parking meter.

“Owner’s a good friend of mine,” he says. “You’ll like her.”

Her? A twinge of something that resembles jealousy hits my chest as he shuts his door and comes around to open mine. What the hell’s up with that? I shove the jealousy away, surprised at the sudden vehemence. He opens my door and takes my hand, helping me out. A gust of wind bites straight through my coat and scarf, making me shiver. Without a word, he wraps his arm around me, shielding me from the wind, and ushers me into the entryway door. A bell jingles when we enter.

“Hello!”

“Hey, Marla.” Tobias leads me into the main part of the store. “Meet Diana.”

Marla’s beautiful, and though she’s dressed in dark-colored straight-leg jeans and a V-neck light blue sweater, and could easily pass for a school teacher or librarian, I suspect he knows her from somewhere else. She smiles. “Diana,” she says. “Master Tobias.” She doesn’t even blink when she calls him Master.

I knew, then, how she and Tobias were friends.

“Cup of coffee?” Tobias asks, standing by a large glass display case filled with oversized muffins, golden croissants, and large slices of something that looks decadent, labeled “iced lemon loaf.” My mouth waters.

“Please,” I say.

“Food?”

“Oh, lemon cake. I love that. Where do you get your baked goods?” I ask Marla, as Tobias places his order and Marla pushes over two steaming cups of coffee and two plates laden with the delicacies.

“From her own kitchen,” Tobias says with a note of pride that revives the jealousy I felt earlier.

Girl, grow up.

“No way! You bake your own things?”

Marla smiles. “I do. I love to bake, always have, and when I had the chance to combine my two greatest loves, books and baking, it seemed like a gift from the gods.”

The door jingles again, and a group of three women bustle in, bringing in a gust of cold.

“Her third love is in the corner over there,” Tobias says with a teasing glint in his eye, pointing to a large, elaborate display in the back corner of the store with a hand tooled sign that hangs above that reads, “Love knows no boundaries.” Beneath the sign sits a pyramid-shaped display of glossy covers I can’t quite read from where I stand.

“Sir, behave,” Marla says quietly, but she gives me a teasing wink, before she goes to welcome the new guests. I follow Tobias to a circular area with an assortment of plush arm chairs and round tables in front of a real working fireplace that flickers and glows, embedded in a stone wall.

“I cannot believe I’ve never been in here,” I say, shaking my head. “This is like… stepping back in time or something.”

Tobias nods, obviously pleased. “My sister would love a place like this. She’s in college on the West Coast, double major, doesn’t have a lot of time for pleasure reading.”

“No way! You have a sister young enough to be in college?”

He grins. “Do I look that old?”

I snort and shake my head. “Well… define that old.”

“I’m thirty-six,” he says. “You?”

“Thirty-one. I had Chad before I’d graduated college.”

He nods. “I’m fourteen years older than my baby sister.”

“Wow, that’s a huge difference.”

“Yeah. And since my dad took off when I was a kid, and I was the oldest, my sister and I got tight. She looked up to me, and she didn’t have much in the way of parents, so you know, I took care of her. We read a lot when I put her to bed at night, and she became a really big reader. In fact, she’s studying creative writing at UCLA.”

“Good for her. Did she get a scholarship?” I ask, then realize I sound nosy. “Sorry, I don’t mean to pry—”

He shakes his head, his eyes sobering. “Listen, Diana. Things are moving fast here, between us,” he says. “There’s no apologizing for prying. You have a question, you ask. I’ve got nothing to hide.”

I like that. “Okay,” I whisper, wondering if I can really give him the same courtesy.

“She got a scholarship, but it’s expensive out there. So I’m helping and she’s getting some loans, too.”

“Geez. That’s a big responsibility.”

He lifts a shoulder. “Nothing I’m not used to. I was the one in charge of three kids since the time I was a kid myself. Never really got a chance to be a kid and never really wanted to. It came natural to me, taking care of them. Teaching them. Just part of who I am. It’s kinda why I feel so comfortable around Chad.”

That explains a lot. “You said your mom lives locally?”

He huffs out a laugh and polishes off the last of his muffin before responding. “Yes.” I watch as his stern face softens, and he scrubs a hand across the stubble at his jaw, his coal-black eyes warming. When he speaks, his voice is lower, almost reverent. “My mom’s never left New York. Lives in a residence home about thirty minutes from here. Pricy, but some of my siblings pitch in.” His gaze comes back to mine. “I’d like to take you to meet her someday.”

Something tells me that would be a big step for him. He isn’t an easy man to please, and the way he talks about his mama, I already know I’ll like her.

“Explains a lot,” I say.

“What’s that?”

“The way you’re all bossy. You’ve been, like, a father figure to your siblings, in charge of taking care of everyone and everything since you were practically out of diapers.”

His lips tip up. “Yeah, pretty much.” He leans back and sips his coffee. “So, your turn.”

Suddenly, I’m not so comfortable here. “Me?”

“Yeah, honey. What about you? Got any brothers or sisters?”

“No. I was an only child.” I look away, not liking this conversation but knowing it will feel better just to say it, have it out in the open. “Mom was a working mom, worked her ass off. My father was an alcoholic. Left my mom the day I graduated high school. Said she didn’t need him anymore, had done his duty, and he left. Just like that.”

He whistles. “What we have in common, huh?”

I laugh. It surprises me how easy it is to laugh with him about something that’s always made me so sad. “Yeah, bonded over broken families, huh?”

“Shit thing to be bonded over, but yeah,” he says easily. “What time’s your client meeting?”

“Noon.”

“Got you for another hour, then.”

My belly dips at the possessive sound in his voice, and I suddenly wish we were no longer sitting in a coffee shop with no privacy. “Yeah,” I whisper. “So these books…” My gaze wanders back to the elaborate display near the coffee counter. “Dare I look?”

He snorts. “Yeah, babe. Let’s take a look.” His eyes twinkle, and the way his lips purse, I can tell these are not the kind of books he’d read. “Not sure why you girls go for these books so much, but it is what it is.” He takes my hand and leads me to the display, where I immediately recognize the black covers with handcuffs. A quick perusal of the covers and synopses confirmed my suspicions.

“Ah. I wondered as much. What, you don’t like lifestyle books? BDSM not your thing?” I tease.

He growls, his eyes narrowing but twinkling.

“What?” I push, keeping my voice intentionally loud. “I don’t know. These books are kinda fun. Lets a girl fantasize a bit.” I pick one up and flip the pages. “I mean, you don’t just run into a hot, badass dom on the street. You know? I mean, they’re fast becoming an endangered species. Most supposed doms you meet on the internet are holed up in their mama’s basement shooting off orders to their ‘subs’ and wouldn’t know how to balance a bank account, never mind shoulder the responsibility of authority and leadership.” I jump as a hoot of laughter from the counter gets my attention. Marla’s grinning at me.

“You’re so right, girlfriend,” she says. “I mean, where do you even find a club around here? All those posers.”

“Right? That’s what I’m saying,” I say, not meeting Tobias’ eyes. God, it’s fun goading the Big Bad Dom. “Damn near ready to spank my own ass,” I mutter, loud enough for Marla to hear, drawing another hoot of laughter.

“Playin’ with fire, honey,” the low drawl comes in my ear, making me shiver deliciously.

“Am I?” I whisper back, swallowing hard and placing the book on the shelf.

“You stoke that fire well enough, you’ll get your ass burned.”

“Is that right?”

“Diana…”

“Tobias,” I mock.

“Honey, do you have any idea how close we are to Verge? The empty Verge, where not so much as a bartender has yet entered?”

I turn to him then, the dampness between my thighs unmistakable. “Yeah?” I whisper. “Lucky for me, I know the guy in charge.” I wiggle my eyebrows at him.

He swallows so hard I can hear the sound as his Adam’s apple bobs, before he leans in. “How much time before you meet your client again?”

“Fifty minutes left, handsome.”

“Let’s go.”