THIRTEEN

She dreamed of him. She was on her knees at the club, gazing up at him. She was wearing a collar, a strip of velvet with a pendant, but a collar nonetheless, and she loved having it on, loved feeling his fingers brush against it. He snapped a tether to it, linking them together. Then she heard laughter.

Turning, she saw Jimmy pointing at her, a whole legion of Dommes staring at her with derision. Their glossed lips were stretched with cruel laughter as male Dominants eyed her with speculative avarice. As they closed in around her, Dale vanished, the tether loose on the ground for anyone to pick up. She scrambled for it, but a large booted foot stepped on it, and she looked up into the face of a bald-headed, beefy Dom she’d never seen before. He picked it up as one of the Dommes appeared next to him, cocking a latex-clad hip.

You gave up control. Now you’re ours. Our little poodle bitch. Sit up and beg, bitch . . .

She woke up in darkness, her heart beating rapidly, fingers curled into her pillow. She didn’t know any of the people in the dream except Jimmy. She knew Dommes in the club, but they were courteous and pleasant to her. Some of them she considered friends, at least inside the club. She had no idea how they’d react to her appearing as Dale’s submissive, but of course they wouldn’t react in such a criminally horrible way.

So the problem was in her head, wasn’t it? If she publicly showed herself that way, she would be letting down a wall, letting them see her true self. When the Dom stepped on the tether, the way she’d felt in the dream was all too familiar to her. She’d struggled with it the first year after Roy died—a loss of security.

Having a significant other felt like a fence against harm, because someone had a permanent connection to her and was concerned about her whereabouts. Both her parents were dead, and other than Roy’s father and his one sister, Evie, the rest of his family hadn’t seen her as suitable for him. Roy hadn’t cared about their opinion, of course. Once he passed, his brothers had made some noises about trying to take some of his self-made fortune. They claimed that since he’d capitalized on connections made through the family business, some of his estate belonged to them, but she’d had a lawyer viciously quash that attempt. That was the last she heard of them.

As for Evie and Amy, she’d set them up a trust fund to ensure they would never have to worry about money, including college tuition for Amy. Roy had asked her to watch out for them and she always would, both because it was his wish and because they’d loved him, with or without money.

After the unsettling dream, she left the bed, went down to her reading nook and wrapped herself in her blanket. She brought a cup of hot tea with her to settle her nerves. She told herself it was nothing; merely what the late hours of the night could do the mind, creating demons and nightmares where there were none. But she really wished Dale was here.

Too fast. You’re getting too deep, too fast.

No. She was in control. It was all right. A dream held no power over her. She kept telling herself that, even as her subconscious beat an uneasy tattoo against her lower abdomen.

Too fast.

—

In the morning, the dream lingered with her, but she did her best to outrun it. She rushed through getting dressed and showered, only to find there wasn’t an overabundance of things to do at the house. The boys had done a remarkable job of cleaning up after themselves, chaperoned by the eagle-eyed SEALs. Her housekeeping staff had anything else needed well in hand, like putting away the extra equipment and furniture, tidying up the courts and vacuuming the theater and arcade area. Lynn even had time to help her make up the brunch she was taking to Dale.

They made omelets, bacon, sausages and biscuits. Lynn had suggested garlic pepper in the omelets, which Athena agreed gave them a little kick. The housekeeper sampled Athena’s biscuits with an approving nod, then added a couple fresh tomatoes to the basket. “To cut up over the breakfast to give it color and flavor.” She winked. “He’s a nice man, Mr. Rousseau. He was so courteous yesterday, helping me carry things to the kitchen.”

“He is a nice man,” Athena agreed. Sometimes not so nice, in ways that made her shiver with pleasure. The thought didn’t necessarily calm her nerves, though. They stayed on edge on the drive over to Dale’s, but once she pulled into the junkyard, she shoved it all down, determined to enjoy her morning with him. It was only brunch, for heaven’s sake.

He was already up, and on his second cup of coffee. Her timing was good. He’d just finished cleaning the dog runs and doing the feeding. As he came up to the apartment to join her and lowered himself into a chair at the kitchen table, the two of them making general conversation, she noticed he wasn’t moving as fast as normal. She was right; he’d overdone it yesterday. Yet when her glance lingered on his leg, the way he was massaging the knee, she saw his jaw tighten in warning. Fine, she wouldn’t take them down that road again. But why wouldn’t the stubborn man let her help him? She could have come earlier, helped him with the dogs.

As she kept up a bright chatter of conversation, she reminded herself he’d been doing for himself for a long time. He’d told her quite clearly he didn’t need her for that. He’d also implied there were other volunteers for the shelter who could pitch in. If he’d ask for their help. Yeah, right.

All right, fine. If he wouldn’t let her pitch in on the manual labor, there were other ways she could help.

“When I was talking to Neil and Lawrence about grants for the kids yesterday, I had an idea for your place.” She put his plate down in front of him, closing her hand briefly on his broad shoulder before turning back to the stove. “If you’re interested.”

“Why don’t you stop flitting around the kitchen and come eat your breakfast?” he said, blue-green eyes tracking her. “You can tell me about it. Are you all right today?”

“Yes, certainly.” She raised her brow as if surprised he’d asked. She hadn’t gone back to sleep after her dream, but she was wired like she’d downed one of those energy drinks. She slid into the spot, picked at her eggs.

“You mentioned the storage building, and I know the trust will help cover that, but your main goal is to find good homes for the dogs, keep them rotating through here so you can help as many as possible. That’s as important as maintaining the facility.”

“True.” But his look was wary. “What did you have in mind?”

“Think about the material you have to draw people here. It’s perfect. The SEAL who died, his father running it in his honor because of the first dog he rescued. Now you, a veteran with one leg, continue to run it. It plays perfectly. It—”

His face turned to granite. “Whoa. Stop there. ‘It plays perfectly’?”

“You know what I mean.”

“Yeah, I do. No.”

“Why not? If you just—”

“Athena.”

“But it makes perfect sense. Why wouldn’t you—”

“Because I said so.”

She came up short at what was nothing short of a barked command, the tone he’d use to bring a raw recruit to heel. She saw herself again at the end of that loose tether in her dream. Was that what a submissive was to him? You gave up control . . .

“This isn’t about your pride,” she said icily. “I assumed you’d want what was best for the dogs. And—”

“That’s not what this is. I will see myself in hell before I capitalize on what Ed and Eddie went through.” He smacked his lower leg, the sound of metal making her flinch. “And if I wanted to be some sob story news program—”

“I didn’t mean it that way. I’m trying to help.”

“No, you’re not. You’re doing it again. You—”

“No, I’m not,” she fired back. “Every time I disagree with you, it’s not because I’m trying to run things. I am allowed to have my own opinions and ideas.”

“Yeah, you are. Never said you weren’t.” He sat back, bracing his hands on his thighs. “This was why I knew it was a mistake for you to see me the other day, without the leg. And seeing me this morning, when you can tell it’s hurting. It kicks off this mode in you.”

“Don’t you do that.” The surge of anger that moved through her was so intense she felt lightheaded. “Don’t you turn that day into something wrong and ugly. Don’t twist it and use it against me right now because it makes you angry to be vulnerable.”

His gaze narrowed, became dangerous. “Then don’t use my perceived vulnerability as a way to grab the reins. You will lose that fight, Athena.”

“It’s not about winning and losing—”

“It’s always about winning and losing,” he shot back.

“If there’s an enemy. You see me as your enemy.” She saw it in his angry expression, his defensive body language.

“No. What the hell is—” He reclaimed his temper, perhaps registering the stricken look, but by then she’d done what she never did. She bolted.

—

She could have run to her car, left him there, because as capable as he was, he couldn’t run, not faster than her. But she couldn’t leave. Instead she ran deeper into the junkyard, until her heart was pounding high in her throat and she was even dizzier. She’d gone up a hill, was standing at the boundary of the property. A high chain-link fence with barbed wire marked it.

She realized she was crying. It seemed she spent half her time with Dale crying or close to it. It couldn’t be normal, could it? She also realized she wasn’t alone.

The two Rottweilers had followed her. Had Dale sent them after her, making sure someone was watching over her amid all the piles of scrap metal that could pose a potential hazard to someone running blindly through them? She wouldn’t be surprised if he had.

She lowered herself to a car’s backseat, propped on a pile of tires like a weird retro couch. They’d probably pay a thousand dollars for it in New York City. She put her hands over her face and leaned forward against her knees, trying to get the aching to stop. Why hadn’t she run toward her car? An enemy.

She’d learned to accept that sense of aloneness that came with being a widow, no matter how many people surrounded her. It was like there was an umbilical cord between married people, and the loss of one left it severed, dangling. In a matter of days, Dale had made her feel not alone, which made this all the more excruciating, a reopening of a carefully tended wound.

She knew he’d been about to ask her what the hell was wrong with her, and that was the question, wasn’t it? That dream had unsettled her, but it was a symptom. So much was changing so fast, and one part of her embraced it, refused to slow down, while another felt like she was clinging to a cliff’s edge, with no one to grab her if she let go.

She was being ridiculous. She shouldn’t have come, should have made an excuse, backed out of the brunch. She’d known she was out of sorts, something not right with her. She shouldn’t have inflicted that on him. He was probably wondering if being with the crazy girl was such a good idea after all. She should retrace her steps, make as dignified an apology as could be managed, get in her car and drive away.

When she heard his footsteps, it loosened some feelings and tightened others, more of the same thrilling and exhausting duality. She didn’t know what to do, so she simply sat there, her head down, as the cushion next to her gave way under his weight.

“Come here.” His arm was already around her shoulders, enfolding her. He didn’t just bring her to his chest. He scooped her up, moved her into his lap and held her.

“I’m sorry. I know you think I’ve lost my mind. I’m not—”

“Shut up.”

She shut up, pressing her face into his shirt, her shoulders quivering against the strength of his arms around her.

“Shh. Easy girl. Shh.”

“I wasn’t trying to be adversarial. I—”

“The last thing you are is my enemy, girl. I’d cut out my tongue if I could take back anything I said that made you think that.” He muttered a curse, brought her closer. “Damn it. Fuck. Just . . . be quiet a moment. Let’s both breathe.”

“It’s like a roller coaster. Everything’s so perfect one day, and then the next I feel so afraid and unsettled. Things just keep going wrong. I don’t think . . .”

“That’s what happens when two stubborn, independent, middle-aged people are falling in love, Athena.”

Her gaze snapped up to his. Though his expression was still tense, he gave her a wry glance. “You have a better explanation, Ms. Know-It-All?”

She closed her mouth, a weird tingle of sensation threading through her chest. She wanted to be with him every second, and thought of him when she wasn’t. His kisses made her knees weak, and his gaze could make her breath stop in her throat. It wasn’t the first time it had crossed her mind, but given that women tended to indulge romantic fantasies, and she and Dale hadn’t known one another very long, it hadn’t been totally credible. But by implication, Dale had said he was falling in love with her as well. Which made the possibility far more real.

She’d fallen for Roy during the first weekend of meeting him. He’d told her it had taken him only the first moment.

“Wow. Uh . . .”

“Here.” He eased her into a sitting position next to him. Across from them, the dogs were lying down in the shade of a battered Ford Fairlane. Dale kept an arm around her waist. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to knock your feet out from under you.”

“Did you mean it?”

“It’s how I perceive the issue. I think it’s the truth.” He met her gaze. “Only you can say what’s happening in your own head. But the way you worry and fuss over me, and the few nights we’ve spent together, the way things take on a life of their own, it sure as hell suggests that’s what’s happening. I’ve been a Master awhile, Athena. I’ve seen the way it looks for people who are wrapped up in each other above and beyond the Dom/sub stuff.”

“Yes.” Session euphoria could easily be mistaken for enduring emotion, like teenage hormones, but during aftercare one saw the truth of it, in the way committed couples related when the session was over.

He rubbed a hand over his jaw. “Let me do a better job of saying what I was trying to say. We’ve talked about this. You were trained, so to speak, to run things, to handle things. An ultimate service sub, if you want to think of it that way, trained by your husband to be his Mistress. As such, you equate your worth with service. It’s a fine, noble thing in ninety-nine percent of that incredible, amazing life of yours that gives so much to others. But that’s not what I want from you. That’s not what you came to me for. We both know it. I’m your Master, Athena. With me, you let go of all of it.”

“But . . . what does that give you?”

“I’ve told you.” He chuckled, but it was a grim sound. “It gives me everything, sweetheart. That’s the way I’m made. When you surrender, when you look at me with that dazzling, mindless trust in your expression, when I feel how you hand over every part of yourself to me, and you accept pleasure and pain at my hand . . . That’s like a drug to me. And I do like the service side of you. I like it when you make me a sandwich and sit at my feet in that thin, pretty robe of yours, or nothing at all, so I can enjoy looking at what’s mine. I want to own you, Athena. That’s my drug as well.

“You’re a confident, independent woman, a remarkable person, and I respect all of that. But when you’re sitting at my feet, I fucking love the feeling that you’re my property. To protect and cherish, to fuck when I want. I know you get hot and bothered, thinking about it like that, too. There’s nothing PC about it, but we both get off on it, right?”

She nodded. She was getting hot and bothered right now, hearing the words come from his distracting mouth.

“But because of what we both bring to the table—my leg, your husband—it’s a fine line. I don’t mind you caring about me, wanting to help me, any more than I expect you to mind me wanting to do the same for you. But . . . Roy sounds like a great guy, so don’t take this the wrong way. I don’t need to be handled like him, and when you get uptight about all this, you go into that mode. That’s not the way it works for you and me. Understand?”

“I think so. I don’t know. I still have trouble with that part.” She let out an unhappy sigh, pushing her hair away from her face.

“That’s the biggest step in letting go.” He touched her cheek. “You have to decide you’re ready to let go of one relationship and move into another. You keep straddling that fence. I don’t mind it, much, because I understand how hard that is, but at some point you have to choose, Athena. Or I’ll walk. That’s not an ultimatum to push you. I just don’t want to settle for less.”

Hadn’t she recoiled from that word herself? Settle. The success of her marriage, the failure of his, had brought them to the same point, the same resolve. “So what does that mean to you?” she asked. “How will it look and feel to you, if I’ve made that choice?”

“You’ll know when I know,” he said. “I won’t be able to lead you to that, Athena. But when it happens, we’ll both know you’ve given me everything, and not just when I have you tied up and you’re lost in subspace. When and if it happens,” he added gently, “it doesn’t mean you don’t love your husband. It means you understand you’re still alive, and moving forward. Which I think Roy wanted, if he’s the type of guy you described. I know if you were mine and I died, I’d want you to be in good hands, loving hands. I wouldn’t want you to be alone in this world. In fact, no offense to Roy, but screw that. I don’t want you alone in this world. You’re becoming important to me, Athena, in a way that might get a little scary to you, because I don’t do things halfway once I’m sure of myself, and I’m a pretty decisive guy.”

“Really? I hadn’t noticed.” The corner of her mouth tipped up. “You seem to waffle over the littlest things. It’s tedious and annoying.”

He ruffled her hair. “Be careful, woman. You get too mouthy and I have ways of dealing with that.”

She smiled. They sat silently for a few moments before she spoke again. “The aggravating thing is, I’m really good at this kind of stuff, the fund-raising and such. I just keep sabotaging it by offering it the wrong way, at the wrong times. Despite that, I hope you’ll let me help. It doesn’t have to be me trying to control things.”

“You didn’t ruin anything. The ideas are good ones. I trust you to help with that, when I ask for it. I just . . . I know that what you’re saying would help, but I am not this missing leg.” His jaw got that rock-hard look to it again, his eyes flashing. “Maybe it’s selfish of me, but even for a good cause, I won’t exploit it. Not when other guys came home in body bags, leaving widows and kids without dads, and I’m the lucky bastard who gets to still be here. You understand?”

She did, and it matched everything she already knew about him. It also gave her a twist of guilt and self-reflection. So much of what she’d done for Roy had been tailoring herself to his needs. At some point, had she’d stopped seeing Roy, the whole man, and instead defined him by the things he needed from her? Dale was very much his own man, and from his behavior yesterday with the kids, and even now, talking about it, she knew he was telling her the truth. He respected who and what she was. But he wouldn’t allow it to adversely direct what they were becoming together. There was a relief in that, if she would accept it. She didn’t have to run the show.

She saw that, but she also wasn’t going to dump all that responsibility on him. She had to learn how to deal with uncertainty in their relationship better. Once she managed that, there were ways their roads could cross, intertwine, help one another. How a relationship was supposed to evolve.

She nodded, but she should have known he’d seen deeper than that. “Now that we’ve dealt with that,” he said, “what was this about this morning? You were out of sorts. What was going on?”

“I can’t really talk about it right now. Or rather . . . I wish we wouldn’t. Can we talk about it at another time?”

He gave her a thorough look, one that made her cheeks flush a little, her eyes lower. She knew it was somewhat cowardly, but it was too much for one day. Her shoulders eased when he sighed. “All right. But we’re going to have to talk about it more at some point. You don’t get out of it forever.”

She shook her head. “I’m sorry I interrupted our breakfast.”

“Well, if you’re really sorry, you’ll run your pretty ass back up to the apartment and bring it back here. We can finish eating in these lovely surroundings.” He nodded to the chain-link fence, the junk cars around them. “Best view in the city.”

“I’ll be back in a few moments.” She smiled, but paused. “Can I do anything, for your leg?”

When he gave her his look, she met his squarely. “I want to help, Master. Please let me help.”

“You’re relentless.” He gave her a look of wry exasperation though, making her feel better. “You are helping. It’s hurting like a son of a bitch this morning. If you bring my breakfast back here, that will give it a break.”

“If you want, you could take off the prosthesis and I could bring your crutches.” She held her breath, anticipating a growl, but he lifted a shoulder.

“I may take it off when I get back to the apartment, but for now all I want is my breakfast. And your company. Those boys wore me out.”

“You and me both. I felt stiff as an old woman when I got out of my chair this morning.”

His brow lifted. “You slept in your reading room. Did you fall asleep reading?”

She shook her head. “No . . . I had trouble sleeping. I went down there in the middle of the night, stayed there until morning.”

“Athena . . .”

“You promised,” she said, backpedaling toward the apartment.

His gaze narrowed. “I may not be able to run as fast as you, but the dogs are trained to bring SUVs to a halt. One small contrary woman is no problem at all.”

She chuckled at the threat. Even so, she felt his eyes following her as she retreated. He wouldn’t let it go, she knew. He was as relentless as he accused her of being. But one issue per morning was enough. He was right; there was a fine line of power between the two of them, and she wasn’t entirely easy with how to reconcile them yet.

As she reached the apartment, her phone signaled an incoming text.

Look in the top drawer of my nightstand. I bought you a gift. Put it on before you come back.

When she went to the drawer and saw what it was, her eyes widened. Given the emotional turmoil of the past few moments, she wasn’t sure if she was up to anything sexual, but her body seemed to have different ideas after seeing his gift. He wasn’t here to argue with, anyway, and she wasn’t going to debate it over a text screen. With only another brief hesitation, she shimmied out of her panties to step into the straps and position the clit stimulator in its appropriate place. It was shaped like a butterfly, the body pressing against the insides of her labia, the antennae and shaped head snug against her clit. The controls were on the side. He hadn’t said to turn it on, but just placing it against her body made it respond. When her phone buzzed again, her cheeks were pink and heated, much like the flesh between her legs.

Where’s my food, woman? I’m getting hungry.

It would have made her laugh if she wasn’t feeling like a rubber band, stretched between the earlier argument and now this. She put her panties on over the device, then packed the breakfast back in the basket. She transferred their juice into the covered cups that went with the picnic set. They locked into the cup holders on the sides. Nice normal tasks, while her body quivered and her mind fizzed like carbonated water.

Going down the stairs and walking back through the junkyard was an entirely different experience. The stimulator teased the petals of her sex and her clitoris as she walked. It altered her focus, and though she was still unsettled, the unbalanced feeling wasn’t unwelcome at all. When she came into his view, the way his intent gaze logged everything only sharpened her response. Her nipples were tight against her bra, the flesh between her legs now slippery.

She put the basket down in front of him and he lifted a hand, keeping her on her feet. “Give me your panties.”

Fingers still twitchy, she slid them off, handed them to him. He closed his hand over her wrist, ran a thumb over her wrist pulse. Then he nodded to a Lincoln Town Car about ten paces away. “Go and bend over the trunk. Tuck your skirt up into the waistband so I can see that butterfly and your gorgeous ass.”

His look was direct, his tone uncompromising. He was settling all the debris of the morning in a way all her rationalizing seemed incapable of doing. She moved toward the Lincoln, gathering up her skirt.

“Actually, just get rid of it. I want you naked from the waist down. If I had my way, I’d keep you naked all the time.”

She imagined Dale sitting at her dining room table, her kneeling naked next to him as he ate his meal, seemingly detached yet so aware of her being there, waiting on his desires while her own overflowed. Hour after hour of being accessible to his every demand. Her pussy became even wetter.

She stepped out of the skirt, set it aside, and then put her elbows on the trunk. Bracing her legs shoulder-width apart, she lifted her ass and was rewarded with a blast of heat from his gaze when she dared a look over her shoulder.

“Little tease. Hook your fingers in the edge below the rear window. I want you stretched out over the trunk, your hips pressed to the back bumper. Legs spread wider so you feel that clit stimulator tight against you.”

As she did it, she heard him rise. He’d taken away her ability to look over her shoulder in the elongated position, which she was sure was his intent. He ran his hand down her back, over her backside, checking the straps holding the butterfly against her. He slid his fingers beneath her, verifying it was firmly in place, making her shiver again.

“You stay like this unless you get physically uncomfortable, and then you tell me what’s going on. If I ask you a question, you answer it, no matter what else is going on. Got it?”

“Yes sir.”

His firm swat left a tingling print on her buttock. “I don’t think sir is going to cut it today.”

“Yes, Master.”

“Better.” He put his hand between her legs again, and the stimulator began to hum against her clit and labia. She caught her lip between her teeth as he made some other adjustments. With her own vibrator, she usually focused on the clit, the hard and fast climax that direct contact could deliver. This stimulator proved how responsive the slick inner walls of her labia were, those nerve endings building toward the same end, only with a slower, fiercely sweet build that made her shudder in the restrained position he’d imposed.

“The longer it’s on, the more the intensity will increase. Eventually it goes back to the original setting and starts over again. Since it divides its time between clit and labia, and I can adjust it so the antenna also tweaks you under your clit hood, I can spend the whole morning watching you go fucking mindless, Athena, your cunt gushing over and over. All while eating this great breakfast you made me.”

He gave her another stinging slap, then moved back to the couch. She couldn’t see him from where she was, and the angle of the window provided no reflection. But she could hear him taking a seat behind her to eat his breakfast and stare at her naked, exposed body. Her legs were already shaking, responding to the stimulation of the vibrator.

“So what did you do in the middle of the night? Read a book?”

She nodded, then remembered. “Yes, Master.”

“Tell me about it.” He was eating, because he sounded a little muffled. “Title, what it’s about.”

The man was a sadist. He’d likely endured interrogation torture as part of SEAL training, but he was no slouch at administering it. As she became more and more aroused, he demanded detailed answers about the book, her job, her childhood, the fucking weather. The intensity of the vibration grew, just as he’d predicted. She started pressing against the bumper in a coital rhythm, rotating her hips, unable to resist the stroke of that stimulator.

“That’s nice,” he said, his voice husky with heat. “Keep doing that. Lift your ass, show me that my girl wants to be fucked by her Master. Beg for it with your hot little body.”

Her nipples were stiff points against the trunk lid, her fingers in a death grip on that edge. “Dale . . . Master . . .”

Roy had told her men liked food, beer and fucking. Combine all those things? Heaven on earth. She should have brought Dale a beer.

The orgasm was too close. “I’m going . . . to come.”

“Yes, you are. Try to fight it, girl. I want to see you fight and lose.”

She did her best, but the stimulator won without much of a contest, her body too revved and eager. She screamed out her pleasure, working her hips against the metal, feeling the sun’s heat on her back, in the steel she gripped, but it wasn’t yet so hot she couldn’t bear it. When she came down, she was jerking, because of course the stimulator changed settings on its own schedule, and for a few excruciating moments it was on the same accelerated intensity. She let out a relieved sound when it at last settled down to the original hum. Even that was almost too much, but Dale didn’t seem inclined to stop the device.

He didn’t, not until she came twice more. By that third time, she’d lost her grasp on everything but the car. When he came to her, he had to unhook her hands, massage the stiff fingers. She was making little gasping noises like sobs, only she wasn’t crying this time. When he opened his jeans, she adjusted her legs, lifting her hips automatically. He made another approving grunt as he slid into her from behind and pressed his big body down on hers, taking her right there against the car.

He was even thicker than usual, proving the effect her performance had on him. He came in less than a dozen thrusts. He had one hand tangled in her hair, the other sliding under her shirt to fondle her breasts in her silky bra. He lifted her off the car enough to spread one hand over both, grip the flesh to hold them together. One nipple was caught between his fingertips where they’d tunneled beneath the cup, the other pressed beneath the heel of his hand.

“There she is. That’s my good girl. Sweet, gorgeous woman.”

He slid out of her, adjusted his clothes, and then guided the clit stimulator off of her. When he lifted her upper body off the hood and turned her so her hips were propped against the bumper, she watched him slide her panties back onto her legs, then her skirt. He nudged her to her feet, guiding her hands to his shoulders to steady her as he restored her clothing to its proper place. He plucked open the buttons of her shirt, though, so he could continue to caress her breasts, tease her cleavage and trace the lace edges of the bra.

She swayed at the power of that simple sensation. In answer, he made another soothing murmur and drew her to him. As she leaned against his strength, he slid his arms around her, held her close, spoke in her ear.

“What woke you up in the middle of the night, Athena? What had you all wound up this morning?”

When he did this to her, it was easy. She gave him everything, no reservations. Which underscored what a leap of faith it would be when and if she could do it all the time, as he demanded.

“A dream.” She mumbled it against his chest. “We were at Release, and you had a collar and leash on me. It felt good, but then . . . Jimmy was pointing, and the female Dommes, they were pointing at me, being unkind. Like I was a fraud. You disappeared, and there were all these male Doms, closing in on me, like they could all have me, because I’d lost control, given it away. I was scared, and . . .” She didn’t know how to continue from there.

He sighed, held her closer. “Okay. We’ll deal with it, all right?”

“But not today.”

“No, not today.” He touched her face, guided her gaze up to him. “At some point, we will go to Release, and you will go there as my sub. Even if we only go once, and never go again, that’s going to happen. If you want me as part of your life, that means you let me into all of it. I don’t need it all today, but I want to start meeting your friends, becoming part of your day-to-day life, the way you’re integrating yourself into mine. Deal?”

She nodded. “I think I need to sit down.”

He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’m a bastard, not giving you any breakfast before putting you through all that.”

“Did you eat all of it?” Her words were slurred. Like being drunk, only much better. No hangover. Unless one counted how she kept crash-landing into her doubts and worries on the other side of such euphoria. She was going to work on that, though. That was one of her resolutions from this argument, wasn’t it? He’d almost made her forget they’d had an argument, and that wasn’t such a bad thing.

“I was tempted.” He chuckled. “But I managed to have some manners and save some for my girl. I’m going to put you in my lap and make you eat it from my hand, though. Teach you to trust me for everything, one step at a time.”

She had no problem with that at all. She’d be happy to stay in his lap forever. If only she never had to face anything beyond this blissful state of being he could give to her. However, if there was one thing she knew, it was that a love worth having required courage. She would find the courage to reach for what she wanted—as soon as she figured out once and for all what that was.