Adam Steinbeck. My husband. A man I’d shared a bed with for years. A man I would have used fine, fine adjectives to describe a month earlier was now a stranger to me.

If not a stranger, a more evolved form of himself.

Or he was the same, and I had evolved.

Or both/neither/all/nothing.

I’d sat in boardrooms and conferences, obsessed with how I presented myself. Was I strong enough? Confident enough? Was I listening? Talking when it counted? Did I seem bitchy, sharp, entitled?

I should have watched him the way I did from his office. The door was open, and the conference room was across the hall. The blinds were open. He sat at the head of the conference table with four people. Papers everywhere. A whiteboard filled with cryptic lists and notes.

He was everything in his grey suit and red tie. He came from nothing and became everything.

He saw me through the window and the hall as I leaned on his desk. I wasn’t being suggestive, but I felt his desire.

The Adam I’d shared a bed with for years was a good man. I would have used fine adjectives to describe him. Trustworthy. Loyal. Steady.

This Adam didn’t bring those things to mind. Handsome. Confident. Powerful. Infusing the spaces he touched with licorice and leather.

I’d come to his office unbidden because my conversation with Serena had scared me. She wanted him, and she’d implied… no… I’d inferred too much from my conversation with her and the presence of an impossible dandelion. I wouldn’t have bat an eyelash at any of this when I was with the Adam I knew before. But now, I wasn’t so sure how much of that guy was left or what this one wanted. How much of his confidence let him cover lies. How much of his power would he abuse?

He got up from the meeting, said a few words, held the door open for his colleagues, and stepped through the hall as if he owned the air.

“Hello,” I said when he crossed the threshold.

He didn’t answer. He closed the door. Locked it. Dropped his folder on the long table in front of the couch. Closed the blinds to the left, then the right. Only when we were fully alone did he face me.

My heart was going to shatter my ribs, but I stayed still, more or less. Even when his eyes removed my clothes and his body hovered in the space like a predator sizing up its prey, I didn’t move.

He rested his gaze on the pearls on my throat. “Diana.”

I would have responded if I could breathe. I’d come to challenge him, and I didn’t think I’d have the strength to do it.

“Get on your knees.”

My knees obeyed, bending, holding my weight, while the space between my legs throbbed. I didn’t have a chance to think.

“It’s not two thirty.” He came close to me. His cock was three inches and a layer of fabric away.

I leaned toward it. “I skipped an appointment.”

“Why?”

“I want to talk to you.”

He took me by the chin and made me look up at him. “Standard etiquette.”

“What?”

“Standard etiquette is I put my cock down your throat then punish you for coming here when you weren’t supposed to. I make you wait to talk to me until I’m satisfied you understand your place.” He let my face go.

“Understand my place?” Even from my knees, I looked down on him and his attitude.

“Yes.” He held out his hand. I took it, and he helped me up. “But you’re a whole new way of doing things.”

“The old way could get a guy throat-punched.”

“Speaking of throats.” He touched the pearl choker. “This is beautiful. You look thoroughly possessed.”

“I’m thoroughly pissed, actually.”

“You may be untrainable, huntress. Sit.”

I sat on the couch, and he sat on the matching chair perpendicular to it.

“You were supposed to wait for me to call you,” he said.

“I saw Serena today.”

“At the shoot?”

I was surprised he didn’t give me some open-ended answer like “huh,” or “really?” He let me know right off the bat that he knew where Serena was today.

“At the shoot.”

“Why?” he asked.

“I had to tell her something, and I wanted to do it in person. And you know what? I got the distinct impression she thinks that when you and I are through here, she’s taking over.”

“Subs don’t take over.”

“You know what I mean. And I left thinking she was nuts, but then… I have to ask you something. It’s the middle of winter. Where did you find a dandelion?”

“Did you like it?”

“I didn’t understand it.”

“It was a last-minute inspiration this morning. You’re all wound up. It’s very sexy.” He raised his foot and wedged it between my knees, pushing them open.

“Where did you find the inspiration?”

“Dandelions are the most nourishing weed in the garden. You can practically live on them. If you close your legs, I’ll stop explaining.”

I opened my legs and crossed my arms. He bent at the waist, put both hands under my knees, and pulled me to the edge of the couch.

“I could have left you a hothouse flower. An orchid or something high maintenance. But think about it. This underappreciated weed grows and grows. You can’t kill it. You can try, and it comes back time after time like a big middle finger in the lawn.”

“You don’t even have a lawn.”

He put his hands on my crossed arms and exerted pressure down until I uncrossed them.

“We had one when I was growing up. We ate them with olive oil and salt.” He slid off the chair and kneeled in front of me. Pulled my skirt up slowly. “They are delicious.” He kissed inside my thigh. “They are tenacious and beautiful, just like you.”

He kissed between my legs, pressing his lips to the soaked fabric of my underwear. I gasped and dug my fingers into his scalp.

“Hands under your bottom,” he said.

I wedged them under my ass. He pulled my panties to the slide and licked the length of my seam.

“I’m not…” I fell into a groan when his tongue flicked me. “A dandelion.”

“They come and come and come.”

He sucked my clit with a constant pressure, but I wasn’t going to give him the pleasure of my pleasure for free.

“Where did you get it?” I squeaked.

“Beg to come.”

“Please.”

“Beg harder.”

He took me with the flat of his tongue then flicked again. I felt every movement, every breath. My body wanted to come, but every fiber of my soul wanted more.

“Please tell me. Just tell me. Please,” I said.

“To come, beg to—”

“Tell me, I’m begging you! I forgive you, I promise!”

He worked me like an instrument. I could barely breathe.

“Tell me where you got it. Please.”

“I’ll tell you. Now come.”

His word was good enough. When he laid his mouth on me again, I let loose with an arching back and a scream I had to bite back.

With barely a second to let me come down, he stood and took me by the arm, pulling me to the floor. I was on my knees in front of him before I had a chance to think.

“I own the building the shoot was on. I went this morning to make sure the permits were cleared. The dandelion was in the greenhouse on the roof. You can check the deeds with the city.” He tilted my face up to him.

“The owner of the building goes to check the permits? Please. Give me a break.”

“She was nervous about the net. She wanted me to look at them. I’m aware that I don’t know anything about hanging a net on the side of a building. I know she was manipulating me. But if something happened, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself. So I went.”

“Did she try to sleep with you?”

“Yes.”

“What did she do?” I asked.

“Why are you asking this?”

“I’m curious.”

“She got on her knees. I told her to get up. She asked why. I told her I’d had her already. I didn’t want a second go round. I was an asshole.”

“I don’t think it worked.”

“That’s how it goes with emotional masochists.” He stroked my cheek with his thumb. “Open your mouth.”

“She thinks when our contract is up, she’s going to be yours.”

“I said open your mouth.” He undid his trousers. “I didn’t say talk with it.”

His dick was out, and my mouth watered for it.

“Adam, I can’t do this if you’re making plans for after.”

“I’m not making any plans. But Diana, hear me. We can’t ever be what we were. I explained this. Do you understand it?”

“If you want my full attention, I need yours.”

He took my chin again, pressing his fingers into my cheeks. “You have it. Open your mouth.”

I opened, pressing the back of my tongue down for the length and girth of his cock. He thrust into me, taking my throat repeatedly, letting me breathe, then fucking my mouth again.

“Deep breath. I’m coming,” he growled.

I took a deep breath and opened up all the way.

He fucked my face, holding me still while he thrust. “Fuck. Coming so hard down your throat. Swallow it.” I felt the first spatter on the roof of my mouth, and he slid against it to go deep. “Take it all.”

He took his dick out, and I swallowed every last drop.

“There’s no one else,” he said, running his fingers through my hair as I licked him clean, looking up at his beautiful, satisfied face. “I’m doing this with you. One hundred percent. I’m training you to leave me again.”

I took him in my mouth so I wouldn’t answer that I was the one who was training him.