￼

Suncoast Society

Searching for a Heart

Maddison has a great job working in paradise. All she’s lacking is someone to share her life with. Except right now, she doesn’t really have time for romance…or so she tells herself. Until one phone call changes everything. Now she’s unemployed and living in her bestie’s spare bedroom.

Milo’s escaped a loveless marriage to a cheating wife and wants to soak up every ounce of knowledge about BDSM that he can absorb from his friends. Oh, and buy new furniture, since he doesn’t have any. He’ll probably never get married again. He doesn’t anticipate falling in love, but then again, he’s never met anyone like Maddison before.

With the Frightful Five’s blessings, Maddison finds herself drawn to the hunky, heartbroken guy, and things quickly heat up between them. But a rope scene isn’t a romance. When Maddison ends up fighting for her life, will Milo prove to her he’s her forever guy and the heart she’s always searched for?

Genres: BDSM, Contemporary

Length: 50,628

SEARCHING FOR A HEART

Suncoast Society

Tymber Dalton

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Siren Publishing, Inc.

www.SirenPublishing.com

A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

Searching for a Heart

Copyright © 2018 by Tymber Dalton

ISBN: 978-1-64243-373-9

First Publication: August 2018

Cover design by Harris Channing

All art and logo copyright © 2018 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

If you find a Siren-BookStrand e-book or print book being sold or shared illegally, please let us know at legal@sirenbookstrand.com

Siren Publishing, Inc.

www.SirenPublishing.com

DEDICATION

For Hubby, and for Sir. And special thanks to Michelle for the “baby Dom” line.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Tymber Dalton is the wild-child alter-ego of author Lesli Richardson. She lives in the Tampa Bay region of Florida with her husband (aka “The World’s Best Husband™”) and too many pets. Active in the BDSM lifestyle, the two-time EPIC award winner and part-time Viking shield-maiden loves to shoot skeet and play D&D with her friends. She’s also the bestselling author of over one hundred and fifty books and counting, including The Reluctant Dom, The Denim Dom, Cardinal’s Rule, the Suncoast Society series, the Love Slave for Two series, the Triple Trouble series, the Coffeeshop Coven series, the Good Will Ghost Hunting series, the Drunk Monkeys series, and many more.

She loves to hear from readers! Please feel free to drop by her website and sign up for her newsletter to keep abreast of the latest news, snarkage, and releases. You can also find all of her Siren-BookStrand releases under all four of her pen names on her author page on the BookStrand site.

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Author’s Note

This is book 80 in the Suncoast Society series.

Maddison is a woman, first and foremost. Please understand that there is a wide spectrum of experiences and situations regarding people who are trans. Maddison’s story is only one small facet of that. Her story is certainly a best-case scenario in many ways, but in no way is meant to represent every person’s experience, only hers.

Maddison was introduced in Court and Spark. This book is a direct sequel to that one. While you don’t need to read that one first to understand her story, it will give you more backstory about her character, as well as about Fen and Joel.

Milo was first introduced as a minor character back in A Roll of the Dice, and he’s made brief appearances in other books, such as Initiative and See You Sometime.

Fen and Joel first appeared in Reconsider Me, and again in Court and Spark.

Some of the characters in this book appear in or are featured in previous books in the Suncoast Society series. While most of the books in the Suncoast Society series are standalone works which may be read independently of each other, the recommended reading order to avoid spoilers and to not miss any backstory can be found on the Suncoast Society series page on my website at:

http://tymberdalton.com/books/series-info/suncoast-society/

TABLE OF CONTENTS

SEARCHING FOR A HEART

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

SEARCHING FOR A HEART

Suncoast Society

TYMBER DALTON

Copyright © 2018

Chapter One

You have got to be shitting me.

Maddison stared at the laptop on her desk as she tried to focus on her phone call. Mondays were supposed to be shitty, not Tuesdays. She’d been working on monthly reports when the phone call dropped a massive shit-bomb right into her lap.

“So, you see, you have to understand my position,” her caller said.

She struggled against the urge to launch her cell through her laptop screen. “No, I don’t understand your position at all, Mr. Gonzales,” she managed, keeping her tone low and steady.

Barely.

“Because they’re going for a new…brand. Not that you haven’t been doing a good job, because you have. You’re amazing. I promise I will give you a generous severance package, as well as a glowing recommendation.”

“I still don’t understand why I’m not being kept on.”

There was a slight hesitation, and that’s when she knew.

“My new partners have made it clear that their participation in this deal is dependent upon them installing a new resort manager from their existing portfolio of holdings.”

“Any particular reason why? If my performance has been so good, and since I already know the resort and employees, I’d think they’d want someone familiar with ops staying on board to run the resort. Especially through such a large transition.”

Oh, she suspected she could tie him up and try yanking his teeth out with a pair of pliers and he wouldn’t admit the truth. Not out loud, and definitely not around her.

Not and risk a lawsuit over it.

“The investors are bringing in another manager who’s overseen similar resort mergers and renovations,” he said just a little too quickly, like he’d planned it in advance.

Or been carefully coached.

She leaned back in her chair. “I see.”

“The new manager will be in town on Friday for an initial site visit. It’ll take him a week or two before he’s there full-time. We’ll want you to stay on for two weeks after that to help familiarize him. We’ll also give you six months’ severance pay, as well as pay out your unused leave, and we’ll pay one hundred percent of your health insurance premiums for a year, too, including the COBRA. In addition, you can continue to live at the resort in your current accommodations for up to six months, at no charge.”

Well, okay, that took a little of the sting out of it.

Barely.

There was one other thing, and what was he going to do, fire her for asking? “What about my bonus?”

“Same as last year, pro-rated to your last day of work.”

It was on the tip of her tongue to ask how badly he was worried about her suing the hell out of them. She decided fuck it, it wasn’t worth losing the war in the long run just to score points in one damn battle.

“Can you please send me an e-mail detailing all of this? For my records?” And so you don’t try to fuck me worse?

“Sure thing. As soon as we get off of here.”

“Thank you, Mr. Gonzales. I appreciate it.” Fuck you.

I don’t appreciate being asked to bend over and get dry-fucked and take it with a smile.

“Like I said, I will absolutely write you a glowing recommendation. If it were up to me, I’d keep you on, but…” He let the rest of his unspoken statement uncomfortably die over the connection.

But.

But they have the money and don’t want you there.

But.

But they don’t care you took the resort from in the red to the black in less than two years, poured your heart and soul into it, and now that it’s profitable again I’m leveraging that into a venture capital partnership to get money I can’t otherwise obtain.

But.

But you’re a woman.

Or, scratch that. It’s not even that you’re a woman, in their eyes.

“I’m guessing business continues as usual until he takes over then?” she finally asked after letting the jagged silence dangle between them for a fairly long time.

“Oh, yes. Absolutely. No difference there.”

She reached over and, on her laptop, tapped the icon for Word and started hunting for her resume file. “All right.”

Another, briefer, but just as uncomfortable silence.

Motherfucker didn’t even have the balls to face her in person to have this conversation. He couldn’t use distance as an excuse, because she knew damn well he was staying at his Miami condo this month, not even a mile away.

“Well, thank you again, Maddison. I’ll keep you posted. Have a good day.”

“Thank you.” Fuck you. “You, too.” Asshole.

She thumbed the end button and set her phone on the desk. Then she updated the contact info on her resume, added her latest job to it, and hit save.

I will not cry. I will not fucking cry.

She had busted her fucking ass to pull this resort out of the shitter. From overcoming crappy Yelp reviews to making filet mignon renovations on a ramen noodle budget, she’d literally done the impossible, much to the chagrin of her fellows all along that strip of prime ocean-front Miami Beach real estate. All who’d insisted the resort was well past its prime and should be bulldozed and new buildings put up in its stead.

Especially if they put in a woman who had very little real-world experience under her belt. But she’d made a deal when she first started to work there, accepting half the salary of anyone else who’d take the position, and if she didn’t get it running in the black in under five years, they’d have a bargain.

But if she did, they’d retroactively pay her double the salary, which was more in line with what someone in her position should be making.

And she’d done it.

She’d brought the resort back from the brink of financial ruin and turned it into a destination that was attracting not only domestic tourists, but overseas ones, as well. Not to mention international conferences had been booking their facilities, in several cases years in advance. Lucrative contracts that helped pad the bottom line even more.

And now?

They were done with her. She’d done the hard work.

She was certain there would be denials aplenty if she directly confronted any of them about it, but there was no way in hell anyone could convince her otherwise.

Gonzales had treated her…differently since finding out she was trans about six months ago. And she’d never forget the desperation in his voice when he’d talked to her before reps from the investment company had arrived for a walk-through a few weeks earlier, practically begging her not to say anything to them about her personal life.

Although, of course, he was smart enough not to couch it in those terms.

He was greedy, not stupid.

Well, fuck.

She needed a new job, a new place to live…

And I could really use a damn drink.

Except it was only ten o’clock in the morning, so that wasn’t an option.

* * * *

Maddison did not want to leave Florida. Her parents lived here. Her older sister lived here. Her best friend lived here. Her life was here.

Besides, Florida was one of the best places to apply her current job experience and degree. There were resorts all over the state, even inland, although she had the extra benefit of experience prepping for large storms on an ocean-front property.

Except she hadn’t earned her MBA like she’d originally planned. Hadn’t been in her budget or her energy levels after she’d withdrawn from UF and moved back to Sarasota, meaning she’d lost her scholarship.

She’d needed time to recover first.

She’d needed…

Her family, and Fen.

Sure, she’d made friends here in Miami, but very few of them knew the full truth about her, and most of that exclusive club only because they were also trans. The ones who were also trans, those she’d met in a support group sponsored by one of the local doctors who treated a large population of them in the Miami-Dade area.

She hadn’t found the nerve to try seriously dating, either. Despite a few nervous outings to a local private BDSM club, she’d stayed unattached. While straight, since she was single she preferred to play with women Tops, even though several men had hit on her at the club.

That horrible lesson was forever imprinted in her brain, that straight men could quickly turn on her.

Hurt her.

Destroy her ability to trust or allow people inside her defensive walls.

Which made it difficult for her to date men.

Thus, she didn’t date. She’d focused on work, on letting her career and results speak for itself.

Results she could proudly point at and say, look at what I did.

It was easier on her PTSD that way, too. She was rarely ever triggered at work. At work, she was the boss, she was in control. The worst times that triggered her lay in one-on-one situations, like dating.

Or the doctor’s office, although her primary physician here in Miami was very understanding and had noted in her file that a nurse had to remain in the room with her at all times to help keep her calm, and why.

By lunchtime, she’d posted her resume on two different job-hunting sites and was already perusing local listings. She’d be willing to take a pay cut if forced to, as long as the insurance benefits were adequate, and she could get free accommodations, too.

There was absolutely something to be said about not needing to worry about utilities, homeowner’s insurance, maintenance, repairs, or the other “joys” that came with being a renter or homeowner.

Plus it meant she had a two-minute walk and a very short elevator ride for her commute, and she was immediately available for any after-hours emergencies.

It’d allowed her to work on building a 401(k), at least, and putting aside money to eventually go back to college to earn her MBA.

Oh, shoot.

As soon as she told her parents about this, her dad would be showing up with a moving truck to haul her back to Sarasota, she just knew it.

If he did that, she wasn’t sure she’d have the strength to tell him no. Especially since he’d use the excuse that she could put her bonus and severance package toward tuition to go for her MBA, live at home rent-free while she went to school, and…

And…

That would mean her non-existent dating life would continue to be non-existent, because she wouldn’t be able to so much as go out with friends without him panicking about whether she was okay or not.

A month shy of twenty-seven was a little old to be answering to parental curfews, or suffering through parental cock-blocking, regardless of how loving their intentions.

I have got to find another job before I tell him I lost this one.

Hell, she’d need to find another job before she told Fen she lost this one, or he’d be ratting her out to her parents and helping them get her moved.

* * * *

By the time Maddison was ready to call it a day, she’d put out feelers around other resorts. She’d be willing to take a lesser position, working to make some other GM look good while she was the one doing the actual grunt work. That’s just how this played out sometimes.

But she needed a job, one with benefits.

At least she had a good excuse—new VC investors wanted their own person in place.

It meant she could keep all hints of her own personal situation out of the conversation.

Still, nothing. Not even a nibble, no rumors to pass to her about other local openings, no gossip that there was a resort in trouble that would probably hire her in to fix things before ousting an ineffective GM who’d been botching it.

Not that she thought she’d have an answer by the end of business today. Still, she’d hoped.

Would have made life easy for a damn change.

She retreated to her room. She lived in one of the one-bedroom efficiency suites on the third floor, meaning she had a small kitchen in her unit. Tonight she’d make a salad and top it with chicken breast. She’d been horrible about working out that week, and honestly? Her heart wasn’t in it tonight.

Another benefit of the resort, it had a great workout room. Well, courtesy of it being one of the first things she’d renovated.

You’re welcome.

Tonight she needed a little self-care. A long, hot soak in her bathtub—with a strawberry-scented bath bomb, a gift courtesy of Joel and Fen’s honeymoon visit just the other weekend.

The irony didn’t escape her that it was her gay male best friend who’d had to teach her the benefits of taking care of herself like this over the years. Educating her on bath and body products.

Refusing to let her skimp on some things.

Convincing her that she was worth it.

Sometimes, she couldn’t remember that by herself, no matter how hard she tried.

And as she sat there and soaked, the tears finally hit, hard and heavy. She’d worked her ass off, and all she really had to show for it was a “glowing recommendation.”

Fuckers.

She’d personally developed connections with tourist boards overseas in Europe and elsewhere, inviting them over for comped stays and helping them fall in love with the area. She’d instituted an aggressive social media campaign that had earned them valuable word-of-mouth advertising for literally zero cost in budget.

It’d been her work putting together new room decors that looked good, looked classy, without breaking their budget.

Added value.

But they didn’t value her enough to keep her on to run the place.

She wondered how long until the VC group bought Gonzales out, because she knew that was likely his endgame. Selling the resort out-right would have been difficult in today’s economy, but pulling in a VC partner wasn’t. Once they saw how to operate it and realized Gonzales wasn’t necessary to ops, it’d be easy for him to toss the management group a flat number for them to cash him out and tidy the bookkeeping.

If the VC group was backed by foreign interests from Russia or Eastern Europe—which many of them increasingly seemed to be—they could be looking for a money laundering opportunity and a partner would only complicate things.

It was that thought that finally helped her take a deep breath and calm down. Even if it turned out that, no, they were a totally legit and US-based company, she’d secretly hold on to the thought that they were a criminal organization and soothe her wounded pride with that.

Fuckers.

Maybe it really was a case of them wanting their own man at the helm. Especially if they weren’t on the up-and-up.

Deep breaths.

Up to this point, she’d thought the biggest worry she’d have would be searching for a man with a heart who could love her just the way she was.

Now…now she needed to search for a whole new job.

Chapter Two

Rusty’s barbarian stepped up to the orc and swung his battle axe at it, not killing it, but getting in a damned good hit.

Eliza’s war mage unleashed some pew-pew on the orc via Magic Missile, doing more damage.

Still not killing it.

Dammit.

By the time Axel got around to Milo’s initiative number, more of his NPCs had taken their turns, and now their party was battling four orcs instead of the one, and the original one had taken a swipe at Milo and fortunately fumbled, dropping his weapon.

Milo’s cleric cast Bull’s Strength on Rusty’s barbarian before turning his back to Eliza’s war mage to protect her six. He wielded the enchanted shield they’d looted from a cavern two game sessions ago. Which was two weeks ago in real time, and less than ten minutes in game time.

They didn’t know exactly what the shield did yet, because all he’d had time to do was check it and find out, yep, it was magic—good alignment magic—and it so far had kept him alive by warding off hits that should have either seriously injured him or even killed him.

Including possibly causing the orc’s fumble, but Axel wouldn’t reveal that information to them yet. They’d have to figure it out for themselves.

Axel was about to call for them to roll initiative for the next round when his cell phone sounded, the wheezing sound of the TARDIS taking off filling the room.

“Aaaaannnnd that’s a good place to stop,” Axel said with a smile. “See you all next Tuesday.”

“Sadist.” Rusty looked close to pouting.

Axel’s grin widened. “Your point being?”

Skye knowingly giggled. She was Axel’s fiancée.

Darryl’s teenaged son, Kyle, bid everyone good-night and left the room, heading for his own room. They played at Grant, Darryl, and Susie’s house every week.

Eliza dropped her voice, her question directed at Axel. “You guys coming Saturday night?”

Milo didn’t miss how both Skye and Axel glanced his way before silently staring at Eliza.

He’d had enough of this.

“Y’all do realize I know y’all are kinky and go to that BDSM club, right?” Milo softly asked. “It’s not exactly a secret to me.”

Both Skye and Axel blushed, as did Mike Kennedy, Darryl, and Susie, but Eliza arched an eyebrow at Milo. “And?”

“And it doesn’t bother me.” He tipped his head from side to side, trying to crack his neck. “Frankly, maybe I need to talk to y’all about helping me date. I’m striking out on my own.”

Not that he’d been trying super-hard, since his divorce wasn’t final yet and he hadn’t wanted to drag someone else through that, but he definitely wasn’t having good luck.

Eliza’s gaze softened. “Sorry. How is all that going?”

“Final hearing’s Friday morning.” He closed his Player’s Handbook a little harder than he meant to. “Finally.”

“How long has she dragged this out?” Rusty asked.

“Too fucking long. Nearly two years now. Trying to stay on my insurance plan as long as possible. Judge finally told her he was done dicking around, and if she tried any more delay tactics, he’d hold her in contempt of court.”

“She finally get all her shit out?” Grant asked.

“I finally got all her shit out,” Milo said. “My brother and sister-in-law helped me go through the house and move everything four weeks ago. We waited until she showed up at her new place after work one day, backed the truck up to her front door, and unloaded everything into her living room. Bitch complained she wasn’t ready for it. Told her that wasn’t my problem. Judge took a swipe at her for that, too, that I didn’t have to do that. Reminded her that anything left after the official date in the agreement meant I could have sold it or burned it.”

“I would have,” Eliza muttered.

“Yeah, well, believe me, it crossed my mind. Except I can look back at all this with a clear conscience. She can tell her numerous boyfriends any lies she wants to about me, but I know the truth. That’s all I care about.”

“So what are you doing Saturday night?” Grant asked. Of their triad—him, Darryl, and Susie—Grant was obviously in charge, even though Darryl was legally married to Susie.

“Getting hammered,” Milo groused. “And burning a copy of our marriage license on the fucking barbecue.”

“Come on out and have dinner with us,” Eliza said. “We’ll introduce you to friends. And you can come to the club with us after dinner. If nothing else, you’ll understand some of our inside jokes a little better. We’ll come pick you up and even buy you dinner. Keep you out half the night.”

Part of him wanted to say no, and had spoken up only because them walking on eggshells around him and John, who wasn’t even here tonight because of work, had finally stepped on his last nerve through no fault of their own.

It was needing the divorce over with for good that had truly put him into this unusually foul mood.

“Sure.” He nodded. “Yeah, sure. I’d like that. Been a long time since I’ve been able to go out and really enjoy myself.”

“Uh oh.” Skye giggled. “I believe we’re looking at the next contestant for the Frightful Five. Come on down!”

“The what?”

Everyone else laughed, but it was the kindly, knowing chuckles of friends who, in some cases, had known him since high school.

“You’ll see,” Rusty said. “Just be careful what you wish for, because Eliza and the gang will have you married off before you know it.”

“Not sure I ever want to get married again. I just lost nearly half my fucking retirement due to that bitch playing me. She could have not asked for it and admitted she cheated on me, but no, because that would have been the human thing to do. Fucking community property, no-fault state.”

“Sorry.” Eliza hugged him. “We’ll pick you up about six, but we’re volunteering this Saturday night, so it’ll be a late one. Closing’s at two.”

“That’s fine. I need to get out of the house.”

Skye offered him a hug, which ended up turning into a group hug with Milo firmly wedged in the center.

“You realize,” Rusty said from somewhere, “that you just got made into a pet project, right?”

Milo laughed. “Yeah. At this point, I’m so miserable, I honestly don’t even mind.”

* * * *

Nothing but an empty house to greet Milo when he arrived home thirty minutes later. At some point he’d look into replacing the furniture that she’d ended up with. Including a few pieces she hadn’t wanted, but he hadn’t wanted them either—because she’d picked them out—so she got them anyway.

It would be nice to have a damn couch, though.

Okay, so that’ll be the first thing I buy.

He wanted to try them out first. Last one had been picked out by her, and he’d honestly hated it. Wasn’t comfortable to sit on or lie on, but she’d wanted it to go with their “decor.”

At the time, he’d wanted to make her happy.

Never again.

Fuck that noise.

He wanted to be able to stretch out and watch TV, or relax eating dinner in front of the TV, or have friends over to chat or play games, or whatever.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had people over to his house who weren’t family.

She hadn’t liked having people in “her” space.

Unless they were her friends…or she was fucking them behind his back, apparently.

Or unless they were people she liked or approved of.

Why the fuck did I put up with her again?

Six years of his life was six years too damned long. Well, seven years counting the year they dated.

Should’ve moved her in with me first before marrying her.

He would never make that mistake again. He’d damn sure live with someone for a while first—after getting an iron-clad written contract of some sort from them—before he’d even think about marrying them.

And if they didn’t want to sign a prenup, forget it.

I’m going to be forty-three in three months and I’m basically starting over again.

At least he was still young enough he could rebuild his retirement accounts. And with the judge done playing around with her bullshit, it meant his nightmare was almost over.

Not liking dogs should have been a clue.

He headed for the shower. He’d gone to gaming straight from work today. This morning he’d hit the gym before work. Usually, he went after work. That had developed both as a coping mechanism as well as an escape tactic.

Had nothing to do with the potshots she’d taken about his waistline a few years ago.

That was a lie he’d keep telling himself. Especially since now he wasn’t bad-looking for a guy almost forty-three—if the looks he was getting from men and women at the gym were any indication. Wasn’t that he’d been obese, but he’d admittedly been soft. In the years since he’d started working out five days a week, his weight had only dropped twenty-five pounds, but he’d converted his flab into muscle. Not a pumped bodybuilder, just a deceptively solid guy.

Except it didn’t help him much in terms of dating, so far. Oh, he’d had a few dates with relatively attractive and interesting women who didn’t ping his emotional radar in the slightest. Not to mention the last thing he’d wanted to do was seriously buckle down and look for a relationship while still trying to get divorced. That wasn’t fair, to put someone else through his misery.

Hence why he wasn’t too proud to talk to his friends about this tonight, now that the finish line to his divorce was firmly in sight and almost within his grasp.

Was he kinky?

Well, maybe not to their extent, but he was definitely a few steps shy of vanilla. He had a few…fantasies.

Vanilla with sprinkles, perhaps. Was that a thing?

He opted to rub one out under the spray, taking his cock firmly in hand and stroking. But on the tail end of his orgasm, he leaned against the shower wall with his eyes closed and tried not to feel so…

Empty.

His life, his heart…

Even his damned house.

He felt empty.

Maybe I should think about getting a dog.

Chapter Three

Friday morning, Maddison was helping man the front desk because their computer network had gone down and their IT guy was scrambling to fix it. It wasn’t just the front desk impacted, either, but their whole system.

Meanwhile, Mads was running their resort’s reservation system and processing credit cards with her laptop and a data hot-spot through her personal cell phone. She’d raced back to her office when she’d received the panicked call from the front desk, realized her browser was still on the resort’s admin login page so she had the web address for their portal, and she was able to access it with her own login…which unfortunately meant whoever was using her computer had access to everything.

Meaning until their tech guy got the system’s Internet connection and network problem fixed and got them back online, her ass was tethered to the front desk so they could keep checking people out and in.

Housekeeping was also a mess right now, because the head of housekeeping hadn’t printed their daily sheets yet when the outage occurred. But the woman found old pre-computer forms in her file cabinet, photocopied them, and adjusted the department’s procedures on the fly so as not to delay turning rooms over ahead of a busy weekend. The restaurants had gone old-school, keeping paper tabs to charge tickets to rooms once the computers came up, or accepting cash only for those not staying on-site and sending customers to the ATM in the lobby to get cash for their bill.

At least it was something to take Maddison’s mind off worrying about the guy who was supposed to be arriving sometime today.

The new manager.

Her damned replacement.

Figured it’d be today of all fucking days, their busiest check-in day of the week. The universe wasn’t even allowing her to keep her damn dignity. Nope, had to be a fubar of all fubars, while Darren was up to his armpits in the server closet trying to figure out why they had no Internet connection and no network.

Gonzales didn’t have the new guy’s name to give her, but the man would know to ask for her. She also hadn’t told anyone what was going on yet. She’d been asked to keep that quiet, for now.

Sure, why the hell not? She didn’t want to jeopardize her severance package—and Gonzales had sent her the promised follow-up e-mail detailing everything he’d discussed with her on the phone.

Yes, including a glowing letter of recommendation outright stating if it was up to him, he’d keep her on as GM, but that his new partners wanted their own person in place.

That meant she had it in writing.

It also meant she’d pull on her big-girl panties and keep them—and her professional smile—firmly in place, even though inside she was torn between a mixture of wanting to rage and cry her eyes out.

I should call Fen tonight and tell him what’s going on.

She needed to vent.

Maybe he wouldn’t tell her parents.

Then again, maybe pigs will fly.

She kept holding on to the hope that Gonzales had signed on with some international criminal enterprise and would regret letting her go.

Maybe not the most mature way to approach it, but it was better than envisioning revenge fantasies of wiping all the computer records before her last day on-site.

Resetting the keycard system to key all rooms the same, or not let anyone’s key cards work.

Scrambling Housekeeping’s records.

Setting the grounds’ sprinklers to run in the middle of the day.

Set all the elevators to always return to the very top floor and stay there, even in peak usage times.

Changing the prices on all the top-shelf liquors to twenty-five cents a shot.

Put parental lock codes on all the satellite channels except for PBS…

No, no no. Bad Mads.

Of course she wouldn’t do any of that. She was a professional.

Still, it gave her a little bit of evil satisfaction to imagine doing it.

And of course a literal busload of seniors from some retirement community up near Tampa chose that moment to arrive, when they weren’t supposed to be there until at least three. Hell, she didn’t even have any way of knowing if their rooms were ready yet or not.

Terrific.

That meant an extra level of frustration for everyone, having to keep radioing head of Housekeeping to find out what rooms had been turned already, if they hadn’t been vacant the day before.

Darren hustled out of the back office. “Try booting the workstations now. Make sure they’re powered down first to do a hard restart.”

“On it,” Ka’nali said. She was the daytime desk manager, had worked there just over a year, and until all this shit happened, Maddison had been considering promoting her to be her assistant general manager, because she currently didn’t have one. In a cost-cutting measure and to slim down the dead weight on the staff, Maddison hadn’t hired a new one when the one working there upon her hiring quit in protest of Maddison’s hiring, all because she hadn’t been promoted into the position.

Which had been a good-riddance situation, because the woman had been worthless at her job and one of the larger problems the resort had to start with. Ivy, the administrative assistant who helped coordinate between departments, had sort of become Maddison’s assistant manager in a way, but she didn’t want an official promotion.

Lord knew Maddison had tried to talk her into one.

But Ka’nali was smart, motivated, reliable, and a self-starter. She was also a single mother whose son had just started fifth grade, and she couldn’t work weekends.

Maddison had been thinking about offering her a free suite as one of the perks to get her on board with the new job.

Guess that’s all shot to hell now.

It’d be cruel for her to even mention it just to have the new management team yank it from her.

Hopefully Ka’nali and Shona and all the others would still have jobs in a few weeks.

One of the first things Maddison had done when she’d come on board was weed out the low-performing staff dragging everyone else down. Now, even when short-handed, their department teams could fill in for each other, multi-task. They worked well together, took pride in their jobs and in the resort. She’d done a lot to lift the staff’s morale while in charge.

Including getting them raises that helped them feel more invested in the resort’s future.

I hope the new team doesn’t fuck it all up.

Then again, in a few weeks, it wouldn’t be her problem any longer.

Ka’nali let out a happy squeal as the first workstation came up. “I’m in!”

“Excellent. Shona, take that station. Ka’nali, get the rest of them going, please.”

Darren pumped his fist. “Yes! I had to block a DDoS attack trying to brute force its way in. Isolated the IP addresses hammering our server and blocked the range. Then I upgraded the—”

“That’s awesome, but you can give me the deets later. Can you please get the restaurants up next, then Housekeeping?”

“Oh, sure! On it.” He hustled off toward the more casual restaurant, which also handled the pool-side bar and breakfast buffet and was currently busier.

Shona took over at the workstation that was running, while Ka’nali worked on rebooting another one. Maddison kept working on her laptop, trying to slog through the backlog of customers queued at their check-in desk.

They were almost caught up when a handsome guy with broad shoulders, a haircut as expensive as the watch on his wrist, and wearing a heavy gold necklace, matching gold bracelet, and a pinky ring, which all screamed flaming douchebag, stepped up to the desk.

He offered her a smile as his green eyes swept over her. “Hello, there. I’m looking for Maddison Nance?”

Her stomach hit the floor. Flaming douchebag was the guy, she felt certain of it.

And he’d been standing in line for about fifteen minutes.

Fanfuckingtastic.

But she forced a smile. “I’m Maddison. Can I help you?”

“Mr. Gonzales said he mentioned I was stopping by today.”

“Oh, sure. Hold on for just a minute.” Maddison made sure to save where she was, double-checked that everyone was still online and accessing the system, and then closed her laptop and disconnected it from the key card encoder. “Follow me.” She led him behind the counter and through the back office, down the hallway leading to her office. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

“Jordan Holmes, from EVC Management Corps, LLC.”

Of course he was. She shook with him, then closed her office door behind him and pointed to the chair in front of the desk while she rounded it to sit in her chair.

It was still her office, dammit. He could wait to sit behind her desk until after she left.

“That was quite a line out there,” he noted.

“Our IT guy said our server went down because of a DDoS attack, but he got us back up and running.”

“How were you processing guests?”

She patted her laptop. “Fast thinking, and a damn good cell phone plan.”

“You don’t have a contingency plan for processing guests?”

“You just saw it. Run the front desk from a laptop and cellphone.”

His gaze narrowed. “But why were you doing it?”

It was tempting to tell the guy to go fuck himself, but she refrained. “They called me when the system went down, and I was already logged into our system. I used my own cell phone. But my laptop was logged in as admin, and we were too busy for me to stop and risk not being able to get back into the system. In other words, if it’s working, keep it working until everyone’s checked in. The encoder software is on my laptop, too, so we were able to run keys.”

“Ah.” He sat back. “Sorry. Wasn’t trying to put you on the spot.”

“Sure you were.” She sighed. “Look, I’m going to be honest that I’m not happy I worked my ass off to save this place, and you’re getting to step in and take over a well-run operation.”

“I can appreciate that. Thank you for mentioning that, by the way. I wasn’t sure how to broach the subject.”

She studied him. “Really?”

“Really. I saw the financials. You did a damned good job. Frankly, I’m hoping you’ll stay on past the initial period. They want me to run this place, and one in Ft. Lauderdale they’re also buying to rehab. I’ll need all the help I can get.”

She wasn’t sure if she should feel rage or relief, and opted for cool professionalism. “I’d be open to discussing it,” she offered, not wanting to piss the guy off.

Yet.

He smiled, and maybe he wasn’t as douchey as she’d first thought. He was kind of cute. “Excellent.”

“Well, where did you want to start?” she asked.

“I want to know how you did it.”

“Did what?”

“Saved this place.” He smiled again, obviously eyeing her, his gaze lingering on her cleavage for far too long. “You’re a lot younger than I was expecting. Gonzales didn’t say much about you, except what he was paying you and what you’d accomplished.”

He still rode that razor’s edge between complimentary and condescending.

She chose the high road. “I gave a damn.” She shrugged. “I gave a damn about the people working here, the place itself, the guests. I spent my first two days personally talking to everyone on staff to see what they thought. What was working, what wasn’t. Who was working and who wasn’t. I looked through customer comments on review sites. I looked for the strengths and how to quickly emphasize them. For example, our head chef. Did you know he was trained at Le Cordon Bleu?”

“No shit?”

“No shit. And the previous manager had basically given him a generic, discount food service menu to follow. Lots of crap you can find elsewhere for cheaper and better. I told him to look at the clientele and their average budget, and give me six signature dishes that wouldn’t break our bottom end but could wow a crowd and be created en masse, and then another ten simpler ones, to build our new menu around. Not counting breakfast buffet, and the lunch fare like salads, soups, and sandwiches. He put his heart into it and, three weeks later, he won an award from the Miami Herald for it. That brought us some immediate customers. It was an unexpected bonus. I used our ‘award-winning cuisine’ as a selling point when I started courting tourism boards…”

They spent the next hour talking about the “hows.” But she still wasn’t sure about Jordan Holmes.

Turned out he was originally from Massachusetts, but had spent the past fifteen years out in California, running resorts there.

“So you gave immediate function discounts to local groups to have their events here and undercut the competition.” He grinned. “That’s very cut-throat. I love it.”

She shrugged. “What better way to start earning customers than have social movers and shakers in the Miami-Dade area see that we can serve a lot better than rubber chicken. I was able to talk three different Rotary groups into having their weekly meetings here, too. We host a monthly business card exchange for the Chamber of Commerce. Build goodwill and that will overcome a multitude of sins, Mr. Holmes.”

“So it would seem.”

“Meanwhile, we started renovating rooms. The beds were fine, so I only replaced the top-end suite beds, at first, and gave the rooms fresh paint and flooring.”

“Because the top-dollar spenders talk.”

“Exactly. Then started freshening the low-end rooms next.”

“Because they rent first and most frequently.”

“Yep.”

He studied her for a moment and she didn’t try to fill the silence with nervous chatter. She was beyond that, had learned the benefits of watching and waiting.

“Which brings me back to what I saw when I was standing in line earlier,” he finally said.

“Upgrading the tech was on my list to do later this summer, right after Labor Day. So we’d have that lull between end of summer and before snowbirds start arriving.”

“What about storms and hurricanes?”

“We have an emergency generator system. Normally, the computers would have worked off the local server, and then batched everything up to the cloud once the Internet came back on. Darren is good at what he does. You’d do well to keep him on board and follow his plan for upgrades at the end of summer. It’s already budgeted in. But for the price of completely redoing the entire system—including the food service and housekeeping departments, which have to be integrated—I could refresh two hundred rooms. I decided the priority was getting customers in the door and keeping them happy, and that the system could wait.”

“Can’t say I disagree with you, looking at it like that.”

“Are you familiar at all with Miami, Mr. Holmes?”

“Please, call me Jordan. And can’t say that I am. I’ve been here a couple of times.”

She ignored the familiarity. “Are you staying here? And how long will you be here?”

“Yes, check-out late Monday. I wanted to see how a weekend flows.”

“Smart.”

“Not my first rodeo, although the more I talk with you, the more likely I am to go back to my bosses and tell them you should stay exactly where you are, at your current salary and title.”

Maddison swallowed back the hope trying to climb its way up her throat. That was the fastest way to get herself heartbroken. “And my bonus?”

He nodded. “Of course.”

“I wouldn’t be averse to discussing that. When are we telling the staff?”

“Not yet. You can tell everyone I’m a consultant from a VC group wanting to examine your ops to see how you do things so we can take a look at instituting some changes at our own properties. That’s not a lie.”

“It’s not the truth.”

“I don’t want the brown-nosing version of everyone. I want the real-life version.” He plucked at the perfect crease along his left thigh, giving it a little tug and straightening it, and something about the gesture sent butterflies through her. “Even from you.”

“Me?”

“How old are you?”

He had to have that info already, but she said it. “Almost twenty-seven.”

Jordan leaned forward, those green eyes sharply focused on her. “I’m forty-eight. I’ve seen resorts that were larger than this one and not floundering nearly as badly still nosedive off a cliff when given twice the time and three times the budget to turn them around. This was your first such job like this one, right out of college, and you not only turned it around on a shoestring, you more than doubled the value of the holding. I want to know how…you…did…it.”

He deliberately softened his voice and spaced out the last four words, and she knew. This guy was a Dom, or at least naturally dominant.

I’m soooo fucked. She would absolutely have to be on her guard against this guy. He damn sure didn’t look like he was almost fifty.

“During college, I worked for a high-end resort in Sarasota. I did everything from cleaning rooms, to staffing the front desk, to bussing tables. I’ve handled event planning, from intimate wedding parties of less than two dozen people, to award banquets of a thousand plates or more. The owner was a friend of my best friend’s father, and he took me under his wing when he found out I was going for a business degree. His resort regularly hosts high-end events and clientele, including some Hollywood A-listers I couldn’t name if you begged me, because of the NDA I signed.”

She clasped her hands in front of her on her desk and leaned in. “So the secret, Mr. Holmes, is that I learned every part of ops from the ground up, view every single employee as indispensable to giving our guests the optimum experience possible, teach all of them as part of our employment culture how valuable they are, and I never take a single thing for granted. I don’t hire the cheapest help possible, because you short-change the guests. A resort won’t stand on its own if you build it on a base of toothpicks.”

His gaze narrowed a little, even as his smile widened again. “Still won’t call me Jordan, hmm?”

“Let me get to know you better, and then we’ll see.”

He slowly nodded. “What are you doing for dinner tonight, Maddison?”

“Why? Are you asking me out on a date?”

He smiled, and it looked less douchey now. “That would be risking a sexual harassment lawsuit. How about we call it a working dinner off-property? My treat.”

“Deductible expense.”

His smile both widened and turned sexy. “Of course it is.” He had gorgeous green eyes, and not a hint of grey in his brown hair, but she didn’t know if that was natural or a secret shared only with his hair stylist. “Your choice. I’ll trust your judgment on where we eat.”

“You will, hmm?”

“Absolutely. I’d love to see Miami from your point of view.”

She studied him. “All right. I’m in room 321. Pick me up at seven.”

“How should I dress?”

“However you want, Mr. Holmes.”

Chapter Four

Friday morning, Milo stood inside the courthouse foyer with his attorney, Ed Payne. He was seriously considering hitting a liquor store after leaving the courthouse, since he’d burned a personal leave day to handle this bullshit.

He wasn’t exactly in a mood to socialize with anyone tonight, either.

Linda was nowhere to be seen, of course. He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not, considering his current burn-down-the-world mood.

“Don’t worry,” Ed said. “Doesn’t matter if she shows or not. This is the final hearing. You’ll leave here divorced.”

“I fucking hope so,” Milo muttered. “I’m sick of this shit. I want her out of my life. Only reason she stalled things was because she’s too cheap-ass to buy her own health insurance. Which she shouldn’t be since she just fucking soaked me for twenty thousand dollars that wasn’t hers to start with.”

Ed patted him on the shoulder. “That’s why I offer a free prenup with every divorce I handle. Because while I like earning a living, I don’t like seeing people get fucked over. Especially clients. With a prenup, you don’t have to worry as much.”

“I’ll take you up on that if I ever decide to stab myself in the heart and balls and get married again.”

“You’d be surprised how many clients I’ve heard say that, too, and yet still get married again. When the right one comes along, you’ll know.”

“I’ll settle for a pleasant dinner companion at this point. Fuck marriage.”

Linda’s attorney finally showed up ten minutes before their hearing was supposed to start.

“Sorry I’m running late, I got caught up in traffic.”

“Is your client appearing?” Ed asked him.

“No, she’s out of town.”

“That figures,” Milo muttered. “Probably on vacation with my money.”

Ed shot him a sharp glare but didn’t scold him aloud.

Once they were called into Judge Donnelly’s chambers, the judge quickly scanned through the latest round of paperwork and looked at Ed. “We satisfied, counsellor?”

“Not hardly, but we have no legal objections at this point. My client wishes to bring this to an end.”

The judge looked at Linda’s attorney. “Where is your client?”

“Um, out of town, your Honor.”

Milo didn’t need the glance Ed sent his way to remain silent.

Under the table, however, where Milo’s hands rested in his lap, he shot double birds at the other attorney.

The judge gave the attorney a less-than-impressed glance and returned his focus to Ed. “Anything else we need to handle before I issue final judgment?”

“No, your Honor, that’s it.”

“Counsel for defendant?”

“We’re good, your Honor. You have the paperwork for her name change there.”

“Okay. Then I hereby declare you divorced.” He signed the copies of the orders and returned the paperwork to Ed and the other attorney. “There you go, Mr. Richter, and good luck in your future endeavors.”

“Thank you, your Honor.”

Twenty minutes later, Milo sat in his car and stared at the certified copy Ed had filed for him with the clerk’s office immediately after the hearing. There would be more paperwork arriving by mail next week, but this was the important thing.

After all this bullshit, after all her stalling and gaslighting, after all her cheating, he was no longer tethered to her. Any minor details, Ed would handle for him as part of his fee, so Milo no longer needed to have contact with her.

I’m free.

And the damn bitch couldn’t even be bothered to show up for it.

He went into his phone and blocked her number, which gave him minor satisfaction.

He’d take it.

* * * *

Milo stopped by a couple of furniture stores on the way home and tried out a few sofas, but didn’t like any of them. At six-five, it wasn’t just a matter of having a big sofa. He wanted one with a recliner section, and didn’t want his feet sticking off the end by a mile. He also wanted to be able to stretch out on it to watch TV, or comfortably fall asleep on it, if he so chose.

Able to feel like he was actually at home in his own home.

Unlike with Linda, who’d wake his ass up and make him go into the bedroom to nap because she couldn’t stand him being happy, apparently.

Never again.

Maybe he’d live with someone, but he wasn’t getting married again. No way in hell he’d do that to himself. It wasn’t worth it.

He did make it home without plundering a liquor store, though, so he viewed that as a win.

Maybe his house was relatively empty, but it was his fucking house, and he no longer had to worry about whether or not Linda had sex with someone on the same sofa he would eventually purchase for himself.

For dinner he reheated the last portion of spaghetti he had left over from a batch he’d made Wednesday night. Then he plopped himself down in the folding camping chair now sitting in front of his flat-screen TV—which was mounted on the living room wall—and ate while channel surfing.

She got most of the furniture, but he kept all the electronics. Which suited him just fine, because he’d picked them out, not her. It was one thing he’d stood his ground on.

Let her go figure out what to buy and how to hook the new shit up. She could barely get her phone charger plugged in correctly.

The thought of her trying to fumble cables and figure out connections made him giggle sadistically.

Plus, now he didn’t have to worry about DVRing stuff to watch later because she had shows she wanted to watch. God forbid they actually sat down together and watched something he wanted to see.

Sometimes, he wondered if she picked shows and declared she wanted to watch them, even if she had no interest in them, just so he had to record whatever it was he wanted to watch.

It felt like it.

Had he known the full extent of her fuckery sooner, he would have tossed her out on her ass and let one of her boyfriends take care of her.

Thank god she didn’t give me anything.

Maybe her sob stories about bad luck with asshole exes wasn’t such a coincidence after all.

Maybe there was a common denominator.

Maybe she was the common denominator.

He’d already changed the locks and reprogrammed the garage door opener clicker, as well as wiped all the codes from the alarm system and changed everything.

Everything.

Every password he’d ever had that he thought she might be able to figure out got changed.

He’d also changed his will and life insurance, just in case. Not that he thought she was that kind of psycho, but who knew?

Better to not take the chance at all.

Then there was the fact that he kept waffling between going tomorrow night and calling Rusty and Eliza to cancel.

Maybe he shouldn’t be out among people right now. Not with his anger bubbling so close to the surface where anything could set him off. It wasn’t anyone’s fault but Linda’s—and his own for putting up with it for so damned long. Was it really fair to subject others to his bad mood? Especially people he was meeting for the first time? Setting up a bad impression with others right off the bat and reflecting badly on his friends?

After eating he cleaned up the kitchen and spread out his D&D stuff on the counter to read through some combat rules ahead of next week’s game. Something else he couldn’t do before, just spread out and be in his own house. By now, Linda would have already been griping at him about it.

Griping about the one fucking night a week he did something for himself and him not around to do whatever it was she wanted done. One fucking night a week he wasn’t around at her beck and call, while she pretty much ignored him the other six nights when he was there for her.

There to ignore him, unless, of course, it was a night she went out to screw around on him. “Drinks with the girls” was her favorite excuse, until one of those “girls” Linda had been using as her alibi got wise to her bullshit and texted Milo about it.

Which was what had started his Sherlock Holmes-worthy investigation of her and her supposed “girls’ nights.”

He’d never understood why she ran hot and cold before. In retrospect, it made perfect sense. She wanted him around and under her thumb…until she wanted him out of her way so she could play without getting caught.

Yes, he’d already had several STI testing rounds, just to make sure.

Something else that pissed him off at a visceral level, that she might have possibly endangered his health over her philandering. And that he had to spend the money to have them done in the first place.

Normally, he was a fairly in-charge kind of guy. He’d stepped back and given that up with Linda, because he’d been in love with her. Wasn’t that what you were supposed to do when you were in love?

Maybe that’s the problem. Maybe Eliza and all of them have the right idea.

Maybe what he should have done was stayed true to himself instead of trying to bury who he was.

He didn’t want to control every single little aspect of someone’s life. He just wanted things the way he wanted them.

Wanted to know his partner wasn’t cheating on him.

Wanted someone as a partner who made him feel wanted, not like he was in their way until she wanted something from him.

Fuck.

Yeah, the pattern was right there when he looked back on it all now.

Adding insult to injury, now he had to rebuild his retirement account. It still enraged him, but there wasn’t anything to do about it now except try to move on.

Maybe having someone to spank wouldn’t be a bad thing. Help me burn off a little bit of anger.

Linda had been vanilla in bed, though. He’d never pushed for more, because he didn’t want to be an asshole.

He’d been raised that gentlemen treated ladies like ladies, and didn’t want to do things like tie them to the bed and blindfold them.

They definitely didn’t want to spank them.

Except…now he knew it was perfectly fine if the woman wanted all of that, too.

I need to go. I need to get back out there and out of my head. If I stay home, all I’m going to do is sit here and stew and feel pissed off.

And he’d already wasted too much of his life doing just that.

Chapter Five

Jordan knocked on Maddison’s door at 6:55 p.m., and she’d forgive that. She suspected he was the kind who preferred to drive, too.

She let him in and didn’t miss how he obviously looked around while she went to grab her purse. He’d changed into designer jeans, loafers, and a button-up short-sleeved shirt.

“This isn’t an ocean-view suite, is it?”

“No. I prefer a westerly view. I like sunsets. And we can charge more for the ocean view.” She pointed out the window. “Besides, this one stares directly into the ten-story condo building they erected across the street two years ago, so it’s not much of a view. It’s the only lower-floor suite with a completely crappy view. That’s why I picked it.”

“Ah.” He nodded. “Again, I find myself marveling at your logic.”

She smirked, feeling a little satisfied, at least. “Ready to see Miami, Mr. Holmes?”

“After you.”

Probably so he can stare at my ass.

But she didn’t say that.

Maddison checked in with the front desk to make sure they were doing okay. She had her work cell with her in case there was a problem.

Once the valets had retrieved his rental and brought it around, she was pleasantly surprised when he held the passenger door open for her. She directed him back to the causeway to head to the mainland.

“How’d you end up in Miami, anyway?” he asked.

“A fresh business degree and over five years’ experience working in a resort. I negotiated a salary Mr. Gonzales couldn’t turn down, so he wasn’t losing anything by giving me a shot. We both won.”

“He speaks very highly of you.”

Usually, Maddison could read people better than she was with this guy. Less doucheball vibe from him now, but despite him being nearly twice her age she definitely wasn’t getting a dad vibe from him. She also couldn’t tell how much personal information he knew about her. She knew Gonzales likely wouldn’t have told anyone from the VC company she was trans, because he’d been desperate to keep that quiet.

“Thank you. I know he took a risk on me, but I worked my ass off to turn the resort around.”

“I know you did. I’ve combed through the financials. So where are we going?”

“You’ll see. A little place the locals told me about. Amazing food. I love eating there.”

She directed him to a public parking area just off Calle Ocho in Little Havana, not far from a restaurant she’d eaten at countless times since arriving in Miami. Holmes did a good job of hiding his surprise when they reached the corner cafeteria’s front door and he opened it for her.

The tiny place had five tables and an L-shaped dining counter, in addition to their take-out window. By eleven they’d have a line out the door of people either leaving a nightclub to head for another—or heading somewhere else—to buy cafecitos, looking for the jolt they’d need to keep going until sunrise.

But until eight they served a full dinner menu.

“Do you trust me, Mr. Holmes?”

He smirked. “I put myself in your capable hands. I’ll try anything once.”

From the way his gaze held hers, she could almost read a lot into that statement and she floundered for a moment, wondering if it was a deliberate double entendre.

When the woman manning the counter greeted them, Maddison ordered in Spanish and Holmes handed over a black Amex to pay.

Which impressed the hell out of Maddison.

He’d been watching her, too, because when her gaze caught his again, the lines at the corners of his eyes deepened just a hair, amusement right there.

Dammit.

Usually she was better about keeping herself completely professional, but he was managing to hit all her buttons perfectly.

They sat at the table in the back to await their order.

“I will admit I’m a little surprised by your choice,” he said. “I’m guessing you’re imparting a message?”

“You’ll see.”

A few minutes later, their order was up, and she was again pleasantly surprised when he stayed Maddison with a raised hand and stood to fetch their trays himself. She’d ordered several dishes, enough for them to share everything.

He set them down and retook his seat. Sweeping his hands out, he indicated their food. “I’m all ears.”

“I figured we could share.” She smiled and pointed. “Ropa vieja, a staple of Cuban cuisine. Picadillo, made traditionally, with olives and raisins. Arroz con pollo, also known as chicken and yellow rice, and black beans on the side. Real Cuban bread, not the shitty baguettes the grocery stores try to sell from their own bakeries, and yes, it does matter. Do not skimp on the Cuban bread in Miami, or any locals who stay with you will totally roast you on Yelp. And fried plátanos. With a side of cafecito.” She held up the tiny cup. “Hope you weren’t planning on sleeping tonight.”

He picked up the other cup and they gently tapped in a toast. She watched as he sipped his, his eyebrows shooting skyward. “Holy shit, that’s good.”

“Exactly. Also, another point—don’t cut out the Cuban coffee. Patrons expect to come to Miami and taste the realistic flavors. Our chef I told you about? He grew up three blocks south of Calle Ocho. This is Little Havana. His parents grew up in Cuba and were Marielitos. He was born here in Miami.”

“What is that?”

“What’s what?”

“What you just said. Mariel—”

“Marielitos. They were teenagers on the Mariel boat lift. They didn’t know each other then, they were brought over with their parents. They met in school, became citizens, and have had a good life here. This community is very unique. That was something I kept in mind when I took over. I talked to the people working at the resort. I didn’t just talk, I listened. Don’t make the mistake that the people working for you on the lower-tier jobs are less than valuable. By listening, I could bring an aspect of authentic Miami to play in a way other large resorts don’t. Look at our menu—it’s mainly authentic Cuban cuisine. Yes, with a bit of flare, granted, but people who aren’t even staying here, and locals, will come eat at our restaurant for the food. And then there are the banquet customers.”

He slowly nodded as he took a bite of picadillo. “This is really good.”

“His uncle owns it.” She took a bite of beans. “He grew up working in the kitchen here. This restaurant put three kids through college.”

Genuine surprise registered on his features, she was happy to see. “Holy shit.”

“There’s this false narrative pushed by some in the far right that the Marielitos were all thugs and criminals. That Castro opened his prisons and turned them loose and sent them to Florida. There were a few criminals, but that was just a minuscule number. Most of them were hard-working, honest people who just wanted a new life for themselves. Many of them already had family here.”

“But that was before you were born.”

“Yeah, but like I said, I listen to people. I don’t make assumptions. Did I have to let a few people go when I took over because we had some undocumented people working for us? Yes, unfortunately. I hated to do it. But never look down on anyone working for you. Those groundskeepers make sure when customers roll up in their Bentleys that every blade of grass looks perfect. The housekeepers might not speak English as their first language, but I bet their English is better than your second language, and they’re the ones who make sure the rooms are perfect and turned over fast.”

He glanced over at the counter for a moment before his gaze returned to her. “I don’t speak Spanish, or any other foreign language.”

“My Spanish sucks. I wish I was better. I can order food, or go to a store, or hold a basic conversation with someone at work to convey what I need them to know, or understand what they’re trying to tell me. I learned out of respect for them back in high school when I was working at the resort in Sarasota.”

She scooped up a forkful of ropa vieja. “You wanted to know my secret? That’s seventy-five percent of it right there. Respect for the marginalized.”

* * * *

“Why the walk-up window outside the pool area?” Holmes asked once they’d finished eating and slowly started making their way back to where he’d parked.

“We have a key card system for the gate into the pool area. That’s both for security as well as safety, trying to keep kids out of the pool. But there is a lot of beach traffic up and down this section. Instead of trying to run people away who aren’t staying here, let them walk up and pay money to eat here. Cafecitos. Why not? Our food service department turns a profit. In a lot of hotels, that’s not the case.”

“I noticed that, too.” He smiled. “That you’ve made it profitable.”

“Why shouldn’t it make a profit? We’re also expanding our catering division. Or, were,” she added in a mutter.

He stopped her and made her turn to face him. “I mean it, Maddison. Stay on. Same salary and bonus. Hell, it’s worth giving that up to know I’ve got someone solid I can trust while I try to turn the other place around. I’ll probably be asking your advice on that, too.”

“You can’t guarantee me that yet. You don’t know what your bosses will tell you.” She was genuinely starting to think maybe he didn’t know more about her from the way he was acting.

“True, but I will talk to my bosses and beg them to keep you on.” He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before his gaze settled on hers. “And they usually listen to my opinion.”

Oh, shit.

His cell phone rang. A flash of irritation crossed his face before he pulled his cell from his pocket and glanced at the screen. “Sorry, I need to take this.” He took a few steps away and at least it gave Maddison a chance to suck in a calming breath. “Yeah, honey. What’s up?”

Mads would be shocked if half of Miami didn’t hear the record screech that sounded in her brain at that. She pulled her own cell from her purse and pretended to be scrolling through e-mails as she listened to his end of the conversation.

Definitely a wife, or a live-in girlfriend.

Except he wasn’t wearing a wedding band.

The flip side of her hope crashed down on her, hard and heavy. He likely wanted to fuck her as a side piece, both to keep her in line and doing his bidding at the resort, as well as to pick her brain to get the other resort running smoothly and turning a profit. Piggybacking off her hard work.

All while making himself look good in the process.

Perfect set-up for him, right? Suite on-site for easy rendezvous, much younger woman willing to let him take charge.

Now everything about him and how he’d been treating her from the very start made perfect sense when viewed through that lens.

He finally ended the call and returned to her, smiling as if he hadn’t been interrupted. “Now, where were we?”

Over the years, she’d perfected not looking rattled. It was a survival tactic she’d had to master long before graduating college, and she was usually damned good at it despite her PTSD. “We were discussing bonuses.”

“Ah, yes, we were.” He offered her his arm and she forced herself to take it. “And…fringe benefits.”

There it is.

He didn’t waste any damn time, that was for sure.

She dove in to tackle it head-on. “The management group doesn’t have any rules against fraternization?”

“They only care about results. Or did I misread you? If you’re taken, my apologies, and he’s a lucky man.”

“No, I’m single.”

“Not sure why.” They reached his car and she held back when he went to open the door.

Her pulse hammered in her neck as she swallowed back the sour taste of fear. This was where she could make a run for it if she had to, call an Uber to take her back to the resort.

“I’ve been busy running a resort, as you’ve seen. Also, I’m trans.”

He didn’t even blink. “And?”

“And?” Okay, that response legit threw her off. She’d never had anyone respond like that before.

He chuckled. “I know all about you, Maddison. If you think I didn’t have an extensive background check run on you before I showed up here, then you are more naive than I first anticipated.” He held the door open for her. “Some might call me a scoundrel, but I can assure you I am very open-minded. I also have a particular…type.”

His eyes traveled over her body again before meeting her gaze. This time, he looked more than a little hungry. “While I won’t presume anything tonight, of course, or even in the next couple of months, I’m hoping that you’ll soon see I’m the kind of man who would make the fringe benefits very much worth your while, as well as mutually…satisfying.”

Oh, fuck.

Chapter Six

Eliza and Rusty pulled into Milo’s driveway exactly on time Saturday night. He’d decided he was going to go, enjoy himself, and if nothing else quit staring at his own goddamned navel for one freaking night.

He’d mowed the grass and cleaned the house from top to bottom.

That was one benefit to a lack of furniture—he was able to fully air the place out and feel like he’d accomplished something.

And he was considering painting the whole damn house, too. Another point of contention between him and Linda throughout the years. She had wanted nothing but off-white walls, insisted anything else would be too “busy” or “tacky.”

Fuck it. I want color.

He planned on going out Sunday to get paint samples. He’d start with the living room. It’d be easier to paint while he didn’t have anything to move around.

Rusty was driving Eliza’s SUV, and Milo climbed into the back passenger side.

“Ready to have some fun?” Eliza asked.

“I’m ready to spend a night not thinking about what the hell I went through. Not sure how good of a conversationalist I’ll be tonight, but I promise not to embarrass you in front of your friends.”

“Aw, they’ll all be understanding,” Rusty said. “So how’d it go yesterday?”

“I am now legally a single man. And she couldn’t even be bothered to show up.”

“Yikes,” he said. “Sorry.”

“Nah, don’t be. I’m glad it’s finally over. I’m going to be angry for a while, mostly over the money she took from my retirement account.”

“Yeah, I’d feel pretty fucking pissed off about that, too,” Eliza said.

Their first stop was Sigalo’s. He’d eaten at the restaurant before. After taking a seat on Eliza’s far side, he was perusing the menu when a familiar voice hit his ear, making him freeze.

Without turning his head, he shifted his gaze as far as he could to the right and spotted…yep.

Abbey Gilomen, and her husband, John.

Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck!

And from the way they were greeting others at the table, it was obvious they were regulars to this group.

Shit!

He worked with Abbey. She was another team leader at the company. Their positions were at the same level, although he’d been there two years longer than she had.

He winced and shut his eyes when Eliza spoke up. “Abbey, Gilo, I’d like to introduce you to our friend, Milo.”

“Well, hello, stranger.” When he finally dared open his eyes, he found Abbey standing there and wearing a playful smirk.

“Hey.”

Eliza scowled. “You know each other?”

“We work together,” Abbey said. Then she reached over and lightly smacked Milo’s shoulder. “Top, or bottom?”

“Eh, what?”

“He’s new,” Eliza said. “Freshly minted divorce papers from yesterday. My guess is Top.”

“Oh, he’s definitely a Top,” Rusty said.

“What was that, barbarian?” Eliza asked.

“Nothing, Ma’am.”

Abbey stepped in close so she could drop her voice, but the playful expression never left her face. “What happens outside the office stays outside the office,” she said. “That goes both ways.” She held out a hand to shake with Milo, and he did.

“Thanks.”

“No problem.” Her smile turned into a full-on grin worthy of the Cheshire cat. “I’m guessing you’re the next contestant for the Frightful Five?”

“I keep hearing that term bandied around, and it’s not instilling me with confidence, I’ll have to admit.”

Behind Abbey, John laughed. “Duuuuude, you have no clue. You might as well get your prenup ready now. Failure is never an option with them.”

“Damn right,” Eliza said. “We have a perfect track record. Like hell will I let Tilly down and ruin it now.”

“Who’s Tilly?”

Rusty chuckled. “You don’t even want to know, buddy. It’ll blow your brain badly enough watching Abbey and Gilo do their thing. Just absorb stuff as it happens.”

* * * *

Apparently, the Saturday night dinner was a core group of friends from the Suncoast Society munch group who also usually frequented the BDSM club, Venture. Not everyone showed up every Saturday, though. As Milo was introduced to newcomers, he was starting to see what little hopes he had to maybe meet someone tonight diminished by the person.

Everyone was partnered.

“Don’t worry,” Eliza said. “This is the process. Get you introduced so people have met you, and then the groupthink does its thing and puts out feelers. The more people who know you’re looking, the better our chances of finding you someone.”

“Doesn’t mean I’ll like them, or that they’ll like me.”

“Like I said, we have a perfect track record.” She smiled. “Although technically we can’t count Skye and Axel amongst them, because they already knew each other from before.”

Speaking of, they chose that moment to show up, as did Mike Kennedy and his wife.

“Should’ve brought my dice,” Milo joked. “We could start an impromptu game.”

“I have a dice app on my phone,” Rusty helpfully suggested.

“Don’t you dare,” Eliza said, shooting Rusty a glare. “That kind of dungeon gets crawled on weeknights. We’re here for the literal kind of dungeon tonight.”

The three of them left a little earlier than the others, as did Skye and Axel.

“We’re all volunteering tonight,” Eliza told Milo. “So let me get the newbie talk out of the way now…”

She ran through the club’s rules with him, which he’d also read through on the club’s website earlier. As she talked about basic protocols and common courtesies, he realized he was about to see a whole ’nother side to his friends that he usually didn’t.

Once they were there, he skimmed through the paperwork, signed, and handed over his money while Eliza checked his license against the DOJ database of registered sex offenders.

“There you go.” She also slapped a wristband on him and had him sign in. “You’re now a member of a BDSM club.”

Rusty laughed. “One of us. One of us,” he droned. “No, seriously, you’re one of us now.”

“Does this mean I’ll start grokking some of the inside jokes?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Axel said. “Hang with me most of the night. When I first got into all of this, I was totally freaked the fuck out, so I’m probably your best barometer right now.”

“Not a bad idea,” Eliza said.

Two men and a woman walked in. “Oh, hey,” the woman said. “You beat us here tonight.”

“Milo, this is Cali, Max, and Sean. Cali’s the volunteer coordinator for the club.”

“You brought me a new victim—I mean volunteer?” Cali joked.

“Not so fast,” Eliza said. “He’s one of our other kind of dungeon friends.”

“Gonna start feeling like high school again around here,” Rusty said.

* * * *

They took Milo inside and showed him around. He’d already looked at pictures of the place on their website, and watched a video tour they had posted, as well.

And as the evening started and people arrived, he was introduced to so many people he knew he’d never remember everyone.

It turned out to be a good thing he ended up paired with Axel, who proved to be a very calm, level-headed voice of reason while Milo watched scenes take place.

“The important thing that I didn’t understand at first, even though everyone including Skye told me, is that you have to find what works for you. Don’t get freaked out by anything you see, because no one’s expecting you to do that. What turns you on might turn me off, and vice-versa. Think of it like a D&D character. You and I might both build lawful good paladins, but they’re two completely different characters by the time we’re ready to play them. And that’s fine.”

Milo wasn’t sure what to think about some of the scenes he watched. Nearly brutal, and yet still beautiful at the same time. Although the rope bondage definitely turned him on, as did some of the more sensual scenes.

Rusty pulled him aside to talk midway through the night. “How are you doing?”

“I’m okay. I’ve seen some stuff that doesn’t thrill me and I’m trying not to freak out.”

“This is good. I’ve noticed you talking a lot with Axel.”

“Yeah. I think he’s going to end up being my main reference, for now.”

Abbey and her husband walked over. Now that they were at the club, he noticed she’d donned a leather collar, which he thought meant she was a submissive.

Except Gilo…

Oh, boy.

He wore a leather hood, a leather collar, leather cuffs on his ankles and wrists, and a leather jock.

And nothing else.

She also held a leash attached to his collar.

She smiled. “Yeah, he’s in gimp mode right now. I’m going to beat his ass, then he’s going to beat my ass.”

“Um…okay?”

“We’re switches,” she said, reaching over to rub the top of Gilo’s head through his hood. “Sir will come out strong on the back side, I’m sure.”

“They blow the bell curve,” Rusty playfully teased. “Definitely watch their play with the realization that they are on the advanced end of things. You aren’t even fully in the kiddie pool yet.”

“Will do.”

By the time they left that night, the one thing Milo had settled completely in his mind was that he was a Top. He had no desire to be on the receiving end of any of the play, except maybe to see what something felt like so he knew more about it.

And he definitely liked the idea of someone bottoming to him, being able to take care of them, having their willing submission handed to him. Axel told him that put him in the Dom category.

There was a regular rope group, too, and he was invited to start attending that. Axel and Skye were regulars to that. So another path to explore, since the rope scenes he’d watched had really drawn him in.

It was nearly three o’clock in the morning by the time Rusty and Eliza dropped him off at his front door. After letting himself inside and resetting the alarm, he opted to head for the bathroom to take a shower.

Watching various scenes all night had another effect on him he wouldn’t deny. He felt horny, as in really horny, for the first time in a long damn time.

Not just a physical itch to scratch as it usually was lately, but like desire burned deep in his balls in a way he hadn’t felt since the early days of being with Linda.

Before she turned off all affection and sex.

Climbing into the shower, he grabbed his cock and thought about the scenes he’d witnessed. His mind focused on one of the rope scenes, which had an element of impact and orgasm play involved.

In his brain, he thought about a woman of his own in his ropes, someone trusting him to tie her up and play with her, someone who wanted his attention.

Someone who craved pleasing him.

That shoved him over the edge harder and faster than he’d anticipated, and he stood there with cum dripping off his hand and down the shower wall while trying to catch his breath.

Okay, then.

Eliza, Axel, and others had told him what fantasies hit him hardest would likely help him discover what interested him the most.

Rope it is.

He cleaned up and headed for bed. As he lay there waiting for sleep to take him, his mind drifted to rope, to paddles.

To someone on their knees in front of him asking him to play with them.

To someone actually wanting him.

Chapter Seven

Maddison managed to safely return to her room without having to play whack-an-octopus with Holmes, but now she was seriously fucking creeped out, not to mention her PTSD had triggered.

And she couldn’t really say much about it to anyone.

Scratch that—she couldn’t say anything to anyone about it.

For starters, no one was supposed to know about the takeover yet. Technically she took off Tuesdays and Wednesdays, so she could be around for the weekend rush.

Now she was wishing she had somewhere else to be—anywhere else—and that she didn’t live on-site.

The last thing she wanted to do was get herself fired and not be able to claim her severance package.

At least Holmes hadn’t tried getting handsy with her in the car on the way back from dinner. During the drive, perhaps sensing he’d pushed a hair too far, he’d kept their discussions limited to the resort and its operations, back to friendly, but professional in demeanor.

He’d also picked her brain about the other resort, giving her an overview of problems it was having and asking her advice.

Still, when she returned to her suite, she threw the security bar, locked the deadbolt, and took a long, hot shower.

It felt like she needed a brain bleaching, too.

Guess I was right the first time when I thought he was Douchebag McDoucheyballs.

She couldn’t even tell Fen about it, because he’d no doubt immediately drive over and come charging in, ready to do battle with the guy. Sure, she’d had creepier propositions in the past, but they’d felt harmless, at the time. Interactions she could literally back away from and retreat, even if it meant cutting out early on a date or ghosting altogether, leaving a couple of twenties on the table for her share of the meal, claiming she was going to the bathroom, and having the staff sneak her out a back entrance so she could call an Uber or get to her car, if she’d driven herself.

Those last instances were very, very rare, only three times had she resorted to that.

This motherfucker…

Not only had this guy already researched her, and been able to find out she was trans—and she wasn’t sure she wanted to ask how or where he learned that info, if it was from Gonzales or somewhere else, because she was sure her parents had the records sealed when they’d gotten her marker changed and had all her personal paperwork redone—but he also basically fetishized her. She understood exactly what he was telling her when he told her he had a “type,” and he wasn’t talking about her slender curves, long legs, or tight ass.

Ew.

Add to all of that, helloooo, married. Or, at the very least, had a live-in girlfriend back in California.

And he was nearly twice her age. Which normally wouldn’t be that much of an issue for her if everything else lined up with the guy.

There’s my starting point—age and marital status.

She couldn’t let him see her acting rattled, though. She’d sussed out he was the kind of guy looking for and willing to exploit exactly that kind of leverage.

Maybe he has a “type” for more than one reason.

Maybe he found trans women easier to prey on, since many didn’t report things the way cis women did, and that was a pretty damned low ratio to start with. Life was hard enough, especially if someone didn’t pass as easily as she did. Bringing unwanted attention to herself, considering she’d already been fucked over by law enforcement and the justice system once in her life, wasn’t something she felt eager to repeat any time soon.

She’d already been at work in her office for over two hours when, a little after seven the next morning, Holmes showed up, a playful smile on his face and a cup of coffee in his hand. She had passed the word about him, exactly what he’d suggested telling people, so they knew to give him free access. He wore perfectly pressed slacks and a short-sleeved, button-up shirt with the VC company’s logo embroidered on the pocket.

She’d spent the night tossing and turning, nightmares and flashbacks preventing her from sleeping. Which was the only reason she was down in her office that fucking early today. Usually she didn’t get there until quarter ’til eight on Saturdays, unless she knew it was going to be particularly crazy for some reason.

“You’re up early on a Saturday,” he said as he nudged the office door shut behind him and sauntered over to the chair in front of her desk.

“Busy day. And we’ve got two large banquets later. I like to make sure everything’s running smoothly.”

He crossed his legs. “I hope I didn’t scare you last night.”

“Scare me?”

He smiled. “Don’t play coy. We’re both adults. You can say ‘not interested’ and I won’t hold it against you. Although, don’t be surprised if I turn up the heat a little to try to woo you. I do like a challenge.”

Ew.

Point, the first. “I don’t get involved with married men, Mr. Holmes.”

He shrugged. “We aren’t married. She has a couple of boyfriends. She knows I have…women.”

It was the hesitation before he said the last word that made her seriously want to climb over the desk and take his head off like a rabid praying mantis with massive fucking PMS and caffeine withdrawals.

Instead, Maddison sat back in her chair and forced herself to keep her tone light and keep a smile on her face.

“Mr. Holmes, you are an attractive man. But I’m not into open relationships, or swinging, or poly, or any permutation of that. I’m strictly monogamous, and expect my partner to be.” She bypassed his throat and went for the balls. “Then there’s the fact that you’re old enough to be my father.”

Point, the second.

He touched a hand to his heart and playfully gasped. “I’m wounded, through and through.” But his smile and tone told her he was anything but, and he was now considering this game on, motherfucker. “Perhaps you’d be willing to let an old dog show you a few new tricks in your spare time? Or are you one of those boring workaholics?” His green gaze remained on her as he sipped his coffee.

It hit her then that his eyes were not naturally green. The dark, almost emerald color was from contacts. She spotted the tell-tale indentations on either side of the bridge of his nose and along both temples from the glasses he’d been wearing until just a few minutes before coming downstairs, most likely.

“Being a workaholic turned this company around.” She needed to buy herself some time, just enough breathing room to get her through the next few weeks, when she officially handed the company over to him. “And if you’re going to have me helping you with the new acquisition, then I’m going to be doubly busy. Meaning I’ll have zero time for a social life.”

“Then you’ll stay? Because I spoke to the board last night after our dinner and told them that I wanted to speed things up. They’re looking at some other acquisitions in the area, and I don’t want to waste any time. They’d like to have the other deals in place before the next snowbird season ramps up. I can take over as early as Monday.”

“I don’t see why not.”

Which technically wasn’t a lie.

But she would be calling Gonzales, since he still signed her checks, and asking him to cash her out immediately.

Except she didn’t trust him not to tell Holmes about it.

Her capitulation seemed to satisfy the man, though.

“Excellent! I have to fly back to California on Friday morning and will return Monday. I’ll let the board know we’re moving forward even sooner. They’ll be happy to hear that.”

He settled into a work conversation with her, wanting to know the ins and outs of their computer system, how banking and deposits were handled, credit card fees, the account structures for the restaurants, the vendor payment arrangements—all topics she could easily focus on and not feel squicked out about him being in close proximity to her.

Good.

By the time lunch rolled around, she excused herself to her suite and locked the door behind her.

Note to self—always throw the security bar when I’m in my room.

Housekeeping only serviced her room on Tuesdays, when she was there to let them in. Otherwise, no one was allowed in her suite without her permission.

But if he was going to be around, he’d have access to the key encoder…

Not that she had anything to hide, and he could have easily tried something even creepier while alone in the car with her last night, but he hadn’t. Other than their brief discussion on the topic first thing this morning, he’d acted professional, too. Maybe a little too friendly considering they’d just met yesterday, but nothing objectionable she could add to an HR report.

Living at the resort past her last day working there would be out of the question, though. At least the furnishings in the room, and all her dishes and cooking utensils, belonged to her. Once her stuff was moved out, they could literally pull furnishings from the storage room and flip it, have it guest-ready in under an hour, if that long.

I’m going to need to call Fen and Joel for help moving me.

She’d call her dad for help, except there was a very good chance he’d go batshit crazy if he found out about Holmes and what he’d said to her.

And that Holmes had researched her and found out somehow she was trans.

That wasn’t public knowledge. It wasn’t something she posted about on Facebook or Twitter, either. Plus the more she thought about it, the more convinced she was Gonzales wouldn’t have told him.

Hell, Fen would go crazy, too, if he found out what Holmes had said. But at least she could omit a few things with them, and Joel could keep Fen in line.

She turned on her personal laptop and decided to look up classes for the USF Sarasota campus.

Sure enough, a new semester would be starting in two months. There was still time to register.

A plan quickly formed in her mind, and she picked up her cell and called Fen.

“Hey, sweetie. What’s up?”

“Can you talk for a minute? You and Joel both?”

“Sure. Hold on.” Fen switched it into speaker mode and she heard him walking through the house. “Okay, Joel’s here. What’s going on?”

“I need to ask a huge favor. Can you drive over next Friday afternoon and help me move? If I rent the truck? Can you drive it to Sarasota for me?”

“What? Wait, what’s going on?”

She gave them a condensed version without the creep factor included. “I haven’t told Mom and Dad yet, though. I’ll move to one of the regular guest rooms and, once the new manager returns, I’ll drive over.”

“Sooo…where are we moving you to?” Joel asked. “I mean, if you haven’t asked your parents about staying with them.”

“Into a storage unit, for now. I’ll decide what to do once I’m over there.”

“You’ll move in here,” Fen said. “She can move in here, right, Sir?”

“Of course she can,” Joel said. “How long do you want to stay?”

“Not more than a couple of weeks. I’ll get a part-time job and get enrolled in school.”

“You can stay several months, if you want to,” Joel said. “We don’t mind.”

“Thank you so much. I’ll pay you rent and help out with chores, too. Just, please, don’t tell my parents yet. If you do, Dad’ll show up here demanding I move in with them and I can’t fight that battle right now. Especially with the new manager here and staring over my shoulder. I don’t want anything to happen to mess up my severance package.”

“No worries,” Fen said. “We’ll keep it a secret. Why’d this happen so suddenly?”

“I don’t know. I guess the management group wanted to move things along faster when this other deal came up.”

“Stupid question,” Joel asked. “If you can stay on at the same pay, why do you want to leave? I thought you were going to go to UM for your MBA?”

“It’s not a guaranteed position. And with the severance package, I can use that year of free insurance to go to school. I don’t want to find myself suddenly out of a job and then scrambling for a place to live. Just because Mr. Gonzales said I could live here doesn’t mean the new management will okay it. Plus, it’d feel…weird living here and not working here.”

Fen made a noise she knew all too well. Even though she couldn’t see him, she imagined his nose and brow wrinkled, eyes narrowed. He was probably staring at the phone, too.

“What aren’t you telling me, Mads?” he asked.

Shit.

She was great at hiding a lot of stuff. Expert-level bluff skills.

Except around Fen.

“Promise me you won’t lose your shit.”

“That’s almost a guaranteed statement to make me lose my shit, honey. What happened?”

“Nothing happened. I just…” She opted for a version of the truth. “I’ve heard a lot of things over the past year. Lots of these ‘investment companies’ have Eastern European money tied up in them. Maybe they’re totally legit, I don’t know. I could be paranoid. But just in case they aren’t legit? Honestly? I’d rather not be anywhere near the books once they take over. Especially since I know nothing about them at all.”

“Ohhh,” Fen said, and relief filled her.

He’d bought it.

“I totally get what you mean,” Joel said. “Money laundering can start happening right under your nose and drag you down with it.”

“Exactly. That means I’d like to ask another favor.”

“What’s that?” Fen asked.

“I want to use the excuse that an old friend of mine just found out they have a health issue that for privacy’s sake I won’t disclose, and they asked me to move in to help them out. Perfect timing.”

Fen burst out laughing. “I think we can handle that for you.”

It creeped her out that Holmes had checked out her background. She wouldn’t put it past him to research further when she skittled out of his grasp. While she was thinking about it, she opened her laptop, logged into Facebook, and found the security setting to retroactively set all posts to friends only.

Once she finished talking with them and hammering out the time they’d arrive on Friday afternoon, she got off the phone and went online to rent a moving truck one-way.

Only then did she start to relax a little. The loading bay downstairs wasn’t visible from the front desk and lobby area. That was all on the far back corner, behind the banquet facilities. She’d have everything boxed up and ready to go when they arrived, and they could move everything downstairs via the service elevator and through the back hallways.

Then she’d be moved out except for whatever she kept with her.

Which wouldn’t be much.

A suitcase and a laptop bag.

Now I just need to figure out what and how to tell Mom and Dad.

Chapter Eight

Tuesday night’s D&D game finished with their party still alive—barely—and with Axel not-so-silently giggling in glee over the damage his NPCs had wrought on their characters.

But they’d survived to loot another room.

Following his trip to Venture Saturday, Milo had spent most of Sunday afternoon researching BDSM online, signing up for FetLife and friending his friends on there as well as reading several sites Eliza and Axel had recommended for research.

He had a label for himself now—a sensual Dominant, with a decided interest in becoming a rope rigger. He knew that label could change and fluctuate the more he learned, but at least it gave him something to hold on to for now, a common starting point when talking to others.

And when he’d seen Abbey at work, she’d played things completely cool and acted no differently toward him, so that was one relief, at least.

Tonight they had to wait for Kyle to leave the room before discussing Saturday night’s plans in hushed tones.

“I’m in for Saturday night, if anyone else is,” Milo said.

“Susie’s staying home,” Grant said, “but Darryl is in desperate need of a beating.”

“We’ll be there,” Eliza said.

“We have to be,” Skye added. “We’re volunteering again.”

Relief filled Milo. “Good. I’ll drive myself, but I’ll meet whoever’s coming to Sigalo’s there.”

Eliza still didn’t have a match for him, but he wasn’t going to worry about that right now. He was deep into learning mode, including purchasing rope for himself ahead of a class the following Saturday afternoon.

All he needed was a partner. Eliza assured him that, since it was over a week away, they’d find someone to stand in as his rope bunny by then.

For the first time in a long time, he felt excited about something. Even if it took him a while to meet someone to date—and frankly, he understood that might be the best thing—he was okay with that.

He’d made more new friends over the past week than he had in the past two years. He’d felt his anger ease a little.

There was a focus to his life outside of work and his shitty sham of a marriage.

He’d take the win and savor it.

If it took a while for him to meet someone, even better, because maybe by then he’d have his emotional house in order.

* * * *

Maddison spent the next week packing in secret every night while laser-focused on work during the day and getting Holmes up to speed on everything, and bringing Ivy in for as many of the conversations as she could.

She just couldn’t tell Ivy exactly why yet.

Well, they did swear her to secrecy and revealed the purchase of the resort to her, since she was integral to office operations.

But Maddison didn’t reveal her end of things to Ivy until early Friday afternoon, after Holmes had departed for the airport. Maddison had already talked to Mr. Gonzales on the phone and asked for her payout to be issued as of Sunday, but that she would stay on until Holmes returned.

As she’d guessed, Gonzales sounded more than a little relieved. Meaning Holmes’ source about her past probalby hadn’t been him.

“I’m sorry about your friend, Maddison. I hope they will have a speedy recovery.”

“I do, too, but I suppose this timing works out best for everyone. Plus, now I can return to school like I’ve always wanted.”

“And you haven’t told Holmes yet?”

“No. If you’d like to come over tomorrow morning, I can go over things for you. Ivy’s already up to speed.”

“I suppose I can do that.”

“Thank you for being so understanding.”

“Have you, eh, had any issues with Mr. Holmes?”

“No, not at all,” she lied. “Why do you ask?”

“I was just…curious. I haven’t met him in person yet. We spoke on the phone briefly during the week.”

“Oh? He didn’t mention that.” Which made her wonder what other kinds of fuckery were going on that she wasn’t privy to.

Then again, if she didn’t know, she wouldn’t be held liable for it.

“Well, I’ll see you in the morning then,” he said.

She hung up feeling relieved.

Part two, accomplished.

By the time she went to bed that night, Fen and Joel were on their way back to Sarasota with the rental truck full of her belongings—including her personal belongings from her office—her old suite had been converted to a paying guest room, and she was staying in one of the top-floor suites for the weekend, one which hadn’t been reserved.

As she stared out over the Atlantic, she took a couple of pictures with her phone.

Won’t have this view for long.

But it would be good to move back to Sarasota.

She still hadn’t told her parents she was returning. Even Fen agreed it might be better to wait until she was actually there to break the news to them. She’d also called her old doctor in Sarasota, arranged to have all her medical records transferred to him, and had the pharmacy transfer her prescriptions to the one she used to use there, as well. By the time she was ready for refills, she’d be moved.

She had a place to live arranged—short-term—she’d already registered for classes at USF, and Saturday night she might have let out a cheer alone in her suite when she received the alert in her personal e-mail that the full payout had hit her bank account.

As she stared at the new bank balance, she couldn’t help but smile. That was the last thing she’d been worried about. Gonzales had also forwarded a copy of the invoice for her health insurance, showing where he’d paid the full premium for a year, as agreed.

The only thing left for her to do was tell Holmes and get the hell out of Dodge. Gonzales had agreed to come in on Monday, and would be there when she told Holmes she was leaving. With Gonzales there and able to fill in any gaps, along with Ivy, it wasn’t like she was leaving them hanging. Not really.

All Holmes wanted her for was to fuck her, and to do the hard work for him so he’d look good.

Sorry, not buying it.

When the three of them gathered in her office late Monday afternoon and she broke the news to Holmes, she had her confirmation when he outed his damn self right there.

“Is this because I propositioned you? I told you I’d take no for an answer.”

Gonzales’ jaw dropped as he stared at Holmes, who now sat with his arms crossed over his chest.

“As I’ve just stated, Mr. Holmes, I’ve had a personal situation arise that makes it necessary for me to leave. I had planned on staying, but my friend needs me. Also, I’ve already enrolled in classes.”

“But I told the management group you were staying!” The dark anger in his gaze told Maddison she’d made the right move. “Now what am I supposed to do?”

She’d also put all her things in her car earlier that day. All she had to do was get in it and leave.

“The original plan was for me to stay on only as long as it took to get you up to speed, which I’ve done. Mr. Gonzales knows operations, as does Ivy. You’ll have their more than capable assistance with running the resort.”

“Don’t expect a good reference from me,” he growled.

“Then it’s a good thing she’s using me as a reference, isn’t it?” Mr. Gonzales said, looking irritated now. He turned to Maddison. “Tell me the truth—did he make a pass at you?”

She met Holmes’ gaze, which today looked muddy brown and bloodshot behind his wire-rimmed glasses. “Yes, he did. Told me I was his ‘type,’ which in the context presented meant because I’m trans. The only reason I didn’t quit immediately was because of the respect I have for you, Mr. Gonzales. I wasn’t going to say anything, but if he’s going to attempt to retaliate, I want the full truth out there.”

Mr. Gonzales turned on Holmes. “Congratulations. With your behavior, you ran off the best asset you ever could have had for your company. I don’t know how you do things in California, Mr. Holmes, but if you expect to continue the success Maddison built, I would suggest you take a long, hard look at yourself.” Gonzales turned to her. “I’m so sorry, Maddison. I certainly didn’t tell him sometihng so personal about you.”

His words warmed her and confirmed more of her suspicions.

Too bad it’s too little, too late.

And too bad he sold the damn resort out from under her. She’d had so many plans for it, new ideas to implement that would have hopefully made it even more profitable.

Guess we’ll never find out now.

She shoved the sad pang out of her soul. Now was not the time for that kind of bullshit melancholy.

Maddison handed over her master key card and her physical set of keys to Mr. Gonzales. “I’ve already instructed Darren to delete all of my access to the systems, and he has my work cell phone. Thank you for the faith you had in me, and for giving me the opportunity to work for you. I’ve enjoyed it.” She offered him a hug, which he accepted. For all his faults, he had been a decent boss. She never was sure if he was uncomfortable with her being trans, or was worried what others would think if they found out. In the end, it totaled the same—he was uncomfortable with that knowledge getting out.

At least she believed him when he said he wasn’t the one who’d outed her to Holmes.

She picked up her personal keys, shouldered her purse, rounded her desk, and offered Holmes a handshake. “Life takes funny turns, Mr. Holmes. Best wishes on your venture.”

She wasn’t sure he was going to shake, at first. He finally did.

“Can we please talk about this? Alone? Is it because I had deep background pulled on you? Because if it—”

“No, I’m sorry, that won’t be possible. My decision is final. Now, if you’ll both excuse me, I told my friend I’d be there this evening, and I don’t want them to worry about me.”

“When are you clearing out your things?” Holmes asked.

“I’m completely moved out.” She smiled at the obvious shock on his face over that revelation. “The resort is now completely in your capable hands, Mr. Holmes.”

She hoped he wouldn’t follow her, and fortunately, he didn’t.

The valet brought her car around and while she was stopped at a light, she texted Fen.

On my way. Have Waze up so you can track me.

She smiled at the smiley face Fen sent in reply.

Next stop—Sarasota.

* * * *

Monday night, Milo stared at the splashes of color on his living room walls. He’d picked ten different colors and painted small swatches on several walls so he could look at them in a wide variety of light. He didn’t want something that would make it look like a cave.

He also found himself nearly paralyzed by indecision, something he wasn’t used to feeling.

In addition to the painted swatches, he had dozens more paint chips taped to various walls all over the house.

How sad does this make me, that I haven’t done this before?

He’d moved into the house two years before he’d started dating Linda. Back then, he’d been too busy to think about painting, hadn’t really had the money to do it, and then when he met Linda she discouraged him from doing it.

There were a lot of things he wanted to do to the house, actually, including redoing the floors. He hated having carpet, but Linda had liked it.

He wanted a damn dog.

She’d hated animals and the “mess” they made.

He stood there, staring at the colors.

It’s time I start living life for me.

The worst that could happen was that he picked a color he ended up hating and had to repaint it. That wasn’t the end of the world, either.

Taking a deep breath, he slowly let it out. Reminding himself to just breathe had finally grown easier now, too. Maybe he didn’t have furniture, or a relationship, but for the first time in years, he finally felt a modicum of peace.

Something he relished. He’d had another good night at Venture on Saturday. Compared to his first visit to the club, now that he’d known what to expect, he hadn’t found the scenes he’d watched to be…shocking or disturbing. If anything, he’d been better able to pay attention to the techniques used, especially with Grant and Darryl pointing stuff out to him as they watched others playing.

And Darryl had even volunteered to Grant he could let Milo take a few swats at him with implements.

Milo had taken them up on it, wanting to learn as much as he could and not waste a single opportunity.

He definitely wasn’t a hard-core sadist, but it was interesting to try new things.

Yesterday he’d spent time doing more research, in addition to working out for a couple of hours in the gym, something else that had slipped over the past couple of weeks ahead of the divorce, and then…relaxing.

Relaxing was the thing he hadn’t done much of in too damn long, he realized.

He’d even tried sofa shopping again—another strike-out, though.

But…

He felt peaceful. He wouldn’t take that for granted at all.

Now if he could make it through that coming Saturday’s rope class without embarrassing the hell out of himself, that’d be great.

* * * *

Between fighting rush-hour traffic in Miami, and stopping for gas and dinner on the way, it was nearly eleven by the time Mads pulled into Fen and Joel’s driveway.

And both men were standing outside, waiting on her, when she did.

Waze, FTW.

It took everything she had not to burst into relieved tears when the men surrounded her for a hug, Fen in front and Joel in back.

“Thank you so much for this, guys.”

“When are you going to tell us the full story, sweetie?” Fen asked.

She felt her face heat and was glad it was dark out. “What do you mean.”

“Don’t lie to us,” Joel said. “Even I can tell there was more of a story.”

She knew there was no way they’d let her get out of telling it, either.

“Let me get inside, go to the bathroom, and change clothes, and then I’ll tell you. Preferably with an alcoholic beverage.”

Joel grabbed her bags for her while Fen led her inside. Not only had they set everything up in her room for her, Fen and Joel had unpacked stuff like they expected her to be living there for a while.

That finished her. “Thank you,” she tearfully sniffled against Fen’s shoulder.

“Everything else is in the garage,” Joel said. “And you don’t need to move out in a hurry, either. We’re good with you staying here for a while.”

She hugged him. “This means a lot to me, thank you.”

They left her alone to change, and when she finally joined them in the kitchen, Fen handed her a cold bottle of beer, already opened. “Spill, honey.”

After taking a deep breath, she did, watching rage fill both men’s faces as she gave them a blow-by-blow.

“It’s a good thing you didn’t tell us that before,” Joel said. “We’d have been over there punching the fucker’s lights out.”

“I know. That’s why I didn’t tell you. Or Mom and Dad.”

“Do they even know you’re here?” Fen asked.

“No. I’m going to stop by tomorrow and talk to them. Please don’t tell them the full story, huh? They don’t need to know.”

“Or Fen’s dad,” Joel said. “He’ll want to punch the guy out, and I think they’re going this weekend.”

“Oh, shit, I totally forgot about that!” Fen said. “Dammit.”

She took another sip from her bottle. “Well, they can cancel without penalty.” She wryly smiled. “The main reason they were going was to check up on me for Mom and Dad. Don’t bother denying it.”

“Yeah,” Fen said. “Pretty much.” He walked around the counter and draped his arms around her from behind. “I’m so glad you’re safe,” he gently said.

She patted his arms. Fen was literally like the brother she’d never had. He was the one person she could cuddle up with because he always made her feel safe. And now Joel, too, even though she hadn’t known him as long.

When the tears hit, she hadn’t been expecting them. Joel disappeared and returned with a box of tissues for her, handing her one and taking her beer from her, setting it on the counter in front of her.

“Dammit! I worked my ass off there,” she said. “I worked so freaking hard to save that place, and then he turns around and sells it?” She dabbed at her eyes. “Then Douchebag McDouchenstein tells me I’m his ‘type’? What the fuck does he think I’m going to do, just spread my legs for him and tell him thanks for turning me into his personal wank fodder? Fuck him.”

“I know, sweetie,” Fen gently said. “It sucks, and it’s not fair.”

“Is it too much to have a guy want me for me? I’m not some damn freak.”

Joel wrapped his arms around both of them. “I think we need to introduce you to the Frightful Five this weekend,” he said.

“Oooh! Eliza said they’ll be there,” Fen said. “There’s a rope class Saturday.”

“At this point, I’m willing to try anything, if it means I meet a decent guy.” She blew her nose. “Hell, I’d settle for a platonic roomie I could introduce to my parents as a boyfriend just to keep them off my case and keep them from worrying.”

By the time she finished crying and finished her beer, she hadn’t finished feeling sorry for herself.

Not by a long shot.

But it was close to midnight, and she knew she needed to let Fen and Joel get to bed, because they had to work the next day.

Except she wasn’t even close to being tired.

She changed into her swimsuit, a cute, hot pink one-piece with a skirt on it that she’d fallen in love with when she’d seen it, and headed out to the pool. She’d rarely used the pool at the resort because she’d felt self-conscious about her coworkers. She didn’t have a problem going down to the beach and swimming there or sunning herself, but wearing yoga pants and a sports bra to work out in was different than a swimsuit.

It just…was.

Guess that’s not a problem anymore.

The warm water was perfect, and she swam slow laps before rolling onto her back and staring up at the stars.

There were worse positions to be in than the one she currently found herself.

Far worse.

She had a gentle landing thanks to loving friends who were adopted family.

And they’d be working just as hard to help her next launch be successful, too.

It could always be worse.

Chapter Nine

Tuesday morning when Mads crawled out of bed a little after eight, she found Fen had left her a note on the kitchen counter, next to the coffeemaker.

Call me on my cell if you need anything today, sweetie. I’ll stop by at lunchtime to check on you. — F.

He really did love her, bless his heart. She couldn’t have survived what she went through in college if it hadn’t been for him. Not and made it through it relatively sane. He’d been willing to withdraw from USF and move to Gainesville to live with her to help her out after the attack.

Except she couldn’t do that to him. Make him put his life on hold for something he had no fault in.

Between Fen’s love and friendship, and the love and support of her parents—and a damned good counsellor—she’d gotten through that and returned to school eventually. Not UF, but a business degree was a business degree.

And it’d allowed her to go back to work at the resort there in Sarasota, giving her valuable work experience she wouldn’t have otherwise had.

Which had allowed her to land the job in Miami.

And now?

Now I’m back to where I started, except without the level of emotional carnage, and no physical wounds.

But she did now have valuable work experience and an excellent, successful track record to proudly show prospective employers.

She poured herself a cup of coffee and stupidly found herself crying again when she realized she wouldn’t be able to just walk down to the cafe on-site and get herself a cafecito whenever she wanted one.

No more gorging herself on picadillo and fried plátanos as a special treat for having worked out harder that week.

No more bakery-fresh Cuban bread to toast in the morning.

Goddamned Holmes.

Fen had even tucked all of her bathroom stuff in the guest bathroom that was now hers to use. She dug out one of the bath bombs Fen had given her and set herself up with a nice, long, hot soak as she scrolled through her e-mail on her phone.

Mom is going to stress out.

She literally had no complaints about her parents, even when she internally griped about how overprotective they were.

Maddison was all too aware of how damned lucky she was. They’d always been loving and supportive of her even early on, when they were clueless how to deal with her. Maddison had met plenty of trans folks who’d been disowned at best, and nearly killed at worst, by their families of origin.

She’d never bitch about her parents. Not like that. Ever. Her life could have been one long, non-stop story of misery, instead of one dark chapter that could have happened to anyone.

By the time Fen arrived a few minutes after noon bearing Greek salads and lattes, Maddison had gotten dressed, fixed her hair, put on makeup, and had made one pass through local help wanted listings as a starting point.

“Look at you, gorgeous!” Fen brushed a kiss against her cheek. “Have you talked to Mom and Dad yet?”

“Yours or mine?”

“Yes.” He smiled.

“I’m going to go by after lunch. I’ll surprise them.” She perched on one of the barstools at the counter.

“They’ll be surprised, all right.”

“Thank you guys again for this. You have no idea how grateful I am.”

“Sweetie, you don’t have to thank us. It’s a relief to have you here and know you’re safe.”

“You might get yelled at by our parents for not ratting me out.”

He shrugged. “You’re an adult. They need to accept that.”

“I don’t feel like an adult. I feel like a damned failure.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong. Fuck that guy, anyway. In the metaphorical sense, of course, because like you said, ew.”

“You know the sad thing?”

“What?”

“Had he not made a point of telling me he already knew I was trans, and emphasizing that was kind of his thing, I might have actually slept with him. He wasn’t bad-looking.”

“But he was fifty.”

She shrugged. “Sometimes older guys are better. They’re not hung-up as much and they know more.” She took a bite of her salad. “Or they’re creepy assholes, but you know, it’s a fifty-fifty shot.” She smiled.

“I’m not knocking older guys. Hello, Pot, meet Kettle. Joel’s thirteen years older than me, and I’m not complaining.”

“I was going to mention that.”

“But thirteen isn’t old enough to be my dad, just my older brother. Literally. We’ll make sure we tell Eliza you’re cool with older guys, though. Broadens the dating pool. We’ll need to sit down with her and tell her all about you.”

“Does she know I’m trans?”

“No, but she’ll be cool with that. You’ll really like them. Oh, you met them at our wedding.” He held one hand way up. “Rusty.” Then held it about his eye level. “And Eliza. As opposed to Scrye.” He held his hands wide apart but about the same height he had for Rusty. “And June.” He moved them down to chest level, only held just inches apart. “June’s my yoga-slash-pole dance instructor, and Scrye helped Joel install our pole.”

“Oh!” She laughed. “Okay, yeah. They all seemed really nice.”

“Oooh! I just had an idea!”

“What?”

“Tonight, you and me, pole dancing class! It’s just me and June right now. Please? If you sign up as a member, you can drop in on any of the classes, including yoga.”

It was on the tip of her tongue to say no, but she reconsidered. “Do I need anything special for an outfit?”

“What do you usually wear to work out in?”

“Sports bra and yoga pants.”

“Don’t you have any booty shorts?”

“Yeah, but you told me you needed special…foundation garments.”

He winced. “Let me talk to June. I know she said women sometimes wear two pairs of panties for coverage.”

She arched an eyebrow at him.

“I don’t know, okay?” He flapped his hands at her. “I don’t know what you usually use or how you…arrange stuff, all right?”

He was adorable when he got flustered, and it made her laugh. “I love you, dude.”

“I love you, too. And I missed you. Even if you did get my ass drunk and got me to pole dance on stage.”

“Where’s the trophy?”

“In our bedroom. Oh, and the code for the playroom door is 1121.”

She thought about it. “You did not.”

He grinned. “Joel doesn’t even know why.”

She grinned. “Little snot.”

He kissed her cheek. “Bestie loves ya.”

“Bestie loves ya back.”

Clue. Her favorite movie ever. The code Fen had used was a callback to a line in the movie when they were trying to figure out how many shots had been fired from a revolver.

After Fen finished lunch and returned to work, Mads tidied up the kitchen, grabbed her purse, and headed out. Best to get this over with as soon as possible, because if she didn’t, she’d catch holy hell from them.

Her mom was home, but her dad wasn’t. When her mom opened the door, she scowled. “What happened?”

“Hello, Mom. I love you, too.”

Her mom hugged her tightly. “Hello, I love you, what the hell happened?”

Okay, so it’d be the hard way.

She gave her the overview—minus the creepiness with Holmes, duh.

At least her mom shelved the She-Hulk persona trying to come out. “Well, that sucks. Why the hell didn’t you ask us to move in here?”

“Because I don’t plan on being with Fen and Joel very long. I’m not a baby, Mom.”

Her mom tucked a strand of Maddison’s hair behind her ears, and unlike when Holmes did it, it wasn’t the slightest bit creepy. “I worry,” she quietly said.

“That’s why I’m with Fen and Joel right now. And even better, the friend of theirs who introduced them to each other? They’re going to sic her on trying to find me a guy.”

“Really?”

“Really. A well-screened, heavily vetted, thoroughly interrogated guy who would likely disappear in a swamp if he so much as looks at me the wrong way.”

“Hmm.” She studied Maddison for a long moment. “I guess that’s okay. As long as Fen and Joel sign off on him first. Oh! Do you want us to try to get you on our cruise next month?”

Maddison shuddered. “No, seriously, no thanks.”

“Well, before I know you said because of work—”

“Not just work, Mom. The thought of going on a cruise squicks me out. Our restaurants were clean, believe me, I know. But the thought of being stuck aboard a floating petri dish for a couple of weeks, and not having the slightest clue how clean their kitchens are, because they don’t have regular county health inspections…I just…”

She shuddered again. “Then there’s the whole ‘you can’t just walk away and leave the ship’ problem. Sorry, hard pass. It’s me, totally me, and I know it. I’d rather go to a fireworks display in Times Square on New Year’s Eve.”

“Sorry, I wasn’t thinking about your PTSD.”

“I’ll watch the house for you while you’re gone. How’s that?”

“Sounds like a plan, sweetheart.”

Her dad had returned just before Mads was ready to leave, and she had to go through the whole story again with him. Then she stopped by Fen’s parents’ house, and before she even left, Fen’s dad had cancelled their reservation at the resort.

That gave her a tiny bit of satisfaction.

Fen texted her as she was leaving their house.

June said to call her and talk to her.

Including her number.

With more than a little anxiety, Mads called her as soon as she reached Fen’s house, went through the logistics with her, and decided to try a pair of Brazil bottoms under a pair of booty shorts. At least it was just the two of them in class with June. If Mads had a wardrobe malfunction, she’d think about buying one of the dance bands then.

As the time approached to go to the class, Mads changed clothes and threw on a T-shirt and casual maxi skirt over everything and headed to the studio.

Except she beat Fen there. Fortunately, she remembered June from the wedding, and June remembered her. “You’re the one who got him to enter that contest.”

“Guilty.”

“Man, that video was awesome.” June high-fived her. “Did you want to do a little, eh, experiment before Fen gets here? To make sure you have sufficient coverage?”

“Oh, god, yes please!”

June smiled. “Come on, sweetie.” June was funny and caring in a mom sort of way, Mads was happy to see. And trying some of the moves June showed her, it looked like her current bottoms would be sufficient, thankfully.

Fen rushed in five minutes later. “Sorry I’m late!”

“No worries,” June said. “We were just doing girl stuff.” She dropped Mads a wink.

Relief filled Mads. For the first time in a long time, she felt she didn’t have to be on her guard around people she didn’t know very well. No way in hell would Fen ever put her into a situation where she wasn’t safe.

By the time class ended, she learned she wasn’t in nearly as good of shape as she thought, that Joel was a lucky sumbitch to have bendy Fen as his hubby, and that June was part of the Frightful Five.

Well, this’ll make Saturday interesting. Fen had already told her they would be going to dinner and the club with everyone.

Later, after dinner and showers, Fen coaxed her into movie night on the couch with him and Joel.

“So how did today go?” Joel asked her.

“I really like June. I’m going to be in pain tomorrow, though.” Except the workout she’d gotten, she could tell, had played hell with muscles she wasn’t used to using, especially in her abs. And, yes, she signed up for the membership.

“Yeah, you will,” Fen said.

“So what are we watching?” Mads asked.

Fen grinned as he hit play on the remote. On the screen, the opening credits for Clue played.

Joel settled in on one end of the couch. “Fen said this is your favorite.”

“It is. We both have it memorized. We can watch something else, if you want.”

“No, this is good.” Joel kissed the top of Fen’s head, and her bestie looked so happy she wanted to cry.

Maybe one day she’d find someone who’d look at her the way Joel looked at Fen.

For tonight, Mads was happy to be on the far end of the couch, her legs draped over Fen and Joel’s laps. A catch in her right side was bothering her, though, and she tried stretching to ease it.

“You okay?” Fen asked.

“Stitch in my side.” She nudged him with her foot. “Made me work my ass off in class.”

He laughed. “Not my fault you’re so competitive and wanted to show me up.”

As the climax of the movie hit, Mads and Fen both snickered at the scene when Wadsworth and Miss Scarlett were arguing over how many shots were taken.

Joel scowled. “Hey, that’s the code for our playroom door.”

Mads and Fen looked at each other and burst out laughing.

Chapter Ten

Milo awoke Saturday morning eagerly anticipating that afternoon’s rope class. Rusty and Eliza were meeting him there and indicated they’d confirmed someone to be his rope partner, but wouldn’t say much beyond that.

That was fine with him. As long as they were nice and didn’t have foul body odor, he could work with almost anyone. Hell, he’d even work with a guy, if it came to that. He wasn’t picky.

He just really wanted to learn rope.

He’d ordered a couple of June and Scrye’s books, as well as some other shibari books that had come highly recommended. But June and Scrye were teaching the class Saturday, and apparently their reputation as instructors meant the class would be full Saturday.

Per Eliza’s recommendation, he arrived an hour early and found Eliza, Rusty, Skye, and Axel already there. Eliza grabbed some MMA mats and set up an area for Milo, Rusty, and her so they could show him some basic ties.

“We’re going to babysit you during class,” Eliza said. “Hope you don’t mind.”

“Mind? I’m glad for it. I want to learn as much as possible.”

“So, listen.” She exchanged a glance with Rusty. “We need to talk before your partner arrives.”

“Okay? This sounds serious.”

“It…could be.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s…wrong.”

“Eliza, dammit, I’ve known you too many years for you to go chickenshit on me now. Just say it.”

“Okay.” She seemed to take on a fierce determination, one he’d seen her wear doing combat at ren fair with their reenactment group. “Her name’s Maddison, she’s almost twenty-seven. She was recently the general manager of a big resort over in Miami, until it was sold, and the new owners wanted their own guy in place.”

“That sucks.”

“Yes. She’s got a college degree in business, and she’s going back for her MBA because her severance package is covering it. And she’s moved back to Sarasota. She’s currently living with other friends of ours, Fen and Joel. Fen’s her best friend.”

“Why do you sound like you’re leading up to something?”

“Because I am.” She glanced around and took out her phone. “Since no one else is here yet, I’m doing this.” She swiped into something on her phone, then turned it around to show him. The young woman had beautiful greenish blue eyes and long brown hair. “That’s from her Facebook profile.”

Milo’s heart thumped. “She’s gorgeous.”

“She’s also got PTSD. That’s a long story that I’ll let her tell you.” She slipped her phone back into her bag.

“Is that the big reveal?”

“No.”

“Again, we’ve known each other since we were kids. Just fucking tell me.”

“She’s trans.”

“Huh?”

“She’s transgender.”

That wasn’t…computing. “She’s trying to become a man?”

Rusty snorted, and the backhand Eliza gave his shoulder sounded like it had some power to it.

Especially when he flinched and said, “Ow,” and started rubbing it.

“She’s a woman,” Eliza said. “Our friend Fen, he’s literally known her since they were kids. She transitioned way back, started before high school. I’ve already talked to June, who’s met her a couple of times now. Maddison is going to pole dancing classes with Fen, and—”

“Wait, is Fen a guy?”

“Yes.”

“And Fen’s taking pole dancing?”

“That’s your question?” Rusty snarked. “Really?”

Eliza threw him a dark glare before focusing on Milo again. “Maddison is a woman.”

“Can I see her picture again?”

She pulled her phone out and showed him. The woman in the picture was smiling, but Milo sensed a cautious fragility there, now that he was really paying attention.

“Okay, so…” He sighed. “How am I supposed to react to this?”

“That’s my point of talking to you now. A courtesy. No one’s asking you to marry her tonight or anything. But that way if there was going to be an issue for you, you could say so now, and I’d work with you and let the barbarian work with her.”

“Is she a nice person?”

“June says she’s fricking adorable. I’ve only met her briefly, one time, at Fen and Joel’s wedding. Will this be a problem?”

“Should it be?”

“In a perfect world? No, it wouldn’t be a problem for anyone. Unfortunately, we’re surrounded by a world full of assholes.”

Dammit, this was his life. Why should he be afraid to live any aspect of it? “I’ll be her partner. Like you said, I’m not marrying her tonight.”

Eliza breathed an audible sigh of relief. “Thank you. I know introducing you two might be risking our perfect record, but we’re going to work on finding someone for her, too, in case it doesn’t work out between you two.”

“You don’t think she’ll think I’m too old for her?”

“Why would she think that?”

“Because I’m, what, almost sixteen years older than her?”

She wore a grim smile. “Well, then. That would be ironic, wouldn’t it?”

* * * *

Fen had refused to let Mads ride in the backseat, so she found herself as shotgun with Joel driving.

And her nerves had tightened to the point she’d taken one of her anti-anxiety pills before leaving the house. Not quite panic attack territory yet, but she definitely wouldn’t be doing this if Fen and Joel weren’t there with her.

“I’ve never met this guy,” Fen said, “but Eliza and Rusty have known him for years.”

“Are they telling him I’m trans?” she asked, not sure if she hoped so or hoped not.

“I don’t know,” Fen said. “I do know Eliza would probably knock someone’s block off if they were an asshole to you.”

“If June didn’t shoot them first,” Joel quipped.

She’d heard that story from Fen, as well as the story of their resident ghost. Although she hadn’t seen any signs of one herself.

But from Fen’s retelling, she knew he believed it, which was good enough for her. Her bestie had a good imagination, but he was never a liar or bullshitter.

June and Scrye were already there when they arrived twenty minutes before the class was to start. For today, Mads had opted for her usual workout clothes—a sports bra and yoga capris—over which she wore a loose T-shirt she’d take off for class. She’d brought a sundress and heels to change into for later.

After Mads went through the sign-up process, and Joel and Fen paid their entrance fees, and all three of them were given wristbands so they could come back later for the play session, Mads followed the two men inside.

June hurried over and draped her arms around Fen and Mads in a hug and whispered something in Fen’s ear that Mads couldn’t hear, but made Fen grin. Before she even had time to really look around at the space, Mads was basically surrounded by Joel, Fen, and June, and hustled around the mats on the floor to the far side, where two men and a woman were sitting and talking.

The three stood immediately. Rusty and Eliza, she recognized. She also realized both men were taller than Scrye. The taller guy had fern green eyes that looked totally natural, and a solid build she could easily see herself climbing. Short blondish hair, but probably some grey mixed in, it was hard to tell. He was nearly a foot taller than her, so he had to be at least six-five.

Holy cow. If he turned out to be an asshole, she was going to cry, right there.

June made the introductions. “I believe you’ve met before, but this is Eliza, who we’ve told you about, and her husband, Rusty. Eliza, Rusty, this is Maddison.”

Rusty was the shorter of the two tall men.

“Nice to meet you again,” Mads said.

Eliza took over. “Maddison, I’d like to introduce our friend, Milo. We’ve literally known Milo since high school.”

Fen laughed. “I’ve known Mads since we were kids.”

She offered her hand and liked that Milo met her gaze head-on, and he was gentle with his handshake. Not like a limp fish, but like a gentleman.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Maddison.”

“Nice to meet you, too.”

It felt like everyone around them was holding their breaths, and when she looked, she realized they were all watching them. As if they’d pounce at the hint of trouble.

Jesusfuck.

“Don’t scare him off before he even gets to know me, Fen. Sheesh.” She realized while Milo wasn’t holding on to her hand anymore, he was waiting for her to end their handshake. Reluctantly, she drew her hand back.

Fen finally laughed, slinging an arm around her shoulders in a way that others might think was friendly, but was deceptive. That was his “don’t fuck with my bestie or I’ll smack you with a skillet” stance.

Actually, it was his “don’t fuck with my bestie or I’ll make you wish all I’d done was smack you with a skillet” stance.

He’d taken on assholes in high school on her behalf who had an even larger height and weight advantage than this guy right now.

She realized none of them were going to budge an inch until this was settled and they were certain Milo wasn’t going to flip out. While she appreciated it—more than some of them could possibly know—it was already setting her nerves on edge.

She stepped forward and caught Milo’s arm and led him a few steps away.

And had to literally hold up a hand to warn Fen to stay back, bless his heart.

She motioned for Milo to lean in. “Okay, sooo…did you happen to notice the posse I’ve apparently picked up?”

He smirked, and she had to fight the urge to rise up on her toes and kiss him.

“Yeah. That’s a pretty intense protective vibe right there.”

“Any idea why?”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “If I was a betting man, I’d guess they’re waiting to see if they need to pound me for freaking out or not.”

Her heart raced, anxiety struggling to break through. “Freaking out?”

She was used to watching people, and right now, the only thing keeping her from dropping into full-on fight-or-flight was the fact that she did apparently now have a protective “posse” standing mere feet away.

Adding in Scrye, who’d also walked over.

Milo met her gaze. “Eliza told me you’re trans.”

“And?”

He shrugged. “And?”

“Thoughts?”

“Honestly?”

“Yeah.”

“I think you’re an attractive woman, but I’m worried that at the end of the evening you’re going to politely tell me this won’t work.”

Mads fought to keep her heart from melting and her hope from soaring over those two words—attractive woman. “Why?”

“Because I’m almost forty-three.”

She blinked. “Wait…what?”

“What?”

“You’re worried I’m not going to want to get to know you better…because you’re almost forty-three?”

“Right.”

She tipped her chin up, studying him for a moment, uncertain if he was fucking with her or not.

“That’s not a problem for me,” she said.

“Okay. They told me you’ve got more experience in BDSM than I do.”

“How much experience do you have?”

“Less than three weeks. Wait…” He seemed to be mentally calculating. “Today’s my third Saturday here. Technically I guess that’s two weeks.”

God, he was adorable. She looked around for a little more privacy—had to give Fen another stay command—and led Milo just inside the doorway to another play area.

She dropped her voice. “Yes, I have experience in BDSM. Not to mention I was running a large resort. It means I’m used to being forthright and open in my negotiations. Direct.”

“Okay.”

“I take it you’re single?”

He smiled. “I’ve been single exactly one day longer than I’ve been involved in BDSM.”

“What?”

“My divorce was finalized on Friday, and Eliza and Rusty brought me here on Saturday. Although she’d abandoned the marriage long before that.”

“Ah.”

“Look, I’m not some whacko who’s going to flip out,” he told her. “I promise. Whatever it is, you can just say it.”

“There’s a…story. I have PTSD. The story can be told later. But here’s the thing about me.” She waggled her fingers at her torso. “Upstairs is what you see. Downstairs, I have factory-installed parts. If that’s a problem, say so now. If it’s a fetish of yours, you also need to be honest with me now and say so, because in that case, this won’t work for me.”

He shrugged. “Honestly?”

“Honestly.”

“I think you’re attractive, I’ve started realizing that maybe I’m a Dom, and right now, I’m looking to make friends and learn more about myself and all of this.” He indicated the dungeon at large. “I’d like to get to know you better. If you’d like to get to know me better, I’m open to that, too. I don’t have an opinion about your ‘parts’ one way or another, because that’s several steps past where we’re at now.”

She relaxed. “I wanted there to be no unpleasant surprises for either of us later. I’m not getting bottom surgery.”

She realized from the way his brow furrowed that he wasn’t sure what she meant. “My factory-installed parts aren’t ever getting an aftermarket retrofit,” she added. “And while, yes, it’s a little soon to be discussing sex, be advised my parts don’t work like your parts do. Which is another reason if I am a fetish for you that this won’t work for either of us.”

His expression gentled. “Can we start with this class and dinner after?” He smiled again. “You might hate me by the end of class.”

Somehow, she had a feeling she wouldn’t. “Sure. That sounds nice, thank you.”

Fen, Joel, June, Eliza, and Rusty weren’t fast enough scurrying away from the doorway. “We’re good, gang,” Mads assured them.

They all visibly relaxed, which made Milo laugh. “I know Eliza and Rusty can kick my ass. I don’t even want to know how dead I’d be if the rest of y’all ganged up on me, too.”

“You have nooo idea,” Mads said.

Chapter Eleven

I am sooooo fucked.

Milo was having trouble following along with what Scrye was teaching, because his damned cock didn’t want to behave. It strained against his slacks as he was trying to tie the chest harness around Mads, as she’d told him to call her.

Didn’t help that she’d started low-key flirting with him thirty minutes into class.

Sure, she’d given him permission to touch her boobs to do the tie, but she’d started taking great pleasure in playfully joking around with him.

She’d pulled her hair back into a ponytail, and he had to keep fighting the urge to lean in and run his lips along the back of her long, graceful neck.

“Is this what they call bratty behavior?” he joked as she deliberately shifted to nudge his hand with her left breast while he made one of the wraps with the rope.

“Maaaybe.” She tipped her head back to meet his gaze. “Is that a problem?”

“Not in the way you’re thinking,” he softly groused, opting to look her dead in the eye. “Just keep in mind while you’re being sadistic to me that I haven’t had sex in a couple of years. My ex cheated, but I didn’t.”

Her smile faded. “Yikes. Sorry.”

“I didn’t mean I minded.” Her smile returned. “Just fair warning, that’s all. If you ask me to spank you later, you might get more of a spanking than you bargained for.”

She studied him for a long moment. “Promise?” she softly asked.

“I’ve never spanked someone before. You’d be my guinea pig.”

She leaned back, into him, resting her weight against him. “As long as you promise to respect a safeword if I have to use one. Been too dang long since I’ve gotten to play.”

“Of course I will. As long as you aren’t too disappointed by my spanking skills.”

A wickedly playful gleam appeared in her eyes. “I get to pop your Dom cherry, hmm? I’m honored.”

He laughed. “Okay, seriously, I need to adjust myself. Excuse me.” She sat up while he shifted things around in his slacks so he wasn’t getting pinched anymore. “Sorry.”

But she didn’t look sorry in the least. “I’m flattered.”

He focused on the class again. “By the way, how do you feel about dogs?”

“I love them, but I don’t have any pets. I really couldn’t before, with my job. Why?”

“Just wondering.”

* * * *

A flash of intuition hit her. “Your ex didn’t like dogs?”

“Didn’t like pets, period. But I don’t want to talk about her all night. Eliza said you’re going back to school…”

The class was too damn short for Maddison’s liking. Even if nothing else happened other than she got spanked tonight, she was glad she met Milo.

She hoped that wasn’t where things ended with them, but it was too damned soon to tell. The vibes she felt from him were totally different from the creepy douche factor Holmes had put off. It didn’t hurt that Milo was pre-vetted by Eliza and June.

Yeah, she was a little bratty to him during class, she’d own it. She wanted to see how he’d react. If he’d withdraw a little, or play it back to her. Or, worse, shut it down because he was one of those kinds of Doms who took themselves way too seriously.

No red flags so far.

She opted to take a chance once class was wrapping up. “You said you’re coming to Sigalo’s, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Mind if I ride over with you?”

“You can bring Fen, if you want.”

“No, I’d like some time to talk to you without fifty people up our asses.” She sent a pointed glare to Fen, who’d leaned in so close to eavesdrop that he was literally inches from Milo’s right elbow.

Fen scowled. “Just sitting here.” He was currently being untied by Joel.

Joel used the remains of the rope harness still around Fen to pull him back. “C’mere, baby. Let them talk.”

Milo glanced their way, a smile curving his lips.

The whole exchange had amused him, thankfully.

Another point in his favor.

Milo’s attention returned to her, and her breath caught at the way his gaze softened when he focused on her. Like he was happy to pay attention to her.

Like maybe he felt a little vulnerable right now, too.

The same way Joel looked at Fen.

“I’d like that,” Milo said. “I hope I wasn’t pressuring you to play, either. If you don’t want to play with me—”

“I do,” she said.

He nodded. “I did mention I’m new to this, right?”

“Yes. It’s okay. You won’t hurt me if you listen to me.”

“I also don’t want to trigger you or something. I don’t know anything about PTSD.”

“I have a really sensitive startle reflex. I don’t like large, packed crowds, so if going to concerts is a big deal, I’ll warn you now I’m not that girl.”

He shrugged. “Not a deal-breaker.”

“I don’t do fireworks.”

“Still with you.”

“I don’t like shouting. Not even for sporting events. And if I have a panic attack, do not under any circumstances hold me down.”

“Duly noted.”

“Okay, then. There’s more, but I promise I’ll not try to sleep-murder you more than three or four times, max.” He smiled. “See? I can joke about it.”

His smile faded. “I might not ever be ready to get married again,” he softly said. “Not after what I went through. Literally, my lawyer said he gives a free prenup with every divorce. I got fucked over by her in our relationship and in our divorce. That means I’ve got trust issues.”

“There, see? Something else we have in common.” His smile returned. “But if you wear socks with sandals, I’m sorry, we might as well stop talking now.”

That drew a laugh from him. “No socks and sandals. I promise.”

“Good. I can work with a lot. As long as you can.”

* * * *

“I can.”

Once class ended, Rusty showed Milo how to coil the ropes while Maddison went to change, with Eliza glued to her.

Milo had a better than odds-on suspicion he would be the topic of discussion.

“Well?” Rusty whispered.

“I like her. She’s nice. And she doesn’t think I’m an old geezer, so that’s a bonus.”

Fen walked over. “Did she tell you about me?”

“Something about a skillet, and she wasn’t kidding.”

He snorted. “I’ll do you a solid. You know what Sephora is?”

“It’s a store, I think.”

“Yep. Go to the one up at the big mall here in Sarasota. Ask for Toni, she’s usually there Tuesday through Saturday, afternoons to close. Ask her for Fen’s favorites, and she’ll set you up.” He patted him on the shoulder.

“For me, or for Mads?”

“Yes.” He grinned. “For you to use, and for Mads to appreciate you taking the effort to use.”

Joel looked on and wore an amused expression. “Does this make sense to you?” Milo asked him.

“Yep. Just go with it. He’s right.”

Milo was ready to go when Mads emerged from the bathroom.

Holy cow!

He now felt seriously underdressed. She looked stunning in a purple sundress. She’d let her hair down, brushed it out, and put on makeup.

And the stiletto sandals were at least four inches tall and gave her a sway to her hips that rehardened his cock.

But when she walked up to him, he spotted the vulnerability right there, the same look she’d worn in the picture Eliza had shown him.

“Ready?” he asked, holding out his arm for her to take.

Linda had never wanted to walk like that with him, had thought it beneath her.

Mads smiled and hooked her arm through his. “Ready.”

Once they were in the car and on their way to the restaurant, she spoke again. “Anything you want to ask, feel free to do so now, while we’re alone.”

“Like what?”

“Like…anything. All I ask is that you don’t talk about me to others without my permission. I’m trusting you because Eliza and June trust you.”

“I’d never talk about you behind your back, I swear.”

“Okay. And that goes for me, too.”

“Fen said he’s known you since you were kids?”

He glanced over and noticed she looked a little curious about his choice in questions. “Yeah. We grew up a few houses apart. Our parents are really good friends. He’s the only reason I survived middle and high school. He took on bullies for me.”

“How did your parents react when you came out to them?”

“Confused at first, but very supportive. I knew from when I was little that I was a girl. At first, they had me be Michael at school, but after school and on weekends, they let me be Maddison. The older I got, the more certain I was, and they found a good counsellor whose practice is specializing treating and supporting trans people and gender dysphoria. By the time I was eleven, they were certain Maddison was who I was, and let me start taking stuff to block puberty, because it looked like I was starting to head in that direction. Then hormones later. It’s a lot more complicated than that, but that’s the condensed version for tonight.

“Then, the summer before I went into high school, they worked with their attorney to legally change my name and my gender marker on all my records. They switched my school the next year, because they were afraid I’d be attacked by bullies. No one at the beginning of the next school year knew I’d been born Michael, except Fen. I was lucky I could pass as a girl without any trouble. I only had to take PE my freshman year, and I was very careful when dressing out and in. Our locker room had individual shower stalls. Mom scoped all that out ahead of time, or she would have gotten a doctor note excusing me from PE altogether. I was…really lucky. Newer school in a higher-income area. I am a best-case scenario all the way around, and don’t think I don’t recognize that. Many people aren’t a fraction as lucky as I’ve been.”

“You said there was a story behind your PTSD.”

It took her a moment to answer, and when she did, her voice sounded…quiet. “Yeah.”

“I’m sorry. You don’t have to answer that.”

“No, you need to know if this is going to go somewhere.” She turned in her seat. “Is this going to go somewhere?”

“I don’t know. I think I’d like it to, but we just met. I’m open to it going somewhere.”

She nodded, and then proceeded to tell him about being attacked in college.

How she’d trusted the fucker, thought he was open-minded.

How he’d attacked her when she told him she was trans.

How he’d beaten and raped her. Beat her and injured her so severely—inside and out—that she had to be hospitalized.

When she’d pressed charges, the DA declined to take it to trial because the guy claimed it was self-defense…and, well, Mads was trans, after all.

Apparently didn’t matter that the guy was huge and Mads was tiny, and in no way would she have been able to attack the guy.

Guy claimed the sex had been rough and consensual, not rape.

How Fen and her parents drove up and Fen took care of her, and she withdrew from school, Fen driving her home.

How Fen practically lived with her the first several days, holding her while she cried.

By the time Milo pulled into Sigalo’s parking lot, Maddison’s voice had grown so quiet he could barely hear her, and he felt like he wanted to hunt down the fucker who’d hurt her and kill him with his bare hands.

He shifted into park but left the engine running so they could talk with the AC on. He unfastened his seat belt and turned to face her. “How can you find it in you to trust any man after that?”

Her gaze searched his face. “It’s not easy. But that’s why Fen’s all over me tonight.”

And Milo understood why. Completely, and without an ounce of resentment now. “He loves you.”

“He’s amazing. He’s my best friend. Which is another thing you need to be aware of—my parents and his parents, and he and Joel, will be all over us, at first. You will probably have an easier time winning my trust than theirs.”

“Especially after what that asshole said to you in Miami.”

“Right.” She studied her hands. Her nails were painted a dark reddish brown with metallic flecks in them, professional, but still a little playful. “I’m a package deal.”

“I’m new to BDSM, so if this is a stupid question, I apologize. After what you went through, how can you be involved in BDSM?”

She shrugged. “I’m hard-wired kinky. I knew that even back in high school. Fen and I used to tie each other up for fun. Just like I was hard-wired to know I was a girl, even if the factory goofed when my chassis was built.” She smiled.

“If we keep seeing each other, will sex be on the table?” he asked.

“On the table, on the bed, on the couch…” Her smile faded. “Or was that leading to another question?”

“I’m not used to talking like this.”

“It can be unnerving. It gets easier, I promise. But getting it out now is better than getting hurt later.”

He took a deep breath and forced himself to ask it. “You said your…parts don’t work like mine.”

She nodded. “Outside of the doctor’s office, I don’t like to call it my penis and my balls. But every trans woman is different. Some can’t wait to have bottom surgery. Some never want to have bottom surgery. Some hate their body and need surgery to feel complete. I personally have never felt like that. For me, once I started taking the puberty blockers and other hormones, and we got my marker and name changed, I felt complete. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah.”

“But a side effect of taking all that when I did was two-part. It helped me avoid needing some surgeries, like to shave down an Adam’s apple, or facial surgery to narrow my jaw. I grew breasts I’m happy with, so I didn’t need implants. But it also means that my penis and balls aren’t as big as I’m sure yours probably are. I also don’t have erections or orgasm the same way you do.”

He was trying to process that. “You can’t have sex?”

“Oh, I absolutely can have sex, and I enjoy it. But unless you’re patient and willing to let me show you how my body works, it’s going to be unsatisfying as hell for me, which will make me resentful as hell, and pretty much guarantee the relationship as a whole will go to hell.” She had an adorable smirk when she was being snarky.

“And if I’m patient and open to learning?”

Her soft inhale tugged at his heart. “Please don’t lead me on,” she whispered. “I’ve been through enough. I’m giving you permission to be a gentleman and let me have my dignity, so that we both win. I’ll let you walk away at the end of the night and I’ll tell everyone we had a great time, and then I’ll blame it on me, and say you’re a perfectly sweet guy but not my type. No one will hate you, I swear.”

“What if I don’t want to walk away?” Fuck, what he wanted to do was bundle her up in bubble wrap, take her home, and keep her talking.

Keep her making those sweet eyes at him, and keep watching the way she bit her lower lip when she was nervous.

“I want someone who will love me for who I am, the way I am. I want someone who wants to take care of me as a person and a partner and a woman at home. Someone I can trust enough to turn myself over to and know they won’t harm me.”

She took a deep breath. “I’m tired of having to be tough all the time. I want a guy who can wrap me in his arms and say, ‘Baby, I’ve got you,’ and mean it. A guy who won’t get tired of me in a month or a year and walk away from me because I’m not a ‘real’ woman to them.”

She blinked back tears. “I want someone who wants to be with me and only me, like Rusty is with Eliza, and Scrye is with June, and still looking at me like that after all those years together.”

He slowly reached out and gently cupped her cheek, his pulse racing when she nuzzled her face against his hand. “Baby,” he gently said, “please give me a chance, and let’s get to know each other. We just met, so I can’t promise you forever tonight. I swore I’d never get married again, so it’s too soon for me to think about that yet. But I promise I’ll never lie to you or lead you on or cheat on you. Will that work for now?”

She laid her hand over his and turned to kiss his palm. “Yeah. That’ll work for now.”

Chapter Twelve

He had her wait to get out while he walked around the car, opened the door for her, and offered his hand.

When she got out, Mads stared up into his eyes and hoped she wasn’t about to get her heart broken.

He didn’t let go of her hand after closing her door. He held hands with her all the way inside, even though Fen and Joel stood outside and waited for them.

She hadn’t missed that Joel had grabbed Fen when they’d first parked and he’d tried to get out and walk over to Milo’s car.

But she’d been too focused on her conversation with Milo to wave him off.

This was happening at a spooky-fast rate, but even though she’d wanted to tell Fen he was an idiot for falling for Joel so fast…yeah. She got it.

There was a security blanket there, knowing other people had already checked this person out and green-lit them meeting.

It was a very heady feeling indeed.

Inside, Milo held her chair for her and helped her scoot it in before sitting on her left. She also didn’t miss that, when they went to order, he told the waitress that her dinner was on his check.

“Thank you,” she said. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

He shrugged. “Thank you for trusting me and being honest with me today. I know my situation doesn’t come close to yours, but I never had this kind of honesty with her in seven years with her.”

“Wow.”

“That pretty much sums it up, yeah.”

“So what are you doing tomorrow?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Trying to decide what to paint my dang living room. Maybe going out furniture shopping. I’d invite you over to hang out, but I don’t even have a couch. I haven’t had much luck finding what I want.”

“Hmm.”

“What?”

She smiled. “I’m really good at decorating. Especially on a budget. And I have a couple of things I could loan you that I’m not using right now. They’re just sitting in Fen’s garage. Like a couch, and a comfortable chair, and a small dinette set.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Come over and have brunch with us tomorrow and look at it. No pressure. If you like it, we can rent a truck and move it over. And I can help you pick paint.”

On his far side, Fen was grinning, nodding, and giving her a thumbs-up.

“You might regret offering to help me pick paint,” Milo said. “I’m proving very indecisive right now.”

“Then how about you buy me dinner tomorrow night? Or we can order pizza and keep painting.”

“You’re going to help me paint?”

“Absolutely.”

He chuckled. “Now I know you’re a masochist.”

* * * *

As dinner went on, something big hit Milo squarely between the eyes.

I haven’t had this much fun in years.

And it felt right.

Felt right in a way being with Linda had never felt.

Ever.

He wasn’t much of a believer in love at first sight, but he also wasn’t a dumbass who would deny there was something special about Mads. The way she made him laugh. The way she seemed genuinely interested in what he had to say. The way she spoke her mind and made him think.

Honestly, he would have sat there all night and just talked to her if it wasn’t for the fact that everyone started asking for their checks and he realized what time it was. Nearly two hours had passed in a flash.

And he couldn’t tell anyone what everyone else had been talking about. He’d been focused only on her.

They held hands on the way out to the car, and once they were inside, he sat there for a moment. “Okay, so listen. I’m not going to be an idiot. As we spend more time together, if you decide you want to have sex with me, I’m going to let you set that timetable, okay?”

“There’s only one condition that would happen under,” she said.

“Okay.”

“We need to be exclusive. Either until we do that, or decide no, we’re not going to take this to that level.”

“Agreed. As long as we don’t take, like, five years to get there.”

She laughed. “Oh, nooo.”

“What?”

She turned in her seat and rested her hand on his thigh. “I will know a lot sooner than that.”

He rested his hand over hers. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She crooked a finger at him to lean in, and when he did, she brushed a kiss across his lips, so fast he almost couldn’t process it.

His gaze held hers and he noted the way her blue eyes now looked darker in the waning light, the green more noticeable.

“Baby,” he softly said, “I promise I’ll take good care of you.”

Her lower lip caught under her teeth again as she stared up into his eyes. “Please don’t make me promises you don’t intend to keep.”

“I intend on showing you I mean to keep that promise.”

Back at the club, they were able to bypass the line to get inside because of their wristbands. Fen and Joel had hung back at the restaurant, waiting on them to leave to follow them in their car.

Milo didn’t mind in the least. Especially now that he knew about Maddison’s past. It was definitely something they’d need to talk about more in-depth and alone, but he knew he’d tread carefully.

He wouldn’t make her any promises he didn’t think he could keep.

He would take his time and cherish their time together.

If nothing else, even if this didn’t work out for them, it showed him the truth he’d struggled to accept—there was life after Linda. There were other women out there who would see him as attractive.

The problem with Linda hadn’t been him, as she’d tried to claim.

Because even in the beginning, he’d struggled and chased her and never felt a fraction of the attraction from or to her as he felt to Maddison.

At some point as they stood talking with Joel and Fen and others, he’d gone from holding hands with her to standing with his arm draped around her shoulders and her tucked comfortably against his side.

Like she was meant to be there all along.

He wasn’t even sure when it’d happened, or when she’d slipped her arm around his waist.

“You know,” he said, “I could drive you home tonight and take a look at the furniture then. That way, I’d know where I’m going tomorrow, and I could borrow a pick-up from my brother to get everything.”

She stared up at him, then jumped when Fen goosed her ass.

“Say yes!” he hissed at her, flashing a smile at Milo and making him laugh.

She blushed, but focused on Milo again. “Okay, yes. Thank you.”

* * * *

They’d been there for at least an hour and he hadn’t made any move to play with her yet.

She wanted her spanking, dammit.

That wasn’t a bratty thing, it was a needy thing, now.

Her brain craved the thought of sinking into subspace and curling up in Milo’s arms for aftercare.

She managed to edge them away from the conversation and over to the other side of the space, where only a couple of people were playing. “I’d really like that spanking, if you feel up to it.”

He nodded, and now she detected a hint of nervous energy about him.

“After we’re done, I’d like aftercare with you, please.”

“Cuddling?”

“Cuddling. In fact…” She turned and looked. “We could do the spanking and the aftercare in the same place. There are plenty of open couches.”

“I’ve never negotiated a scene before.”

She stepped closer. “Bare-handed spanking over my panties. As hard and long as you’d like, and I’ll give you a yellow or red if it gets to be too much.”

“And then…cuddling?” he asked.

“And then cuddling.”

“That sounds too easy.”

“We’ll start slow.” She draped her arms around his neck. “I have a couple of paddles and other toys I really enjoy, but I didn’t bring those with me tonight. I can work you up to using those on me, if you’d like.”

“I’m not sure I’m ever going to be a sadist.”

“I don’t need a heavy sadist. I just need a guy who’s not afraid to take control, but not in an assholish way.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“I’ll be right back. I need to use the restroom and tell Fen not to come charging into my scene.”

“You think he’d do that? Wait, what am I saying, of course he would.”

“I have bestie baggage,” she joked before heading off. She told Fen what was going on and quickly used the restroom, grabbed herself a bottle of water, and chose a fleece throw from the shelf of them available for use free.

When she’d returned to Milo, he’d picked a sofa and sat waiting for her.

Slowing up, she took her time, rolling her hips as she walked and noting with satisfaction how he sat up a little straighter at her approach, hunger appearing in his gaze.

Thaaaat…

If she could keep him looking like that at her, she’d be a very happy girl.

She was under no illusions, though. He could be fine now, and the reality later send him running for the hills. This was no guaranteed happy ending for her.

But it was a promising start, so she’d settle for that, for now.

She laid the blanket next to him on the sofa. “Lefty, or righty?”

“Huh?”

He was an adorable baby Dom. “Left- or right-handed?”

“Oh. Right.”

She noted with more than a little satisfaction how his eyes widened when she grabbed the hem of her sundress and peeled it up and off, neatly folding it and setting it on the back of the sofa. No, she wasn’t wearing a bra. She knew how to play dirty.

She knelt next to him on the couch, keeping the shoes on.

Yeah, that was also mean of her, playing dirty like that, but what straight guy didn’t like seeing heels on a nearly naked woman stretched out over their lap?

She made sure to wiggle plenty while getting into position and felt how hard he was through his slacks.

When he seemed afraid to touch her, she reached up behind her, found his left hand, and pulled it down over the back of her neck. “You can hold me down. If you do it right, I’m going to squirm at least a little bit. That’s part of the fun, for me.”

His right hand caressed her ass cheeks, and she sighed in contentment. “That’s it, Sir,” she said without thinking it through.

Fuck it, it felt right.

* * * *

Terror filled Milo. Now knowing what she’d been through, he didn’t want to…harm her.

But there she was, wiggling that gorgeous ass at him—after showing him her beautiful, perky breasts, holy crap, he could cut diamonds with his cock right now—and wanting him to spank her.

He stroked her ass for a minute, thinking about the spanking scenes he’d watched in previous weeks, and squeezed her right ass cheek, then the left. She let out a happy moan and wiggled against him again. At this rate, he’d be creaming his briefs.

Finally, he forced himself to lift his hand and bring it down on her right ass cheek.

“Mmmm. Harder, Sir.”

Fuck!

Okay, that was making his cock throb, too, her calling him that. He shelved it in the “to think about later” section of his brain and spanked her again.

And again.

Once she got him into the zone, she did squirm, wiggle, moan, and arch her back to stick her ass out for more. By the time his hand stung to the point he needed to stop, a glance at the clock on the wall showed they’d been at it for nearly forty-five minutes.

He turned her over on his lap and curled her into his arms, draping the fleece throw over her. Unable to help himself, he nuzzled his face in her silky hair, inhaling, smelling strawberries and peaches.

His new favorite scent.

“Baby, I’ve got you,” he whispered, loving the way she snuggled even tighter against him, pulling his arms around her.

Then she looked up into his eyes and tipped her face back, kissing him. This wasn’t the quick brush of before. This was a full-on, please-fuck-me kiss.

She reached up, wonder filling her gaze, her fingertips stroking his jaw, his chin, over his lips. He flicked out his tongue and caught one finger, gently sucking on it.

She was beautiful and sweet and smart…

And she apparently liked him.

He wanted to kiss her again but was afraid it might quickly devolve into breaking a club rule about no sex.

Instead, he nuzzled his forehead against hers and breathed in her scent while wishing this night would never end.

All the while, he prayed he hadn’t just gotten his heart broken again.

Chapter Thirteen

Mads was flying. Wasn’t the best or even hardest spanking she’d ever received, but emotionally it was the most satisfying scene she’d ever had.

If she was stupid to trust Milo, then she was the last stupid person in a long line of stupid people who’d known Milo for years, in some cases longer than she’d even been alive.

She didn’t want to get up, didn’t want to move.

Didn’t want to be anywhere but there in his arms.

Baby, I’ve got you.

His soft, gentle voice echoed through her soul. She hadn’t realized how literally she’d needed to hear those words from someone until he spoke them to her.

His soul speaking to hers.

When she finally came back to herself, she realized she was staring up into his eyes and he watched her like he could sit there all night and do it.

“Feel like taking me home now?” It was the way his brow furrowed that told her he’d misinterpreted why. “I mean, to give us time alone. I want to be alone with you.”

He looked like he wanted to kiss her, so she closed the distance and did. Hunger purred just behind his lips, unseen but there, tasting, ready to pounce on her.

She draped her arms around him. “They have a pool. Do you like skinny-dipping?”

He smiled. “I could be persuaded.”

He helped her pull her sundress on and kept an arm around her for the walk back to the other side.

Fen had been watching and waiting, because he sat up where he’d been seated at one of the tables in the social area and tapped Joel on the shoulder.

She led Milo over. “We’re going to head out early,” she said. “You two…keep it late, please? And maybe don’t come out onto the lanai when you get home. Going to enjoy the pool.”

“Ah.” Fen stood and hugged her, then offered Milo a hug.

She was grateful to see Milo didn’t appear to be reluctant to hug him.

But Fen did wag a finger at Milo. “I wield a mean skillet. Just keep that in mind.”

Milo nodded. “I will.”

Eliza walked over. “Annnnd?”

She hugged her, too. “I’m going to steal Milo away early from you all tonight.”

“Excellent. Good luck, you two.” Eliza hugged Milo, too, and whispered something to him Mads couldn’t hear.

After a round of hugs and good-byes with the others, Milo took her hand and led her out to his car.

He was a gentleman and a little bit naughty. It was a combination that worked well for him.

And he was so fucking tall!

She loved that.

After giving him directions, she settled into the seat and rested her hand on his thigh, wondering if he’d let her get playful with him.

“You did say I could set the pace, right?”

“I did.”

“I don’t suppose you have a recent test, do you?”

“At home. Six months ago was my last one. I had several rounds done after I found out she’d been cheating on me.”

“Okay.” That was good.

Not the cheating, the test results.

“I have condoms,” she said.

“Okay.”

“Thoughts?”

“That this is moving fast, and I am horny as hell and not thinking straight right now, and don’t want to tell you no.”

“Then don’t tell me no. We’re adults. I don’t need you being a guardian of my virtue.” She eased her fingers toward his inseam.

“To be clear…”

When he didn’t finish that, she finally let him off the hook. “I’m saying I want to at least play around tonight. Maybe not full-on intercourse, but I think a round of mutual orgasms is in order for having a very fun afternoon and scene.”

He nodded. “Okay, then.” At the next stoplight, he reached down and pulled her hand onto his crotch, where his thick cock lay pressing against the zipper. “Just wanted to make sure.”

Thank you gay baby Jesus! The man was definitely hung.

They arrived at Fen and Joel’s without her making him wreck the car from how she was distracting him. After disarming the alarm, she led him inside.

“Oh! Hold on, let’s handle this first.” She led him by the hand to the garage and flipped the light on. “Voila.”

The furniture lay under plastic drop cloths to protect everything from dust. Her sectional sofa was comfy and versatile, one of the reasons she’d loved it so much. She could rearrange it as needed to fit a room.

His eyes widened. “Oh, wow! That’s perfect. I might ask to buy it from you.”

“Nope.” She draped her arms around his neck. “But I might be talked into taking it in trade.” She wiggled her hips against him, making him laugh.

“I’ve never fucked for furniture before, but I think I could be persuaded.” She loved the way his hands cupped her ass perfectly.

After turning off the lights, she led him out through the pool bath to the lanai. “Let me grab us towels and supplies.”

“Okay.”

* * * *

He kicked off his shoes and yanked off his socks while waiting for her to return.

Holy shit!

Milo was beyond questioning this, beyond doubting, beyond slowing his roll and cooling things off.

He’d told her she could have control of this timetable, and like hell would he deny her if she wanted it.

When she returned with the towels, he saw she’d pulled her hair up into a messy bun on the top of her head, and she looked a little shy now. When she set everything down on the pool deck, near the steps, he understood why. She’d included lube and a couple of condom pouches, and a…toy?

She rejoined him, and he realized she’d kicked her shoes off, too.

“How do you want me, Sir?” she asked.

He kissed her, taking control of it and forcing himself to slow it the hell down, drop a gear or push the clutch in and coast—anything.

Because he felt like he was on a downhill switchback with an out-of-control truck full of dynamite.

“Lady’s choice,” he finally managed.

She stepped away from him and pulled the dress off, dropping it to the lanai and leaving her standing there in only her panties.

He unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt and pulled it off, dropping it to the ground.

She walked around to the stairs and turned away from him, sliding her panties down and off before stepping into the water and quickly sinking up to her neck turning to face him.

He fumbled his belt, finally got his slacks and briefs down and off, and did a cannonball into the deep end, making her laughter echo off the water and sliding glass doors and concrete of the lanai deck.

She swam out to him and he opened his arms to her, reaching for her, pulling her in for a long, deep kiss. If someone had told him this was how his evening would end tonight, he would have laughed in their faces.

Insta-love wasn’t a thing. It was bullshit and romance books and wishful damn thinking. But the chemistry between them absolutely couldn’t be denied.

Well, it could, but he didn’t fucking want to.

Between them, Milo’s cock rubbed against her stomach and he groaned with need when she wrapped her legs around his waist.

Her fingers curled around his cock, gently squeezing and pulling a deep, needy moan from him. He slanted his lips over hers again, kissing her, swallowing her, wanting to become part of her soul, he ached so badly. All over. Inside and out.

Desperate loneliness finally recognized and keening for someone to soothe him.

He eased them into shallower water so his feet touched bottom as she slowly stroked his cock. Velvet heat gently stroked his dick as he kissed her, falling, helpless to say no, helpless to stop the landslide rushing at him and threatening to carry him away. Her hand expertly gripped him and he throbbed against her flesh, his body unused to someone else’s hand holding his cock but damned if it didn’t feel amazing.

He had never been in love before, ever. Not if this was a hint of what it felt like. How sad that he’d thought he’d had love, had romance, and in a few short hours this beautiful woman had swept aside everything he’d known about the flat landscape of love and showed him it was, in fact, round.

Infinite.

He cupped one hand behind her neck to hold her in place and keep kissing her, the other kneaded her ass, holding her hips tight against his as she quickly stroked his cock toward an explosion. This would be the Krakatoa of Cum.

Maybe it was a damn good thing they were in the pool.

He pressed his forehead against hers, unable to keep his eyes open now. “Please, please, please,” he heard someone begging, and it was from his own lips.

She whispered back to him.

“Come for me, Sir.”

White heat contracted at the base of his cock, his balls tightening before the rebound supernova slammed into him. She covered his lips with hers, swallowing his cries while her hand sped up, milking his cum from him, drawing his orgasm out, until he nearly collapsed under the weight of the knowledge that his universe had just experienced the mother of all Big Bangs.

“Fucking hell, it never feels that good when I do it to myself.”

He didn’t realize he’d said it out loud until she giggled. He opened his eyes to find her staring at him.

Waiting.

He pulled her in for another kiss, slower and sweeter and not nearly as come-drunk as he hoped to be in about an hour after round two.

Because there would be a round two.

First, though, he wanted to hear her moan.

“Your turn, baby,” he whispered against her lips as he eased them over toward the steps.

And he realized that would forever be his pet name for her—cherished and treasured, and dammit, he’d just sworn weeks ago he’d never fucking get married again, and now he wanted to go do dumb shit, like pick out china patterns with her and beg her to let him spend the rest of his life trying not to embarrass her with how stupid happy she made him feel.

“What’s the toy for?” he asked.

Even in the dim light he saw her blush. “Plan B, in case we need it. Sometimes, a girl needs a little assist.”

She had him sit midway up on the steps and she nestled against him, her back pressed against his chest. They hadn’t turned on any lights, but in the dim glow from the moon and stars and security lights a few houses over, there was just enough to see by. She draped her legs over his thighs, and he realized he could spread his legs and open her wider.

A shiver rippled through her and she tipped her head back, her face pressed against his neck, her breath warm against his flesh.

“Yes,” she whispered.

She placed her hands over his and started showing him how to map her body, cupping her breasts—at least those he knew what to do with—kneading them, rolling her nipples between his fingers and pulling adorable little squeaks and moans from her as he did.

Only when she was squirming in his arms did she drift lower, tracing slow circles up and down her abs, along her thighs, lower. Between her legs, where she showed him where to rub, where to press, where to stroke and glide.

At some point he’d started nibbling on the side of her neck, her throat open and exposed to him. He wanted to bite and suck, leave marks branding her as his now, but knew that might be pushing things a little fast.

That could be date two.

Or, maybe tomorrow morning, if he even made it home tonight. Right now, he was thinking falling asleep curled around her body was looking really damn good.

Focus, idiot!

* * * *

Mads wasn’t sure if she’d get over like this tonight or need the assist. It’d been a couple of days since she’d masturbated, but she also felt nervous as hell. So far, Milo was effortlessly stitching her heart to his in a way she’d never thought possible before.

Ever.

He let her hands guide his, taking every nuance, every nudge, paying attention and not trying to take control.

There’d be plenty of time for that, once he’d memorized the owner’s manual.

For now, if they weren’t going to get stuck off in the weeds, she needed to be driving this car.

He seemed to be a very fast learner, too, for which she was grateful. And when his lips closed over her neck and he raked his teeth along her flesh, it nearly tripped her over the edge then.

Holy shit!

She guided his hands up to her breasts again, loving the feel of his large, strong hands on her skin, the way the pads of his thumbs brushed over her nipples. Electricity surged from her nipples to her core, amping her desire to insane levels she could never remember feeling before.

In his arms, she felt beautiful, cherished.

Desired.

“Like that?” he whispered in her ear, making her shiver.

“Yes!”

Need overrode trying to take things slow-ish. With her pulse pounding in her brain, she guided his hands down again, between her legs. Definitely a quick learner, he remembered what she’d shown him earlier and when she eased her grip on his hand and let him take the lead, he seemed to know exactly what she needed.

As she tipped her head back onto his shoulder, his lips trailed up and down the side of her neck. He nibbled on her earlobe, his breath soft in her ear, a little ragged around the edges.

Everything in her told her to let go, give in.

To trust.

She pressed her body against his, arching her back a little and loving the sweet contrast of the way the hair on his body felt slightly coarse against her flesh.

Strong, tall, firm muscles—he was everything she could have asked for and wanted if custom-building a boyfriend from scratch.

And she got to teach him about being a Dom?

Yes, please!

It meant that, together, they could explore and find what would work for both of them, play with limits and techniques.

He was willing to learn what she needed to take care of her. No macho bullshit with him. Quiet surety, yes, but that was even sexier when combined with his overall package.

Milo’s literal package was nothing to sneeze at, either. Pressed against her lower back, she felt stirrings of interest from his cock, which was trying to reharden.

Thank you, Universe!

Passion and pleasure and time melded together and flowed around them like the warm water cradling their bodies. And when her body finally gave it up and tripped over the edge, her climax stronger than she could ever remember feeling before, she gasped, found her mouth covered by his and swallowing her cries as his hands worked with her, faster, harder, until she finally pressed and held him, stilling him for a moment before pulling his arms tightly around her.

Her eyes fell closed and she lay there, afraid to move, afraid this spell would shatter, afraid the dream would end and she’d awaken alone in bed in Miami and wondering how to dodge creepy Holmes.

Milo brought one hand up and cupped her cheek, holding her in place to kiss her again. “Yeah, we’re going to need to do that again,” he hoarsely said. “As in right now. I gotta hear you make those sounds again, baby.”

She shivered against him, not cold, but needy, like a branch giving in front of the press of the wind, helpless against it. “We’ll need Plan B this soon.”

“Then let’s break out Plan B, baby.” She opened her eyes and found his hunger burning there. “Because I want to give you every reason to keep saying yes to me and this.”

Chapter Fourteen

Twenty minutes later, Plan B turned into her limply lying in his arms, shuddering with the echoes of her second orgasm in such a short amount of time turning her body to something with the stiffness of uncooked pizza dough.

He pulled the toy from her, smiling as he figured out how to shut it off and he set it on the side. Then he gathered her in his arms and moved them into deeper water where he held her cradled against him.

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“You’re hard again, Sir.” Even calling him that felt right, natural.

“Mmm-hmm. Right now, I want to hold my baby and enjoy this moment.”

She wasn’t even sure if Fen and Joel had come home yet. She honestly hadn’t been listening. If they had, they were giving them privacy.

Fuck it. She’d used enough lube with the toy that it should be fine. And if he was a liar, then no number of people vetting him would protect her from him. She turned in his arms, reaching under him and pressing the head of his cock against her.

He froze. “Baby—”

“Shh. I want this.” She wrapped her legs around him and rocked herself onto his cock, loving it when his hands grabbed her ass and held on, fingers digging in.

“Fuck, baby!” he gasped.

“No, Sir. Fuck me.” She kissed him, a surge of desire rushing through her as he took over and fucked her.

Okay, she hadn’t meant to end the evening getting fucked bareback in her bestie’s pool, but it wasn’t the worst way to end an evening.

Not by a long-shot.

The sweet, desperate moan that rolled from Milo when he exploded inside her would forever remain tattooed on her soul. He fell still, tightly holding her body against his.

“Please stay the night,” she whispered.

His grip on her tightened, felt like maybe forever.

Maybe.

She hoped.

“Yes, baby,” he said. “I’ll stay the night.”

He literally carried her out of the pool, and it was absolutely the most romantic thing she’d ever felt in her life. He carefully set her on her feet and grabbed a towel, wrapping it around her before he took the other one and dried off, draping it around his hips. Then he gathered their clothes while she washed the toy off in the pool, and they snuck inside like a couple of teenagers trying not to get caught.

That’s what she felt like, anyway.

She didn’t turn the light on until after her bedroom door was securely locked behind them. Then she flipped the switch that turned on the lamp by her bed.

In the dim light, their gazes met and he leaned in for another kiss. “I think we talked about taking this slow.”

She giggled. “We did.”

“That was slow?”

“I’d say we could try glacial, but that’d be a miserable damn week.”

He pulled her into his arms. “I don’t want to fuck this up. Please, don’t let me fuck this up.”

“I can forgive a lot of things as long as you don’t lie to me or cheat on me. I don’t expect you to be an expert in all things Mads the first night. Just be…you.”

They finished drying off and curled up together in her queen-sized bed, stretched at an angle so his feet didn’t hang off the end.

Curled in his arms, she realized even if this ended tomorrow, it’d still been the best night of her damned life.

Now if they could just keep having this kind of perfection, life would be…

Amazing.

* * * *

“Well? What do you think?”

Milo had been dubious at first, but damned if he wasn’t going to yes-dear Mads anytime he could.

Including letting her put dark blue paint on one wall of his living room, and using a much lighter shade on the other walls.

The wall in question was the one where his TV was mounted, and where he wanted to install wall-mounted shelves to hold the books that were now homeless and stacked in his spare bedroom.

Now he could see what she meant, though.

“You’re right. The black shelves will look perfect with that color.”

She smiled up at him. She was wearing one of his old T-shirts over her shorts, because he didn’t want her getting paint all over the adorable tank-top she’d put on that morning.

Late morning.

Okay, one-thirty, when they’d finally emerged from her bedroom after Fen played dirty and ran the coffee grinder for about five minutes solid.

That was after they’d spent the morning making love and Mads showed him more fun ways to make her make those perfect little squeals and moans.

And after she’d gone down on him, and swallowed a load of his cum and showed him yet another thing he’d apparently been missing out on.

Not only could Maddison suck a cock, she seemed to have fun doing it, enjoyed it, wanted to do it.

Unlike Milo’s ex, who could barely be bothered to touch his cock.

Besides, Linda had been too busy fucking everyone but him to pay attention to his cock.

Now it was nearly six o’clock Sunday night. They’d skipped moving the furniture today, because they went to his house first, where Mads looked at the walls, immediately declared he’d gone the wrong way in trying to stay light with color, followed by a trip to the home improvement store, and back—where she had managed to perfectly achieve the effect he hadn’t known he’d needed.

But damned if it wasn’t exactly what he’d wanted in the first place.

His gaze returned to her, to her sweet blue eyes, how happy she looked staring at a damn wall, of all things.

That’s when the wheels almost fell off.

“Move in with me,” he heard someone who sounded like him saying.

Yeah, he heard the record screech.

She looked up at him. “What?”

He wasn’t sure he had the balls to say it again, but he licked his lips and forced it out. “Move in with me.”

She stared at him so long and hard he could almost hear the paint drying on the walls.

“Why?” she whispered.

Fuck it, how could he make things worse?

“Because I’m scared I’m going to do something stupid, and you’ll see what a dumbass I am, and you’ll find a better guy than me, younger than me, not stupid like me.”

She stared at him another forever or so. “Three weeks,” she softly said.

“Wait…what?”

“Three weeks. I come over, we spend nights together. We move my furniture in from the garage, because, damn, we need a fucking couch.”

Then she smiled and met his gaze again, and his fear vanished like smoke in a stiff breeze. “Three weeks,” she softly repeated. She nodded for emphasis.

“Why three weeks?”

“Because that’s when my parents leave for their cruise with my sister and her husband. That’ll give us at least two weeks of not being bothered every damn day by them wanting to come check on me. Meaning another two weeks for us, while they’re gone, to make sure we haven’t screwed up. Then Fen and Joel can help me move the rest of my stuff over.”

“That’s…so that’s a yes?”

“Yes, Sir. That’s a yes.”

“Yes! YES!” He picked her up and swung her around, thinking maybe he’d gone crazy, maybe he’d died and this was heaven, or maybe he was in a coma in a hospital or something.

He didn’t fucking care.

She laughed. “Just one condition.”

“Name it.”

She smiled. “You have to tell Fen and Joel, Sir.”

* * * *

Well, he didn’t die.

When he drove them back to Joel and Fen’s house later that evening, he imagined a lot of possible reactions from the men.

He didn’t expect to immediately receive hugs and congratulations without a single objection.

“Okay, why aren’t you killing me?” he asked as Fen hugged him.

“Because I talked to Eliza a couple of hours ago,” Fen said. “She told me if she was wrong about you that she’d personally come kill you herself. Now, I don’t know about you, but she terrifies the fuck out of me. So…” He shrugged, then grinned. “And, damn, y’all are loud,” he teased.

Mads’ face turned dark red. “Oh, my god, Fen!”

He giggled. “Love you, bestie. Did you tell him we’re into pole dancing?”

Milo arched an eyebrow. “Holding out on me, are you, baby?”

She rolled her eyes. “I just started with June last week. Fen’s way better than I am.”

“Not tonight, because we need to get back to the house for more painting, but I think I’m going to want a demonstration soon.”

Joel laughed. “We have our own pole. Which totally sounds dirtier than it is. Feel free to drop by and use it until you can install your own.”

She shook her head. “Red. We can’t install our own pole. My mom would see that. So would my dad.” She nodded, indicating Fen and Joel. “We’ll come over here and borrow theirs.”

“Your mom liked the video of me dancing in the club, thanks to Sir posting it on Facebook the next week,” Fen said. “She is not innocent.”

“I don’t care. I’m going to have a hard enough time getting them to go home and leave us alone without them thinking he’s turning me into some sort of sex slave or something.”

All three men arched eyebrows at her.

Apparently, she realized what she said. “Okay, you all know damn well this is a different kind of sex slave than what I said. Sheesh. Wait, are y’all like a voting block now that are going to overrule me and stuff?”

“Hmm.” Milo looked at Fen and Joel. “I don’t know. A smart man would make sure to stay on bestie’s best side.”

Fen giggled. “I gotta say, Mads, I really like him.”

Chapter Fifteen

Milo helped Maddison pack some stuff, enough for that night.

And…other things.

Like the toy for Plan B, lube, condoms, and some of her implements so she could show him a few things.

Okay, a lot of things.

Like, everything.

He wanted to learn everything.

She was still honestly shocked that Fen and Joel—especially Fen—had accepted this whole situation so…easily.

She had to ask it. “Why are you okay with this and not warning me to slow down?”

Fen held up his left hand and waggled his fingers at her, meaning his wedding band. “You see that?”

“Uh, duh.”

“Same people who helped introduce you two introduced us. Now, maybe I wasn’t so much of a believer before Joel and I met, but they know their stuff. And we’re not the only ones they’ve had success with. Why should I doubt what I know is a proven system?”

Joel was standing there, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. “I gotta admit, he’s right. I was gunshy and really wary. They won me over with their success rate.”

He tipped his head toward Milo. “As I’ve gotten to know them all, I’ve learned what great people they are. Eliza and June will be two of the first people jumping in to protect others. No way would they have introduced you two if they didn’t think this was worth exploring.”

“You have the seal of approval of the Frightful Five,” Fen added with a grin. “That’s good enough for me.”

On the way back to Milo’s house, they stopped by the grocery store to pick up some stuff for dinner. Mads couldn’t remember the last time she’d gone grocery shopping with someone besides Fen or her parents.

He let her push the cart, but he was always touching her—a hand in the small of her back, his arm draped over her shoulders, playing with her hair—like he couldn’t believe she was real and there and wouldn’t suddenly disappear in a puff of smoke.

If she wasn’t so eager to have him touch her, she might take time to feel sorry for him, that he was apparently starved for affection.

She could relate. At least she could grab TV snuggles with Fen and Joel and not worry about it getting creepy.

Straight guys didn’t have it so easy.

While they’d been painting, he’d told her more about his marriage and divorce and part of her simultaneously seethed and rejoiced that Linda was so damn stupid as to cheat on a guy like Milo.

A man who—verified by those who knew him—would rather cut off a finger than cheat.

A man who wanted nothing more than someone to love and be loved by.

A man who might be a baby Dom, but even in the little gestures, Mads could spot her baby Dom wanting to stretch his wings and grow.

I get to be the one to teach him.

It threatened to take her breath away, the sheer perfection spinning out ahead of her in real time.

* * * *

Milo had never had a panic attack before, but wondered if it felt like this—pulse racing, difficult to catch his breath, and his mind spinning out in a thousand directions at once.

Like he could see their future rolling out in front of them, and in it, he was…

Happy.

Like, really happy.

He thought back to what Fen and Joel said about the “Frightful Five,” as they were called.

How they did their research.

He was under no illusions that Mads felt comfortable with him in no small part because Fen and Joel felt comfortable with him.

And they felt comfortable with him because he was vetted and vouched for.

That worked both ways.

Why shouldn’t he embrace this, embrace Maddison and what beautiful surprises this might hold for them?

Right there, in the middle of the frozen foods aisle, he stopped her with a gentle hand on her arm and turned her to face him.

“I’m in this for the long-term,” he said. “In case that wasn’t clear. I’m not interested in this just being fuck-buddies or friends with bennies. I’m interested in making this work for the long-haul.”

She cocked her head as she stared up at him, her ponytail bouncing a little as she did, and he remembered her standing in his living room with his T-shirt covering her.

“Me, too,” she softly said.

He thought he might need to yank open one of those freezer compartments and grab something to cool his cock down, because his body seemed to have an automatic reaction to her, and his cock wanted to get hard.

Not wanted to—was.

Even in the early days with Linda, when he thought they were deliriously happy, he could never remember feeling like this about her.

“Don’t let me screw this up,” he softly begged. “Please. I know I’m supposed to be the Dom, here, but I’ll grovel if I have to. I’ve never felt like this before, and that terrifies me in good ways.”

She stepped closer. “Me, too.”

He wanted to plunge his hands in her hair and kiss her right there—

Fuck it.

He did.

Right there in the middle of the grocery store, with the frozen veggies as their witness, he held her head in his hands and kissed her long and deeply and wishing he could sweep her into his bed instead of through the checkout line.

With his mouth slanted over hers, her lips parted for him as he brushed his tongue along the seam. He finished the kiss cupping her cheeks in his hands, his forehead pressed against hers.

“Please tell me you’re terrified,” he whispered.

She laid her hands over his. “Petrified.”

Relief whooshed out of him. “Thank christ,” he said, chuckling. “I’d feel really stupid if I was the only one scared.”

She stared up into his eyes, the sweet green tones visible among the blue. “Don’t ever lie to me,” she said. “Even if you think it sounds stupid. I’d rather laugh with you over your honesty than ever have a reason to think you weren’t giving me one-hundred-percent honesty.”

* * * *

Fucking.

Adorable.

Mads knew some women wanted the confident, maybe even cocky kind of Dom.

Over that, she would always pick the honest guy.

Every damn time.

A guy she didn’t have to worry blowing up at her.

A guy who had a proven track record in the fidelity department.

A guy she didn’t have to worry about putting her in the hospital because he’d caused her injuries.

“How about we wrap this up, Sir?” she asked. “We can go home, cook dinner together, then take a shower and…” She reached up and played with his shirt collar. “Have some more fun.”

That smile. The one he wore now. Sweet and sexy and more than a little hungry.

It made her entire body tingle.

“Oh, having fun is definitely on the menu, baby,” he said.

They finished their shopping and returned to his place. While he started unloading the groceries, she grabbed her overnight bag. “Where do you want me to put my things?”

His sweet green gaze met hers head-on. “In our bedroom, baby. Where else?”

The shiver rippled through her, tightening her nipples against the fabric of her bra and sending frissons of need through her. “You know, you move me in like this, you might never get rid of me.”

He smiled. “That’s kinda the point.”

Chapter Sixteen

Milo felt like he’d never smiled before meeting Mads. Like everything before her sailing into his orbit paled in comparison. They cooked dinner together, laughing and playful.

Having fun.

Nothing like cooking with Linda, who always scolded him and ran him out of the kitchen if she was cooking.

They ate on the couch while watching TV, and everything felt right.

She helped him clean up the kitchen before he scooped her into his arms, her laughter a music that hit all the perfect notes in his soul, and carried her into the master bathroom.

That’s when the first bit of shyness seemed to catch her off-guard as she stood there, his hands on her hips and her arms around his neck, while he stared into her eyes. Adorable vulnerability appeared there with her lower lip caught under her teeth.

“What’s wrong, baby?”

“I keep waiting to wake up.”

“Wake up?”

“Yeah. Like this is a fantastic dream and I’m going to wake up.”

He cupped her cheek. “We’re sharing the same dream, then.” He drew her closer, until the length of her body was pressed along his. “So let’s enjoy it.”

“While we can?”

He’d been going in for a kiss. He stopped and stared down into her eyes again. “I’m going to convince you I’m not going anywhere unless you want me gone.” He stepped back and pulled his shirt off, tossing it into the hamper. “I’m not going to try to say I know how nervous you are, but I’m not going to lie and say I’m not worried you’re going to find a newer model after a little while with me.”

* * * *

Newer model?

Hell she’d barely put any miles on him yet.

Sometimes, a vintage model was a good thing. Classic styling and familiar design. Made for a comfortable, reliable ride.

In this case, literally.

Taking a deep breath, she pulled off her shirt and balled it up, hitting a two-pointer in the hamper on top of his shirt.

Nothing but net.

“Oooh, my girl’s got game.” His smile widened. “Been holding out on me.”

She stepped into his arms, loving the feel of his warm flesh against hers. “No, we took care of that in Fen’s pool last night. And again this morning.”

“And right now?”

She nodded. “I hope so.”

He nuzzled his nose against hers. “Want to teach me more?”

“I think you were amazing already. Keep doing that.”

“I don’t want to be a one-trick pony.”

She arched an eyebrow at him. “There’s nothing pony about you, mister. If we’re going there, embrace the stallion label.”

“Ooh.” She loved his smile as he puffed up a little. “Really?”

Bless his heart, she could see the old pain still right there, and she hoped she got to lay eyes on the bitch one day just so she could outshine her and make her feel like yesterday’s tossed out leftovers.

“Really.” She reached down and unfastened his shorts while meeting his gaze. “I call them like I see them.” Which gave her the perfect segue. “So you want another chapter from the Book of Mads, huh?”

He nodded, his hands covering hers and stilling them. The playfulness vanished from his face, replaced by earnest sobriety. “I do.”

She took a deep breath. “From the chapter of ‘labels and assorted trivia one might need in times like these’?”

“Absolutely.” He cupped her hands and brought them up to his lips, kissing them, even as his gaze never wavered from hers.

She chickened out. “In the shower?”

“Anywhere you want, baby.”

That word. The way he said it, it made her want to throw all caution to the wind.

Then again, hadn’t she done that already?

She turned around. “Unhook my bra?”

He did, trailing kisses along the top of her shoulder when he hooked his fingers in the straps and eased them down her arms.

He balled it up and tossed it into the hamper.

They made quick work of the rest of their clothes and he followed her into the shower. She usually tucked, but if she was going to get past something he was obviously okay with, she needed to get comfortable in front of him.

He’d already had his hands and mouth and other body parts all over her body parts, so it wasn’t like he wouldn’t know what to expect.

Except…words fled. Her throat dried up as old fears threatened to wash her out of his safe harbor and into a turbulent sea she wasn’t prepared to navigate no matter what she’d tried to tell herself.

He folded her into his arms and turned her so the water hit him in the back, and her back was pressed against his body.

His…trim…hard body.

Not just his body was hard.

“Talk to me, baby,” he whispered as his hands slipped between her legs. “Teach me how to talk to you.”

He remembered his first lessons quite well, his fingers more sure now as he explored her body and made her gasp. “Just a big clit,” she whispered, not used to having this conversation with anyone. “Like a clitasaurus-rex.”

But he didn’t laugh, his lips trailing down the side of her neck again. “Keep going, baby.” His hands delved farther, fingers gentle and exploring.

“Boy bits,” she whispered. A delicious shudder washed through her as he played with her body.

“It doesn’t hurt when you…” He apparently didn’t know what to call it. They hadn’t gotten that far yet.

“Tuck? No.” Another sweet shiver as his fingers found a delicious set of nerves to rub exactly the way she’d showed him. “It feels weird when I don’t. I wouldn’t recommend you try it.” She tried to lighten the mood. “I’m an expert with many years experience.”

But his tone remained serious. “I don’t ever want to hurt you in bad ways.”

She turned her head, looking up at him to find his gaze focused on her.

He meant it. She could see it right there, painted every bit as clearly across his features as his need and passion were.

Her baby Dom was growing up fast. “My plumbing’s like yours, but my wiring’s…different,” she said. “You have the obvious handle to use and get a really big bang. I need a little special handling, and it takes me a little longer, but unlike you, I can have longer ones. Longer build-up.”

A handsome smile quirked his lips. “Like this?”

She gasped as his hands insistently worked to coax an orgasm out of her…and damned if he wasn’t close to doing it right now. “Yes, Sir!”

“Play with your nipples, baby,” he whispered. “Let Sir make you feel good.”

She couldn’t pull her gaze from his as she did what he asked, rolling and tugging them in her fingers. Against her ass, she felt his rigid cock twitch.

“Goddamn, that’s sexy, baby. You gonna come for me?”

She felt safe and cherished and sexy in his arms. “Yes, Sir.”

And she did, his arms holding her up when her knees nearly gave out as her climax hit. She finally turned in his arms when she recovered enough of her wits to stand. “What about you, Sir?”

“What about me?”

She rubbed against him. “I think you have something needing taken care of.”

“I wouldn’t say nooo.”

His gaze turned even hungrier as she slowly knelt and started teasing the end of his cock with her mouth. “Maybe I want Sir to take control.”

He threaded his fingers through her hair, gently cupping the back of her head. “Hands on my legs, baby. If you need me to ease up, pinch me.”

She kept her gaze on him as she eagerly devoured his cock to the root, drawing a needy groan from him. “Oh, fuck yeah, baby!”

That only made her want to give him the blowjob of all blowjobs, a blowjob to drive any bad memories of Linda out of his mind.

A blowjob to make him think of no one but her when his mind wandered. Their earlier encounter had been fast and frisky and fun, and he’d wanted to focus more on her than on him.

Now, she wanted to learn his terrain.

She explored every inch of his thick shaft, discovering what spots made him moan, what made him whine—what sucking versus licking made him do.

And as she swirled her tongue around the head, tasting pre-cum, he whispered, “Please, baby,” and she couldn’t deny him. She went deep, swallowing as his balls tightened and then ropes of cum erupted from him.

Milo pulled her up into his arms and kissed her, tightly holding her body against his. “Baby, I hope I made you feel as good as you just made me feel.”

She slowly swirled her fingers through the blond hair on his chest. “You made me feel amazing, Sir.”

They ended up tangled together in bed with her draped across his broad chest. They’d used her body wash, and he smelled like vanilla.

Happiness smells like vanilla.

She just hoped this wasn’t false hope filling her.

* * * *

Except, instead of false hope, it seemed Milo was the real deal. The more time she spent with him, the more…real this all felt.

The more permanent.

And over the next days and weeks, she realized she wanted that permanence.

Craved it, and him.

She like the way he talked about future plans with her, things they could do to the house.

Trips they could take together.

Asking her about how to plan for the holidays, even though they were months away.

Asking what he could to do make her life easier and give her more time for her upcoming classes.

Like he was already considering their future a given.

Fortunately, with help from Joel, Fen, and Fen’s parents—who took to Milo immediately, as did Snoobug, Fen’s young and very fickle niece—Milo was able to win her parents over.

Although, to be fair, Milo was introduced to them as “the boyfriend,” not as “the guy their daughter was in effect moving in with even sooner than she planned to.”

Because, yeah, no one thought that was a smart move, to tell them. Plus, Joel and Fen covered for her and didn’t let on she’d already moved in with Milo. As far as her parents knew, she was still living with Fen and Joel, but that the same friends who’d introduced them had introduced Milo and Mads.

They thought it wise to stack the deck with a success story they’d easily understand and believe.

Couldn’t hurt.

But one side benefit of all their time together was that, late that week, Milo heard about an opening at their company, in a different department than he worked, and was able to get Mads in for an interview. Not as much money as she’d been making before, but once she needed the health insurance, it was decent and would cover her medicines and doctors.

She could start the next Monday.

Between the painting and getting the furniture moved—and let’s be honest, most of her other stuff, too, because she didn’t want to not live with him—time sped past, until she was already on her third week working there. Then her parents left on their cruise, and despite the nagging ache in her right side that she suspected was from overdoing it in June’s pole dancing class, life was damned perfect.

That Friday night, Mads headed home before Milo because he was stuck on a conference call.

Except, the pain in her side didn’t get better.

At all.

In fact, by the time he got home from work and found Mads bent over in the bathroom and unable to stand, she’d been close to calling 911 herself.

That’s why she didn’t argue when he scooped her and her purse into his arms and rushed her out to his car to drive her to the ER.

Chapter Seventeen

Milo didn’t want to say anything, in case he was wrong and this was nothing worse than gas, but he remembered when his brother had an emergency appendectomy and his symptoms had been a lot like these. He’d helped Mads into the hospital gown and tried to keep her calm while the nurse hooked her up to monitors, including a glowing light on her index finger.

In the rush to get her here, Milo had forgotten her phone, though, and neither of them could remember Fen’s phone number. Milo hadn’t programmed it into his phone yet.

Milo stayed with her and held her hand, trying to keep her calm as the doctor examined her.

By calm meaning not about to fall into a blind panic, because Mads seemed pretty damn close to that point right now.

“We need to get some pictures,” the doctor said to the nurse. “I’ll send orders to radiology, but since we can safely rule out an ovarian cyst, I’m pretty sure we’re looking at an appendix that’s decided it wants to be rehomed.”

She stared up at Milo, terror and pain clouding her sweet blue eyes. “Please don’t leave me! Please don’t let them take me back there!”

Milo leaned in, his hand caressing her forehead. “Baby, they need to see what’s going on.”

The nurse offered Milo a smile. “Come on. I’ll get you in there. I need her to stay calm and take deep breaths or we’ll have to put her on oxygen.”

Relief flooded through him. “See, baby? It’s okay. Breathe for me, all right?”

Panic still filled her gaze, but Mads nodded and lay back in the bed.

He walked next to the gurney while the nurse pushed it, holding Mads’ hand as they navigated the quiet halls down to radiology.

At least no one so far had given Mads any hassles over being trans, but he didn’t know if that was because they were just nice people or because he was taller and apparently scary-looking when he was terrified his girlfriend might be dying.

They were in radiology and they were starting to move her from the gurney onto the table when she moaned. “I…I don’t feel good—”

He managed to keep from getting puked on, but before they could start to clean that up Mads doubled over in pain, crying.

“Oh, my god, it hurts so bad!”

From that point on, it was a blur of action, of Mads crying and Milo feeling helpless, until they got an IV started and dosed her and then wheeled her back to the OR and they parked him in a waiting room.

Where he felt…

Shit.

Milo hated feeling so fucking helpless, hated not being able to do anything.

He sat there in a daze for the better part of an hour before a nurse came out to tell him it had definitely been her appendix, that it had burst, and they were in the middle of surgery right now.

That it was…serious.

Hated that she was going to be in ICU for a couple of days, because there was a serious risk of infection due to her appendix bursting.

Hated that her parents and sister were out of town and unable to return. Hell, he didn’t even know how to get in touch with them right now.

I’m a fucking dumbass. His phone was almost completely dead, but he called up Eliza’s number, and wasn’t sure who was more surprised, him or her, when he burst into tears while telling her what happened.

“Shh, calm down. Where are you?”

“Proctor-Collins.”

“Okay. We’ll call Fen and Joel and get them heading over there to you. How is she?”

“I don’t know right now. She’s still in surgery.”

They still hadn’t arrived when another nurse came out to get him and took him back to see her. The nurse told him she’d regained consciousness briefly in recovery, but Mads had been in so much obvious pain they’d given her meds and she’d passed out again. Seeing her lying there, looking tiny and frail in the bed, had almost been more than his heart could bear.

He bent in and kissed her forehead, whispering to her, wanting her to wake up, to look at him, to let him see her alive.

Right now, he couldn’t stay with her in the surgical ICU. Once she was stepped out of that section into the regular ICU, they’d let him stay longer. Hopefully by tomorrow afternoon.

Or, this afternoon, rather.

For now, he had to go out and could come back in an hour for a few minutes.

Once again sitting in the waiting room, her things in a bag, he felt…

Helpless.

He looked up when Eliza and Rusty arrived, Skye and Axel literally running in seconds behind them, followed by Joel and Fen. He stood, nearly bursting into tears with relief.

“How is she?” Fen asked.

“Critical, but stable.”

“Why didn’t you call us sooner?” Fen scolded as he hugged him.

“I was…brain-dead. I’m so scared. I didn’t have your numbers in my phone and didn’t think about calling Rusty and Eliza until a little bit ago.”

Joel hugged him. “Well, we’re here now, for both of you.”

“Yeah,” Axel said when he got his hug. “We won’t leave you two alone.”

Rusty and Eliza both enveloped him in a group hug. “We’re here for both of you,” Rusty said. “Whatever we can do.”

He started crying again. “I can’t lose her,” he said, not caring who saw him crying. “I love her.”

“Of course you do, dummy,” Eliza tried to tease. “We aren’t about to go ruining our perfect track record!”

* * * *

Fortunately, the staff were kind and apparently recognized Eliza from her staying with another friend who’d been in the ICU. They let Milo in just after morning shift change, able to sit at Mads’ bedside, where he promptly dozed off holding Mads’ hand.

Milo awakened at the feel of Mads’ hand squeezing his. He opened his eyes and sat up, his back creaking in protest. She still looked out of it but Milo forced a smile.

“Hey, sweetheart. There you are.”

“What happened?” Her voice sounded raspy, and she swallowed, tried licking her lips.

“Your appendix burst and they had to rush you in for emergency surgery.”

She started to sit up, but he reached out and touched her shoulder. “Don’t do that, baby.”

“I want to get up.”

“No, you need to stay there. They had to do full surgery. They couldn’t do it laparoscopically.”

“I want to get out of bed. I’m thirsty.”

“Sweetheart, you can’t.” He reached over with his hand and punched the call button to summon the nurse. “You can’t risk ripping something open. Besides, you’re hooked up with wires and IVs and…everything.”

Panic flared in her gaze, and she started to reach down but he caught her hand and brought it up to his lips, kissing it.

“Stop,” he whispered. “You’re safe. I’m here. I’ve got Fen and Joel, and Rusty and Eliza, out in the waiting room. Axel and Skye went home a little while ago.”

The nurse walked into the cubicle. He wasn’t sure he liked the vibe he received from this nurse. She was a younger woman, and he’d spied the way she’d pursed her lips when going over something on Mads’ chart earlier.

Like maybe she didn’t approve of something she saw on the laptop.

Or maybe it was his imagination looking for problems where there were none. He was exhausted and felt pretty damned emotional right now.

The nurse reached over and shut off the call signal. “How are we doing?”

“She just woke up.”

“Are you having any pain?” the nurse asked her.

Mads nodded, eyeing the woman, suspicion filling her features.

“Can we get her something to drink?” he asked.

“I’ll find out.”

“She’s also overdue for her estradiol,” he said, noting the way Mads’ gaze flicked to him. “She didn’t take her dose last night.”

“I’ll have to talk to the doctor first. They probably will want to order a different method of delivery for now.” She made a note on the computer terminal and offered Milo a tepid smile before leaving again.

I hope that woman isn’t going to be trouble. The staff down in the emergency room had been wonderful but he couldn’t deny the weird vibe he was getting from this particular nurse.

If anyone tried to hassle Maddison, he wouldn’t hesitate to go aggro on their asses.

Maddison was his, and like hell would he allow anyone to mistreat her. He’d almost lost her—in fact it terrified him how closely this whole situation flirted with a horrible, tragic outcome.

At least it definitely drove one point home harder than any other—he wanted to spend the rest of his life with Maddison.

Now all he had to do was make sure he convinced her of that.

Hopefully, she’d want to spend the rest of her life with him, too.

And if not?

Well, he didn’t want to think about that, because he wasn’t sure what to do with the rest of his life if Maddison wasn’t there in the middle of it.

Chapter Eighteen

Everything.

Fucking.

Hurt.

Mads was trying not to panic, but realizing she was stuck in a hospital, it was pretty damned hard not to panic.

The only reason she wasn’t panicking was waking up to holding Milo’s hand.

“I love you, Sir,” she whispered.

He leaned in and offered her an exhausted smile that nearly broke her heart. “I love you, too, baby. You scared the hell out of me. You’re not allowed to do that.”

He was here.

With her.

“I’m sorry, Sir.”

He pressed a tender kiss to her forehead. “Forgiven, baby.” He sat back. “So what am I going to do with you, hmm?”

“Collar me?” she whispered.

His smile faded. Yes, they’d already started having those talks. “Then we need to talk about that once you’re home. I want you clear-minded and not scared out of your fucking mind when we discuss this. I won’t leave you alone here. If I can’t be here with you, I’ll make sure Fen or Eliza or someone is, okay?”

She nodded, but then the nurse returned, and he sat back, squeezing Mads’ hand as the nurse fiddled with the IV.

Before long, she realized she was fading out again, but at least the pain was easing…

* * * *

Milo wouldn’t go home, despite Eliza and Fen trying to get him to and even offering to sit with Maddison.

The only concession he made was sitting in the waiting room and napping in one of the recliners there while Fen sat at Mads’ bedside.

At least they’d caught it fast and had been able to clean the infection out. As long as she didn’t spike a fever, and her blood work looked good over the next few days, then she’d be able to go home.

Mads was heavily medicated for pain all day and slept through her transfer from the ICU and into a regular room. They all stayed with her while Milo ran home to shower and change and grab a couple of things, like her phone and both their chargers.

She was still asleep when he returned. That’s when Milo finally convinced Eliza, Rusty, Fen, and Joel to go home and get some sleep. He could nap in Mads’ room with her.

The day nurse had been pleasant enough, professional, not super-snuggly or anything, but Milo hadn’t minded her. He’d liked her better than the nurse Maddison had in the ICU, that was for certain.

The night nurse, however…

He suspected if someone was going to be getting on his last fucking nerve, it was going to be this bitch.

That happened around ten p.m., when the nurse tried to tell him he had to go home, despite the day nurse telling him that of course he could spend the night there with Mads. The room was even equipped with one of those sleeper recliners.

Maddison had drifted awake while Milo was going round four or four hundred with the nurse, something like that, with her trying to urge him to leave.

“I don’t understand what your problem is,” Milo finally said, completely exasperated by the nurse’s demeanor.

“He can’t—”

“She,” Milo snapped.

The nurse shot him a dark look she quickly schooled. “She can’t get out of bed right now. Maybe you should go home and get some sleep.”

“I can sleep just fine right here. I’m not leaving her, because she’ll panic.”

“We can get something from the doctor for that. He needs to check the incision, anyway.”

“Then I can sit right here while that happens, too.”

Mads looked close to panic again, and he understood why.

Well, he understood the basic reason.

He’d never claim he could comprehend her fear at the visceral level he knew it was tearing at her. It was never something he’d ever had to worry about.

Never something he’d endured, and he hated that she’d gone through it in the first place.

It was one more thing he couldn’t protect her from, but he’d do his damnedest to try.

After the nurse left, he parked himself in his chair on Mads’ left side and held her hand again. He kept his voice low, both forcing her to tip her head closer and pay attention to him.

“I’m right here, baby,” he said.

“I want to go home, Sir.”

“I know you do, but they can’t send you home until they know you’re going to be okay.”

“I don’t want them touching me.”

“I’m right here, sweetheart.” He reached up with his left hand and cupped her cheek. “They won’t do anything they don’t need to do to make sure you’re okay. I’m not letting them run me out.”

The nurse returned with a resident. She pulled back the sheet and blanket without bothering to say anything first.

“Hey,” Milo snapped. “Little courtesy, please. Tell her what you’re going to do first, huh?”

Bitch.

Rolled.

Her.

Eyes.

Actually fucking rolled them.

Then the woman froze, maybe sensing that the rage washing through Milo was about to be given birth right there in the air between them as a literal fucking demon he would gladly unleash on her.

“Sorry,” she muttered. “Doctor needs to check the incision.”

“Thank you,” Milo said. He refocused on Mads, resting his head on the mattress so he could stare into her eyes, which forced her to turn her head toward him and away from what they were doing. “Watch me, baby,” he whispered. “Eyes on me.”

Mads sucked in a sharp breath, wincing as they did something.

“Sorry, dude,” the resident said.

That proved to be the moment when Milo seriously thought he was going to come unfuckingglued and get himself arrested for the first time in his life.

He lifted his head and glared at the doctor. “Apologize,” he said.

The doctor pulled her hospital gown down and dragged the covers back over her. “I said I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to hurt—”

“Not for that. You apologize to her. She is not a ‘dude.’”

The resident’s eyes widened as the situation apparently registered in his brain. “Oh…oh, my gosh, I’m sorry, ma’am. I-I meant ‘dude’ generically, I—”

“We done here?” Milo snapped.

“Look, seriously, I’m really sorry.” At least he sounded genuinely sorry. Or terrified. Milo would accept either one, at this point.

Behind him, the nurse rolled her eyes again.

He snapped his fingers at her. “You got a problem you want to share with the class, honey? Because you roll those goddamned eyes of yours at her or me one more fucking time and—”

“I’m really, really sorry, sir,” the resident said, holding up his hands and stepping in front of the nurse to obscure her from Milo’s view.

Milo stood, releasing Mads’ hands after giving her a gentle squeeze. “Let’s go have a little chat,” he said to the resident and nurse, pointing at the door.

He made sure the nurse and resident walked ahead of him and he closed the room door behind him when he exited. He pointed down the hall at the nurses’ station.

“There. Now.” He followed them. “I want a supervisor up here. Right now,” he demanded when they reached the nurses’ station.

One of the nurses stood. “I’m in charge, sir. What can I do for you?”

“This guy”—he pointed at the resident—“isn’t nearly as high on my shit list as she is.” He pointed at the nurse. “I want another nurse for Mads. Immediately.”

“What’s going on?”

“She keeps misgendering my fiancée and rolling her fucking eyes at me and her when I correct her.”

“What?”

The nurse leaned in and dropped her voice. “He’s got a penis. It’s a tranny—”

Milo slapped the desk, making everyone jump. “She is a woman. And you’re about one word away from a massive fucking lawsuit, lady.”

The supervisor looked like she’d rather be anywhere but there at that moment, but to her credit, she turned on the nurse and pointed at an office behind the desk. “You. There. Now.”

The nurse’s face turned red, and she scurried around the counter and into the office.

The other nurses sitting at the desk had all frozen, staring.

The supervisor glanced around at the nurses gathered there. “Sharon, I need you to take over 406 immediately.” She turned to Milo. “I’m really sorry, sir. I’ll be reporting this to administration and make sure she’s officially reprimanded.”

“She damned well better be.” He dropped his voice to a dangerous growl. “Maddison deserves respect the way any other patient does. She’s terrified, and in a lot of pain. Showing her a little fucking compassion wouldn’t hurt anyone. She’s not trying to make anyone’s job confusing or difficult. She’s scared.”

He dropped his voice even lower. “She was seriously injured in an assault a few years ago, and she was retraumatized by medical personnel and law enforcement who were supposed to care for and protect her. She has PTSD, and this whole experience has been a massive trigger for her. All she wants is to be treated with compassion and respect.”

“Of course, sir. This will not happen again.”

“It better not.” Shaking with rage, he turned and stalked away from the desk, aware that Sharon was on her feet and scurrying after him.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered when she caught up to him before they reached the room. “Frankly, Jen’s a bitch.”

He stopped and turned on her, keeping his voice low. “Not my problem. My concern is that my fiancée, who has PTSD, is being massively triggered by the very staff who are supposed to be caring for her. Add in the other obvious issues with her medical history, and can you see where I’m coming from, here?”

“Yes, sir. I promise you, I won’t have a problem caring for her.”

“Good.” He pasted a smile on his face as they opened the door. He hated that Mads flinched before realizing it was him. “Hey, look what I did, baby. Brand new nurse to take care of you.”

To her credit, Sharon smiled and followed Milo over to the bed. “Hi, Maddison, I’m Sharon. I’m going to be your nurse for the rest of the night. Can I get you anything?”

He’d retaken his chair and when Mads’ hand found his, she squeezed, desperate, like a drowning woman. “I want to go home,” she whispered.

“I know. I’m sorry I can’t make that happen for you right now. I’m going to take a few minutes to get up to speed on your chart and see if you’re due for me to take your vitals. Are you in any pain right now?”

Mads slowly shook her head.

“Tell her the truth, baby,” Milo gently said.

“Yeah,” Mads softly admitted. “It’s about an eight or nine.”

“Okay. Let me go look up your chart and talk to the doctor, and I’ll be right back.” She closed the door behind her.

“What’d you do, Sir?” Mads whispered once they were alone again.

He grimly smiled. “Let’s just say I apparently have a bigger damn Dom streak in me than I thought I did.”

The nurse returned a few minutes later with the vitals trolley, and a syringe of meds that she added to the IV pump, programming it in. Then she took Mads’ vital signs.

With that done, she focused on Mads. “I know they checked your incision,” she said, “but I need to take a look, too, so I see what it looks like now, in case there are any changes. And I really need to check your catheter to make sure there’s no problems. Is that all right?”

Mads looked at Milo, and he nodded.

“Okay,” Mads finally said.

It was through sheer force of will that he kept his voice calm as he addressed the nurse. “Just ask her first and warn her when you’re doing something. Those are the two biggest issues.”

“Of course. I need to move the covers and look under your gown at the incision. Okay?”

Mads nodded and closed her eyes, tears squeezing out from under her eyelids and rolling down her cheeks.

The nurse brought her tissues first, before she grabbed gloves and checked the dressing, not making Mads wince, but Mads tucked her head more tightly against Milo.

Once Sharon finished looking at that, she pulled Mads’ gown back over her abdomen, covering her. “Okay, I need to check the catheter. I’m going to have to touch you to do that, though. I don’t know if it was checked at the start of the shift, but there aren’t any notes about your output levels. I’m really sorry.”

Mads nodded against Milo’s neck and then sniffled.

“I promise I’ll be quick.” Sharon pulled back just enough of the hem of her gown to expose the tubing snaking over Mads’ thigh and off the side of the bed. “Just a quick touch, sweetie, I’m sorry.”

Mads flinched but didn’t say anything.

The nurse quickly pulled Mads’ gown back into place and followed the tubing over her thigh. “Everything looks good. Let me empty this while I’m here and record it.”

She pulled the covers back over Maddison. “If you want, I can check that again at the end of my shift, instead of the other nurse doing it when she comes on. I’ll be here tomorrow night, too, so I’m sure they’ll assign me to you, if you’d like. So we could hold off on checking it again until I come back on.”

Mads nodded.

“I’ll also make sure they assign Amy to you for day shift in the morning. She has a sister who’s in…um, your situation. I think you’ll really like her.”

“Thank you,” Milo said.

Once they were alone again, he rounded the bed and carefully climbed into it next to her, holding her as she cried.

“I’m sorry I lost it, baby,” he said. “I’m sorry I lost my temper.”

She sniffled, but it sounded like a laugh. “It’s okay. Better you than Mom. Or Fen.”

“Why?”

That was definitely a chuckle. “You’d be bailing both of them out by now. Mom and Fen would have literally gone after the other nurse. Dad stepped between Mom and a nurse when Mom swung on her. She clocked him instead.”

He could see that happening. “I’ll call in and take some time off work.”

She tipped her head back to look at him. “Why?”

“Why? Because this is bullshit. I’m going to take care of you.”

“I thought I heard you say Eliza was going to be here Monday morning?”

“She is, but—”

“If I’m not safe with Eliza, I won’t be safe with anyone. From the sound of it, I’m going to need you more at home right after I’m discharged.”

“Let me see how the rest of the night goes first,” he finally said. “And tomorrow. Make sure they’re really fixing this. Then I’ll make the decision. All right?”

“Yes, Sir.”

He’d finally returned to the recliner chair and was dozing in it when someone lightly knocked on the door and the nursing supervisor poked her head in.

Mads was asleep, thanks to the pain meds. He tipped his head for the woman to come in, but he didn’t want to pull his hand away from Mads’ and risk waking her up again. Even in sleep her face was tensed with pain.

“I’d like to apologize again,” she softly said. “I’ve filed a report about this.” She handed him a business card with a woman’s name and number written on the back side. “That’s our patient rep. She’s only here on weekdays during business hours, though. You can call her if you have other questions or concerns about this incident.”

“She still on the floor tonight?”

“No, I’ve sent her home. She’ll be reassigned to a different section tomorrow.”

“Sharon said something about assigning Amy to Mads in the morning?”

“We’ve already set it up. That was the other thing I was coming to tell you. I think you’ll both really like Amy. She’s got personal experience with a similar situation, and she’s been a nurse for nearly twenty years now. Can I get you anything, sir?”

“No, I’m okay. I just need sleep and not having to worry about how she’s being treated.”

“I promise, nothing like this will happen again during her stay. I’ve also told Sharon to make sure Amy knows she needs to accompany the doctors and advise them of Maddison’s needs before they do any exams. And we’ll make sure she understands about Maddison’s PTSD.”

“Thank you.”

Finally, he settled back in the recliner, angled toward Maddison’s bed, where he could see if she woke up.

Only then did it hit him what he’d said.

Fiancée.

But…yeah.

I’m going to marry her.

Not just that, but the quiet certainty settled in his heart.

I’m going to spend the rest of my life with her.

Chapter Nineteen

Fortunately, the day nurse was a marked improvement from the bitch from hell.

Plus, with Mads doing okay, and both Fen and Eliza there at her bedside, Milo went home to take a shower and run a couple of errands.

Including one that, now with it on his mind, he couldn’t think about anything else until it was done.

He made two purchases there, one that returned with him to the hospital, and one that he tucked into his desk at home, safely hidden.

Hopefully to be retrieved soon.

Later that evening, once Sharon was on duty again and everyone else had gone home, he closed the room door and walked over to his bag, where he’d tucked the first item. “We need to talk, baby.”

“Talk?”

He turned back to her. “Talk. I kind of made an executive decision that I didn’t run past you first and probably should have.”

“What do you mean?”

He took her hand. “I’m going to need to have you do something for me, baby.”

Mads scowled. “What?”

“I kind of told the staff you were my fiancée. I guess I should have actually asked you to marry me first.” He slipped the engagement ring onto her left ring finger. “Will you marry me?”

Her eyes widened. “Seriously?”

“Yeah. I nearly pounded a nurse and risked going to jail.” He smiled. “If that’s not love, I don’t know what the hell is.”

She stared at the ring for a long moment, starting to worry him when she didn’t respond. His smile faded. “Mads?”

“You mean it?” she whispered.

“Of course I do.”

“What about your family?”

“What about them?”

Her gaze finally focused on his again. “Are they going to be okay with this?”

“With what?”

“With me.”

“I’m marrying you because I love you. I’m not marrying you for your lady parts. I wouldn’t feel a need to explain your factory-built body to them if you were cis. If you want to tell them, that’s up to you. Doesn’t change how I feel about you. I don’t think it’s going to be a problem with them even if you do tell them. If you want me to tell them, then I will. But, again, I didn’t introduce my ex to them as, ‘Hey, this is Linda, she was born as and assigned female as her gender, and she has a vagina.’”

He hated the doubt and worry clouding her gaze.

“I mean,” he finally continued when she didn’t speak. “I guess I’m marrying you if you say yes, you’ll marry me.”

Tears welled up in her eyes, making them too bright, too blue, her long eyelashes only accentuating how fragile and vulnerable she looked right now.

Maybe this was shitty of him to spring it on her on top of everything else, but the thought of losing her when she’d suddenly become his entire life was nearly too much for him to bear.

“Yes, I’ll marry you.”

Relief and joy flowed through him. He leaned in to kiss her again. “You scared me for a minute there, baby.”

“Sorry, Sir.”

His cock twitched in his jeans, even though maybe that made him a shitty person, too. “Ooohh, yeah. That.” He nuzzled his nose against hers. “You will be calling me Sir when we’re alone, baby. I fucking love that.”

“Dom stuff finally feeling comfortable?”

He brushed a thumb over her lips. “Absolutely, it is.”

She studied him for a long moment. “I’m never getting bottom surgery,” she whispered.

“Honey, you’re not having any surgeries, unless they’re medically necessary, like this one was. I forbid it. I refuse to put you through any unnecessary anguish. And, one of my rules is you don’t go to doctor appointments without me there. Unless we can arrange Fen or Eliza or someone to go with you. Understand?”

“Why?”

“Because that’s my job. To stay with you and make sure no one tries any bullshit with you. I know it sucks, but I won’t have some shithead being a dick to you. It’s my job to take care of you, because I love you.”

* * * *

This was happening…this was happening really fast.

And, for the first time in her life, it felt like it was exactly what should be happening.

“What about collaring?”

“We’re going to talk about that later. We’re not getting married tomorrow, for starters. I think we need to live together a few months first. Ed will kill me if we don’t do paperwork before we get married. If your parents don’t kill me first.”

She smirked. “True story.”

“I asked you to marry me. I’m going to put collaring in your hands. I’m still a baby Dom, as you like to say. I think when you feel comfortable turning yourself over to me as my slave, when you think you’re ready to take that step with me, and you think I’m ready to take that step with you, then you ask me to collar you.”

“Before we’re married?”

“I’m going to say it’ll be at least six months before we actually get married. Maybe longer, if you feel we need it, or maybe if I feel we need it. There’s no expiration date on this engagement. We can be engaged six months or six years. But I don’t want to do anything if you don’t feel ready. I needed you to know how serious I am about how I feel about you, though.”

She hated that it looked like he was close to crying. “That was a damned close call, baby,” he said, his voice sounding hoarse. “You were really lucky. The thought that you might have died on me before I was able to tell you that I love you, and that you’re the most magical, beautiful person to ever walk into my life, would have destroyed me.

“I need to know that, no matter what, I’ve told you how I feel, and you know that, in my heart, I already belong to you. How we hammer out the other details is just a matter of figuring it out. Figuring us out. I’m good with however long we need to take to do that.”

She blinked back tears at his heartfelt words. “Yes, Sir.”

He leaned in, his forehead touching hers. “I swear, baby. I won’t let you down. I’ve got you.”

She nuzzled her face against his, her eyes closed as she inhaled his scent.

Absolutely, with every cell in her being, she believed him.

Eliza arrived bright and early Monday morning, before Milo had to leave for work. And she immediately spotted the ring, grinning from ear-to-ear when she gave Mads a gentle fist-bump as soon as Milo was out the door.

“Work it, girl! Damn. That’s pretty bling.”

“Thank you.” She stared at it. “I hope Fen will be okay with it.”

“You hope Fen will be okay with what?” he asked from the doorway.

Eliza grabbed her hand and held it up, shaking it. “Look look look!”

Fen rushed over. “Damn! He put a ring on it already!” He leaned in and kissed Mads’ cheek. “Shit! That means I owe Joel a naked custom pole dance routine.”

“What?”

“Yeah, he bet me Milo would propose in six weeks or sooner. I said he’d wait at least six months.”

“Thanks. I think.”

He grinned. “I don’t think I’ll have to hurt him. Milo, I mean. He seems to have great references.”

“Damn straight he does,” Eliza said. “I’ll have you know we are trained professionals, trained by the best.” She blew on her fingernails before buffing them on her shirt. “Not about to blow a perfect record now!”

Chapter Twenty

“Do not open that door,” Milo scolded when he spotted Maddison reaching for the door handle.

He’d even forgive her eye roll. It was adorable when she did it.

“Yes, Sir,” she said.

It was late Thursday afternoon. While Milo had wanted her home with him, he also wished they’d kept her an extra day. Her bloodwork all came back fine, showing no post-op infection, but he was now fucking paranoid if she so much as yawned.

He couldn’t lose her, didn’t know what he’d do without her.

She was on some pretty strong antibiotics, and after two days of a clear diet, her transition to a regular diet had gone well, prompting the surgeon to discharge her.

She had a follow-up appointment scheduled for Monday morning, which he would take her to before driving her home, where Eliza would spend the day with her and force her to basically spend it on the couch doing absolutely nothing more taxing than lifting a Kindle while he went on to work.

He completely trusted Eliza to come through for him, too.

Getting out of the car, he hurried up to the front door, unlocked it, and disarmed the alarm before returning to the car to open her door for her.

She started to stand but he stopped her with a sharp, low noise.

Meaning he received another eye roll.

Adorable, and something he wouldn’t dare punish her for yet. Not until she was cleared to fully resume their normal activities.

“I can walk, Sir,” she said.

“Did I ask you? Let me take care of you.”

He leaned in and scooped her out of her seat, enjoying the way she draped her arms around his neck as he carried her inside. After kicking the door shut behind him, he gently set her down on the sofa, planting a kiss on her lips before releasing her.

Then he leveled a finger at her. “Stay.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m not a puppy.”

He grinned. “Then you should have no trouble obeying me, baby.” He took several trips to ferry all her stuff inside and put it away, bringing her purse and cell phone to her so she could text Fen that they were home.

“I’m not an invalid,” she called out to him on one of his passes through the living room.

“Hey!” He stopped and turned. “Who’s in charge?”

A soft grumble, and a thunderstorm of a scowl. “You, Sir.”

“All right then. Humor me. Please? I damn near lost you.”

The dark scowl disappeared. “Sorry, Sir.”

He returned to lean in and kiss her. “Hey, no apologies, okay? You had no control over this. It just happened. Stupid bad luck, that’s all. But you ignore symptoms like this in the future, believe me, you won’t like the punishment you get once you’re back up to full strength. Understand? That is an order, in case it wasn’t clear.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Thank you.” One more kiss, because he couldn’t get enough of kissing her, before taking that load of things to their bedroom.

Their bedroom.

He still couldn’t get over that.

Theirs.

Tonight, he’d actually be able to get some fucking sleep, and he desperately needed it. Not to mention his back would appreciate being able to sleep in his own goddamned bed. Not that he complained about any of that, because he didn’t want Maddison beating herself up over it.

It wasn’t her fault.

It was also his job to take care of her, and it was one he refused to relinquish any more than he had to, considering the circumstances. Sure, Fen had volunteered to stay with her a couple of nights, but that was his job.

During the day, he trusted Eliza or Fen or a few others to watch over her and keep her company, keep her calm.

Protect her.

Nighttime was his, and like hell would he allow her to sleep alone or without him.

If she couldn’t be at home, in their bed, then neither would he.

His place was at her side.

It was the only place he wanted to be, and he wouldn’t sleep any better at home without her for a reason like this than he would in an uncomfortable hospital recliner chair.

He returned to the living room. “I’m going to start dinner. Are you hungry yet?”

She shrugged. “Not really, but go ahead. I’ll eat what I can.”

“Macaroni and cheese and IKEA meatballs?”

She smiled. “Comfort food.”

“Of course.” He leaned in to nuzzle his nose against hers. “Might have asked Fen about that, and he and Joel volunteered to make an IKEA run for me last night.”

* * * *

Maddison struggled against the urge to burst into happy tears over that revelation.

Prince Charming had not a single goddamned thing on her Milo.

“Thank you, Sir.”

“Hey, I’m going to take care of my baby. I meant it.” He stroked her cheek. “This is the whole ‘in sickness and in health’ they talk about in wedding vows.” He offered her a smile. “I’m practicing right now. Kinda got screwed in the bad way the first time around. I want to make sure I’m doing right by you.”

Okay, now she was blinking back tears. “I love you so much,” she whispered.

“I love you, too.” Another gentle, tender kiss before he headed to the kitchen to start dinner.

She was still in a lot of pain and wouldn’t be cleared to return to work until late next week, maybe. Depending on how her doctor appointment went on Monday. If she strained herself and pulled stitches, that would delay her return to work.

Definitely didn’t want that.

She was not used to taking things easy and taking time off.

She dug her cell phone out of her purse and texted Fen.

I’m home.

Fen called her seconds later.

“Hey, sweetie. How you feeling?”

She glanced into the kitchen and spotted Milo’s gaze on her even as he was prepping dinner. “Watched.”

Fen laughed. “You realize he’s going to practically sit on you to keep you from hurting yourself, right?”

“I know. I don’t even mind.”

That was the truth—she didn’t.

She absolutely loved him.

“When are you going to tell your parents?”

“Not until they get back.” Once she’d been conscious enough to process everything, she’d begged Milo and Fen to leave contacting her parents to her. She wasn’t dead, she was out of danger, and there wasn’t a damn thing they could do except worry themselves and beat themselves up for not being there.

That was guilt she didn’t want on her head.

Fen tsked. “They’re going to be upset.”

“I know. They’re going to be upset regardless.” She stared at the engagement ring on her left hand. “I’m hoping telling them we’re engaged will help shove that to the side. They’re just going to have to get used to the fact that the primary job of worrying about and taking care of me is Milo’s job now.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, it is. I have a feeling their concern and caring will make them look like free-love hippies compared to how drill-sergeant Milo will take care of you to make sure you’re following doctors’ orders.”

“Probably. And I don’t mind in the least.”

Once Milo had their simple dinner ready, she found she did have a little bit of an appetite. He fixed her a plate and they ate on the couch with the TV on.

He’d told her about Linda, his ex, how she’d boxed him in. How he couldn’t really be himself and just relax in his own home.

How everything had to be just so, per her expectations.

Mads loved sprawling across the couch with him for dinner, or just chilling in front of the TV.

There was also something to be said about having weekends off.

“Whatcha thinking about so hard?” he asked.

“I’m so glad to be home.”

He blinked a few times, glancing away as he did. “Me, too.”

She gently nudged him with her foot. “Hey, look at me.”

He did. Sure enough, she spotted the way his eyes looked a little too bright, like he was close to tears.

“Takes a lot more than a rebellious appendix to take me out. I know I look fragile, but I’m pretty tough, Sir.”

He set his plate on the coffee table and turned to face her, pulling her feet into his lap and gently rubbing them. “You scared the shit out of me, baby,” he said.

This was another thing between them she’d come to treasure, the way he took great pleasure in touching her, rubbing her feet, massaging her neck—cuddling. When they showered together in the morning, he loved scrubbing her back for her, caressing her arms, wrapping his arms around her. Helping her put moisturizer on after their shower.

Everything about him tender and loving.

She adored this every bit as much as the fun, rough-and-tumble sexy times. He’d been starved for affection during his marriage to Linda, and yes, the two of them had a vigorous sex life now that was mutually satisfying.

Even more satisfying? The vanilla, non-sexy cuddling and touching.

Laying snuggled in his lap while watching TV.

Holding hands in the grocery store, or walking with her arm hooked through his, especially when he confessed Linda hated doing that.

He wanted to proudly show everyone Maddison was his.

Because he loved her.

He also loved to take care of her. In the hospital every night, he brushed her hair for her, helped bathe her.

Held her hand and kept her attention on him when they’d removed her catheter, and then held her and soothed her while she’d cried after.

She wasn’t alone any longer.

This took some getting used to, and it terrified her in some ways that she’d grown to rely on him so much in such a short amount of time.

Except…this felt right.

It felt perfect.

It felt exactly like she’d imagined it would when she found Mr. Right.

“I’ll do my best never to scare you like that again, Sir.”

He finally gave her a smile. “Damn well better not, or I’ll have to think of a way to punish you that you won’t like.” He playfully squeezed her feet. “Might take the polish off all but one of your toes and force you to go around without a pedicure.”

She gasped. “You wouldn’t dare!”

His evil grin warmed her all over, even made her nipples tighten, although she wasn’t exactly in the mood.

Still, nice to know that even with the bad kind of pain, she still wanted him.

That was true love.

“I just might, baby.” He lifted her right foot and kissed the top of it. “Don’t push me to have to punish you like that.” He released her foot and reached for his plate.

She pressed her lips together, struggling not to giggle. If that was the worst “punishment” he could come up with…

Wait, fuck that, not having a pedicure would drive her bugnuts, and he damn well knew it.

Wow, the man really is a sadist!

She smiled as she took another bite of her macaroni.

Her handsome baby-Dom was really starting to come into his own, and boy, she sure loved the hell out of him for it.

It wasn’t long after he finished cleaning up the kitchen that they headed for bed. He did let her walk that time.

After helping her in the shower, they curled up together in bed, and she’d never been so happy to go to bed.

Their bed.

She snuggled against him, wearing one of his T-shirts to sleep in and feeling happy to deeply inhale his scent fresh from the shower. He was naked, and she love the feel of the hair on his legs rubbing against her freshly shaved flesh.

Tonight, they both smelled like peaches.

She kissed his chest. “It feels so good to be home. Thank you for taking care of me.”

He drew in a ragged breath before he buried his face in her hair. “Please don’t ever scare me like that again, baby.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“I mean it.”

She looked up into his eyes. “Milo, I’m not going anywhere. For some crazy reason, you love me. I know I love you. This feels perfect, and I’m terrified you’re going to wake up one day wondering why the hell you’re doing this.”

“Never. I’m terrified you’re going to wake up one day wondering why you’re with an old geezer.”

She poked his tummy. “Stop that. I told you, that doesn’t matter to me.”

“Then you stop it first.” His smile faded. “You’re stuck with me, I’m stuck with you. We just have one massive hurdle ahead of us.”

“What?”

He sighed. “Your parents hating me for not trying to contact them on their cruise.”

“You let me handle them, Sir.”

“Kinda my wheelhouse, though.”

“In this case, I’ll make an exception. Dealing with them is kinda my jam.” She settled in again, her head resting against his chest and his heart gently beating in her ear. “Besides, it doesn’t matter if they like you or not. They need to get used to the fact that I have a life and they can’t fix the world for me.”

His fingers trailed along her arm, and it was only her exhaustion and the pain from her incision that kept her body from responding to him the way it always did like this.

“Baby, you are the best thing to ever walk into my life.”

“Even with the crazy bestie baggage?”

He nuzzled the top of her head. “Especially with the crazy bestie baggage.”

Chapter Twenty-One

Maddison sat at her desk and stared at her laptop screen. She was working on one hell of a headache and still had two hours before she could leave for home.

And she was supposed to be studying tonight for a test for tomorrow night’s class.

Dammit.

At least Milo had volunteered to handle dinner tonight so she wouldn’t need to worry about it.

God, I love that man.

It was four months since her close call. They hadn’t set a wedding date yet, but that was fine.

They were happy. She was happy.

She could always look at the ring on her finger and know that the man who’d put it there was serious about spending the rest of his life with her.

Including her overprotective family and crazy bestie, which was only further proof that he was there for life.

They hadn’t had an official collaring yet, either. But Milo had come an amazing distance since starting their journey together. At first he’d been terrified to do more than cuddle with her in bed, afraid of hurting her because of her surgery. After a lot of talking with her and her doctor, he’d finally slowly started reintroducing sexy time and play back into their lives.

Now…

Well, he’d gotten pretty good at not needing to resort to Plan B to ring her bell and make her climax. Well, for the first time.

The sadist had discovered forced orgasm play and was deviously enjoying trying to make her set a personal best record.

Right now, the record stood at four in one hour.

On her desk, her personal cell started buzzing. She didn’t recognize the number but it was a Miami area code. Instead of letting it go to voice mail, she opted to answer it.

“Maddison Nance.”

“Oh, thank god! I need to talk to you!” The man sounded both familiar and literally desperate.

“Who is this?”

“Arsenio Gonzales. Listen, what would it take for me to hire you back?”

She stood and started moving, wanting to get out into the lobby to have this conversation without a dozen or more coworkers overhearing it. “Mr. Gonzales?”

“Yes, I lost my old cell phone and ended up with a new one and lost all my contacts, and can you talk? Please?”

“What’s going on?”

“The deal fell through. Apparently, the investment company had a heavy Ukraine presence, and four of their corporate officers, along with three others, were just indicted for wire fraud, money laundering, and a bunch of other stuff. My lawyer included a clause in the purchase contract that the deal would become void and full ownership of the resort would return to me if there was any criminal wrongdoings discovered before the final sale. Please, you have to help me!”

This was too much to process coming at her too fast. “Slow down, Mr. Gonzales. The deal fell through?”

“Yes! Maddison, I need you!”

“What about Jordan Holmes?”

“He was one of the ones indicted! The US Marshals marched him out of the office in handcuffs an hour ago!”

“What?”

“Yes! I received panicked calls from the front desk staff asking what they were supposed to do.”

When she raised her left hand to brush her hair back from her face, she caught sight of the engagement ring sitting there on her finger and checked herself.

“Right now, I’m at another job, and—”

“I will double what you were making before, and double your bonus, if you can start tomorrow.”

Whoa. She couldn’t have heard him correctly. “Double?”

“Yes.”

“Seriously?”

“I’m desperate, and you are the best. You know this place inside and out, and the staff loves you.”

That was gratifying to hear on multiple levels, but it still didn’t solve her main issue.

She didn’t want to leave Milo. And she was going to school now.

“How many changes did they put into place?”

“Nothing I know you can’t fix in a very short amount of time.”

“I-I have a test in class tomorrow night that I can’t miss, and—”

“I will work around your schedule, whatever it takes.”

“I also have a fiancé now.”

“Felicidades. I’ll hire him, too. Name your price.”

They had a home here. Friends.

Family.

A life.

No way would Milo up and leave his job, especially after so many years vested in it. They had excellent benefits.

Working for the company wasn’t her dream job, but it wasn’t… awful.

But…that was a lot of fucking money to walk away from.

“Can I call you back at this number?”

“Okay, seriously, if you can’t start tomorrow, how about Saturday, still at double your pay and bonus? Surely that’s enough time. Can I e-mail you an offer letter at your old e-mail address?”

“Mr. Gonzales, I really need to think about this and talk to my fiancé.”

“Fine, fine, but is that e-mail still good?” He rattled it off to her.

“Yes, that’s still good.”

“Excellent. I’ll e-mail you in five minutes.”

He hung up.

In shock, she stared at her phone for a long moment.

This…this wasn’t real, was it?

This is just another mind fuck, right?

He hadn’t been willing to fight to keep her on before, but now that he was desperate, he was screaming for help from her?

Really?

Except…

Her phone vibrated in her hand with an incoming e-mail alert. Sure enough, Mr. Gonzales had e-mailed her.

Job offer for Maddison Nance: Double former pay and double bonus rate to start on Monday or sooner. Employer will pay 100% medical insurance premiums. Free accommodations in luxury suite room. Will also hire spouse at Maddison’s previous salary and full benefits.

Holy shit.

Mr. Gonzales might be many things, but he’d never lied to her—or any employee—when it came to matters regarding pay. That was one of the reasons she hadn’t walked away from the job before, because he might have been frustrating on a number of fronts, as well as a spineless weasel, but he wasn’t an outright liar. His word was good.

He’d worked too hard throughout his life, his mother and father arriving in Florida from Cuba, barely escaping there. He’d always treated employees with respect, whether they were groundskeepers, housekeeping, cooks, desk clerks, or even…

Her.

His obvious discomfort with her trans status notwithstanding, it was telling that he was calling her now to save his ass.

On the other hand, if he hadn’t been greedy and in a hurry to dump the resort after she’d turned it profitable, he wouldn’t be so desperate now. He’d sold it without bothering to tell her that’s what he was doing. Generous severance package or not, she’d been damned lucky to land on her feet and not her ass.

Plus, there was no guarantee he wouldn’t fuck her over again. Times two, if he was offering Milo a job.

Still…

That was a lot of fucking money to walk away from without at least discussing it with Milo.

She pulled up her ongoing text thread with Milo.

Are you available right now, Sir?

She was on her way back to her desk when he replied.

On a conference call for a while, baby. What’s up?

Her heart still fluttered when she read that endearment.

Any endearment he used for her, but especially that one.

No, there was no way in fucking hell she was ever walking away from Milo.

I just received an interesting phone call and need to discuss it with you.

She didn’t even get the phone set on her desk before he replied.

Do I need to hurt someone?

That made her smile.

No, but it’s important. And kind of urgent.

She didn’t bother setting the phone down. He replied seconds later.

Come on up. I’ll put my call on mute.

She grabbed her phone and headed upstairs, feeling a little nervous as she walked past the receptionist, who was on the phone. She smiled and nodded to Maddison but made no move to stop her. Obviously, she knew who Maddison was.

Everyone knew who she was.

Since she wasn’t on Milo’s team, and she didn’t report to him, no one at the company had any problem with them being together. There were several other couples in the company.

He was proud to introduce her as his fiancée, and always had been.

She paused in his office doorway and waited until he looked up and waved her in. She closed the door behind her and quietly took a seat in one of the chairs in front of his desk because he was currently talking to someone in speaker mode.

She watched him as he did, focusing on his light green eyes, how they were gorgeous, fern green, not the fake emerald of Jordan Holmes’ eyes.

Wonder if they let him keep his contacts in lock-up?

That was a mean thing to think, and she knew it, but she was still trying to process that her instincts had been proven right again.

Listening to her gut had saved her a world of problems.

Milo sat back and, in a few minutes, hit the mute button and gave her a smile. “What’s up, baby?”

After taking a deep breath, she detailed her conversation with Mr. Gonzales and showed him the e-mail on her phone.

She wasn’t sure she liked the dark expression that narrowed his eyes before he schooled it back into her usual calm, cool Milo.

“List the pros and cons for me, baby,” he said.

“Well, pros would be money and benefits, to start with. And he wants to hire you, too.”

“I don’t know anything about running a resort.”

“I trust you. I can teach you everything you need to know.”

He held up a hand while he listened to the call, then hit the unmute button, replied, and muted it again. “I have a job.”

“It’s a lot of money, Milo.”

“What about school?”

“I’ll withdraw, I guess, and transfer to UM.”

“You sound like you’ve decided.”

“No, I haven’t. That’s why we’re talking now.”

“It sounds like there was a lot going on, though. Investigations like that usually take a year or more, and they arrested him this soon? No telling what was going on, but that’s probably why they were so hot to put their own guy in place as soon as possible. Probably laundering money from day one. And why he was so anxious to keep you on, because you were clueless about what they were doing. He probably was going to frame you to look like you were doing it.”

“Oh. I hadn’t even thought about that.”

“Which is another point in the Cons column.” She must have looked confused, because he continued. “If they were laundering money through the resort already, there could be legal ramifications there. I don’t want you caught up in a police investigation for something that’s not even your fault.”

“Ah.” She settled back in her chair. “True. I hadn’t thought about it like that.”

He glanced at his phone, listening to the conference call for a moment before speaking again. “I’m not quitting my job,” he quietly said. “I love you, but I make decent money. We already ran the budget numbers. If they were a resort here in Sarasota, I’d say okay, sure, why not, after talking to an attorney to make sure it was safe for you to get involved. Even if they were up in St. Pete. But not Miami. That’s not a daily commute kind of drive, baby.”

“So you’re telling me no?”

“I’m telling you my vote is no. You are an adult and have to make your own decisions about things like this. I don’t want you hating me later.”

She stared into his green eyes. “What if I want you to make the decision?” she softly asked.

Milo studied her for an achingly long moment. “Are you asking me to collar you, baby? Because I won’t make that kind of decision for you unless you’re wearing my collar.”

“What if I am?”

He leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers together. “We’re not playing that game,” he quietly said, Sir’s voice making her nipples tighten and her breath catch. “I think I’ve proven myself. Either you trust me, or you don’t. If you want me to collar you, then ask. I’m ready to spend the rest of my life with you. If that doesn’t tell you everything you need to know about me, then I don’t know what does. I can easily spend the rest of my life with you the way we are now. But I will not make that kind of decision for you unless you’ve asked me to collar you as my slave. So if you want me to make it for you, then you know what has to happen.”

She couldn’t bear the weight of his gaze. Her focus dropped to her hands, which lay clasped in her lap. “That’s a lot of money,” she said.

“Yes, it is. But you wanted to earn your MBA. Once you have that, you could likely be earning double what you are now here. Or maybe even find a different job in Sarasota. If you take that job, I don’t see how you can continue going to school up here. It’d run you into the ground driving back and forth all the time. It would also mean we don’t get to see each other for a while, because I will not let you give up school for me.”

She met his gaze again, surprised by that admission.

Someone was addressing him directly on the call, and he held a finger to his lips in a gentle warning as he hit the unmute button and responded. She sat there for several minutes, studying him, listening to him, trying to remain still so she didn’t distract him.

It allowed her to watch him as he focused on the call and not her.

She loved him.

With every ounce of her soul, she loved him.

He loved her, too.

To him, she was a woman—full stop.

She wasn’t a fetish to him, wasn’t a novelty, wasn’t a way for him to see if he was questioning his own orientation.

He was a straight guy who loved her, a straight woman. To him, her factory-built parts were no different than if she had a mole or a scar. She was an entire package to him, not individual parts.

He finally muted the call again, listening, then his gaze swiveled and met hers.

Electricity surged through her.

Isn’t that my answer?

“We’ll talk about this more tonight,” he said. “You need time to think about this, and I can’t devote the attention to it right now that you deserve.”

“What if I—”

“Tonight,” he gently said, tipping his head toward the door. “Love you.” He blew her a kiss.

But he was still in Sir mode, and she was absolutely not going to start an argument about this at work.

She blew him a kiss back. “Love you, too.” She stood and left his office, leaving the door open after glancing back for guidance as to how he wanted it.

Deep inside, the part of her that had felt lonely forever curled up and said nope, no way was she going to take the job. Meanwhile, her logic-brain wanted to argue that she’d likely never see that much money being thrown at her for a long time. In a job she already knew how to do and was qualified to do.

The two sides of her were equally stubborn and dug in, refusing to budge.

Meaning she’d need to shelve the discussion until that night, when Milo got home.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Milo was on another conference call when Mads was ready to leave. When she stood in his office doorway, his stomach fought the urge to clench, fear racing through him that she might choose the job over him.

He gave her a smile and kissed his fingers, waggling them at her, which she returned.

Sitting back, he closed his eyes and tried not to worry. Tried to focus on his job.

He wouldn’t force her to choose him. She was an adult, and she needed to make this decision.

Could he blame her for not refusing immediately?

No, because that was a lot of money, and she was sixteen years younger than him. If someone had tossed that much money at him back then, he couldn’t swear he’d say no. If their positions were reversed…

Stop.

He couldn’t use that argument and damn well knew it. He’d never know what life was like for her before she walked into his. He couldn’t begin to claim to understand all she’d been through.

All he knew was he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.

If that wasn’t good enough for her…well, it was all he had to offer her.

His love, his faith, his trust.

But she had to want to be with him. He wouldn’t chase her. He did that with one wife and ended up divorced.

He also wasn’t sure, if he was truly honest with himself, if he could handle it if she did choose Miami over him. He trusted her, but he didn’t trust what the long distance would do to him over time.

When he thought about the future and them together, he could easily see ten, twenty, maybe even forty years into the future, if they were lucky. So what if they never had kids? That wasn’t a big deal to him, anyway. If she decided she wanted children, then they could look into adoption or surrogacy.

Whatever made her happy.

That’s all he wanted—for her to be happy.

Even if it meant she’d leave him and rip his heart out in the process.

* * * *

Milo didn’t text Maddison when he left work. He needed some time alone to process now that he wasn’t being pulled in ten different directions at once. He stopped by the grocery store and slowly walked every aisle as he checked items off the list on his phone.

He didn’t mind doing this for her—for them. Shouldering part of the burden so she had more time to study. He was proud of her for going back to school.

He was proud to call her his fiancée and, hopefully, to soon call her his wife.

His brother and sister-in-law loved her, and were happy to not say anything to Milo’s parents about Mads being trans, agreeing that it might be better to let that be. Wasn’t any of their business, anyway.

Mads’ parents seemed to like him, and he’d obviously won over Fen and Joel, too.

Absolutely he’d love to collar her, but that had to be her choice. She needed to ask him to do it.

He thought about the gold necklace tucked into the back of his desk at home. The one he wanted to be her day collar.

He’d never imagined he’d be in the position of wanting to collar someone. Never even realized it was a thing before his eyes had been opened, much less that he’d have someone to collar.

Since being taken under Eliza and Rusty’s wing—and the collective wings of their other friends in the Suncoast Society—Milo had never felt…happier.

Satisfied with life.

At peace with who he was and what he wanted.

It was okay to want to be in charge in the relationship, as long as your partner wanted that, too, and it was okay to want a partner who felt that way.

Maybe he wasn’t as hard-core kinky about certain things as some of their friends, but tying Mads up and spanking her gorgeous ass made him hard as a rock.

Making love to her was the most emotionally satisfying experience he’d ever had with a partner in his entire life.

The thought of her giving herself to him as his slave filled him with hope he never knew possibly existed.

Part of him hated that he’d wasted so many years with Linda, but if things hadn’t happened the way they did, he wouldn’t have met Mads.

And no way would he ever give her up. Not willingly.

Not unless she told him she didn’t want to be with him anymore.

When he arrived home, Mads was curled up on the couch with one of her textbooks, and was wearing one of his T-shirts. She started to get up to help him, but he stopped her. “I’ve got it, baby. You study.” He leaned in for a kiss as he passed her.

He only hoped it wasn’t the first of a dwindling number of times he’d get to kiss her like this, or come home to her waiting for him.

* * * *

The way her heart skipped when Milo walked through the front door and kissed her hello settled it. The final nail in the coffin.

That was after Fen chewed her a new one when she called to ask his opinion.

What did it say that she didn’t even take it personally when Fen asked what the fuck was wrong with her, and why hadn’t she asked Milo to collar her yet? And, oh, FYI, when was her fricking wedding, because he had a damn bridal shower to plan for her.

She set her textbook aside and followed him to the kitchen when he came in with the last load of groceries.

“You should be studying, baby,” he gently chided.

She hooked her fingers through his belt loops and held him still. “I want you to collar me, Sir,” she said. “Yes, it’s a lot of money, but it’s not worth losing you. Nothing’s worth losing you.”

He caught her hands and brought them to his lips, kissing them, then pressing them against his chest as he leaned back against the counter. “Are you sure?”

“I’ve spent my whole life wishing I could find someone to love me, who’d see the real me and love me the way I am. Searching for someone who’d want to sweep me off my feet. Someone who’d love me without sticking an invisible asterisk at the end of my name when introducing me.”

“Have you told Mr. Gonzales yet?”

“Yes, Sir. I think I made him cry.”

Milo smiled. “That’s my good girl.”

A sweet, gentle frisson swept through her. “I can’t imagine life without you. I don’t want to.”

“I can’t imagine life without you, either.” He pulled her into his arms. “I love you, baby.”

“I love you, too, Sir.”

His hands slid down her back, cupping her bare ass where she was naked under his T-shirt. “Shouldn’t someone be studying for their test tomorrow?”

“I wanted to tell you that first. And I’ll sign a prenup or whatever.”

“We both need prenups. You’ve got that money from your severance package, and your 401(k).”

“I don’t think either of us will need it, though. The prenups.” She couldn’t look away from his green gaze. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

His gaze searched her face. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you, too.” His lips slanted over hers and a soft gasp escaped her. Her lips parted for him without hesitation. Teeth bumping, tasting his warm breath, the feel of Milo’s cock stiffening against her.

Him. All of him.

He raised one hand to the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her hair and holding her in place while his mouth completely owned hers, and her.

Totally.

She pressed her body against his, everything else falling away around her.

Lost. That’s what she was, lost in this, in them.

In him.

He finally lifted his mouth from hers, but didn’t release her. “You should be studying,” he hoarsely said. “You don’t study tonight, you’ll be cramming during lunch tomorrow.”

She smiled up at him as she slipped a hand between them so she could palm his cock through his slacks. “I know something else I’d like to cram.”

A needy moan rumbled through him. “Don’t tempt me, baby. I’ll hogtie you and spend the night making you beg.”

She smiled up at him and slowly dropped to her knees, nuzzling her face against his bulge through his slacks. “You say that like it’s a bad thing, Sir.”

He caught her hands and pulled her back to her feet. “Well, first of all, we’ve got ice cream melting that I need to get put away. And you need to study while I cook dinner.” He grabbed her ass and ground against her. “Then you can take care of Sir. How’s that sound?”

She smiled. “Like heaven.”

* * * *

He made her favorite, the chicken and noodle casserole with mushrooms and peas and almonds. Sure, it wasn’t fancy, but it was delicious.

And it meant a lot to her that he’d remembered.

He wouldn’t let her help him clean up the kitchen after, either. He sent her back out to get a few more minutes of studying in. Once the dishwasher was running and he’d turned off the lights, he joined her in the living room and held his hand out to her.

“You realize I should be making you study tonight, right?”

She smiled as he pulled her to her feet. “Yes, Sir.”

“What should a naughty girl get for not studying?”

“I’d like to say the answer is a spanking, but you might see that as rewarding bad behavior.”

“Hmm. True.”

She batted her eyelashes at him. “So what does a slave have to do to get collared, Sir?”

He didn’t speak at first, but when he did, his voice sounded deep, hoarse, filled with emotion. “All you have to do is ask, baby. You already have my heart and soul.”

“I want to wear your collar, Sir.”

He led her out to the couch and made her sit. “Wait here.” He disappeared down the hall, to the bedroom they used as a home office. He returned a moment later with a jeweler’s box.

Then he dropped down on one knee in front of her. “You were a little out of it in the hospital, so I couldn’t propose the way I wish I could have. But I want to spend the rest of my life with you, protecting you, taking care of you. Loving you. I need you in my life, because you have brought happiness and joy into my life that I never knew was even possible. You’ve already agreed to marry my stupid ass, but would you also please wear my collar and be my slave?”

She had to blink back tears, but she nodded. “Yes, Sir!”

The gold necklace had a beautiful heart-shaped pendant on it with a single diamond. He fastened it around her neck. “One diamond, because you’re the only one for me, the only one in my heart, the only woman I love. The only one.”

“Okay, this more than makes up for the proposal, and I was happy with that already.”

He scooped her into his arms. “Good. Now let me take you to bed and see how many I can get out of you tonight, baby.”

“You are an overachiever, Sir.”

“Is that a complaint?”

“More of a compliment.”

He dropped her onto the bed and started stripping. His cock was already hard, and she eagerly yanked the T-shirt off.

His gaze devoured her before he crawled onto the bed and stalked up it, his body caging hers. “What do you fucking do to me, baby?”

“Anything you want, Sir.”

He arched an eyebrow at her. “Anything?”

She nodded and felt herself biting down on her lower lip.

Her heart raced in a good way as he jumped off the bed and headed to the closet, where he kept his toybag. And rope bag.

Because now he had enough of each that he needed two bags. He took great pride in learning rope, and she had a lot of fun being his rope bunny.

Tonight he was more interested in putting his marks on her ass, which was fine with her because she belonged to him.

Totally.

And with the stress of studying, in addition to work, a nice hard, fast scene would be the perfect thing to give her a brief mental respite.

How could she have even considered leaving him for an uncertain job?

Answer—she couldn’t, wouldn’t, didn’t…and wanted to smack herself for even giving it more than five minutes’ worth of thought.

He returned to bed with a short coil of rope and a paddle in hand. His gaze narrowed, passion darkening his green gaze. “Roll over, baby.”

As always, a thrill raced through her while she complied.

Absolutely, she trusted him. He’d never given her a reason not to trust him, and had given her every reason to prove to her that her trust was safe in his hands.

He made quick work of tying her wrists behind her with a simple column tie. Fast, easy, and simple. While she had cuffs and a collar, he preferred to save those for their formal scenes, or when they went to the club or a private party.

For actual restraint? He was a hands-on Dom who preferred to use rope to keep her in place.

Not that she was complaining, because she loved being wrapped in his ropes.

He caressed her ass, the backs of her thighs. Another thing she loved about him, that he was apparently addicted to touching her, caressing her. Even when cuddled in front of the TV, he loved holding her hand, or stroking her thigh.

His grip changed, now raking his nails along her flesh and making her squirm in good ways. After a few minutes of that, he leaned in and bit the back of her shoulder, which nearly made her come right there as she whined for him.

She felt his hard cock brush against her leg. He loved making her whine when they played.

“There’s my girl,” he softly said after kissing where he’d bit. One of his favorite things was to tie her up, use her toy on her, and bite her while he made her come. At first, she’d thought he liked to bite.

It wasn’t until she realized what reaction his biting had started to pull from her that she caught on to his wonderfully evil plan—made her associate biting with orgasms.

Now, even if he nipped her neck in passing at work, it damn near turned her into a puddle.

It was only after she’d finally teased him about it that he admitted he’d been picking the brains of Niall, Tony, and Landry, three damn Doms who were damn good at exactly those kinds of mind tricks.

And she loved Milo for taking the time to research things like that for her.

He picked up the paddle and traced lines up and down her flesh with the edge of it. “Does someone want a nice pink ass?”

She wiggled her ass at him. “Yes, Sir.”

For the record, the answer to that question was nearly always yes.

He started out the way he always did, teasing her with light strokes that were barely more than taps. The longer he did that, though, the more likely he’d end up smacking her hard—

Which he did.

Just to go back to light taps that grew steadily harder, randomly interspaced with hard smacks that made her yelp.

Another noise he loved making come from her mouth.

Up and down the backs of her thighs, over her ass, until she was squirming against the bed and ready to beg him to do anything to be allowed to come.

He sat at the head of the bed and spread his thighs, giving her access to his cock. While she engulfed the head with her mouth, he reached down and started delivering a series of moderately hard smacks to her ass.

“That’s it, baby,” he hoarsely said. He reached down and untied her wrists before sinking a hand in her hair. “Don’t make me come yet. Just get me nice and hard. I want your ass nice and pink and hot before I fuck you, baby.”

She moaned around his cock. She could spend hours on her knees in front of him with his cock down her throat, if they had the time and her legs didn’t fall asleep.

There was something incredibly sexy about the way he responded to her, like she was the center of his universe. Like he was drawn to her, addicted to her.

Needing her like oxygen.

Above all that, it felt like he wanted her. In everything, he put her first in his life.

Like even in a crowded room, if they weren’t next to each other, his gaze was always drawn to her, seeking her out.

Staring at her with the adoration she’d always longed for.

It was even sweeter and sexier than she’d ever imagined possible.

Finally, he ended the spanking with several last hard, stinging smacks with the paddle that made her moan, muffled around his cock.

“Holy hell, that’s fucking hot, baby,” he hoarsely said. “Before I lose it, I want to make you come.”

He flipped her over onto her back and stretched out next to her. Propped on one elbow, he stared down at her with his intense green gaze, his lips just over hers. He reached down with his other hand. “I want to make you explode, baby.”

Her breath came in quick gasps as the kiss trailed down her chin, her throat, his lips latching onto her right nipple. He flicked it with his tongue, driving her need through the stratosphere. She thrust a hand into his hair and held on tightly, which pulled a sexy growl from him that rumbled against her flesh. Combined with the hand between her thighs, pleasure washed through her, driving every other thought out of her head except trying to climb, trying to catch up with the pleasure rushing her toward the edge.

“Come for me, baby,” he whispered, his breath warm on her skin.

He wanted to make her explode, and it didn’t take long to accomplish that mission.

The sexy smile on his face when he crawled back up her body twisted her heart tightly around him. She reached up and cupped his cheek. “Wow.”

He turned his face so he could flick his tongue along her fingers. “Wow, is right.” He smiled. “You have no idea how sexy you are when you come. I love how you let go to me.”

“I love you, Sir.”

His gaze softened. He dipped his head to trace kisses along her lips. “Love you, too, baby. Always.”

She wanted to ride him and nudged him to roll over onto his back, once she could move again. She grabbed a condom and lube and quickly had his hard cock wrapped and slicked and the thick head pressing against her ass.

With every thick inch that deliciously stretched and filled her, she watched the passion grow and burn in his eyes. She loved the sweet, sexy groans he made as she rode him, the feel of his hands on her hips.

“Not going to get tired of me, baby?”

“Never, Sir.” She leaned forward and kissed him. “You take excellent care of me.”

It didn’t take long for her to ride one out of him. After cleaning up, they cuddled in bed, with her nestled snugly in his arms.

He kissed the top of her head. “I’ve got you, baby.”

She pulled his arms tighter around her. “I’ve got you, too, Sir.”

THE END

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Table of Contents

SEARCHING FOR A HEART

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two