He nodded, his expression solemn, only a hint of laughter in his eyes. “I know.”

She started to move and realized that her arms remained strapped down. “Why don't you release me?”

The dimple in his cheek grew as if he was smothering a laugh, and his eyes glinted. “Remember how I said I wouldn't hurt you?”

She nodded. A tremor moved through her body as she thought about all the whips and canes being used in this place.

“Well, I won't. But removing the breast clamps…might.” And he undid the one on the left.

As blood surged back into the pinched nipple, nerves fired. Painfully. Her arms strained against the straps as she tried to touch the pain. And couldn't.

He smiled into her eyes before licking the throbbing nipple. Her back arched high, her arms held immobile, the sensation indescribable. As his tongue circled the swollen peak, the pain mingled with pleasure until she couldn't tell them apart.

“Brace yourself,” he murmured. The second came off, and oh frak, it felt as if her nipple had ballooned into a huge, aching nerve. When he licked over the peak, a high whine escaped her.

A minute later, he released the rest of the straps and helped her off the table. Her knees buckled.

He caught her, picking her up easily. And carried her away from the table.

She stared up at him.

He'd had her tied up and available but hadn't taken her. He hadn't gotten off.

Chapter Eight

I got off.

Mac picked up a floppy-eared elephant and threw it across the yard. With a happy bark, Butler flew in pursuit, snatching it up before it had a chance to bounce, and pranced back to her, the elephant honking whenever his teeth pressed on the rubber nose.

She still couldn't get past the fact that she'd been horny and wet on Saturday night. God knew she'd tried before—okay, maybe not much—but she'd forced herself to accept dates in college. She'd gone out with men, had kissed men, and had even let them touch her until she couldn't stand having their hands on her any longer. No interest, no arousal, nothing.

But with Alex. She blew out an exasperated breath and pressed a hand over her quivering stomach. How had he done that to her? And he had accomplished it, not her. Surely not because he'd spanked her? Her automatic denial faded when she remembered how he'd held her down, how his hard hand had slapped her bottom, and how…strange…she'd felt.

Okay, maybe the spanking had something to do with how she reacted to him.

But the way he treated her had something to do with it also. He'd shown perfect control over himself—and her.

Bouncing with his excitement, Butler dropped the prize at her feet.

“What a good dog.” She chose a duck from the toy box and let fly. Butler looked at the elephant on the ground—his favorite, she knew—and at the duck soaring across the yard. The duck won.

Mac leaned against the patio post, feeling like she'd aged about fifty years. Too much had happened over the past few days. Today—she'd spent today interviewing. Yesterday, Sunday, she'd escaped the house early and spent the day and evening sightseeing anywhere and everywhere she could think of. Anything to avoid talking with Alex.

Saturday? Well. She'd made an enemy, been attacked, been kissed. And had her first orgasm in well over twelve years. Her first one since she was a teenager and got herself there. She wrapped her arms around herself. Even the memory made her feel strange, as if she had turned into a stranger to herself.

Whores don't get off.

I'm not a whore.

But would that self-image ever go away? She'd only walked the streets of Des Moines for a year, and although feeling like an eternity, that time was just a small portion of her life. Then again, after the people in Jim's tiny town of Oak Hollow had discovered her past, they'd looked at her with revulsion. So, in a way, that one year had lasted many. Was it true that a person became what others thought of them?

Thud. Dancing a little, Butler acted like he'd brought her the stars and the moon. What a cutie. She hugged the stocky body and received a cursory lick on her neck before he stepped back, head lifted as if to say, I'm busy here. Stay on task.

She laughed and treated him to his elephant again. Later, when he'd worn out her throwing arm, she might be able to get him to snuggle against her.

Much as she'd snuggled against Alex Saturday night after he'd helped her off the table. He'd studied her face for a second, then picked her up and carried her to a quiet corner and just held her. He'd talked to her, but she didn't remember a word he'd said, just the sound of his deep voice.

Later that night, she'd sat up in her bed and stared at the flowery wall illumined by the nightlight she'd taken from the bathroom. And remembered again. Alex hadn't gotten off.

That still seemed the most unreal part of the event.

Butler barked sharply, and Mac jumped. The Lab gave her an exasperated look and pointed his nose at the elephant lying on her shoes.

“Sorry, baby.” She took the elephant from Butler and put it into the toy box. “I'm done. Can I bribe you with a dog cookie?” she asked, bending to stroke his head.

At the club, Alex had concentrated on giving her pleasure. That just wasn't normal. What kind of a man was he? She straightened, shook her head, and ran right into Alex, bouncing off a chest as solid as a concrete wall.

He chuckled as he grabbed her upper arms to steady her. “Sorry, pet. I didn't realize you hadn't heard me.”

She looked up into his blue eyes. The ocean sounds from Saturday night seemed to fill her ears, and this time she felt caught in a riptide, pulled helplessly…somewhere. “Um. Right. We…we were just playing.”

He smiled, took her face between his hands, and kissed her gently. His lips still held that tantalizing, velvety firmness.

When he stepped back, she knew her heart had sped up.


Alex stroked his thumb over her soft lips. Pretty little sub, all flushed and confused. If she were anyone else, were a normal submissive living in his household, he'd strip her down and take her right now. Maybe lash her hands to the unobtrusive rings he'd bolted into the pillars, lift her legs, and…

He smiled down into her big brown eyes and squeezed her shoulders instead, enjoying the tremor that ran through her at his touch. He'd pushed her hard at the club, taking advantage of how the attack had lowered her defenses and, even better, her unexpected bout of jealousy. She'd responded beyond his expectations, but he could see she was shaken to the core. The little sub had pain buried in her, deep hurts and scars. His job as a Dom was to expose and help her deal with them, but she—

“Why didn't you stay with Cynthia?” she asked, breaking into his thoughts. “She's beautiful.”

“A good question, but first let's find something to eat.” He took her hand and pulled her into the kitchen. “Margaret should have restocked the refrigerator today.” And she had. The refrigerator held a pan of lasagna. Alex set the oven and tucked the dish in, looking forward to the meal. Margaret made a fine lasagna.

Showing a pleasing stubborn streak, MacKensie insisted they make a fruit salad to tide them over until the lasagna could bake. She shoved an apple and knife over to his half of the island and then started cutting up strawberries. Her delicate hands handled the knife with terrifying competence, reminding him that a veterinarian was also a surgeon.

Mac was skillful, stubborn, assertive, and so insecure that she'd stayed away from the house all of yesterday, coming in late enough that she could merely nod at him without meeting his gaze. He'd given her the space and time to think things out, and obviously she felt more on an even keel today.

“Cynthia?” she reminded him, scooping her pile into the salad bowl.

“Cynthia is beautiful,” he agreed. “Clever, rich, and charming when she wants to be. She's also self-centered and”—he waggled the apple—“rotten on the inside.” Her indifference to anyone's pain and problems disgusted him.

“But you were together?”

“'Together' isn't the correct term.” He held a piece of apple to MacKensie's mouth and grinned when she gave the fruit a suspicious glance before accepting it. Did she realize how much a Dom enjoyed hand-feeding his sub?

He continued. “She knows that I don't get involved with anyone. As for dating her, I topped her once at the club and served as her Dom at a few parties. She never spent the night here; I've never entered her apartment.”

“Oh.” Mac accepted another bite. “Considering how much she wants you, she surely put her best foot forward. But you didn't date her long, so how did you know she's a bad apple?”

Alex smiled. Even a Dom could be blinded to a person's motivations, at least at first, and in trying to avoid women just after his money, he'd ended up with Cynthia. In escaping from Cynthia, he got this little cat with all sorts of problems, but who considered taking his money to be an affront to her pride. Definitely a leap up.

He watched her cut up another strawberry, the blade flashing. Tiny hands, fragile wrists, yet he could see the muscles in her bare arms. Her breasts were well concealed under a white button-down shirt, her legs hidden under a tailored skirt. Interview clothes. So very tidy. Time to muss her up a little and remind her she could be aroused.

After she tossed the last fruit slices into the bowl, he grasped her around the waist, enjoying the tiny gasp, and set her on a clean place on the island. Pushing her skirt up, he edged between her legs.