"I'd spank her," Matteo said, as he replaced the dumbbell back on the rack.

"Big surprise," Dom muttered, arms crossed in front of him, eyes flitting around to see if anyone had heard his brother's casual, but not discreet, announcement. "And why don't you just say it a little louder? I'm not sure the girls over there on the exercise bikes heard you."

Matteo frowned at the weights in front of him and chose a large set of hand weights. He stood in front of the mirror and the tops of his hands hit his thighs before he began pulling up and lifting into bicep curls. The large bulge of his biceps rose as he lifted. Watching his form in the mirror as he spoke, he dropped his voice.

"Like I give a damn about what other people hear or think," Matteo said, his voice strained as he lifted. "And FYI, I don't stand around and shoot shit with guys at the gym, twin brother or not. Grab some fucking weights and let's go."

Dom rolled his eyes and grabbed a set of weights, imitating Matteo's reps.

"You're a pain in the ass," Dom said.

"You're a bigger pain in the ass," Matteo retorted in a sing-song voice.

Dom grunted as he pumped the weights.

"Seriously, man," Matteo said. "She asks you to do what you did. You do. She takes off first thing in the morning for no reason and then doesn't return your messages? Yup. If it were up to me, she wouldn't sit pretty for a week."

Dom didn't disagree. Part of him wanted to do exactly what Matteo said, and if he'd had consent, there would be no question. But he didn't have consent, and he couldn't just go and punish her. It frustrated him to no end that he had no idea why she took off on him. He'd called her, texted, and even walked to her apartment, only to pound on a door that went unanswered. Had he freaked her out? She sure as hell hadn't seemed freaked out. She'd seemed content, and giddy even, and he thought everything had gone off without a hitch.

Had he fooled himself, thinking that she was somehow different? Had he done what he'd vowed he'd never do, let his guard down and risked everything, taking a chance at more than sexual play, taking her over his lap even, revealing the part of him that pulsed with life, like crimson lifeblood in his veins? He'd taken a risk. Had it been a mistake? If it wasn't her thing, couldn't she have at least given him an indication along those lines?

He was also disappointed. He'd felt he'd pleased her, fulfilled desires she likely didn't even know she had, and yet her leaving without a word said otherwise. His mind kept going back to the day before. The unreserved way her head hit the pillow when he'd taken her, and she'd moaned, as she dug her pretty little fingers into his back. He'd felt on top of the world, as Heidi had allowed him to dominate her in the most primal of ways.

And he hated the idea that he'd somehow pushed her away.

The protective side of him feared the worst, that he'd mistakenly hit a nerve, or scared her, and she'd pulled away from him and left because she was frightened. Was she okay? This wasn't how it was supposed to work. He didn't want to scare her.

He wanted to be the one that made her feel safe.

He pulled himself willfully out of his head and back to the present as he did another curl.

"Consent first," Dom said.

Matteo grunted in return. Consent was a nebulous concept to him. With his charm and luck, he'd land on two feet like a cat every time. But Dom was much more careful, always had been, and his need to stay professional for the sake of his job was crucial.

He glanced at the large clock on the wall.

"Gotta go," he said to Matteo. "Big meeting at work today."

Matteo's raised eyebrows over Dom's shoulders. "Looks like you've got yourself another meeting first."

Dom spun to look, his stomach twisting before he even saw her. He felt her.

The first thing that hit him was how beautiful she was, as she walked toward them, her chin held high but her eyes betraying her, fear and uncertainty flickering as she came closer. Her thick mass of hair was held in place with a clip, and she was wearing an outfit that was impossibly sexy for the purpose of sweating. He'd seen those full breasts, the way her cheeks flushed when he'd unleashed the first taste of his authority over her; he'd felt the rapid beating of her pulse against his chest as he'd teased her breasts under the edge of her top. He'd had the pleasure of her over his lap, her warm belly pressed against his thighs.

He'd been under her spell before, and as she neared, he felt the pull again.

But he was the one in charge. And she'd done something she shouldn't have. He had to remain stern, and get to the bottom of this shit before things got even more complicated.

The fact that she hadn't turned tail and run when she caught sight of them meant something.

"Hi," she said weakly. She stood in front of them, one delicate hand on her hip, the other hanging uselessly as if she didn't know what to do with her hands as she spoke.

"Hi," Dom said, and despite his efforts to hold onto his anger, he felt it give way in place of concern. What if she had been scared? He hated the thought that he could've done that to her. She needed someone to take care of her, not hurt her. Would she have left if she'd trusted him? A sick feeling twisted in his stomach, and his plans to lecture, scold, and remain aloof fled.

"You okay?" he asked, his voice coming out much softer than he'd planned.

Matteo's eyebrows rose as Dom intentionally ignored him.

Her eyes flicked down to the floor as she nodded. "Yeah," she said.

Matteo looked from one to the other and shook his head. "Well, kids, as much as this engaging conversation has me hooked, I need to pull myself away and get to—"

"Bye," Dom interrupted, with a pointed look at the door.

Matteo waved to Heidi, but as he stood behind her, he mouthed words to Dom, and if the Spank Her he mouthed hadn't been exactly clear, the waving motion he made at the air near Heidi's ass sure did. Dom narrowed his eyes and Matteo took off.

Her dangling hand had crossed her belly now, as she held both hands on one hip. She came a bit closer to him, speaking low so they wouldn't be overheard. "We have to talk," she whispered.

He crossed his arms and raised his brows. "You think?" he asked, with deliberate sarcasm. She visibly wilted.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, though it wasn't a repentant sorry. Her eyes had come to his and they were heated, the apology meant to placate. She was pissed herself, it seemed.

"Here isn't the place," he whispered back.

"I know," she hissed, her eyes more clouded now, and as she stepped closer to him, he could smell her, the sweet smell of citrus and spice. She inhaled. "I'm kinda really pissed off at you, though."

"Oh yeah?" he hissed back, taking a step closer, intentionally getting close enough to throw her off her guard. "Because I was the one who left without a word? And didn't return phone calls or texts? After we'd had one fucking awesome time together?"

"You-you… you left, too!" she said, as if the words tumbled out of her mouth before she could speak.

He was so taken by surprise, he felt the anger momentarily pause. "What?"

"Figuratively," she hissed low, and if her accusation hadn't angered him, he'd have grinned at how cute she was. Why did she have to be so cute?

"You just… after I…" To his horror, tears filled her eyes. "I did that. Opened myself up like that. Let you—you know—and then we…" her eyes closed shut. "Oh, God." She swallowed hard and her eyes opened up again. "That was the most amazing thing ever," she whispered. "And then you just left me. Just up and left me, all alone, like you'd had your fill and I was worth nothing." Her voice trembled, and he knew she was trying not to cry. "Just another one of your one-night stands you couldn't even stay in the same room with. How could you do that?"

What was she talking about? He thought back on the night she left.

As what she said dawned on him, he was torn between the desire to take her by the shoulders and shake her to make her see sense, and the desire to pick her up in his arms and hold her.

She'd been exhausted. And as she'd curled up against him in bed, he'd felt she needed some rest. He'd told himself if he left her in bed, she could get some sleep, instead of tossing and turning next to him. And he didn't want her to freak out when she woke up in the morning and found she'd slept next to a guy she hardly knew. If she hadn't been so exhausted, he'd have walked her home, but she was so tired, he'd decided he would let her crash in his bed.

It had nothing to do with the fact that he never slept next to the women he took home. It had nothing to do with a reluctance to draw close to her, to ward off any temptation to become intimate in a way he'd avoided successfully for years.

At least that's what he told himself.

"I left you so you could sleep," he explained, and despite his efforts to stay stern and in charge, his voice softened, his reason seeming frail now that he voiced it.

He didn't like the way her lip trembled. He didn't like how she was so far away from him, not when she needed someone to take care of her.

She blinked. "So I could sleep?" she whispered.

He nodded and took a step closer. "Yes," he said, with meaning. God, he'd been so stupid. How could he not realize that she'd needed him after she'd been left so vulnerable and exposed? She was a big girl. If she'd wanted to go home, she could've. She hadn't wanted to. She'd wanted to stay. "That was stupid of me," he said, overcoming his pride, the desire to make things right with her his only focus. "That was an asshole thing to do, and I shouldn't have done that. I had no idea it would affect you that way, but I shouldn't have been so stupid."

"Oh," she whispered, her eyes leaving his. She spoke to the floor. "And then you messaged me," she said. "And I didn't message you back. And I saw you come and… you knocked on my door," her voice dropping. "I guess that was my stupid move."

He was reluctant to put the blame on her now that he realized how she'd felt, but he also knew that if they were going to pick up where they left off, this kind of breach of trust couldn't be allowed. He'd done his part in apologizing, and he would have to make it up to her.

He had no idea where they were going with this, or what would happen, but he did know that he wouldn't tolerate what had happened.

"Mmm-hmm," he responded, the stern edge creeping back.

Her eyes went back to his, and now they truly were repentant. "I'm sorry," she whispered, but this time her voice was soft and sincere.

He gave a curt nod, not unaware of the fact that he'd been partly to blame as well. "I am, too," he said. "I had no idea you'd misread my intentions like that."

She exhaled a shaky breath as he took a step closer and reached for her hand. They'd had a misunderstanding and both were at fault. She'd run initially. But she'd come back.

It was time to pick things up where they left off.

Leaving without communicating and then not returning his messages was something that by all intents and purposes, was punishable. He didn't have her consent yet.

But it was time he did.

She was up closer to him now, so close that his breath made the little wisp of a curl next to her cheek move. Her large blue eyes looked up at him, curious but somehow heated, as she whispered, "I should be—are you going to—if it were anyone else, would you…"

"Soundly."

Her breath hitched as she inhaled. She swallowed, and twisted her hand in his as he leaned down and whispered in her ear.

"You left, in the dark, alone," he said. "You put yourself in a dangerous situation. That won't happen again."

"Okay," she whispered.

He leaned closer to her, draping her hair over her shoulder, his fingers lightly touching her neck as he whispered in her ear. "Going forward, the correct response when I reprimand you is 'Yes, sir'."

Her eyes widened and a faint splotch of color rose on each cheek. "Yes, sir," she whispered, her eyes frantically searching for onlookers who could've heard them, though they were isolated.

He continued to whisper in her ear. "When I called and messaged you, you refused to answer my call or reply. I consider that disrespectful. That alone would earn you a trip over my lap."

She shifted and her eyes shut tight, but she whispered back, "Yes, sir."

Dom had never had real rules for his submissives. They'd always been fabricated rules, as a real expectation of obedience was unnecessary for bedroom play." But it came naturally to him, as he spoke with Heidi. Hell, he'd always been grateful a submissive would be willing to leave with no expectation of anything further. But this was different.

"Heidi," he whispered, and she nodded as she pulled a little closer and he held her a little tighter. "I won't do any of this until we have consent in place. It's not fair to you, and it's not fair to me."

"I consent," she whispered, and he felt a thrill at her words. A small word, a brief conversation, that changed everything. "But there are things I need to know. I feel like we're jumping in with two feet here."

"We are, baby," he whispered, his plans to remain stern softening at the fear he saw in her eyes, the baby rolling off his lips before he could think about what he was saying.

"I don't know so much about you! Like… your last name, or what you do for work, or, or… if you like the Red Sox, or where you grew up. How can you… spank me and I don't even know if you like cream or sugar in your coffee?" She blinked rapidly, licking her lips.

He chuckled. She was so damn cute.

"Angelico," he said. "That's my last name. I love the Red Sox… I drink my coffee black." He frowned. "I lost track of everything else."

She giggled and he smiled back. He loved her giggle. It was so feminine, and he already knew it was a good indication she was at ease now. Suddenly she stiffened in his arms.

"Oh my God, the time," she said. She pulled away from him, her eyes wide on the clock at the wall. He stood himself, the realization dawning on him that he was late, too. Shit.

"Tonight," he said, as he pulled away, meeting her eyes as he moved to go. "Tonight, we go over all that stuff. I take you out to dinner. You ask me anything you want, and you get honest answers for everything. You wanna know my high school grade point average, what size underwear I wear, whatever? You ask, I'll answer. But I have to go, too. Six o'clock, my place." He paused. "And we'll deal with what happened," he said sternly, with meaning.

He could tell by the mix of nervousness and excitement that crossed her face that she knew exactly what he meant.

Though he'd stated his purpose, he raised an eyebrow to check to see if she was cool with that.

"I'll be there," she said. She paused. "And… okay." Her voice dropped. "Yes, sir." She turned and fled.

Damn. He had thirty minutes to shower and get to work. He'd never once been late for work.

He trotted to the locker room lightly, ready to turbo shower and head in.

She mesmerized him.

She'd forgiven him.

He'd look forward to tonight.

* * *

It took a concentrated effort to focus on the task at hand, as he pulled the nose of his red Toyota into place, his eyes momentarily resting on the sturdy sign in front of his parking space Reserved for Headmaster Mr. Angelico, next to the sign marked Reserved for Mr. Divris. There were only two assigned spaces, Headmaster and Head of Board of Directors. Seeing the assigned space next to his reminded Dom of the impending finance meeting, which he'd intentionally put out of his mind during his week-long vacation. He sighed. Back to the grind.

Despite the fact that they both were rushing to work, Heidi had managed to message him several times, and he'd responded each time. She'd been flirty, and responded to each of his own texts. She was witty, and he loved that the tension had fled between them. He had every intention of giving her the time of her life tonight. She could ask her questions, as he dined her, and they could establish the trust he knew they needed. He knew he would have to spank her, and he pushed away the heat he felt pool in his stomach at the thought of taking her over his lap again. It was hard to really punish her, but he could get his point across quite well without being overly harsh. She didn't need harsh. She was new to this, and they'd both been at fault. She did need to know he meant what he said.

He picked up his laptop bag and slung it over his shoulder, as he shut the door and headed for the entrance.

"Hi, Mr. Angelico!" came a high-pitched voice behind him. He turned, raising a hand in salute to the flock of students that crowded the entrance of the school. He wasn't sure who'd addressed him, but greeted them en masse.

He could not think of Heidi, and he certainly couldn't think of Heidi over his lap, now. Now, he had work to do. Now, he had to focus on the job at hand.

He continued to text her as he made his way to the office.

I have a meeting shortly, he'd messaged. You being a good girl?

Shoving his phone in his pocket as he entered the hallway, students milling about him, instinctively he was on alert, the headmaster in charge, looking to feel the pulse of his students, eyes scanning for anything awry, but everything looked kosher. He nodded, occasionally gracing them with a brief smile, fully aware that students stood straighter and spoke more quietly as he walked past them to his office. He was aware of the presence he held, and he did his best to maintain that presence. That air of authority was one way he was able to maintain the order and decorum he did.

His phone buzzed at the same moment the first bell rang, and students scattered. He waited until he was in the safe confines of his private office to glance at her reply text.

I'm always a good girl.

He smiled.

That could get boring.

Her reply was almost instantaneous. I'll keep that in mind.

He chuckled. I've got to run and won't be available until later. Looking forward to tonight. I'll message you at lunch.

I have to go, too. About to drive and putting my phone down.

Good girl.

He'd used that simple phrase—good girl—just a few times with her, but every time he could see the pleasure it brought her.

"Some girls will take offense to 'good girl'," Matteo had once said, as they sat at The Club, pulling at beers in their hands, eyes on the crowd. "They get all pissy and think it's an insult. But a submissive girl, she'll love it. It's a good sign, before you even get to anything else. She melts when you call her your good girl, she's got a submissive inside, even if she's still lurking."

He put his phone on the edge of his desk, face down, as he arranged the papers he'd need and steeled himself for the upcoming meeting. A small voice nagged at the back of his mind, reminding him how essential it was to separate his work from his private life. Heidi's obedience and submission to him made him feel ten feet tall. But even then, even though it was a positive, motivating sense of doing what he was meant to do, he felt it was dangerous to allow the high he'd gotten from making up with her, and the promise of an exciting evening up ahead, to color the work ahead of him. With a will, he focused on what he had to do.

Where had the folder he needed gone to? He'd had a meeting right before vacation with the business manager, and all his papers had been neatly arranged in preparation for the meeting today. He'd been fanatical about it, even, because he wanted this meeting to go off without a hitch. And now, the blue folder he'd placed right on top of those papers was nowhere to be seen. Picking up the phone on his desk, he dialed his secretary.

"Good morning, Mr. Angelico," Louisa said pleasantly on the other line.

"Morning, Louisa," he said, feeling the impatience of the necessary pleasantries. "I have an important meeting in a few minutes and can't seem to locate a crucial folder. Have you seen a blue folder that I left on my desk before vacation?"

"No, sir, I haven't been in your office, and don't recall seeing a folder. But I'll look through what I have here anyway, in case it somehow mistakenly ended up with my papers." Louisa was fastidious, stringently tidy, and an accidental paperwork mistake seem unfathomable. He sighed.

"Thank you," he said. "And please let me know when the consultants we've hired have arrived."

"They've already arrived, sir," she said, and at the same time, he heard a knock on his office door.

"Thank you, Louisa," he said, as he hung up the phone. "Come in."

Jay Divris, the head of finance at the school, entered. He was the son of Reynold Divris, head of the Board of Directors, and was to the school what old money was to a town—alumni, born and raised to be Easterbrook material. He was always poised and on his game, but today he looked stricken. Tall, thin, and wiry, he moved quickly and with purpose. He ran a hand through his tuft of thinning dark hair, and adjusted his wire-rimmed glasses on his nose.

"Dom," he said in greeting, with a curt nod. Dom nodded in return.

"Good vacation?"

"Relaxing," Dom said, moving immediately past small talk, as he could tell Jay was bothered by something. "Everything okay?"

"The Board of Directors insisted on meeting with the consultants before we did," he said in a rush, sitting heavily at the chair on the opposite side of Dom's desk. It seemed everyone who sat in that chair was always on edge, emotionally-charged, or near tears. Students who faced suspension or expulsion, weepy mothers who feared for the disciplinary actions against students who'd broken school rules, teachers who were stressed or angered, or feared a pending layoff. He did what he always did. He took a calming breath, folded his hands atop his desk, and nodded to Jay.

"A reasonable request," he said. "Though you know I'd love to be a fly on the wall in there; it seems if we all move forward with the same end-goal in mind, we should be able to find common ground. No?"

Jay gave another nod. "I agree," he said. "Though it disturbs me that the financial paperwork I had prepared for today's meeting has gone missing."

Dom was immediately on edge. "You overheard my conversation with Louisa?" he asked, confused.

Jay gave him an equally-confused look. "Louisa? No. I was talking about the quarterly reports I left on my desk." He eyed the closed door behind him. Satisfied it was shut tight, he leaned forward, elbows on his knees, as his voice dropped. "It should come as no surprise that I trust you," he said.

Dom nodded, pleased, but curious what Jay's point was. Jay continued.

"What bothers me is that I can't trust everyone here," he said. Despite the relative warmth of the room, Dom felt a chill come over him. Up until recently, he had, like nearly everyone else on the staff, assumed that the funds that had been inappropriately obtained by the two former board members had been an isolated incident. Though they'd investigated, no one on staff had been implicated in the affair.

"Go on," Dom said. Jay's voice dropped even lower.

"I was contacted by the consultant group we're meeting with this afternoon, and asked to provide the necessary paperwork. I faxed it to them, then intentionally left the papers in a folder on my desk."

"I did the same," Dom said, his hackles rising as he suspected where this story was going.

"Yours still here?" Jay asked.

Dom sat back in his chair, placing his fingertips together.

"Nope."

Jay's eyes narrowed.

"Yet whoever the fool was who took them didn't realize that a paper trail is easily copied," he said. He leaned back and crossed his arms across his chest. "I have everything saved on the server and to a flash drive I took home with me."

Dom smiled wryly. "Good move," he said. "Though I don't like the fact that, clearly, we have underhandedness going on."

"Me neither," Jay said grimly. A knock came at the door, and both men sat up straighter.

"Come in," Dom called, and the door opened. An older woman, with short, curly gray hair, thick glasses and a small, snub nose, peeked in.

"Mr. Angelico, the conference room is prepared for your meeting, but I've not yet found your folder," she said. "It's vacant, but I've put out refreshments and everything else you requested."

"Thank you, Louisa," Dom said, standing and pulling his suit coat from the back of his chair, quickly slipping it on. "Mr. Divris and I have the paperwork covered, but I do thank you for looking."

Louisa gave a polite nod. "Would you like me to fetch anything else for the meeting?"

"No, thank you," he said, gesturing for Jay to join him as he exited his office and headed for the conference room.

"You said the consultants are meeting with the Board of Directors first?" Dom asked, walking so briskly Jay fairly trotted to keep up with him.

"Yes," he said. "They're due to join us in about fifteen minutes."

"Good," Dom said. "That will give us a chance to discuss what we hope this consultation can achieve." Dom was grateful they'd be the first ones in the room, as he felt being the first there would give him an upper hand. It burned to think that someone on his very staff was untrustworthy.

The room to the conference room was ajar, and he pushed it open as Jay continued. "I heard the woman who runs this show is a bit of a ball-buster," he said. "My wife's best friend had a run-in with her a month ago in town, and on her recommendation, she sent a quarter of the staff packing. Said lay-offs, or the company folds."

"Great," Dom said, "If these people think they're going to come in here and layoff my staff, I—" he began to say, but as he pushed the door open, the words froze on his lips.

The conference room was not vacant. The consultants were no longer meeting with the Board of Directors.

Sitting at the table was one very handsome, very well-dressed, stranger Dom knew immediately to be on the consultant team who'd been called in to help set the books to rights. The look on his face was placid, but barely pleasant, and Dom knew without a doubt that he'd overheard the last bit of conversation he and Jay had had before they'd entered the room. But it wasn't the well-dressed stranger who held his attention. Next to him, wide-eyed, with flushed cheeks, her hands clasped so tightly atop the table her knuckles were white, sat Heidi.