her to be
alone with this. Fuck .”
Leland didn’t bother to suppress a
grim smile at the
sound of something crashing, perhaps
accidental y
knocked off a table—or knocked off
deliberately—and the
stream of curses that fol owed.
Despite the serious
circumstances, he wished he had a
recorder so he could
play this for the other guys of Jon’s
team who were used to
him being so irritatingly placid under
pressure. Now that he
figured the woman was in good
hands, Leland could enjoy
the break from pattern, though he was
smart enough not to
goad. Much.
“Try some of those ‘ohms’ you do,”
he said
encouragingly. “You know, that lotus
thing, with the fingers
al arranged in a circle.”
He chuckled as the phone
disconnected with a definitive
click, and replaced his own receiver.
Damn, it was late, and
he’d volunteered to take Ramirez’s
early shift tomorrow.
Maybe he’d get one of the guys to
drop him off at the
corner, so he could get some more
packaged nachos from
Raj. Checking his watch, he thought
he could stil catch the
two a.m. ESPN wrap-up, after al .
After tonight’s events, he thought
he’d be dreaming of the
curvy, perfect submissive he’d yet to
find. The one who
would wear his col ar and nothing
else to bed. He’d curl his
large body around her like a
protective panther and know
she was al his, one hand cupped
around her generous
breast, the nipple teasing his palm as
he nested his cock in
the crevice of her soft ass. They’d
dream the night away
together.
He hoped Jon was on the way to
finding a similar
treasure. Something in the serious
hazel eyes of the
blonde, the set of that pink mouth, the
dignified way she’d
managed to straighten up at the end,
said she might be the
kind of pure gold every man sought.
That every Master
needed.
Chapter Four
When she got home that night, Rachel
took a thorough
shower, knowing it would be her last
one for a while. She
woke briefly in the early morning to
cal in a replacement to
her PT appointments and yoga
classes for the next two
days. Since she had two reliable
backups who were always
looking for extra money, they were
eager to take the slots
and didn’t ask her many questions,
letting her get off the
phone as quickly as possible. The
relief that she’d be
missing Dana’s appointment was
tangled with a
disappointment that only made her
more viciously ashamed
of herself.
For the next day and a half, she
buried herself under her
covers, left the TV on and slept. So
very, very tired, she
didn’t care about anything. But she’d
been down this road
before, and she knew how to manage
it. She’d give herself
the two days for uninterrupted
numbness and self-pity, but
on Day Three, she’d make herself get
up and resume her
life, no matter how impossible that
sounded from the dark
cocoon of her comforter right now.
Tears spil ed out now and again, as
she drifted back in
time and sobbed for al the losses that
had led to this, as if
the pain of what had happened at
Club More wasn’t
excruciating enough. Every time she
thought about it, she
cringed, trying to block the
humiliation and fear she’d felt.
Once, long ago, she’d cal ed her
cravings a harmless
fantasy. Not only had what she’d
experienced from Milo and
Natasha been far from harmless, but
in truth, the fantasy
that had driven her there had been
part of the barbs that
tore at the fabric of her marriage,
helping to unravel it.
She took aspirin and put compresses
on her face, but
more often than not, she just slept.
She thought about Jon,
cried about what he represented. Of
al the things she’d
have to face on Day Three, he was
the one that frightened
her most. Maybe she should go ahead
and take her ful two
weeks’ vacation. It wasn’t like she
was going to use it for
anything else. If she could afford it,
which she couldn’t,
she’d take a whole month. She
wished
alone with this. Fuck .”
Leland didn’t bother to suppress a
grim smile at the
sound of something crashing, perhaps
accidental y
knocked off a table—or knocked off
deliberately—and the
stream of curses that fol owed.
Despite the serious
circumstances, he wished he had a
recorder so he could
play this for the other guys of Jon’s
team who were used to
him being so irritatingly placid under
pressure. Now that he
figured the woman was in good
hands, Leland could enjoy
the break from pattern, though he was
smart enough not to
goad. Much.
“Try some of those ‘ohms’ you do,”
he said
encouragingly. “You know, that lotus
thing, with the fingers
al arranged in a circle.”
He chuckled as the phone
disconnected with a definitive
click, and replaced his own receiver.
Damn, it was late, and
he’d volunteered to take Ramirez’s
early shift tomorrow.
Maybe he’d get one of the guys to
drop him off at the
corner, so he could get some more
packaged nachos from
Raj. Checking his watch, he thought
he could stil catch the
two a.m. ESPN wrap-up, after al .
After tonight’s events, he thought
he’d be dreaming of the
curvy, perfect submissive he’d yet to
find. The one who
would wear his col ar and nothing
else to bed. He’d curl his
large body around her like a
protective panther and know
she was al his, one hand cupped
around her generous
breast, the nipple teasing his palm as
he nested his cock in
the crevice of her soft ass. They’d
dream the night away
together.
He hoped Jon was on the way to
finding a similar
treasure. Something in the serious
hazel eyes of the
blonde, the set of that pink mouth, the
dignified way she’d
managed to straighten up at the end,
said she might be the
kind of pure gold every man sought.
That every Master
needed.
Chapter Four
When she got home that night, Rachel
took a thorough
shower, knowing it would be her last
one for a while. She
woke briefly in the early morning to
cal in a replacement to
her PT appointments and yoga
classes for the next two
days. Since she had two reliable
backups who were always
looking for extra money, they were
eager to take the slots
and didn’t ask her many questions,
letting her get off the
phone as quickly as possible. The
relief that she’d be
missing Dana’s appointment was
tangled with a
disappointment that only made her
more viciously ashamed
of herself.
For the next day and a half, she
buried herself under her
covers, left the TV on and slept. So
very, very tired, she
didn’t care about anything. But she’d
been down this road
before, and she knew how to manage
it. She’d give herself
the two days for uninterrupted
numbness and self-pity, but
on Day Three, she’d make herself get
up and resume her
life, no matter how impossible that
sounded from the dark
cocoon of her comforter right now.
Tears spil ed out now and again, as
she drifted back in
time and sobbed for al the losses that
had led to this, as if
the pain of what had happened at
Club More wasn’t
excruciating enough. Every time she
thought about it, she
cringed, trying to block the
humiliation and fear she’d felt.
Once, long ago, she’d cal ed her
cravings a harmless
fantasy. Not only had what she’d
experienced from Milo and
Natasha been far from harmless, but
in truth, the fantasy
that had driven her there had been
part of the barbs that
tore at the fabric of her marriage,
helping to unravel it.
She took aspirin and put compresses
on her face, but
more often than not, she just slept.
She thought about Jon,
cried about what he represented. Of
al the things she’d
have to face on Day Three, he was
the one that frightened
her most. Maybe she should go ahead
and take her ful two
weeks’ vacation. It wasn’t like she
was going to use it for
anything else. If she could afford it,
which she couldn’t,
she’d take a whole month. She
wished
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