Chapter Five

The moment Bree awoke, she realized Rafe had left the bed, although when she touched the sheets on his side, they were still warm. She lay back against the pillows and closed her eyes. Her thoughts were scattered around in her brain like pebbles rolling down the hill. One thing he’d been right about. Her training with the Master didn’t compare with the feelings aroused in her the night before.

He could have pushed her more. She’d actually been prepared for it. But he seemed to have an innate sense of exactly how far to take her this time and when to stop.

Wait! This time? That implied there’d be another and she wasn’t anywhere near ready to think about that. Besides, she planned to leave the next day and they’d probably never see each other again. Although maybe on her trips to visit the new client, they could get together and—and what, Bree? Pretend they were having some kind of relationship?

It might have been fun to switch roles last night, fun being a very mild word for the intensity of what happened. But they hadn’t really scratched the surface of a D/s relationship. They’d merely played at it. He’d given her a taste of what it would be like to switch roles. With him, at least. But that’s all they’d done. Play. Being a submissive wasn’t her role in life or her lifestyle. And she had a feeling Rafe would be a much more demanding Dom in something more long term.

Rafe’s voice broke into her thoughts, the tone edged with humor. “I can smell your brain burning from here.”

She opened her eyes to see him standing beside the bed, wearing a pair of boxers and holding a mug of steaming coffee.

“Oh!” She took the mug gratefully. “You are a god.”

“I’m glad you noticed.”

“And modest, too.” She sipped the coffee, inhaling its steamy fragrance. The hot liquid coursing through her system woke up the rest of her sleeping nerves. She focused on the act of drinking, hoping he didn’t plan to start “the conversation” yet.

But when he sat down beside her on the bed, he didn’t mention the previous night at all.

“I thought about making breakfast,” he told her, “but there’s a restaurant that overlooks the Guadalupe River that has the kind of atmosphere I think you’d like. And the food is almost as good as the view. They have a terrific Sunday brunch.”

“Sounds great.” She steeled herself for what came next, surprised when he still ignored the elephant in the room.

“Then I thought we’d do a little more sightseeing. Show you some more of the area. You only have the one day left. I wanted to make sure you took a real taste of Texas back with you.” He rubbed his fingers lightly across her exposed tummy. “If there’s something else you’d rather do, though, just tell me and we’ll do it.”

“No, that’s fine.” She lifted her gaze to his, wondering what she’d see and was stunned by the heated lust blazing in his eyes. “Rafe, I—”

“Need to get up and dressed so we can get going.”

“Wait.” Her lack of personal items suddenly occurred to her. “I don’t have any clean clothes with me. Or makeup. Or—”

He touched her lips with two fingers. “I could take you back to the hotel to get them, but you might find an excuse to ditch me. I’d rather take you shopping for something new and by the way, you look gorgeous without makeup.”

“Liar.” She laughed. “Anyway, what’s open at this time of the morning?”

He lifted his cell phone from where he’d left it on the nightstand and showed her the clock. “It’s almost eleven. You nearly slept the morning away.”

“What?” She startled, nearly spilling her coffee. “That’s impossible. I never sleep that late. Ever.”

“Seems to me there’re a lot of things you never do that you might want to re-examine.”

She set the mug carefully on the nightstand. “Maybe now would be a good time to have that talk you mentioned last night.”

“And spoil a beautiful day with serious conversation?” he shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

A knot formed in her stomach. “Will I hate what you have to say?”

“I hope not.” He leaned down and brushed his lips softly over hers. “But like I said, that’s for later. Come on. Out of bed. Throw on yesterday’s clothes and I’ll take you shopping.”

Bree managed to finger comb her hair into submission as she dragged on her day-old clothing. Feeling on the dark side of grungy. No makeup, but she did find the lipstick she carried in her purse. Rafe seemed unconcerned about everything, whistling as he pulled on jeans, a shirt and boots. Taking a cream-colored Stetson from his closet he settled it on his head and turned to where she stood.

“Let’s git.” He reached over and swatted her ass.

Immediately moisture dampened her crotch and her nipples tingled. Oh, lord. She was in big trouble. She needed a serious lesson in control.

She didn’t know what she expected, but certainly not the very cleverly constructed row of log cabin stores in Dripping Springs. At noon when they arrived, the stores were just opening. Marcie, the woman who owned the specialty shop he’d ushered her into, lit up when they walked in.

“Why Rafe Morales. I didn’t think we carried anything in your size. You looking for something frilly?”

“Very funny. Marcie, this is Bree Donovan and she needs to do a little shopping.”

“Then she’s come to the right place. Honey, you can either tell me what you want, or look around and I’ll set up a dressing room for you.”

“Marcie and I have known each other since grade school,” Rafe said. “She’s married to a man nearly as good looking as me.”

“Ha, ha. Ha,” the woman teased. She turned to Bree. “You look to your heart’s content, honey. Let me know when you’re ready.”

Bree was only peripherally aware of Marcie and Rafe carrying on a casual conversation while she browsed the merchandise. The woman carried stylish and good quality merchandise.

Now I sound like a snob. People around here obviously want a convenient place to shop.

As an organized shopper, she didn’t take long to make her selections. The place even carried high end lingerie.

“Don’t forget this.” Rafe plinked a soft blue Stetson on her head. “Got to have one of these in Texas.”

“But I’m only in Texas until tomorrow,” she reminded him, laughing. “What will I do with it in Chicago?”

“Show it off, of course.”

How could she argue with a man who wouldn’t argue back? When she left she had on brand new jeans, a silky soft blouse and new bra and bikini panties that felt like sin against her body. And of course the Stetson. She couldn’t do anything about her makeup, but at least she felt fresh. And her new boots, which had proved more comfortable than she’d expected, finished off the outfit in style and she hoped, took attention away from her naked face.

Rafe tossed the bag with her other clothes in the back seat, then boosted her up in the front.

“Man, shopping really works up an appetite, doesn’t it?”

She couldn’t help laughing. “Even when all you do is watch?”

“Especially then.” He winked and cranked over the engine.

The restaurant turned out to be everything he promised. The dining room with had high ceilings but walls divided the large room into smaller segments. Rafe was right, tough, that the real place to be was on the veranda, overlooking the river. They sat right by the railing and she could hear the water rushing along below them. A soft breeze freshened the air and wild birds sang in the trees on the bank across from them.

The food, too, more than met expectations. Bree ate until stuffed; protesting that she’d consumed enough to keep her going for the next week. Rafe merely gave her a knowing smile.

He had none of the possessive air of a Dom about him today, yet she had the feeling he still maintained control. Always directing and manipulating. Since he did it in such a charming manner, she found it hard to be annoyed.

They spent a lazy afternoon sightseeing. Rafe stopped at a ranch owned by a friend of his, to show her the cutting horses they bred. He explained about their use on a working ranch. They visited another winery, but this time they only did the tasting, no picnic. And they hit other places of interest.

When her stomach began to growl, even after the huge brunch she’d eaten, she checked her watch and realized it was almost seven.

“I hate to put a damper on things,” she said, “but I should get back to my hotel. I need to pack to leave in the morning.”

“What time’s your plane?”

“Noon.”

“Then we have time for dinner first. Come on. You have to taste some good old Texas chili.”

The restaurant, like the shopping area, had a quaint and rustic look. Mouthwatering aromas filled the air. Bree only managed one bowl of chili while Rafe put away two. She tried to protest when he ordered fried ice cream for dessert.

“Fried?” She raised an eyebrow.

“The best kind. Got to have something to cool the heat in your mouth,” he pointed out.

“But fried?”

“Wait until you taste it. We’ll share.”

Which they did, dipping their spoons into the creamy homemade creation. And it didn’t disappoint. Bree savored the taste as the flavor burst on her tongue.

She had decided Rafe changed his mind about discussing the night before, when he pushed the bowl away and leaned toward her, resting his elbows on the table.

“You think before we pack it in you want to tell me what’s got you by the tail? What’s in Chicago that you aren’t all that anxious to get back to?”

Bree stared at him, muscles tensing. No, she didn’t want to tell him. Or anyone else who didn’t already know about it.

“I don’t think so. Anyway, what makes you think that’s the case?”

“Darlin’, I’d like to think it was my incredible sexual magnetism and good looks that swept you off your feet the past two nights, but we both know your shields were down or what happened never would have happened.”

“It’s nothing. It’s over.”

“But I’m the perfect one to chew it over with. We’ll probably never see each other again so whatever you say to me goes in one ear and into the garbage.”

Never see each other again? Why did that give her such a hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach?

“I thought I had a good relationship, but it ended very badly.” Now why did she have to blurt that out? She needed a lock for her mouth.

“I think we’ve all been there, Bree. But this one hit you hard for some reason.”

“It did.” And then her story came tumbling out, like clothes jammed too tightly into a closet. “I’ve always considered myself a good Domme. Caring. Loving, even. Considerate of my subs and respectful. I know I have a controlling aspect to my personality, but that’s a major reason why I’m a Domme.”

“Okay.” He sat quietly, watching her.

“Chad and I were together for a very long time. He even moved into my condo with me. I thought we had the perfect relationship. He wasn’t one for a lot of D/s exposure in public and neither was I. He’s an intelligent man, successful in his own right, and I have enormous respect for that. Or I did. So we kept that aspect of our relationship behind the doors of our home.”

She stopped and fiddled with her water glass.

“And then something happened.” He guessed.

“It did indeed.”

She described in every painful detail, walking into Perfection where she and Chad had agreed to meet that night, only to find him the center of a performance with two other women. When she spoke to the dungeon master about it, he’d simply shrugged and told her Chad had requested it himself and signed the agreement.

“But it got worse.” She began idly shredding the paper napkin. “He didn’t come home that night so I went to find him at his office the next day.”

A scene she’d never forget. Controlling bitch had been among the nicer things he’d said about her.

Rafe remained quiet when she finished, studying his hands. Then he looked up.

“That’s a truly destructive situation,” he told her. “But I have to think the flaw is with him, not you. He gave you his commitment, his submission, everything for all that time. You weren’t a stranger to him when the two of you met. For him to flip out like that?” He shook his head. “No, I’m, guessing the flaw is in him, not you.”

“How can you say that? You hardly even know me.”

“I’ve had to learn how to be a good judge of character,” he said. “In my business you can’t afford to guess wrong about someone. If you do, it can cost you and others a whole bunch of money. And I don’t see any of those things this Chad idiot accused you of.”

“Maybe I’m just good enough to fool you,” she pointed out.

He leaned in even more. “When you strip someone down to the bare essentials, Bree, you know pretty quickly exactly who and what they are. I’m not wrong.” He leaned back in his chair. “But I’ll give you a couple of my observations.”

“Uh, oh.” She forced a smile. “Am I going to hate this?”

“I don’t know. You listen and then tell me.” He paused while the waitress brought their coffee. “I see you as a strong woman with an excellent reputation in her chosen career. One who can be firm without being obnoxious about it. Oh, yeah. I checked you out myself. When Emilio told me you’d asked for an invite, it piqued my curiosity. A high-powered career woman from Chicago coming to a munch here? You bet I was curious.”

“But—”

He held up a hand. “I’m not finished here. A woman who has earned the right to be confidant, but who maybe needs to lean on someone else once in a while. Hand the reins over to a person she can trust. At the munch and last night, you let a different side of you come out to play. Am I right? Did I hit the nail on the head?”

Bree didn’t know what to say. He’d forced her, with a few words and a very calm manner, to reexamine both herself and the situation with Chad. Could he be right? Did she really want the chance, in the right situation, to fall into the role of a sub, even for a little while?

Then he said, “And I’m honored that I’m the one you chose to play with.”

She nibbled her lower lip while she tried to organize her thoughts. “I don’t know how to answer you. I think it might just be the circumstances here. What happened could very well be a once and done.”

He dipped his head. “It might be.”

She gave a nervous little laugh. “Aren’t you even going to argue with me about it?”

“What for? You could be right,” he leaned forward again. “But you might not. Don’t you want to find out?”

She shrugged. “It’s a moot point. I’m going back to Chicago tomorrow and there isn’t a single person there I’d trust to put myself in that situation with. Not one.” She added sweetener to her coffee and stirred it. “And what about you? Have you ever wanted to be in a reverse role? Give over control to another person?”

“Not that I can remember. But maybe I hadn’t found the right person. Someone I’d feel comfortable enough doing it with. And I’m not saying it has to be a permanent thing. But think how great it would be for two people who have such strong feelings for each other, such a huge amount of trust, that they can both be willing to switch now and then.” When she didn’t say anything, he added, “Something for you to think about.”

“Well,” she sighed, “in any event, as far as you and I are concerned, like I said, tomorrow I’m back to the Windy City.”

“You’ll be back,” he reminded her. “For client meetings. And planes fly both ways, you know.”

Her eyes widened. “Are you saying you’re going to fly to Chicago? To see me?”

He lifted a shoulder. “I’m not saying anything, merely stating a fact.” He lifted a hand to signal for the waitress. “Meanwhile that coffee’s ice cold by now and more bitter than a witch’s brew, and I need to get you back to your hotel. Make sure you get a good night’s sleep.”

Oh yeah? I think you just made sure I wouldn’t.

* * *

“Don’t forget your hat.” Rafe reached into the back seat of the truck and took out the Stetson, along with her bag of yesterday’s clothes. “I’d say it fits you pretty damn well.”

She grinned at him. “Is that what I should tell my boss when I wear it to work tomorrow?”

“Whatever works. He might actually get a kick out of it.”

He walked her across the street, carefully watching for traffic, and into the hotel lobby. At the elevator she stopped and turned to him.

“I’d ask you up to my room, but—”

“But you’d rather just keep the memories of the past two nights and so would I.” He tugged on the brim of her Stetson. “Don’t forget to keep wearing that hat.”

“Okay.”

“Time to get ready for Christmas,” he reminded her.

“Are you kidding?” She arched an eyebrow. “I’m the Grinch this year, remember? Bah, humbug and all that. No Christmas cheer for me.”

“That’s no way to get ready for the holidays. What if someone gives you a really great present, all tied up with a bow on it? Something to cheer you up?”

“It could be tied up six ways from Sunday, and it wouldn’t matter,” she assured him. “I’m done with all that. If I could avoid the parties where I have to make an obligatory appearance, I’d do that, too. Believe me, I’m in no mood to drink a toast to people who have very little meaning in my life. And I’m definitely not ready to attend any of the functions at Perfection or with the people I usually hang with.”

“Come on, now,” he protested. “You must at least have a friend you can console yourself with. What is it women like to do? Oh, yeah. Put on old PJs and watch chick flicks while drinking wine and eating popcorn.”

She threw back her head and laughed, the sound going straight to his balls. “Been spending a lot of time with weepy women, have you?”

“No, but I listen to gossip.” He grinned. “Most men do.”

“You’re not most men, and I don’t hang out like that.”

A look of sadness crossed her face, and he wondered if it meant she had no one close to her that she could do those things with. That in itself was a sad fact. It should have jumped out at him when he Google-stalked her, that every single thing he found had been business-related. Even on the private BDSM loops in the Chicago area, he could dig up very little personal information about her, other than her profile as a Domme. There had been absolutely nothing that gave him a clue about her personally, and that should have been a clue in itself.

Maybe all of that caused that quick flash of sadness she’d quickly concealed. It made him want to fix whatever pain she felt, and that wasn’t like him at all.

“I’d ask if my makeup was smeared,” she said, interrupting his thoughts. “Except I’m not wearing any.”

He smiled, wanting to make her smile back in return.

“No. Taking a last look here. That’s all.”

And then, because he couldn’t help himself, he took her in his arms and gave her a kiss that would keep him warm in a lonely bed tonight. His hands were firm where they gripped her shoulders, pulling her tight against him so she could feel the hardness and thickness of his shaft. His tongue danced over the plump surface of her lips and he sucked hard at her warm, moist mouth that tasted of seductive sweetness. He ate at it and drank from her like a man who’d never get food or water again.

When he let her go it turned out to be one of the hardest things he’d ever done.

She walked into the elevator and turned so she could look at him. As the doors slid closed, she lifted a hand and blew him a kiss.

Gone.

He walked slowly back to his truck, for once in no hurry to return to his empty house.

The November night was typically Texas cool, but Rafe lowered the windows so he could catch a breeze as he drove. Maybe the wind would blow the cobwebs out of his mind and help him think clearly. Because the thoughts currently running around in his brain didn’t line up with his usual thinking at all.

Friday night at the munch, the allure of Bree Donovan had been almost purely sexual. Almost, because he sensed she kept a shield around herself. And she had been in the company of virtual strangers, trying to be on her best behavior. He didn’t miss the unspoken sexual chemistry that blazed between them from the moment he greeted her at the edge of the patio. He saw in her eyes at once that she felt it as much as he did.

He almost lost her when he thought she wouldn’t stay for the performance. But then she did, and he couldn’t help himself, couldn’t keep from touching her. Whispering in her ear. Rubbing her cunt through her jeans until a small orgasm ripped through her. For some reason she hadn’t stopped him, and a connection forged, whether she wanted to acknowledge it or not.

He wasn’t the only one who had enjoyed the past two days. Or every minute of last night. He’d pushed her boundaries because he’d sensed that latent, well-hidden need in her to turn the tables sexually, even for one night. It had been worth every minute, not just for him, but for her also. It astonished him that at his age and with all of his experience, the orgasm he’d had with her had been more intense than anything he could remember in a long time.

God, simply remembering the feel of that hot, tight pussy gripping him like a wet fist made him hard again. Holding back until the last possible moment had tested his self-control to its limits. But the orgasm, when he came with her, nearly blew off the top of his head. It had taken several long moments for him to gather himself enough to get off the bed, dispose of the condom and prepare to give her the aftercare she so richly deserved.

Even now, as he drove out of the city to the quieter area of the outskirts, aware she’d leave in the morning, he wanted her as fiercely as he had before. It took all his self-control not to turn around and head back to the hotel. Bang on her door to let him in. Strip off her clothes and spank that beautiful ass until it turned redder than Santa’s suit. Handcuff her to the bed so she was completely helpless and then fuck her blind.

Jesus!

He reached between his thighs and pressed his palm against his swelling cock and aching balls. If he didn’t stop this he’d be a mess by the time he got home.

Not that he hadn’t been strongly attracted to other women or had long term relationships. Of course he had. But long term was a relative description. Bree had been with this Chad idiot for years, not months, the way he measured time in his relationships. But even as he’d settled into a routine with a sub, he had never seen it as anything permanent. He liked his space. His privacy. The freedom to do as he pleased. And he always made that very clear. There would be both a beginning and an end. Eventually, he’d move on.

Yet with Bree, if they ever got together like that, while he could clearly see a beginning, there didn’t seem to be an end in sight. He saw infinite possibilities. All the elements that would comprise their relationship, jumped into his mind. He easily imagined waking up in bed with her every morning and going to sleep with her at night. Spending lazy weekends doing absolutely nothing, and intense nights with her restrained and punished in every conceivable way.

He had studied Shibari under one of the Doms in their group, although he’d used it rarely. Still, in his mind he saw Bree in one of her professional outfits, going to work, meeting with clients, her boss, friends. And beneath that clothing an intricately wound Shibari pattern with a knot tightly pressed against her clit. When she walked it would rub against the sensitive bundle of tissue, and when she sat it would press against it just enough to keep her constantly wet and aroused.

He wanted her to wear a butt plug as she went about her business, the fullness of it stretching her so when he took her at night he could easily plunge his cock into her ass. Or maybe he’d slide a vibrator into that sweet pussy on a day they were out doing errands together. Whenever the spirit moved him he could press a remote he’d have hidden in his pocket and he’d see a violent shiver race over her as she tried to control her response.

Stop it, you asshole. Don’t do this to yourself or you’ll be like some horny teenager jacking off in your truck. And how would that look if someone happened to see you?

Besides, tomorrow she’d be gone. To her home and her life hundreds of miles and an entire culture away. Call him when she came back to town again? By then she probably wouldn’t even remember his name or the incredible weekend they’d spent together. Maybe. Or maybe not.

And when it came down to it, she was still a Domme. Always would be. A Mistress, just as he would always be a Master. But she had enjoyed switching roles with him. Could it even be possible for him to do the same thing with her? How could it ever work with two such strong personalities always battling for control?

Although, he supposed if a person wanted something badly enough, they could always find a solution. Still….

He thought back over all the relationships he’d had, both the ones that were purely for playtime and those that had extended for weeks and months. He realized now something had always been missing. That took nothing away from the subs. They excited him, appealed to him and suited their role perfectly. But he always lost interest, with some more quickly than others. Did all those relationships have a missing element, the one he hadn’t realized he’d needed?

Everything with Bree had been sharper, better, more arousing and exciting. Even watching her shop for clothes, or squeal with delight at the sight of the deer on his property. Or the fact that even as she submitted to him, she’d challenged him. Was that what he’d been looking for—the essential ingredient that had always been missing?

By the time he drove up to his house and pulled into the garage he was mentally exhausted. He needed a stiff drink and a cold shower, and a good night’s sleep to put everything behind him. Oh, and he’d better change the sheets, too, so he didn’t act like some besotted idiot, hugging the pillows to inhale the last traces of her scent.

Shit, Morales. You’ve got it bad.

What the hell could he do about it?

Maybe instead of keeping himself in a perpetual state of arousal with the erotic fantasies he let run wild through his head, he could refocus his brain and see if he could find an answer to his dilemma.

* * *

Bree thought for sure when the plane finally landed in Chicago, she would have put Texas behind her. She’d deliberately packed her clothes from the weekend and had worn simple slacks and a sweater, her usual casual attire in the city. Even her boots went into the suitcase, but she had no place to put the damn hat. Deliberately ignoring the stares of almost everyone she passed, she pretended she wore it all the time and no one dared to comment.

But its very presence on her head reminded her of Rafe, a memory she needed to scrub from her brain if she intended to get on with her life, which she certainly had every intention of doing. She’d taken a little detour, that was all. And enjoyed it far more than she would have expected. But being with a Dom on a regular basis? How would she suppress her own need for control? To be the one in charge?

Her head ached with all the questions to which she had no answers. Even two cocktails on the flight did nothing to ease the tight knot she’d tied herself into. She embraced the familiarity of Midway Airport, the crowds and the bustle, even the rude people who pushed and shoved to get close to the baggage carousel and then fought with each other for taxis.

Finally in her condo, she wheeled her luggage into her bedroom to unpack, tossed her jacket onto the bed and automatically reached up to run her fingers through her hair, a nervous habit that only came out when she tried to solve a problem.

And encountered the hat, still sitting firmly on her head.

Bet that gave the folks in the airport a chuckle.

She lifted it off and placed it on the dresser. How had he talked her into buying it? A ridiculous, frivolous, unnecessary luxury. When would she ever wear it again? It would just sit there as a reminder of a wild, erotic weekend she’d spent with a man who aroused her by merely touching her.

Unpacking always bored her, so she disposed of it as quickly as possible, tossing the dirty laundry into the hamper, other items into the basket for the cleaners. When she got to the soft blue boots she held them to her chest for a moment, remembering Rafe’s disdain for what he’d finally called her urban dweller boots and the smile on his face when he saw these on her feet for the first time.

Rafe.

God. How would she ever get him out of her mind? His larger than life presence remained constant, even when he lived several states away. When his image shimmered in her head, she couldn’t even remember what any of her subs looked like. How pathetic.

She stood a long time under the shower, hoping the hot water would wash away not only the vestiges of Rafe’s touch, but also the memories of the weekend. Pulling on her nightshirt, she spent time brushing her hair, something that usually soothed her and eased any strain from a day. No such luck tonight. Her brain whirled with thoughts best forgotten. In the bedroom she turned on her iPad and brought up a new book she’d bought, but hadn’t started yet. Maybe a good story would settle her, but after ten minutes she realized she’d moved no further than the first page.

She couldn’t seem to move past the deep internal ache for a man meant to be nothing more than a diversion. Being controlled by something other than pure reason had been so seductive, she’d forgotten to hold herself back, to discipline her reactions. Rafe had stripped all that away, and she’d loved every minute of it.

But now what? Where did she go from here, now that he’d turned her desires and every image she had of herself upside down?

Finally, aware she’d need more than good intentions to get a decent night’s sleep, she poured herself a double shot of Jack Daniel’s Black, tossed it down and pulled the covers over her head.

Go away, Rafe. I need to get back to my life.

During the night snow had fallen, covering the drifts already lining the sidewalks as a result of the plows clearing the streets. In its virgin appearance, it looked clean and sparkling, covering the inevitable dirt from the city embedded one layer below the surface. Bree inhaled, taking in a lungful of sharp, cold Illinois air. It startled her that it didn’t stimulate her the way it always did. As a city girl, born and bred, she’d thrived on every bit of it, even the dirt from the particles in the air that settled on everything.

Why did she suddenly long for the scent of mountain cedar, honeysuckle and horseflesh?

Enough. Focus on something else.

But as she waited for a free taxi to pull to the curb, she realized the other key element of the atmosphere—the sickening abundance of Christmas decorations. Artificial boughs of greenery wound around streetlights, decorated with red bows. The Salvation Army, with its members dressed in their signature Santa suits, rang bells and cried “Merry Christmas.”

Merry Christmas, shit. Bah humbug was more like it.

As she climbed into the cab to head for her office, she made a major effort to blank it all from her thoughts.

During the two days she’d spent with Rafe, she kept her cell phone on vibrate, surreptitiously checking it now and then for anything urgent she needed to attend to. But she’d already had a lengthy discussion with Jesse after the client meetings, letting him know the contracts had been signed, the project had a thumbs-up from all parties concerned, and she’d put a schedule together once she arrived in town. All the rest of the voice mails and text messages she’d just deleted, in no mood to listen to people tell her how sorry they were about what happened with Chad. Or ask her how in hell it had happened at all. And what did she intend to do about it?

Gossip traveled fast in her circle of friends from Persuasion, and if that wouldn’t be bad enough, she knew people who didn’t even understand it, were still gossiping about the scene when she’d confronted Chad at work the next day. At least it hadn’t invaded her own workplace, then Jesse would have asked her about it. He never minced words about anything.

The cab ride took longer than usual, the streets crowded with traffic as the holiday approached, visitors to the city jaywalking and making it even worse. And even inside the cab she could hear the sound of that damn Christmas music. Maybe she could get a set of earplugs?

She squeezed into a jammed elevator car and rode it up to the tenth floor of her office building. Inside Cascade Designs, people scurried everywhere, and cell phones seemed to be chiming from every corner. She’d grown used to the bustle of the place. With twelve architects and ten draftsmen, not to mention all the support staff, Cascade stayed busy, 24/7. But this seemed to outdo everything.

She stopped at the reception desk to pick up her messages. Naomi, who had been with the firm since Jesse moved it to Chicago, handed her a thick stack of pink slips.

“Welcome back. I know what you’ll be doing today.”

Bree took the slips and grimaced. “No kidding.” Then she did a double take as she looked at the headband Naomi wore, fluorescent red with blinking lights. “What is that thing on your head and why are you wearing it?”

“Isn’t it neat?” Naomi grinned. “Mr. Grier said we should decorate everything for Christmas this year, even ourselves.”

Bree looked around, startled to realize that the usually sedate tree found in a corner of the reception area, had been replaced by one that reached the ceiling. Ornaments loaded the branches, hiding any greenery. Wreaths hung on the wall of the spacious area and wait, more of the damn Christmas music played from somewhere. Shit. Had the world lost its collective mind?

“Why this year?” she asked, curious. “I mean, Christmas is Christmas, right?”

“Well, sure. But he sent around an email that we’d had a banner year. The partners were over the moon about the projects, and the client list and—” She leaned forward, trying to get closer to Bree. “There’s a rumor that the associates like you might be getting big bonuses. But you didn’t hear it from me.” She clamped her hand over her mouth and shook her head. “Not one word.”

Even that didn’t seem to change Bree’s feelings.

“Oh. Yeah. Great.” She frowned. “Merry Christmas and all that.”

“Come on, Bree,” Naomi dimpled. “Get with the spirit of the holidays.”

But Bree just waved the hand holding the slips at her and made her way down the hall to her office. Breathing a sigh of relief, she firmly closed the door, set her briefcase beside her desk and her portfolio on her drafting table. She glanced around, stuck her purse in her drawer, hung up her coat, and tried to decide if she dared ask someone to get her coffee so she didn’t have to brave the break room, certain it too, had been overrun with disgusting holiday decorations.

Dropping into her chair she tried to figure out how she’d get through the next few weeks without losing it and cussing people out at the annual office party. Or any of the other events she might be scheduled to attend. She wondered if she could get out of some of them. Many of them. Most of them.

An image of Rafe popped into her head, lying naked beneath a Christmas tree with a jingle bell tied to his cock. Instantly her panties dampened and her nipples tightened.

Damn!

He wouldn’t be under her tree and she didn’t want to imagine him under anyone else’s.

She wondered if Emilio would be hosting a Christmas munch, and if there would be a special performance again.

No, no, no. She leaned her elbows on her desk and rubbed her temples. She had to stop torturing herself this way. As she debated the evils of going for coffee, a knock sounded on her door. Before she could answer, the door opened and Jesse Grier stepped into her office.

At fifty-five he had reached the top of his game as an architect. The walls of the conference room were lined with awards for both himself and the agency. A little thicker through the middle than he’d been, a little more gray peppering his hair, a few more lines carved into his face, but still in damn good shape. Acknowledged as outstanding in the industry, he was also the kind of boss that the people who worked for him, raved about. Jesse knew all about people, a trait that along with his talent, helped build their impressive client list.

“Hi!” She gestured toward one of the chairs opposite the desk. “You didn’t have to come here yourself. You could have had me buzzed. I was coming to your office in a few anyway.”

“You know me.” He winked. “I never stand on ceremony. And I’m not into summoning people unless I have bad news to give them.” He sat down opposite her. “So. We can mark the trip to Austin as a huge success.”

“That’s a big fat yes. Although we’ve already touched base on that, I planned to ask for some time with you later today to discuss the schedule for getting the designs completed. Also find out what else you think might be involved as we move forward.”

“The client called me personally to thank me for sending you to them. He’s beyond delighted that you knew exactly what he wanted. That you’d researched what would be needed for the designs and were as excited about the project as he and his partners are.”

“They’re very nice to work with, Jesse. But you know me. I approach all my projects that way.”

He dipped his head in acknowledgement. “I do. You always go the extra mile. Anyway, I think we’re going to be getting a lot more work coming our way from them. He said he’s referring several of his friends to us.”

Bree cocked an eyebrow. “Don’t they have enough architects in Texas?”

“Sure, but apparently none of those people ever connected with them the way they did with you. And they are especially impressed with how hard you work to understand what the client’s vision is and deliver it. So.” He studied her face. “Think you might enjoy traveling to Texas on a regular basis?”

Her heart did a little somersault. Go to Texas again? Often?

Rafe!

No, no, no. By the time she got there again he’d no doubt be involved with someone new. This had been as much a lark for him as it had been for her. No way would he be available. Or even willing for a return engagement.

“Something wrong?” A look of concern washed over Jesse’s face. “I thought that would appeal to you. In fact, that you’d be thrilled. When we spoke after the client meetings, you were excited about the job and the area.”

“I am. I am.” She assured him. “No, no problem at all.” She swallowed. “And I am definitely thrilled.” She found a smile from somewhere. “And Jesse? I want to thank you so much for this terrific opportunity. I really appreciate it.”

“You earned it, kiddo. You’re one of my best.” He pushed himself out of his chair. “Call my secretary and have her schedule some time with me this afternoon. I’m anxious to see what you’re putting together.” At the doorway he paused. “And don’t forget the office Christmas party is this Saturday.”

Damn!

He always scheduled it early in the month so the architects working for him had time for their client parties later on. She just wasn’t ready to be full of good cheer right now.”

However.

“I’ll be there,” she assured him.”

“Same place as last year. Everyone seemed to like it.”

Then he walked away.

Bree dropped her head into her hands. If only a fairy godmother would show up and whisk her away until January 2nd.

 

Somehow she made it through the week, although it took every ounce of discipline and control she could muster. She worked on the Texas project, ruthlessly wiping Rafe from her mind. Her phone calls with friends were brief. She pleaded work, and they seemed to understand, although she could tell some of them were dying to share gossip with her.

She even managed to push the disaster with Chad to the back of her mind, until fate stepped in and threw her a curve. Jesse asked her to sit in on a meeting for a colleague out with the flu. Normally she didn’t mind. Was happy to. But this one happened to be in the office building where Chad worked. She had no good reason to refuse so she crossed her fingers and prayed that in a building that big, and with all the people who worked there, they wouldn’t run into each other.

She actually made it in and out unscathed. No Chad. No one giving her a hard time. Then, before hailing a cab to get back to her office, she stopped at a Starbucks a few doors down. As she paid the barista, a hand settled on her shoulder. She jerked, startled, and turned to find Chad staring at her with his skate-gray eyes.

“Hello, Bree.”

His low voice shot arrows through her, pain stabbing at her everywhere. If she’d had her latte in her hand she would have dumped it all over him. Instead she drew in a breath and dipped her head in a nod.

“Chad.”

She tried to move past him but he took her elbow in a firm grip and guided her to a place at the end of the coffee bar.

“I really don’t have a minute to spare,” she told him, hoping her coffee would show up in the ready section immediately. “I’m on a tight schedule.”

“I saw you in our building and I waited in the lobby, hoping to catch you. But this is better. We can sit in the corner over there and talk privately.”

She stared at him. “Privately? Chad, I don’t have a damn thing to say to you, private or otherwise.” She tried to push past him but he stood immovable.”

“I made a bad mistake, Bree. A really bad one.” He raked his fingers through his perfectly razor cut hair. “I wanted to call you a hundred times but I kept losing my courage.”

She glared at him. “You had plenty of courage when it came to humiliating me at Perfection and in your office. We’re done. Get out of my way.”

“Please.” The pleading look she was so familiar with came into his eyes. “Five minutes. That’s all I ask.”

“Not five seconds. You said you made a mistake? Damn straight you did. Now live with it. I don’t want anything to do with you ever again.” She realized, with startling clarity, that she meant exactly that. She felt no attraction for the man any longer. One of the baristas set the cup with her name on it atop the counter and she reached for it. “Now if you’ll excuse me I have to catch a cab.”

Somehow she forced her way past him, but he followed her out to the sidewalk.

“Bree,” he began again.

At her signal a cab pulled into the curb. With the door open she turned to Chad. “Here’s a hint for the future. Don’t betray people. The reputation clings to you like stink on a skunk. Even if I wanted to start up again, I could never trust you. And in our lifestyle, when trust is gone, there’s nothing left.”

She climbed into the back seat, slammed the door and gave the driver the address of her building. As she sipped her latte, she realized again how good she felt. She’d imagined the scene so many times in her mind. It stunned her to realize that the last vestiges of rage were gone. The last feeling of betrayal. Seeing Chad and realizing she felt absolutely nothing for him any more gave her a sense of freedom.

Smiling to herself, she sat back and took another swallow of her drink.

If only I could find the answers to the situation with Rafe as easily.

* * *

Saturday night arrived, and it brought with it, all the enjoyment of a plague. The last thing Bree wanted to do was dress up, mingle with people and pretend to be joyous and merry. She didn’t know if she’d ever get the Christmas spirit back but it certainly wouldn’t be this year. As a work obligation, she’d honor it.

Pulling on a simple black dress, she tucked her hair into a basic twist, applied minimal makeup and slipped into a pair of black open-toed pumps. She looked at herself in the mirror.

Basic and simple. It will do. And I’ll get out of there as soon as I can.

She glanced at the blue Stetson, still in the same place she’d left it on her dresser.

Don’t think about him.

With great deliberation she grabbed her coat and purse. She’d ordered a case of wine from a nearby wine shop. Tomorrow she’d put each bottle in a velvet wine bag with a big bow, attach a card, and over the course of the next two weeks, deliver them to clients. It made her life easier doing it this way, at home, rather than having the wine shop do it for her. She liked to take her time over each message.

Of course she hadn’t had a chance to do it until that morning and when she asked to have it delivered, they reminded that it was Saturday and it might be late. Maybe not until after the store closed. No problem. Her building had a doorman on the weekends. She’d have him let the delivery person in and stash the case in her kitchen.

Okay. Time to get this over with.

The party progressed as she’d expected. Everyone except her, in the holiday spirit, drinking a little too much, laughing a little too loudly. No ass pinching or anything like that, though. Jesse Grier ran his parties as he did his firm—with respect and decorum. But after an hour Bree felt her face cracking from the forced smile and tired from trying to explain why this year she had no plans for the holidays.

What if I just got on a plane to Austin, rented a car and showed up at Rafe’s? Would he be happy to see me? Have someone else there he was entertaining?

What a farfetched idea. She didn’t even know why she entertained it. Rafe Morales had been a hot interlude in her life, spicy because of the twist to it, but over and done with. She needed to move forward. Somehow.

She made her polite goodbyes to everyone and thanked Jesse. As he shook her hand he pulled her close enough to whisper in her ear.

“Big bonus, Bree. You’ll get it next week. And the partners and I are thinking of opening an office in Austin. Would you consider a move, with all the business coming our way?”

Butterflies did the jitterbug in her stomach and her heart leapt into her throat. Move to Austin? Could it be a sign?

“We’ll discuss it after the holidays,” he told her. “Now go home and get some well-deserved rest.”

The idea tumbled around in her brain during the cab ride back to her building. How could she move to Austin and not see Rafe? How could she move to Austin and be with Rafe? Would he even want her? Was she ready for the kind of relationship she knew they would have?

She’d exhausted her brain by the time she finally climbed out of the cab.

“Evening, Miss Donovan.” Greg, the doorman, opened the door of the cab for her, then ushered her into the lobby. “Your package arrived. It’s waiting for you in your condo.”

She wondered at the odd grin he gave her but thanked him and gave him a tip. More than usual, her one nod toward the Christmas season.

Riding up in the elevator she slipped off her shoes and coat, breathing a sigh of relief. Now, she could lock herself up for the rest of the weekend. The case of wine sat in her foyer, waiting for her to fiddle with tomorrow. She hurried to the bedroom, anxious to strip out of the rest of her clothing.

And stopped in the doorway, so stunned she couldn’t move.

The covers on her bed had been turned back and lying in the center, naked, with handcuffs dangling from one wrist and decorated with red ribbons, was Rafe Morales. Red silk ropes were looped around each ankle, the ends hanging and waiting to be secured wherever she chose. And he’d tied a thoughtful bow around his very swollen, very rigid cock. The trailing ends twisted around each of his thighs.

And resting on his head—her blue Stetson.

She dropped her shoes, purse and coat on the floor, frozen in place. Unable to find two words to put together. Shock immobilized her. Finally she found her voice, although when she spoke, it didn’t sound like her.

“Rafe?”

He grinned. “You remember my name.”

“I—of course, But—I mean, what are you doing here?”

“What do you mean? I’m your Christmas present. All tied up in red ribbon for you.”

She swallowed, trying to moisten her very dry mouth. “But why? I mean—and how? What—? The doorman grinned when he said my package waited for me, but—”

“After I proved to him I wasn’t a stalker, a big tip convinced him to be a co-conspirator in my little plan. I think you’d better come closer and I’ll explain.” With his free hand he patted the bed next to him.

Bree walked over on unsteady legs. “Are you real?”

His rich, hearty laugh, rolled from his mouth. “Come touch me and find out.”

She reached out a tentative hand and brushed his thigh. The heat of his flesh nearly burned her hand. Oh, yeah. He was real.

“I-I don’t understand.”

“Simple. I spent a lot of time thinking about us and that weekend after you left. That’s not like me. I move on too easily. But I finally understood why. What had been missing from all my other relationships. The intrigue of switching places with you, watching you, a strong Domme, submit to me, and then realizing I could do the same.” He reached for her hand, the handcuffs bumping against her. “I want what we can have, Bree. I think you do, too, if you’ll open your mind and admit it. Give us a chance. We can always work out the geography.”

She managed to draw a calming breath. “My boss says we’re getting a lot of business from your area. That he might want to open an office there.”

“A sign,” he told her. “We are meant to be. And here I am all tied up for Christmas for you. Tell me we can be tied up together.”

“It might not be so easy,” she pointed out.

“Easy is overrated. Come on, Bree. Take the leap.”

“Yes.” The word jumped out before she realized it. “Yes, yes, yes.” She climbed onto the bed with him and wrapped her hand around his beribboned cock. “And to celebrate, this time I get to be in charge. And on top.”

He held up his wrist with the cuffs. “Already waiting for you, darlin’. All you have to do is tie me up and celebrate. I’ll be your present for Christmas and forever.”