Heidi shook another dose of Tylenol into her palm and bit back a moan when even that slight motion caused her muscles to seize. The aching in her lower back was unrelenting, and it seemed to be getting worse.

Well, maybe you should stick to your regular exercise routine, and not attempt to burn off your frustrations by pushing yourself way beyond your limits, hmmm? The voice in her head was suddenly a deep, sexy, bossy baritone that brooked no argument.

And maybe you should shut the hell up and get out of my head, she told the voice, as she grabbed the magical pills and downed them with a swallow of nearly-cold coffee from the mug on her desk. Honestly, of all the gyms in all the world, why had she chosen to humiliate herself in that one?

"Hey, didn't you already take two of those? Those pills aren't candy, you know," said another deep voice laced with disapproval.

Heidi turned her head (oh, the agony!) to see Paul, framed in the open doorway from the reception area to her office. He looked runway-ready, as always, with his artfully tousled brown hair, an immaculate, tight-fitting lilac button-down stretched across his chest, and perfectly-pressed grey slacks hanging just-so from his lean hips. Sex on two legs, Heidi thought sourly, despite the almost comical way his arms were crossed and his lips were pursed. She glanced down at her own rumpled wrap dress and flip flops—the only clothing she'd been able to get into without destroying her back, and even that only after an extremely long, hot shower—and her temper flared.

Was there some sign on her forehead today saying 'Incompetent Female! Please Boss Me Around'?

"Yes, I'm perfectly aware of that, Paul, thank you. I took a dose at nine o'clock, and the dosage instructions, created by actual medical professionals, say that it's okay to take two every four hours. Since it's now…" She paused to glance down at the watch on her wrist, moving her head as little as possible. "One-oh-four PM, I'm actually a little behind schedule. Okay?"

Paul's eyes widened in indignation and he held up his hands in mock-surrender.

"Yeah, whatever. God forbid someone try to help you out," he snapped. He turned and began to tidy the pile of folders atop the file cabinet which, along with her desk, two folding chairs, and the cluttered wooden table that used to live in Heidi's Portland kitchen, comprised all the furniture in her new office.

Heidi sighed. It wasn't Paul's fault she'd already reached her capacity for know-it-all men before she got to the office this morning.

"I'm sorry, Paul. Would you sit down?" she said in a resigned voice. "Please," she added, when he turned to look at her, her eyes flicking to one of the folding chairs in front of her desk.

He complied, slowly, but focused his eyes on the corner of the office behind her head, clearly not planning to make this easy for her.

"I'm sorry," she repeated. And she was, sincerely. "I do appreciate your concern. I'm just…" Pissed off? Exhausted? Sexually frustrated? All of the above? She sighed. "Really tired. And my back hurts."

Paul met her eyes, and his clear, blue eyes instantly lit with sympathy… and curiosity. He leaned forward.

"Yeah, how did that even happen? You go to the gym all the damn time! You're, like, the fucking queen of Pilates. Then I suddenly get this cryptic text saying, 'Hurt my back. Dom from the gym is taking me home.' Which, of course, makes me think you've finally landed yourself a new man, and you're taking him home for some somethin-somethin."

Despite the lingering pain, Heidi snorted.

"Okay, forget Dom," she spat his name like a dirty word. "Let's talk about the real story here… You get a text saying I'm injured at the gym, and your first thought is 'That must be code for luring a guy to her apartment for sex!' Just so I know, what would your first thought be if I texted 'Building on fire!'?"

She lowered her voice to a fair impression of Paul's deeper tone.

"Hey, this must mean Heidi's tied up in some dude's bondage playroom!"

Paul rolled his eyes to the ceiling and sat back in his chair.

She clasped her hands in front of her chest dramatically and intoned, "My darling Paul, I'm clinging to edge of a cliff. Remember me fondly."

"Well, golly gee!" she mocked in her deep Paul-voice. "Heidi must mean she's having an orgy with three fat men and an orangutan!"

"Are you done?" Paul asked severely, though his mouth twitched in reluctant amusement.

Heidi nodded magnanimously.

"Okay, first of all, I have never said 'Golly gee!' in my life," he argued with mock-dignity, as Heidi burst into laughter.

"But," he continued sternly, after she had composed herself. "Is it so wrong to hope that my best friend is finally going to lose her self-imposed secondary-virginity? It's been way too long, Heids! What happened to 'new city, new rules'? I thought the plan was to finally break out, live a little, achieve that work-life-balance thing, without your mom giving you shit every time you turn around. It's been three weeks since we officially moved here," he said, his eyes boring into hers. "How many of those evenings have you not spent holed up in your apartment or here at the office?"

She opened her mouth, then closed it again.

"Exactly," Paul said with a nod. "So, yeah, maybe I got a little excited to think you were out meeting a guy, instead of hiding away in here."

"I do not hide in here!" she protested, averting her gaze from the concern she read in his eyes. "I'm working, Paul! Trying to get Heidi Morrow Consulting off the ground requires all of my time and attention. Which you should support one-hundred percent," she added wryly. "Since that will make it possible for you to actually afford your new fourth-floor walk-up on Union Park."

He grimaced.

"Besides which," she continued, hating the note of defensiveness in her own voice. "It's not easy to meet new people."

He made a sound of protest, but she rolled right over him with a wave of her hand.

"Yes, yes, you met a couple of guys at brunch and already spent a weekend with them in P-town, and you've hooked up with however-many hot guys already this week. That's one of the things I love about you, Paul. You're freakishly good at meeting people and putting them at ease. It makes you such an asset, as an employee and as a friend. But… that's not me. So, right now I'm focusing on what I'm good at. I'm building a company."

He huffed out a breath of frustrated disagreement.

"Heidi, honey, the company is already built. You moved to Boston with enough clients already lined up to keep you busy for years," he began, just as the phone rang in the lobby. He stood and walked toward the door.

"You're making excuses," he accused, pointing one well-manicured finger at her as he left the room.

She sighed and stretched her back experimentally, pleased that it was finally loosening up slightly.

Was she making excuses, hiding behind work? It was true that things had been going well—even better than she'd anticipated. All of her financial goals were on track, and… Her eyes drifted to the enormous basket of gourmet chocolates that had arrived the day before, a thank-you gift from her last satisfied client… She was building a reputation for herself as a problem-solver; a knowledgeable, unbiased adviser who could walk into a company and quickly identify the weaknesses, the areas of potential waste, and help them maximize their resources, as well as their profits. Still, she couldn't afford to rest on her laurels. Her success in this arena was all about her reputation, and she had to stay vigilant to maintain it.

So, yeah, maybe she'd been working too hard. Maybe things had gotten a bit unbalanced for her. Heck, hadn't she already acknowledged that to herself just the other night? She just needed to find a hobby, a way to unwind…

Her mind immediately flew back to that night, to the open window and the keening cries of a woman finding her pleasure…

She ruthlessly wrenched her mind away. No. That wasn't a hobby, it was—it was—it was wrong. She was an independent entrepreneur, a boss, a leader. She wouldn't be a sex toy for some misogynistic Neanderthal. She'd leave that to Tammy and the rest of 6F's harem.

With a firm nod, she turned to her laptop and began sorting through her seventy-four unread messages.

Paul reappeared in the doorway a moment later carrying a FedEx envelope and a fresh mug of coffee. Heidi's eyes rounded.

"Is that for me?" she asked hopefully, eyeing the coffee.

"Could be," he allowed. "And this package of quarterly financials from Easterbrook Academy could be for you, too," he taunted, dangling the opened envelope in front of her face.

"No way! They finally got their heads out of their asses after three requests? Are the personnel files in there, too? Give it!" she demanded, when he continued to hold it just out of reach.

She made a grab for the package that had her back screaming in pain.

"Oh, shit," she moaned, collapsing back into her chair.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk," Paul chided. "Patience is a virtue, Heids."

She glared at him as she massaged her throbbing back.

"No, they haven't sent any personnel files yet. Just this package of thick, juicy, no-doubt-incriminating financials," he informed her, re-taking his seat. "But if you want it, you're going to have to earn it. Now, what were we discussing?"

"You're a sick puppy, you know that?" she groused.

"Yep. I've heard that one before," he said, a strange note in his voice that said he was only partly teasing.

Heidi frowned, but before she could ask him about it, Paul cut her off.

"Here," he said, setting the steaming coffee in front of her. "Now tell me a story about… let's see… Dom," he said, mimicking the disgusted way she'd said his name earlier.

Heidi rolled her eyes.

"I already told you, there's nothing to tell," she said dismissively, focusing her attention on the fresh mug of coffee.

"Aw, that's too bad!" Paul said cheerfully, pretending to rise from the chair. "Looks like I need to go visit the paper shredder!"

"Honestly," she said, smiling even as she shook her head at his empty threat. "How old are you?"

Paul grinned and clasped the envelope in front of his chest like a shield. "Older than you, chickie, though I don't look a day over twenty-five! Now spill."

"Fine. God! Just let me get on with my day!" she said, throwing up her hands in exasperation.

"Dom is my neighbor," she recited. "He and his brother happened to be at the gym this morning at the same time I was. I was feeling guilty that I haven't been to the gym as much since we moved, and my ass is fat enough already, so I tried to up my workout routine by adding some lunges and weights. I pulled a muscle in my back and Dom's brother helped me out. And then Dom, who's a jerk, got into some kind of pissing contest with his brother and insisted on taking me home. So he did. The end."

She held out her hand expectantly for the envelope.

Paul ignored her, his brow creased in thought.

"Okay, wait. Dom is your neighbor?"

"Yeah," she said impatiently. "He lives next door, just across the alley from me. Unit 6F."

Paul seized on this detail.

"So, you already knew him before today?"

Heidi could feel the blush climbing from her chest to her face.

"I… sorta knew him. We're neighbors."

But Paul had obviously seen the blush and wouldn't be put off. He leaned forward, like Perry Mason out to prove his case, and simply raised one eyebrow.

Heidi squirmed.

"I… okay, fine, this is so embarrassing… I heard him having sex," she admitted.

Paul's jaw dropped. "You what?"

"He obviously likes to have the windows open and I heard him… doing women."

"Women? As in more than one?"

Heidi nodded.

"Four," she supplied.

"Four women at once?" Paul looked reluctantly impressed.

Heidi pulled a face. "No! God, Paul! Okay, first, you're a little too interested in this. This guy doesn't play for your team."

Paul acknowledged this with a shrug.

"And second… no, four women in the past three weeks. Individually," she felt her face grow even hotter. "As far as I know. Although with him, who knows?"

"And what does that mean?" Paul wanted to know.

"Just… he has… he does… unusual things to them."

Paul's head reared back in surprise, and Heidi was compelled to explain.

"God, not like whatever you're thinking! Not…" She took a deep breath and looked away from Paul. "He's a dominant, and he gets… rough with them. Consensually."

Paul was quiet for a moment. Then two. Heidi finally glanced up at him to see that a frown was back on his face.

"And you find that… disturbing?" he asked, his tone serious.

Heidi took a deep breath and considered the question.

"I… No. I find it… interesting, I guess. Intriguing… But purely in a fantasy-way!" she added, seeing Paul's curious expression. "I could never actually do that, you know?"

Paul nodded slowly, seeming to consider something, but then he continued.

"Okay… so he's a dominant. Wait, Dom the dominant?" he chortled, making the connection for the first time.

Heidi giggled.

"I know! I thought that, too. His mama was psychic."

"Okay, fine," Paul said, rocking his chair back with a smile on his face. "So he's a neighbor with an intriguing sex life. Hot?"

A vision of Dom, muscles on display and sweaty from his workout, appeared unbidden in her mind. She licked her lips unconsciously and nodded.

"So, you have a hot, intriguing neighbor who rescued you when you hurt yourself. And that makes him a jerk because…"

"He dominated my dog."

Paul's chair flew backward before he managed to right himself and bring the front legs down with a crash.

Heidi giggled again, then told him the tale of Tammy and Princess.

"Pretty sure he caught the fact that I knew Tammy's name," she concluded. "But if he didn't want people to hear, he shouldn't have opened his window, right? Anyway, he insinuated that I wasn't a responsible dog owner, while I was standing there half-naked and covered in coffee! That's not exactly chivalrous," she said.

Paul hmmed in sympathy and rubbed his chin, deep in thought.

"And then," she continued, warming to her story and glad to vent now that she had begun. "This morning after the gym thing, he helps me into his car and drives me over to my car to collect my wallet and house keys and stuff, right?"

"You left your wallet and keys in your car?" Paul interrupted.

"Yes, whatever. I do it all the time and I've never had a problem with it before."

"Maybe because you lived in an exclusive suburb of Portland with only 5000 residents? You're not in Kansas any more, Toto!"

Heidi sighed.

"Okay, fine. I get that. But the point of my story is that I have already heard this lecture, all the way across the parking lot and then halfway to my house!"

Paul nodded once, as though satisfied.

"Are you for real?" she asked him indignantly. "You're supposed to be on my side!"

"I am on your side, for real," he said calmly. "It was stupid. Now you know it. Continue," he said, waving a hand.

Heidi tamped down her flare of annoyance at the high-handedness of men.

"So, he spent the rest of the car ride lecturing me on not overdoing things at the gym," she continued. "Said I need to find a better gym with a personal trainer to show me proper form and whatever."

Paul opened his mouth, but she cut him off with a sigh.

"Yes, yes, I know, he's probably right. The point is that I'm sitting there, in pain, and this guy who's practically a stranger is lecturing me. It was… humiliating," she admitted in a small voice.

Paul inhaled deeply.

"I'm sorry, sweetie. That sucks," he agreed, and Heidi found her eyes filling with tears. She nodded.

"But… honestly, I don't think he was being a jerk. He was being protective. That's what a dominant does."

Heidi snorted in disbelief.

"I've read the books, Paul. And I've heard the audio, first-hand. That's not what a dominant does. A dominant is all 'I made up a rule and you broke it, and now you must be punished'!" she concluded, affecting a deep, menacing voice.

Paul pressed his lips together as though fighting laughter.

"Okay," he allowed. "A dominant is sometimes like that, for fun or when the situation calls for it. But in general…"

His blue eyes were serious as they held hers.

"In general, a dominant is all about protecting what's his. And the rules he puts in place aren't arbitrary or based on his whim… in general," he reiterated, seeing that Heidi was about to protest. "Yeah, it sounds like this guy could've expressed himself better, since you hardly know him, but… it sounds like he was trying to be protective."

Heidi sipped her coffee. She remembered the way Dom's hand had felt, wrapped tenderly but firmly around her waist, how gentle he'd been when he'd grabbed her seat belt and buckled her in, how he'd all but carried her to her front door and offered to get her an ice pack from his own freezer, how he'd given her his cell number and told her to text him when she was ready to pick up her car. That part had felt nice, so nice. But…

"Okay, fine. So doms aren't necessarily jerks. But I'm not his," she said slowly, putting the mug on her desk. "And I'm not a submissive. You know me, Paul! I'm not weak. I have a career. I have goals." She gestured around the office. "I could never just sit back and let someone call all the shots."

"Doms aren't jerks," he agreed. "And, sweetie, subs aren't weaklings."

She raised an eyebrow skeptically.

"It takes so much strength to yield yourself to someone completely… such an indomitable sense of self to let someone else call the shots," he said rapturously, excitedly. "To know that someone's given themselves to you that way…"

Heidi sucked in a breath as light finally dawned.

"You know an awful lot about this," she observed.

"I do," he agreed, his eyes not leaving hers.

She exhaled loudly and looked away, not ready to have that conversation right now.

"I still don't think…"

He held up a hand to cut her off.

"It's not for everyone. It might not be for you. God knows, with your mother…"

"Hey!" Heidi protested. "Just because she believes strongly in women's rights…"

"True or false? She commonly refers to straight white men as 'our oppressors'?"

Heidi winced and blew out a breath. "True," she admitted.

"True or false? She considers labeling restrooms as 'Women's and Men's' a form of 'gender apartheid'."

Heidi sighed. "Also true. You know it is."

"Mmmhmm. And she has a right to her opinions, but just consider how they might influence your perception of your hot, intriguing, protective neighbor," he said, a teasing glint in his eye. "Speaking of whom, do you think you'll see him again?"

"Probably tonight," Heidi mumbled. "I took the train in today, and I think he's taking me to get my car when I get home."

Paul focused on this.

"So maybe you could suggest doing something this weekend, to thank him!"

"Can't. No, really," she insisted, when Paul looked at her skeptically. "Not only do I have a ton of work to do, legitimately, but I actually, um… promised my mom I'd visit." She shrugged sheepishly.

Paul sighed.

"Well, if it's meant to be, an opportunity will present itself. Just… keep an open mind," he advised as he stood up and stretched.

Heidi figured that wouldn't be a problem. Right now her mind was flooded with all the things Paul had told her, and all the things she still wanted to know.

"We have got to get some decent furniture in here," Paul complained, and Heidi's attention snapped back to the present.

"If only I had an executive assistant I could delegate a task like that to…" she mused.

Paul grinned and handed her the FedEx envelope with a mock salute.

"I'm on it, boss."