“Considering the price, he’d better.”

Abandoning a rack of corsets, Rona quirked an eyebrow and said in a dry voice, “I think Xavier’s budget might extend to the occasional lingerie purchase.” Over her arm was a black lace teddy with garters and fishnet stockings. Tiny satin ribbons held the front closed. “How about this for the dungeon party at Serenity?”

“That’s adorable,” Lindsey said. “Only, tying all those bows while dressing would drive me nuts.”

“Payback is watching Simon untie them. One by one. He loves unwrapping things.” Rona smirked like a cat who’d found the best cream.

Lindsey rolled her eyes. “Thank the Lord I don’t work for him anymore, or this would be such an inappropriate conversation.”

With a giggling snort, Abby put Xavier’s treat into her basket. “What about you, Lindsey? Aren’t you getting anything?”

“Not today.”

When Rona opened her mouth, Lindsey held up a hand. “Don’t insult me by offering to buy something.”

“Not to worry.” Rona pointed to the rear of the store. “Everything there is 75 percent off. Will your finances cover that?”

“Seriously?” Hope rising, Lindsey led them to the rack. Most of the clothes were too big or too small. But… “Oh wow.” She lifted out a virginal white satin negligee. The length went to midthigh. She held it up. The neckline dipped all the way to the waist. The lacing fastening the back together would end at a woman’s ass. “I can afford this.”

It would drive Zander crazy. Or would have. Her face fell. “But—”

“What is it, sweetie?” Rona squeezed her shoulder. “Money worries?”

“Uh-uh.”

“I’d guess that means guy problems,” Abby said.

Lindsey rubbed her fingers over the smooth fabric, envisioning Zander’s big hands there. “More like sadist problems—as in, Zander likes handing out pain.”

Rona frowned. “Is he going too far? He respects your safeword, doesn’t he?”

“It’s not that. It’s that he’s a real sadist and…”

“And you’re not a masochist,” Abby said softly. “I’ve seen those intense scenes he does at the club.”

“That’s it. He wants—needs—more than I can tolerate. I can see his internal battle.”

“Mmmhmm. He usually plays with masochists who like a lot of pain.” Rona’s gaze was troubled.

“I know,” Lindsey whispered. “I can’t give him that. I tried, and I couldn’t.”

“No. And you shouldn’t try. Taking a little extra pain for your Dom’s pleasure is different from trying to satisfy a sadist,” Rona said.

“Did you talk to him about it?” Abby asked.

“Kind of. He says he’s fine, like it’s not something I should worry about.” How dumb was that? “If he doesn’t get to… Do a sadist’s needs go away?” Lindsey asked. Surely she could figure a way to fix this. She had to.

Abby bit her lip. “I don’t think so. Not even if the sadist tries to ignore them.”

“Oh.” The acknowledgment was like a cholla plant, the thorns painfully ripping into her heart.

She hung the garment back on the rack—she wouldn’t need something pretty after all.

***

Near midnight, Lindsey was working the reception desk at Dark Haven. Her shift was almost over, and the number of incoming members had decreased to a trickle. With a sigh, she slumped in the chair. Her heart hurt and somehow was making all the rest of her hurt too. Ever since she’d talked with Abby and Rona, the world had seemed to darken, as if someone had drawn the curtains in a house.

The door squeaked open and thudded shut, and she looked up to see the masochist named HurtMe. He sauntered up to the desk and handed her his membership card. “Lindsey.”

“Hey.” She nodded at his PVC chaps and matching chest harness that showed off his lean muscles. “I like the look.”

“You should get some cowgirl gear. You have the accent to make it work.” He leaned a hip against the counter. “So…have you seen deVries today?”

She felt her face heat up. “Um…”

“Fuck, is he still screwing with you?” He sighed and patted her hand. “I’m sorry, Lindsey. I’d hoped he was over his snit.”

“Snit?” Seriously? She lifted her eyebrows. Did the word “snit” and the man named the Enforcer even exist in the same zip code?

“Like how he was using you to make me jealous.”

“What?” She swiped his card through the reader and slapped it on the counter. “Why would he do that?”

“I thought you knew. We were together—before you came along. The trouble was he didn’t want me playing with other guys.” He rubbed his hand over his lean, shaved chest. “I don’t think it’s right he’d use you to get me upset, you know?”

Zander had used her? Lindsey flattened her hands on her leather skirt. “I don’t get you. We are together.”

“Oh please.” HurtMe gave her a pitying look. “He’s punished a female off and on, but do you see him actually have a real scene with females? Seriously? No.”

“Whatever.” She forced her back to stay straight. “It’s none of your business what he does with me anyway, now is it?”

“Well, I guess not. Fine.” His mouth went flat. “I liked you, you know, and I thought you’d want to hear this before you made yourself into more of an idiot over him. Before everyone in Dark Haven finds out how you were played.” He snatched his card off the desk and stalked through the club entrance.

Used. Played. She stared at the wall, seeing scenes unfolding. Zander with Dixon. With HurtMe. With johnboy. All men. Sure, Zander would flog or paddle a woman, but usually because Xavier had asked him to.

His intense sessions were always with guys, and rumors said Zander was bisexual. If he was serious about HurtMe, maybe Zander had used her to make the guy jealous. From the snipe in HurtMe’s voice, the maneuver was successful.

Feet in the chair, she curled her arms around her ankles, and laid her face on her knees. Used. The thought was like a fingernail digging into the unhealed sores inside her.

All the same, HurtMe’s assertions didn’t matter. Not really.

Breaking up with Zander was simply the right thing to do. They were getting too involved, and if Parnell or Ricks found her, there was a chance Zander might get hurt.

So…she was a danger to him, and she didn’t satisfy his needs. Couldn’t get much more straightforward than that, right? She stared down at her hands, watching her knuckles blur as grief welled up and filled her eyes with tears.

I can do this. I have to do this.

Nonetheless, when Zander walked in a few minutes later, she still wasn’t prepared.

“Ready to go, Lindsey?” he asked.

“Um… Hey.” She attempted to smile at him.

Eyes narrowed, he leaned over the counter. His fingers—so familiar a touch—curved to cup her chin. “You’ve been crying. Why?”

The authoritative demand of a Dom sent a shiver up her spine. She swallowed. Do it now. Here. If she left with him and tried to argue—face it, he could make her change her mind in a heartbeat. “Because I’m sad.”

The words kept sticking in her throat. Get it out now. “Because I’m not going to see you again.”

His fingers tightened on her face. “What the fuck are you talking about?”


DESPITE FEELING SCRAPED raw all day, deVries had looked forward to seeing his little Texan. Her sense of humor, her caring, her warmth—being around her was like stepping into springtime. But what was this shit? He let go of her. As short-tempered as he was today, he needed to be careful. Patient.

Her face was pale, eyes haunted and wet with tears. She really was upset.

Gentling his voice, he rested his hands palm-down on the desk. “Okay, babe. Tell me what’s going on.”

“There are reasons why we’re…breaking up.” Actual grief shadowed her face. “Several, actually. Only there’s one difficulty we can’t get past. It’s impossible.”

“Go on.” Impossible rarely was.

“You’re a s-sadist,” she whispered.

“You knew that when we met. I’d never go beyond what you wanted. Not if you’re honest with me.” Unlike the way she’d been last night. One more thing they’d talk about.

“Yesterday, you stopped long before you were ready to. B-before you were satisfied.” Her raised chin defied him to deny her statement. Her quivering lower lip tugged at his heart.

Hell…this he hadn’t been prepared for. Perceptive, wasn’t she? And…hurting. She must feel as if she’d failed him. He softened his voice. “Satisfaction isn’t everything.”

“It is to me—when it comes to you. I’m not comfortable if you’re suffering. If you need something I can’t provide.” She reached out to touch him. Drew back.

Fucking submissive who wanted to give him…everything. Dammit, this wasn’t her choice to make. “We’re good. I’m good.”

“You’re not. I can see it.”

He growled. Wasn’t as if he couldn’t function without handing out heavy pain. S/M was a craving, not an addiction. Wasn’t like going hungry… More like giving up pizza or steak. Sucked to cut back, but other things were more important. “I fucking care for you.” The words sounded ugly. Harsh. Not how he’d figured on telling her.

The tears in her eyes overflowed. “And I care for you.”

He saw her lips firm. His gut registered the loss even before she whispered, “I won’t let you live handicapped because of me. I can’t. We’re done, Zander. Please… If you care, honor that.”

What the fuck? He straightened, staring at her. Just like that? It was fun. We’re done?

If she’d really cared, she’d stick. She wouldn’t walk away for such a fucked-up reason. Anger flared, burning apart his shaky control. “Might have known. A relationship takes work. Aren’t many women willing to put out the effort.”