I had a list. All the things I wanted to do with and to Savannah before this thing between us ended. Not that I was planning on breaking things off with her anytime soon. My list was too long for that. But it would happen soon enough. It always did. I'd enjoy my time with her, and then little by little, we'd want to spend more time apart. Any issues we ignored in the beginning would start to annoy us, and if we were lucky, we'd realize it was better to take a step back than to let things implode.

I enjoyed spending time with her before we started having sex, and if it was all possible, I wanted us to stay friends once everything else ended. I didn't want things between the two of us to become like they were between Bianca and me.

Which was another reason I always had to remember that Savannah and I weren't dating. I'd learned my lesson from Bianca. I didn't do the whole boyfriend / girlfriend thing. Erik's relationship with Tanya was the exception, not the rule. I wasn't going to risk it. I didn't want to risk it.

There was only one risk worth taking, and that was the one that came with the cuffs and whips and other toys I possessed in my playroom. I'd enjoyed introducing those risks to Savannah. The sight of her stretched out and bound, her soft pink skin glistening with arousal, had tested my self-control in ways I never imagined. I'd tasted her, touched her, and it wasn't enough. Even when we weren't together, thoughts of her kept coming to me. How she sounded when I took her to the edge but kept her from falling over it. The look of her skin striped pink by my hand.

A few nights ago, I introduced her to wax play, and I could almost still feel the different sensations of her soft skin and the smooth heat of the wax. She made the sexiest sounds when the melted wax landed on her nipples. And an even hotter cry when I slid the first small ice cube into her pussy.

I closed my eyes and muttered a curse. Being with Savannah had opened up a part of my artistry that had been locked away for years, giving me the ability to focus better than I had in a long time. Of course, that didn't mean I wasn't occasionally interrupted by the need to take her again even in the middle of what I was working on.

I'd never been with a woman I craved so much. Even though I had plans for us tonight, I wasn't sure I could avoid fucking her at least once before we started our games. Just the thought of burying myself inside her was enough to make me hard.

"Jace?"

Her voice came from the front foyer a moment before the door closed behind her. I'd given her a spare key and the alarm code a month ago, so I didn't have to worry about being so caught up in my work that I left her standing outside in the summer heat.

"In here!"

I didn't wait for her to come to me though. All of my planning and my preparation had heated my blood too much. I caught her in the connecting corridor, my mouth coming down hard on hers. She wrapped her arms around my neck, and when I boosted her up, her legs went around my waist, her skirt pushing up past her hips. She made a sound in the back of her throat as she rocked against me, the friction nearly painful against my cock. I gripped her hair tight as I bit down on her bottom lip, but even though I knew both actions had to sting, the moan that escaped was only one of pleasure.

I reached down, and with a quick tug, ripped off her panties, leaving her bare against my knuckles as I undid my pants. A moment later, I was inside her, driving up into her as she cried my name over and over. This wasn't about Domination or submission, about control or pain, or anything other than the fact that I simply couldn't stand being near her and not being inside her.

Only a few minutes later, I pressed my face against her neck, and buried myself deep, coming with a muffled groan. When she exploded around me a moment later, I wondered if maybe there was something to Erik's change of heart after all.

As I lowered Savannah to her feet, I pushed the errant thought to the back of my mind. I didn't want to go there. Savannah and I were enjoying each other, that was all.

I kept my face turned away as I picked up her discarded panties and shoved them into my pocket. As I straightened, I tucked myself back into my pants but didn't bother completely doing them up. I didn't plan on either of us wearing much of anything once we were done with dinner. Having her now had only whetted my appetite, and I knew it would take most of the night to satisfy it. If it could be satisfied at all.

"Would you like some champagne?" I asked as I gestured toward the kitchen.

She followed me, apparently lost in her own thoughts. Neither one of us said anything until we each had a full glass of champagne and were carrying plates over to the smaller kitchen table.

"I had an interesting call after work today."

I glanced at her, but she wasn't looking at me. In fact, there was a strange expression on her face that I hadn't seen before. She took a drink from her glass, then raised her eyes to meet mine.

"Who was it?"

She swallowed hard. "It was your mother."

I stared at her, thinking I must have heard her wrong. She knew about my past and all the things my mother had and hadn't done. How she'd left me behind. How she'd chosen other people and herself over me. Hell, I even told Sav the whole truth about what happened with my sculpting. How it'd been my mother's birthday when I tried to surprise her with a present I made. How the guy had thrown it against the wall, nearly hitting me with it, and how my mom's reaction had been to throw it all away after the guy left.

Savannah knew all of that, and still, she talked to her.

"I don't know how she got my number, or how she knew I was doing a story on you, but she called me and–"

"What the hell were you thinking?" I snapped as I grabbed her arms, giving her a little shake. "Just because we've been fucking for a couple weeks doesn't mean you can introduce yourself to my fucking mother. What did you tell her about us?"

She yanked away, but not before I saw a flash of pain under the fury in her eyes. "Nothing. She didn't ask about anything like that." She took a step back. "All she wanted was to know if I could get a message to you, to ask you to call her."

Ever since Savannah and I made up after the incident at the restaurant, I'd ignored the handful of calls and texts I'd gotten from my mom. Every one of them said she wanted something. She hadn't even been subtle about it, though she hadn't said what this something was.

"I'm not interested." Everything inside me had gone cold at first, but I was hot again. "Why didn't you hang up as soon as she identified herself? Didn't you think it was even a little bit strange that she would track you down?" I held up a hand before Savannah could offer whatever flimsy excuse she'd planned. "Never mind. I already know the answer. You're a fucking reporter. Of course you can't mind your own fucking business."

Shock and hurt registered, and then it all disappeared. Her face went blank, and her voice was flat as she spoke, "Your mom said it was important. Life or death. I thought you should know."

"It's always important with my mother," I countered as I turned away from her. My head was spinning, stomach roiling.

How had things taken such a horrible turn so fast? I'd been planning a night of decadent pleasure for the two of us, and now I didn't want to even look at her. How could she betray me like that?

Or, the better question, how could I have let her get close enough to me that it would hurt when she showed her true colors? How could I have believed that she was different from any other woman? Different from Bianca?

"Get out."

The words dropped into the silence, and I waited to hear her argument about why she wouldn't leave, why I should listen to whatever excuses she planned to give. Instead, I heard the click of her heels on tile, growing fainter and fainter until they disappeared. When the door closed, I knew it was over, and I only had myself to blame for all of it.