I made the trek to my dad's apartment from mine, walking south and then east beside Central Park and then south again to his apartment building. This time, I went in the front entrance, carrying my backpack filled with my MacBook and clothes, makeup and a few personal items. I took the small elevator up to his suite and used my key to enter the front door.

The living room was empty. Elaine was nowhere to be seen, so after I took off my coat and placed my backpack in my old bedroom, I went to the study. My father was sitting at his huge desk, on the phone as usual. He saw me and waved me over while he kept talking. I went to him and waited.

"Yes, certainly, I agree," he said, turning his cheek for me to kiss. I bent down to kiss him. "That's the tack we'll take."

He waved at me to sit on the chair across from him. I did, staring at the pictures on the wall from my trip to Africa. He seemed as if he were trying to end the conversation with whoever was on the other line and finally, said goodbye. He put the phone down and made a face at me, rolling his eyes.

"Long-winded sonofabitch. Sorry, dear. I had to finish that call."

"That's all right."

He stood and came around his desk, leaning against it, directly in front of me, his eyes intense and focused on me, his half-eye glasses in his hand.

"So tell me why you needed to get away from it all. Does this involve Drake in some way?"

I nodded and my throat closed up a bit as emotion filled me. I covered my mouth for a moment, unable to speak.

"Now, you see, I thought things were going well for you two," he said, shaking his head. "You seemed really intense at the concert. What happened? Lover's quarrel?"

"Something like that," I said, getting hold of myself, surprised that my father thought we were lovers.

"Tell your old man what happened. I know Drake is a very eligible bachelor, but you're a very lovely young woman, accomplished and intelligent. Did he want to move the relationship forward too fast? Is he getting too serious?"

"No, Daddy, nothing like that. It's just we're not really compatible, I guess."

He frowned. "Here I thought the two of you were so well-matched."

"Why did you think that?"

He shrugged, pursed his lips. "You're both attractive, intelligent, civic-minded. You both love music. You both share Africa."

"He's a Republican," I said, trying to come up with some reason.

He laughed. "I know, and you don't know how surprised I was to find out. His old man was a flaming socialist, but I guess kids have a tendency to go the opposite way from their parents. You know, in rebellion..." He shook his head, smiling. "What an idealistic fool Liam was, but I loved the crazy bastard anyway. He was a heroic sonofabitch. I don't know how many of us he saved." He shrugged, his hands clasped. "So you're not on the same political page. Liam and I were best friends over in 'Nam. Stranger things have happened before between political opposites. In fact, sometimes, they make the best matches. Opposites attract, you know. Yin/yang…"

Yin/Yang? The Drill Sergeant talking Tao? My father had never talked to me like this. I never heard him describe me before.

"Yin/Yang?" I said, wanting to probe him a bit, since he seemed so talkative.

"Yes, you know. Light/dark. Positive/negative. Active/passive. Male/female.  It's what makes the world go round," he said, winking at me.

"Daddy, I've never heard you talk like this. Is this Elaine's influence on you?"

"Good Lord, no. I'm not a spring chicken, Katherine. I've been around the block a few times. Why, once upon a time, I too was a young man out pitching woo." He grinned.

"Pitching woo," I said and smiled. I exhaled, my cheeks a bit heated at what he'd said. "Things just can't work out between us."

"I thought you two were so right for each other," he said. "That's why I invited him to the concert. Why, I've been told by women who know about these things that he's very attractive." He wagged his eyebrows at me and smiled. "I could tell he was attracted to you at the dinner party, the way he kept following you around like a dog after a bone. When we were at the health club, he raved to me about your writing, especially your piece on Africa. You know how important Africa is to him. I thought he might bring you out of your shell. Lighten you up a bit. You've been a bit reclusive since your mother passed and since that business after Africa..."

That business after Africa. My father couldn't admit that I developed clinical depression.

"Kurt was obviously a jerk, but I though Drake was more your type. Strong. Confident. Competent."

"You were matchmaking for me, Daddy?"

He smiled. "Someone's gotta do it. You don't seem all that good on your own. I wanted you and Drake to meet for quite some time, but you've been so reclusive and Dawn isn't much better. Didn't she join a nunnery or something?"

I laughed, in spite of my sadness. "No," I said, smiling just a bit. "She volunteered in India with Mother Theresa's charity. She's trying to set me up, too."

"The Greg fellow? He was a bust."

"Daddy! He was a nice young man. He just finished his MFA…"

"Extremely milquetoast, if I recall…" my father said, shaking his head. "Not your type."

I frowned and examined him closely. "What is my type?"

He picked up his glass of scotch and took a sip. "Someone like Drake Morgan, I'd say. Or at least I thought so, which is why I encouraged it."

Someone like Drake Morgan…

I sat there, frowning to myself, surprised at this turn of events.

"And what is Drake Morgan like?"

"He's very intelligent, capable, strong, confident, professional. He's a man's man, but he knows how to treat a woman, I'd say, judging by the attention he gave you at the dinner party and the concert. I know him very well, Katherine, and I thought he was just about perfect for you." He shrugged. "But I guess if you don’t like him, I was wrong. Usually, I'm a very good judge of character. I pride myself on it, given I have to judge people all the time."

"I do like him, Daddy. It's just not going to work out."

"Shame." He drank the rest of his scotch down. "Why don't you get your old man a refill and get yourself something to drink? The sun's over the yardarm. There's a girl."

He handed me his empty glass and I nodded, returning to the living room and the bar. As I refilled his scotch, I felt such conflicting emotions. My father actually thought about the kind of man I needed…

He thought Drake was that kind of man.

 

After a casual dinner with Elaine, we three sat in the den and listened to music, something way too abstract for me, modern classical, chatting about nothing in particular. I forced myself to stay with them as long as possible, the sadness building inside of me. Finally, I couldn’t take it any longer and faked a yawn and stood, ready for escape.

"I'm going to bed early. I've had a busy day and I've got lots of work on my plate tomorrow."

"Good night sweetheart," my father said when I leaned down to kiss him on the cheek. "Sweet dreams. I'm sure things will all work out with Drake."

"I don't think so, Daddy."

"Well, these things have a way of working out for the best eventually."

I went to my room, a sickness in my gut that this was not going to work out between Drake and me the way my father thought. I was tempted to check my mail to see if Drake had written or texted me, but I fought the urge. After washing my face and brushing my teeth in my old bathroom off my bedroom, I crept onto the huge four-poster bed and under the quilt. I lay in the darkness, thinking about Drake. He was strong, competent, professional. He did know how to treat a woman. Make her feel as if she was the center of his attention.

I tossed and turned for quite a while, wondering if I'd ever see him again, finally dissolving into tears at the thought I might not.

 

I skipped classes the next morning, deciding to work on my paper instead. I tried to work at my father's apartment, but had left an important file at my apartment, so after lunch, I said goodbye to my father as he sat in his study, on the phone. I went to my front door and of course, someone had propped open the door. I kicked the cardboard out that was used to prop the door open and went up the stairs. Inside, I found my files and put them in my backpack. A light flashed on my answering machine on the landline, and I checked the record of callers. Drake showed up several times as did Dawn's number.

Finally, I took out my cell and sat on the couch, checking my email and texts.

There were several from Drake.

 

Kate, please call me.

 

Kate, what happened? You were fine when I left you…

 

Will you at least answer my texts so I know you're OK?

 

The last one was from just a few moments earlier.

 

Kate, I'm coming over to talk to you. Please give me the chance to make it right…

 

If he came over, if I got within arm's reach of him, I knew I’d cave and if Dawn caught wind of me still seeing him, she'd get him in trouble. I grabbed my coat and backpack and left the apartment, rushing down the stairs to the back alley. I slipped along the streets, and then doubled back, going to my favorite deli across from my apartment building, entering from the back door on the alley. I went to a small table in the bay window so I could watch in case Drake arrived. I sat with my cup of tea and kept an eye on the street.

Sure enough, in about ten minutes, Drake's sleek black car drove up. He double-parked and then he left the car and ran up to my building's front door. He was wearing his scrubs and lab coat, a little blue scrub cap still on his head. He stood at the door and jiggled it, but couldn’t get inside. There was no buzzer system so he was out of luck. As I watched, he took out his cell, tapped on the screen and then held it up to his ear.

Seconds later, my cell buzzed. I checked it and the call display read Drake Morgan, MD.

I refused the call, sending him to my voicemail.

My heart sped up to see him, and I felt a real pang of guilt and sadness at what happened but I couldn’t see any way out of it. I had to just end it. I was mortified that I was so careless with the agreement that Dawn found it.

He sat on the steps and just redialed. Again and again. As I watched out the window, he typed on his cell.

 

At least tell me why you don't want to be with me. What was it? Did the contract scare you? Don't be afraid, Kate. You can strike off anything that you don't want to do. I just included those things that I know probably upset you so you'd have something to cross off. I don't need to do them. I don’t need to do anything that you don’t want to do. I want to be with you.

 

Please, give this time.

 

My heart actually hurt as I read his text, like a knife in my chest and my throat choked up. At that moment, I hated Dawn so much…

 

Drake, I'm doing this for you. To protect you.  I can't say anything more but you have to stop trying to see me. You have to just stop for your own good.  I can't say more….

 

I'm sorry…

 

Then I shut off my phone and watched him. He persisted for a while but then stopped, going to his car and driving off. I bit my lip to stop my tears.

 

I just lay around my apartment all afternoon, spending time there after Drake left, lying on the couch watching stupid soap operas. Finally, before supper, I walked back to my father's apartment. I went right to my bedroom and closed the door, sad that I was not going to be with Drake. I sat on the bed and just wiped my face as tears flowed, unable to stop them now that I was back at my father's apartment. After a few moments, I heard a knock at my door.

"Sweetheart? Can I come in?"

"No," I said, my voice breaking.

"How come? You sound like you need to talk."

"I need to be alone."

The door opened and he came in anyway, sitting next to me on the bed. He put his arm around me and squeezed me, and that only made me cry even harder.

"There, there, doll," he said, grabbing a tissue off my night table. "This Drake misunderstanding has really upset you."

"It's not a misunderstanding. It's just not going to work out."

He just sat with me for a moment as I finally got hold of myself.

"Look, you have some time off next week. I was thinking you should come down to the Bahamas with us for the weekend. Get away from it all. Sun, sand, white beaches, lots of tropical drinks. You've been working like a dog for years, Kate. Some R&R would be good for you. What do you think?"

"When would you want to go?"

"Next Wednesday over the Thanksgiving weekend. Will you be able to sneak away?"

I thought about it. I did have some time off and really, the idea of getting away from everything appealed to me.

I nodded. "I just have to hand in an article to the student newspaper."

"Good. We'll get a ticket for you. We'll get a couple of suites at the British Colonial Hilton in Nassau, on Paradise Island so there's more than enough room. We can do some snorkeling, scuba diving, or nothing at all. Whatever you want."

I smiled and leaned against him, surprised that he was being so attentive and thoughtful.

 

The following week went faster than I imagined. I ignored and deleted all of Drake's and Dawn's texts and emails unread. To my surprise, Drake didn't show up at my doorstep and I was sad but relieved. At least I wouldn't have to deal with him.

He must have finally given up.

Each night I tossed and turned in my bed at my father's house, remembering everything that happened between Drake and me before falling into a fitful sleep. Each day I went through the motions of my life, rushing through things in the hope that one more day would be over and I could go back to sleep – a dangerous state I'd been in after my trip to Africa. I recognized the symptoms of depression and couldn't wait for a change of scenery. I figured going to the Bahamas would provide me an escape from the reminders of what almost, but didn't quite, happen between Drake and me.

I spent an all-nighter getting an article finished for Geist on Tuesday. I packed a small bag with summer clothes from storage, sundresses, sandals and a bikini and bought some sunscreen and sunglasses at the local drugstore.

The Wednesday evening flight took us right to the Bahamas and a limo drove us to beautiful resort on the water. The British Colonial Hilton looked like a huge plantation with white sand beaches and palm trees. We arrived late that night and went right to our rooms, which were adjoining, each suite a one bedroom with separate living areas.

I was exhausted. Maybe just the thought that I was away from everything, my article written, with no work ahead of me for four glorious days, made me collapse into bed. I fell asleep in minutes, the bedside lamp still on.

 

I slept late and my father didn't wake me as he usually would have for an early morning walk on the beach. Instead, there was a note from him slipped under my door. They let me sleep in, not wanting to wake me on the first day of my very short vacation.

 

Katherine,

 

Take your time this morning and just rest. Go for a walk on the beach. We've already had breakfast and have gone for a boat ride. Meet us at the restaurant at noon for lunch. Then, we'll go scuba diving in the afternoon. We have lessons booked. Tonight, we'll have a nice Thanksgiving Dinner. The hotel puts on a great spread for American guests.

 

Love, Dad and Elaine

 

It was 11:00. I got up and went to the window to look out over the ocean. The weather was perfect, the sky clear, the water azure, the sand white. Palm trees swayed in the breeze and people took their places on the beach.

After a shower, I put on my white bikini and favorite piece of clothing for summer – a little white eyelet sundress with thin straps. I was white as a ghost, my fair skin guaranteed to burn unless I slathered on copious amounts of sunscreen, which I did. Before I met with my father and Elaine, I slipped out the front door to the beach and took off my sundress, holding it as I walked along, hoping to soak up a few rays of sun, avoiding the tourists, ankle-deep in the surf. I kept my face in the sun to get some color. I intended to only be out on the beach for ten minutes, but I got busy wading along, holding my sundress up, my legs in the cool water. It was so quiet and peaceful, I just walked and walked, stopping now and then to pick up a stray shell or examine a piece of driftwood that washed up on the shore.

Finally, realizing I'd been gone for longer than I intended, I turned back and made my way to the hotel. My cheeks were already hot from the sun and the fact I'd left my sunhat in the room, not planning to be away for so long. I could already see a bit of red on my exposed skin despite the sunscreen.

I put my sundress back on and went into the hotel to the restaurant, for I was already late. It was then I saw a billboard in the lobby with a list of conventions being held at the hotel that week. A variety, but most had a medical theme. One in particular caught my eye:

 

Deep Brain Stimulation in Pediatric Movement Disorders – Lower Level, Empress Room

 

Drake did deep brain stimulation. He treated pediatric cases and I remembered the story he told of the small boy from South Africa who gave him the tooled leather wristband. I stood staring at the billboard and wondered if it was possible… Surely he wouldn't be at this hotel of all hotels in the world.

I heard some laughter and conversation from guests who were ascending the staircase that led up from the lower levels. Men and women dressed in casual clothes fitting to a resort in the Bahamas – khakis and white shirts, sandals.

Bringing up the rear was Drake Morgan.

He was dressed in white and looked devastatingly gorgeous – white linen shirt, sleeves rolled up, neck unbuttoned and tail untucked over white Dockers and black leather sandals. His hair was a bit mussed, and his face slightly tanned with a bit of scruff on his jaw. He was with a woman as tall as him, with fashionably long blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail and a nice tan. She was wearing something casual but still fashionable – a shirt and skirt that looked straight from the outback. They laughed together as they talked, his hands animated.

He was already with someone new? Was she his sub? Would he bring a sub to a convention?

He saw me and stopped in his tracks, blinking. His companion stopped and stared at me, a smile on her lovely face.

"Excuse me," Drake said to her. I turned on my heel, my stomach in my throat, adrenaline washing through me.

"Kate!" he said, and then I heard him speaking to her in a low voice, but couldn’t make out what he said.

What the hell… Did my father arrange all this, hoping we'd run into Drake?

I was mortified.

I made it to the elevator but he was right there beside me, his hand on my arm.

"Kate," he said, stopping me when the elevator doors opened. "You arrived."

I turned to him, completely flustered. "I arrived?"

"Yes," he said and let go of my arm. "I was expecting you."

I got on the elevator and he followed me, closing the door and pressing the close button before anyone else could get on like he wanted to be alone with me. Then he cornered me, his arm on the elevator wall, his body so close to mine I could smell a hint of coconut, as if he'd put on some sunscreen recently. I avoided his eyes, unsure if I could control my emotions.

"Was this all a set-up?"

He said nothing, so I glanced up at his face. He was smiling softly.

"You could call it that."

"You and my father?"

"Me and your father. He thought it might be a good idea for us to get away from it all, work through this 'difficulty' we're facing, I think he said. I agreed."

I frowned, something building in me, feeling like it would explode any moment. "What did you tell him?"

"Oh, I made something up about how you were concerned about my schedule, and how busy I was, thinking I wouldn't have time for you. That kind of thing. He bought it completely." He moved a bit closer, running his fingers over my cheeks. "You're a bit burnt. Your skin is so fair..."

"I told you we can't be together."

He leaned down and caught my eye. "You said you were doing this for my own good. I have to know what you mean by that or else I can't accept it. I'm the one who should decide what's for my own good."

"Drake this can't happen."

"Shh. When I told your father about a conference I had to attend and that I was not looking forward to it because I was worried about you, he offered to bring you here for a bit of a getaway. Of course, I thought it was a spectacular idea…"

When the elevator door opened, he stepped away and I made a beeline to my suite, using the keycard to open the door. I went inside and he followed me, coming to stand beside me as I watched out the window.

"Kate…" he said, taking my shoulders in his hands, turning me to face him. "Come here."

"Who was that woman you were with?"

He frowned, then grinned. "Her? That's Doctor Laurisse Marchand, from Quebec. She does the same work I do and we've collaborated on a paper we're presenting. She's very happily married with kids and is a few years older than me. She also has a very dominant personality, like me. In other words, not my type so don't even let your mind go there."

Of course, I flushed even more deeply at that, if it was even possible. Just being alone with Drake was enough to make my knees weak.

"Nothing can happen between us, Drake."

He took my hand and pulled me over to the couch. He sat in the middle, and like that first night, he pulled me down onto his lap so that my face was just inches from his.

He tilted his head. "You look absolutely ravishing. I want to ravish you."

"I'm serious. We have to end this. For your own good."

"Tell me how ending this would be for my own good."

"You have to trust me. Someone knows about you. Your kink. They threatened to expose you if we kept seeing each other."

"What?" he said, frowning. "Who?"

I shook my head. "I can't say."

"You can't or won't say?"

"Both."

He exhaled heavily. "Kate, I can't just end 'this' like you seem to think we have to. You're an unanswered question. You're unexplored country and I very much want to explore you. Every single inch of you, inside and out."

That sent a surge of something through me and I felt as if my whole body flushed.

He nuzzled his face into my neck, his mouth warm on the skin beneath my ear. His lips brushed my earlobe when he spoke.

"Unless you can tell me who is threatening you so I can understand it, and agree or not, find a way around it, I am not giving you up. You said you'd sign my agreement last week. I don't think anyone is threatening you. I think you read my limits and you're afraid. What was it that shocked you? Was it vaginal fisting? Anal sex? I told you I put those in specifically so you could strike them off and feel some degree of control."

I glanced away. Those did shock me, to be honest, but I was willing to strike them off the list as he said I could.

"It wasn't that. I'm telling you the truth."

"Then, who is it? Tell me or I won't believe you."

"Drake, I can't" I pulled myself out of his arms and stood, moving away, because sitting on his lap like that, feeling his warmth beneath me, his face so close to me, his mouth on my neck made me dizzy with lust.

He stood and came close to me, and I backed away, but only ended up wedged against the table. He had me cornered.

"Tell me, or I'll keep after you. I won't give up on you, Kate."

"Why not? Barely anything has happened between us. It would be a lot easier to end it now rather than later when we're forced to after you've been disgraced because of my carelessness."

"What about your carelessness?"

I shook my head, dread filling me at the thought of telling him.

"I," I said, fumbling for words, so embarrassed that I was hoping to be a journalist who was supposed to prize informant confidentiality and I was so sloppy with the agreement that Dawn found it. "I left the agreement on my desk and someone found it."

He closed his eyes and exhaled heavily. His lips pressed thin and when he opened his eyes, I had to turn away, so afraid of his anger.

"Who found it?"

"Just someone who doesn’t want me to be with you, OK?"

"Nigel," he said. "It was Nigel, right?"

"No!" I shook my head.

"Don't protect him, Kate. I know he doesn't really approve of me."

"What do you mean? Why wouldn’t he approve of you?"

"Did he force you to stop seeing me? He knows that I'm in the lifestyle." He shook his head and then he seemed to relax. He stroked my cheek, then his fingers fell to my chest and he brushed them against the tops of my breasts. "I can talk to him, assure him that I mean you no harm."

"It wasn't Nigel. Does Nigel know about you?"

"Yes."

"How does he know?"

"I can't tell you how he knows. That's private. He just knows. I thought he was OK with it, but if you're protecting him, you have to let me know. I'll have to speak with him if he's pressuring you."

It was then I realized that Drake must know Nigel through the BDSM community. I didn’t know a lot about Nigel's personal life. I knew he had a long-time partner – an actor who did off-off-Broadway.

"Nigel's kinky?" I said and frowned.

He rubbed his forehead, then ran his fingers through his hair.

"I can neither confirm nor deny that statement," he said, his expression serious. "It's not my place to out people. I take this seriously. Kate, I've known people who've lost their jobs and their lives because of adverse publicity around BDSM. All I can say is that he knows about me. Please, just tell me who's threatening you so we can figure this out."

"I can't and we can't just figure this out. This person will not back down, no matter what. This person is very morally judgmental. And irrational. If they think we're together, they will tell my father about you. Now, you'd better go. This can't happen."

"Who is it?"

"It's someone who doesn’t understand BDSM. They never will. Listen, this is just too much trouble, Drake. Why are you so insistent? "

"Because I want you."

"That doesn't matter."

He sighed, his expression frustrated, his brow furrowed.

"Look, I won't touch you, if you really don't want me to. I promise we'll just talk."

I shook my head. "It's not that I don't want you to touch me. I do, God do I want you to, but you're in danger. Can't you understand?"

His face changed. "So you do want me to touch you," he said, moving even closer. He put his arms around me, slipping them under my arms and pulling me against him so I had to embrace him.

"Drake…"

"Sorry, you said the operative words. I need to finish what I started that night before we were so rudely interrupted by my cell phone alarm."

And then he kissed me, his lips on mine, his mouth opening and his tongue finding mine, his hands all over me, one hand squeezing one cheek of my ass, while the other grabbed a breast a bit roughly, but not too roughly that it hurt.

"Fuck, I need you." He actually pressed me down on the table, knocking the gift basket of fruit and chocolates off so that they fell to the floor and rolled around on the carpet. His mouth trailed down my throat and then he pulled my dress up and off me, throwing it onto the floor beside the fruit. He just took me in, lying on the table dressed only in my little white string bikini, my breasts far too exposed and falling out of the top. "God, you're luscious. I want to eat every inch of you."

My heart pounded in my ears, my body responding to his urgency, my flesh aching in need. He untied my bikini top and pulled it down to expose my breasts entirely.

"You're sunburnt, you bad thing. As your doctor, I must chastise you severely for that."

"If you're my doctor, isn't there some kind of ethical issue with becoming involved with a patient?"

"Fuck ethics," he murmured against my skin. He began kneading my breasts, squeezing them, sucking my nipples one after the other, his tongue circling them, his lips tugging at them. His teeth bit them softly, sending delicious jolts of lust right to my clit.

Of course it was then my father decided to knock on my door.

"Katherine? Are you there? We have reservations for lunch."

I almost gasped out loud, my body tensing for Drake had moved down my belly and he had spread my thighs and was biting me through my bikini bottoms, tonguing my clit through the fabric.

"Drake!" I whispered. He exhaled and rested his forehead on my belly, his mouth still above my pussy.

"Fuck, Ethan," he whispered back. "You have horrible timing." Then he rose up and laid on top of me, grinning. "So close and yet so far."

I couldn’t help but smile back.

"Katie? Are you OK sweetie?" my father said through the door. "We were worried about you." He jiggled the door.

"Katie?" Drake whispered, grinning. "You better answer him. Tell him we'll be right down."

"I'll be right down, Daddy. Give me five minutes, OK?"

"All right, dear. We're waiting."

We held our breaths for a moment and then Drake buried his face between my naked breasts. When he lifted his head, he kissed each nipple.

"Jesus Christ," he said, staring into my eyes. "Am I ever going to get to actually come inside of you?"

"You want to?" I grinned.

"Right now, there is absolutely nothing I want more in this world. An end to poverty? World peace? Human rights for all? No. I want to fuck you until I come inside of you. Bareback."

"We haven't been tested yet…"

"I have been. I'm clean. I'm know you are as well. You told me and I trust you. I want to see my come dripping out of you."

"Drake!"

"Seriously," he said. "You've brought out the animal in me, Kate. We're talking caveman. Warlord claiming territory, plundering." He grinned so wide he started laughing.

"Plundering…"

Then he rose up over me, propping himself on one elbow. He brushed a strand of hair from my cheek and then grazed his fingers over the tops of my breasts and my nipples so that they puckered.

"Once we're alone, once we're finally alone, I'm going to fuck you and come inside your body and I'm not even going to worry about making you come, because you owe me one, remember? After that, I'll bathe you and shave your sweet little pussy, and I'll tie you up and make you come three times. Once with my tongue and mouth. Once with my fingers, and once with my cock."

"Oh, God." I closed my eyes, desire washing over me.

"You like that idea, do you Kate?"

I opened my eyes and his were so intense, his nostrils flaring as he breathed in deeply.

"Yes," I whispered.

"You want me to tie you up and make you come?"

"Yes."

"Yes, what?"

I shook my head, not knowing what he meant. He waited, and then I remembered. Did he want me to say Yes, Master? Or Yes, Sir? Neither one felt right.

"Yes… Sir?" I said, hesitantly.

He closed his eyes and leaned down, pressing his forehead against mine, smiling. "No, no. I want you to say the words." He kissed me, and I could feel his smile against my lips. "Just say what I said. That you want me to tie you up."

"Oh," I said, understanding. He wanted it acknowledged. He wanted me to give him permission. "Yes, please tie me up and make me come, Drake."

"You're not ready for Sir yet," he said, his gaze moving over my face. "You don't feel it yet. But one day you will be ready and you will feel it. And I will enjoy hearing that word come from your sweet lips while you beg me to let you come."

I exhaled, closing my eyes. His words affected me so deeply. I wanted to feel it – that he was Sir.

I wanted it to feel right.

He stood up, running his hands down my inner thighs to my pussy. "Damn. You're so nice and wet. But we better go or Ethan will be back with firefighters to break down the door."

He pulled me up so that I stood in front of him, my head tilted back to look in his eyes. He leaned down and kissed me.

"I like that you're short," he said. "Petite. It brings out the Dom in me."

"I like when the Dom in you comes out."

"Oh, Kate, you ain't seen nothing yet. All you’ve tasted is vanilla ice cream."

I frowned a bit, unsure if he was warning me or trying to entice me.

"Don't frown," he said, stepping closer. "If you like it now, all I mean is that you'll like it even more when we actually play."

I nodded. "I better change," I said and pointed to my room.

"I'll wait, although I feel like I need to go and jerk off in the bathroom to get rid of this," he said, grasping his still-hard cock, taking my hand and placing it over his length. "But I want to save it for you."

I took in a deep breath, my body responding from the feel of him in my hand.

"I wish I could help you with this," I said, my voice a bit quivery.

"You will. Later."

"You know, I still haven't signed anything."

"You will. Later," he said, grinning.

"You're so sure of yourself."

"No, I'm not," he said, pulling me into his arms. "I'm just sure of what I want." He kissed me, tenderly this time. "I want you."

I sighed and pulled reluctantly out of his arms. "I better freshen up…"

I went into the bathroom and brushed my hair, applying a bit of makeup and then I got my bag. Drake was standing at the window, talking quietly on his cell. When he saw me, he motioned me over and pulled me against him.

"Yes, I'll meet you at 1:30. We can review the slides once before 2:00."

Then he ended the call and put his cell away.

"Business?" I asked.

"Just preparing for our presentation this afternoon at the conference. My colleagues and I are presenting the results of a three-year study on pediatric neuro-electrophysiology. Dr. Marchand and I are doing the presentation at 2:00."

I nodded.

 

We went to the dining room where my father and Elaine were seated.

"Look who I ran into on the way over here," I said, pointing to Drake.

My father's face lit up like a floodlight. He stood and started glad-handing Drake, who of course, glad-handed back like they were old buddies.

"Drake, how nice to see you again."

"You can cut the act, Daddy," I said, smiling. "Drake already told me you two conspired to bring me here so I could 'get away from it all'."

My father looked between Drake and me and then laughed in his gravelly voice. "Guilty as charged. I confess."

We sat down and had a very nice meal and all the while, I watched my father and Drake talk about business, about the election, about Drake's presentation, about his plans to go to Africa later in the New Year for a stint as a surgeon, about all of us scuba diving later after his presentation. My father had already organized a training session and then a dive at one of the local tourist traps. Drake was already certified as a diver so he was excited to be going with us and eager to escape the afternoon session after his presentation was done.

It felt surreal to think my father was actively trying to push us together. If he knew Drake was a Dominant and engaged in kinky sex with submissives that he tied up and blindfolded, and that he wanted to do those things to me – and that I wanted him to…

I shuddered for a moment to think of the consequences. And that was the real issue. Not whether I wanted him or he wanted me. That was pretty clear already. This thing between us – this intense sexual attraction – if we indulged in it this weekend, I knew it would be next to impossible for us to end it when we got back to the real world.

It would be a really huge risk for Drake. We'd have to be exceptionally careful that Dawn never found out.

I sighed and put my spoon down, my gut in a knot over this. Drake must have heard my sigh for he reached over and took my hand, squeezing it for a moment, and it was so sweet it made my throat choke up a bit. I glanced at my father and he was smiling to himself, as if pleased to see the show of affection between Drake and me.

If he only knew…