Charlotte laid her head on Mike’s shoulder as he cuddled her closer to his side. Absentmindedly, he stroked her bare back with his fingers. She returned the favor by making small, sensual circles with her hand over his chest. He let the silence hang in the air for a few moments, working up the courage to ask her the question that had been on the tip of his tongue for the past week.

“You’re thinking too much, Michael.” Her warm breath caressed his neck as she spoke. “What’s on your mind?”

It still surprised him how in tune she seemed to be when it came to his moods or emotions. “Can I ask you something?”

Rising up on her forearm, she looked him in the eye. “Don’t ever feel you need my permission to ask me anything if we’re not scening. If I can answer it, I will. Maybe not right away, but never be afraid to ask.” She returned to her original position. “Now, what’s your question?”

Mike opened and closed his mouth twice before the words finally came out. “Why are you in the lifestyle? What do you get out of it? I read that many people are just wired that way, but I get the feeling it’s a lot more than that for you. Something happened in your past that made you seek it out, didn’t it?”

Seconds ticked by, and he thought she wasn’t going to answer. Her fingers had started making those lazy swirls in his chest hair again. “You’re the first submissive who’s ever asked me that.” She turned her head slightly and placed a kiss on his collarbone, before resting her head on his shoulder again. “Growing up, I lived in this great neighborhood in New Jersey. We were close enough to New York City to experience all the fun stuff to do there, but far enough into the suburbs that we could play in the street, without worrying about traffic, and stay out after dark as long as it wasn’t a school night. We had block parties every summer, and in the winter, there was a pond between our backyard and a park, that would freeze over for ice skating. It was very idyllic. At least it was for a while. Everything was great until my thirteenth birthday.”

She paused, and after several long moments, he asked, “What happened on your thirteenth birthday?”

“Everything changed.” She hesitated again before continuing. It was the first time he’d ever heard her sound less than confident. “Maggie O’Connor had been my best friend since we were about five years old. She lived six houses down, and you could always find us at either her house or mine. Our moms were good friends; they were both nurses in the maternity ward at the local hospital on the 3-11 p.m. shift. Her father was a dispatcher for the police department and worked mostly overnights, so he wasn’t around much during the day unless he had the night off.

“When we started junior high school, I didn’t see Maggie as much because we were in different classes. I was kind of hurt, thinking she was avoiding me or leaving me out of things. My mom tried to explain that as kids get older, and their circle of friends widens, sometimes they grow apart from the ones they’d been close to. Maggie and I still saw each other, but she’d changed—she was quieter, didn’t want to do things we’d always done, stuff like that. For my thirteenth birthday, Mom suggested I have a slumber party that Saturday night and invite Maggie and a bunch of my other friends, new and old, so they could all get to know one another better. The night of my party, we had everything all set up in the finished basement of my house—snacks, movies, music, and games. My dad took my brothers out for dinner and a movie, so they wouldn’t bother us. Around eight o’clock, I noticed Maggie still wasn’t there. My mom called their house, and Maggie’s dad said she wasn’t feeling well and wasn’t coming to the party. I remember being so pissed at her and when a few of the other girls started being stuck-up bitches and making fun of her I joined in.” Charlotte took a shuddering breath and let it out slowly. “It wasn’t my finest hour.”

Her fingers had stopped moving at some point and now rested flat over his sternum. Mike brought his free hand up and set it atop hers, amazed at how much smaller it was against his own. One would think her petite stature would mean she was fragile, but instead she was the complete opposite—and damn if that didn’t turn him on for some obscure reason. “Most kids are like that at that age.”

“I know—peer pressure and puberty are a crappy combination. Still doesn’t make it any easier to remember how selfish and bitchy I was at the time. Anyway, I didn’t see Maggie on Sunday. She didn’t call me, and I was still pissed so I didn’t call her. The next day, she wasn’t at the bus stop, and I started to think that maybe she really was sick. Then in the middle of fourth period, I got called to the principal’s office. My mom and dad were there with two detectives.”

“Shit,” Mike murmured into her hair. He could only imagine what the rest of the story was, but there was no way it was going to be good.

Charlotte let out a sad, little snort. “Exactly. They asked me all sorts of questions about Maggie, wanting to know if she’d told me any secrets over those last few months. Turns out her bastard father had started molesting her about five or six months earlier. The last time was the day after my birthday party. Her mom had taken an overtime shift at the hospital. When she got home just after 11:00 p.m., Maggie was in her bedroom, presumably asleep, and her husband left for his midnight shift at work as if nothing had happened. When Mrs. O’Connor got up the next morning, she thought Maggie had already gone to school, but later, when she went to put away some laundry, she found Maggie had hanged herself in the bedroom closet during the night. Mrs. O’Connor called 9-1-1 and a bunch of the cops and detectives arrived at the house—one of them had driven the bastard home because he was putting on this act that he was shocked his daughter had committed suicide. In reality, he was probably worried they were going to find out he’d been raping her. When one of the detectives found a note Maggie had left, apologizing to her mother and detailing what her father had been doing to her, he confronted the bastard. O’Connor knew he was fucked, pulled out a gun, and shot himself in the head before anyone could react.”

Pushing herself up into a sitting position, she swung her leg over his torso and straddled his hips, her pussy hot against his swelling cock. Damn, he’d never get enough of her. He rested his hands on her knees, knowing waiting for her to give him an order would be worth it. The anticipation of not knowing what was coming next or when was a helluva turn on.

Leaning down, she brushed her lips across his. “So, that’s my sordid story. The one that helped mold me into the woman I am today. After I’d learned why Maggie had killed herself, I swore no man would ever touch me without my consent.” She rocked her pelvis against his, causing him to groan, and his eyes to roll back in his head for a moment. “Maybe it was a combination of nature, nurture, and experience, but when I found the lifestyle, I knew it was for me. It gave me the control I needed. But it goes beyond that too. Dominants need to feel needed. Submissives need to feel wanted. The submissives at the club have needs I can take care of—without sex. I’ve had many D/s relationships over the years that didn’t involve sex, or dating, or anything other than making sure they got what they needed. For some it involved the whip. With others, it was simply ordering them to do certain tasks.”

Wrapping her hands around his wrists, she pinned them to the bed. They both knew she couldn’t physically prevent him from escaping. But she had other ways of restraining him. One look at her beautiful eyes told him the commanding Domme was back, her painful trip down memory lane was over, and playtime had begun again. “Grab hold of the headboard, subbie. Be a good boy—don’t let go and you’ll be rewarded.”

Hell, yeah!

* * *

A cell phone ringing pulled Charlotte from the deep sleep she’d been in. Beside her, Mike reached over to the night stand on his side of the bed and silenced the loud noise before glancing at the screen. A blue glow reflected off his face as he read the caller ID. “Shit! My mother’s neighbor.”

He punched the answer button as Charlotte came fully awake and sat up. She remained silent as he answered the call, concern filling his eyes. “Hello? Linda? What’s wrong?” There was a pause, then a look of fear crossed his face. “A fire? Where—”

The woman must have cut him off. He listened as he flung the covers off his naked body and stood, snatching his neatly folded clothes from where he’d placed them atop of the hope chest. On the other side of the bed, Charlotte did the same and quickly got dressed.

“You’re sure she’s okay . . . all right, I’m on my way . . . and, Linda? Thank you.” Disconnecting the call, he dropped the phone on the bed, grabbed his pants, and pulled them on. “She’s with Linda. There’s a fire in her kitchen, and the fire department is on the way. That’s all I know. I have to go. Linda’s calling Jake next.”

In his frantic state, he clearly didn’t realize she was coming with him. “I’ll drive. You’re in no shape to.”

She’d half expected him to argue with her, but he nodded as he sat down on the bed and pulled on his sneakers. “Thanks.”

Less than ten minutes later, Charlotte steered her SUV onto the street Mike had grown up on, although she couldn’t park anywhere near his mom’s house with all the police and fire department vehicles. Red and blue rotating lights bounced off every surface, and the neighbors were out of their homes, watching all the activity.

Charlotte pulled up behind a police car and had barely put it in park before Mike jumped out the passenger side door and began running down the street. Climbing out, she waved him on when he glanced back over his shoulder. She knew he needed to see for himself that his mother was okay. As she started to follow at a slower jog, the screech of tires had her spinning around. Jake sped down the street, slammed on the brakes, and parked his pickup behind her vehicle. Jake and Nick’s panicked expressions as they leapt from the truck were the same as the one Mike had had on his face since getting the phone call.

The two men caught up with Charlotte, and together they located Mike standing at the back of an ambulance, looking through the open rear doors. Collectively, they sighed in relief when they saw Emma Donovan sitting on a stretcher, arguing with the EMTs and Mike that she was perfectly fine and wasn’t going to the hospital. She was in a floral nightgown and a blanket was covering the lower half of her body. Her friend Linda was chatting with a few neighbors nearby while the police and firemen did their jobs. From the sound of things, the fire was out, but there was smoke and water damage. The scene buzzed around them. The loud engines of the fire trucks and ambulance, shouted orders among the first responders, radios squawking, and all the other noise filling the air made quiet conversation nearly impossible.

“Mom, are you okay?” Jake asked, even though he’d heard her refusing the oxygen mask they were trying to put back over her face after she’d taken it off. “What the heck happened?”

“She was cooking and went to bed with the oven on and food in it!” Mike’s angry, exasperated tone caused an embarrassed blush to cross his mother’s cheeks. “Apparently, she didn’t have her hearing aids in and didn’t hear the damn smoke alarms. If it wasn’t for that fireman, who moved in up the street last month, coming home after a late shift and seeing the smoke, God knows what would have happened. He kicked in the front door, got her out, called 9-1-1, and brought the garden hose into the kitchen to keep the fire from spreading.”

“It was an accident, Michael,” Emma rebuked. “And please stop yelling—I’m not a child. It could have happened to anyone.”

“That’s—”

Mike stopped short when Charlotte placed a calming hand on his arm. He glanced at her, and she squeezed his arm, before saying in a low voice, “Easy, Michael—she’s okay. I know you’re upset, but so is she. And she’s scared, too—don’t add to her stress.”

He hesitated, then nodded, running a hand down his face. “I’m sorry, Mom. You just scared the hell out of us.”

When one of the crew members moved an equipment bag from the ambulance’s rear bench, Jake climbed in, sat, and took hold of his mother’s pale, shaking hand. He addressed the female EMT. “Does she have to go to the hospital?”

“Her vitals are good.” She held up a stethoscope. “If her lungs are clear, then I don’t see a reason for her to go.”

Moments later, Nick and Mike helped Emma step down from the back of the rig, just as the fire chief came looking for them. “You got lucky, ma’am. We were able to keep it confined to the kitchen. However, there’s a lot of smoke and water damage, and we had to rip down most of your cabinets and drag the stove out to make sure the fire didn’t spread through the walls. Turns out the builder put fireproofing behind that whole wall, so it saved the rest of the house from going up. Unfortunately, the kitchen itself is pretty much a total loss. We’ll make sure there won’t be any potential flareups. The fire inspector and insurance adjusters can come out and look at it tomorrow, but you won’t be able to stay there for a while. I’ll give you a list of cleanup companies, too.”

Mike shook hands with the man. “Thanks. She’ll be staying with me tonight.”

As the chief left to check on his squad, Jake turned to his brother. “Why don’t Nick and I take Mom back with us? She can stay in the spare bedroom, and the Trident women can fuss over her for the next few days. There’ll be plenty of us to take care of her, and Nick and I can do some work from the apartment.”

A heavy sigh escaped Mike. “All right. Then I’ll take care of the inspector, insurance, and cleanup company.”

“Good.” Jake glanced over his shoulder at the house before turning back. “Nick, can you see if they’ll let us in to get some clothes, her hearing aids, medications, and stuff. We can throw her clothes in the washing machine if they smell of smoke.”

“Okay. It’ll probably take a bit, though, until they’re done in there. Why don’t you take Emma back in your truck? I’ll call Parker and see if he can send someone out to board up the doors and the kitchen window. Once that’s done, I’ll drive her car back to the compound.” Parker Christensen was a member of The Covenant, who owned a construction company and had plenty of men working for him and the supplies to get it done quickly, even in the middle of the night. In fact, he’d done all the renovations of the Trident compound buildings, including the club.

“But I still don’t know where I put those damn car keys,” Emma stated. “I’ve looked everywhere.”

Sheepishly, Mike pulled two conjoined key rings from his pocket and separated them. “That’s because I’ve had them. I was worried about you driving and knew you wouldn’t give them up willingly.”

“And here I was thinking I was getting Alzheimer’s. Michael, how could you?”

He pulled her into his arms, ignoring her angry glare. “I did it because I love you, Mom. If something happened to you, and I could have prevented it, I’d never forgive myself.”

Emma’s shoulders relaxed as she embraced her son. She then pulled back and motioned for Nick and Jake to join them in a group hug. “You, too, Charlotte. You’re more than welcome to be a part of my crazy, extended family. Thank you so much for being here for me and for Michael.”

A warm tingling feeling coursed through Charlotte, and it wasn’t from the woman’s words, but from the gratitude she saw in Mike’s eyes. She could tell it meant a lot for her to be here with him, even if he hadn’t verbally told her so. Charlotte joined the group, standing between Mike and Nick, before smiling at Emma. “I’m just glad you’re okay, Mrs. Donovan. We were all so worried when we heard what happened.”

“Please, call me Emma, Charlotte. And I don’t ever want to worry any of you ever again. Jake, tomorrow we’re going to call that nice lady at Twin Ponds. I’ll have to have the damage to the house fixed before I can sell it.”

Jake’s arm around the older woman’s shoulders gave her a squeeze. “We’ll get Parker’s company on it right away, then get it listed. In this neighborhood, I’m sure it will sell quickly. Don’t you worry about a thing.”

Emma pursed her lips, and tears filled her eyes as she looked back and forth between her two sons. “I probably should have gotten rid of it years ago. There are some very bad memories in that house for both of you. I’m so sorry I didn’t have the courage to stand up to your father back then. He was a good husband, but not a good father. I’m sorry.”

Leaning down, Mike kissed his mother’s forehead. “It’s not your fault, Mom. I doubt either of us can ever forgive and forget what he did, but you always made sure we knew you loved us. And right now, that’s all that’s important—that we love each other and we’re there for each other.”

“Amen,” Jake added.

Leaving Nick to get whatever of Emma’s he could to hold her over for a few days, the other three walked Emma to Jake’s truck. After making sure she was settled into the passenger seat, Mike gave her another kiss on the cheek, and shut the door. After he and Charlotte climbed into her SUV, Mike grabbed her hand before she had a chance to put the key in the ignition. She raised her brow at him. “Something wrong?”

“No. Well, except the obvious, of course. I just wanted to say thank you.” Charlotte relaxed under his gentle gaze as he continued. “I didn’t quite understand it when Nick had said that Jake grounded him when he was stressed, but now I get it. When you touched me and told me to go easy on my mom, it grounded me. You gave me something to hold onto when I felt like I was spiraling out of control. I was able to breathe and think again, instead of worrying about everything that could have happened, instead of what did. I was so freaked out about the fire and the damage and the fact she could have been killed, but you soothed me and made me realize the only thing that mattered was she was alive and unhurt. Everything else takes a backseat to that. So, again, thank you for being here for me.”

Reaching up, she cupped his cheek. Her heart swelled as she smiled at him. “There’s no place else I’d rather be, Michael. Let’s go home.”