“I’m taking you down now,” he told her.

She was quiet as he untied her, pulled the ropes off her body, watched the small shivers running through her as he let them slide across her skin. They fell on the floor, and he helped her to stretch first one leg, then the other, before untying the ropes holding her wrists. He stood at the top of the table and massaged her hands while she lay quietly, her breathing steady. He looked at her lithe body, her muscles loose, her eyes closed, her gorgeous hair all around her. So damn beautiful. She was still the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. No one had ever come close. No one ever would.

His.

His heart knocked against his ribs.

Have to get her into my arms.

He moved around the table and picked her up, and her arms went around his neck. He carried her to the love seat and sat with her in his lap, pulled the soft, gray blanket he always kept in his toy bag around her. She laid her head against his shoulder. She felt so damn good in his arms. Too good.

He didn’t want to feel like this. It was dangerous. He’d been young and shallow when he’d walked away from her before. Now he was old enough to know what he’d be losing when he let her go.

And he would have to let her go again. No matter how much he felt she should belong to him. Because . . .

Because of what? Because of the stupid things he’d done when he was younger? Even though she’d come to him, sought him out, sought this out?

“Mick? Can I . . . can we talk now?”

“What? Yeah, baby. We’re out of scene. We’ll do whatever you need to do. This is what aftercare is for.”

“I need you to talk to me.”

“Do you need to hear that I’m pleased with you? Because I am.” He stroked her hair. “You took it all well.”

“I’m glad. But I just need to . . . talk. Like we used to.”

“Sure. What do you want to talk about?”

“How about you tell me what the tattoo on your forearm means?”

“Non Timebo Mala—it’s Latin for ‘I will fear no evil.’”

“Ah. So . . . what does that mean to you?”

“I’d rather we shelve that discussion for another day. It’s complicated.”

“Okay. Then tell me about your work.”

He lifted her chin to look into her eyes. They were glassy as hell, and he knew she was still subspaced pretty heavily.

“I’m sure Marie Dawn has told you plenty. Is this really what you want to hear about right now?”

“Yes. And she has told me some. But I want you to tell me.”

He knew sometimes it helped a bottom to come down by idly chatting. Why did this feel like something more? But he would do it, anyway.

“I’m sure you already know I have my own business. I do private security for fairly large venue events—concerts, boxing, that kind of thing. The company has grown a lot in the last few years. I have a staff of maybe thirty, including three in the office, although mostly I work from home when I’m in town. I’m trying to talk my friend Finn in Atlanta into coming to work with me here, to handle Internet and firewall security for my clients so I don’t have to contract that out. And he could do some of the on-site work, too, so I don’t have to travel so much. Currently, I travel a lot. I go to meet promoters, the venue managers, to check out a space if there are special circumstances I don’t want to leave up to my security heads. Not that I don’t trust them. But I might have a few control issues.”

“No kidding.” She laughed a little, turning her face into his chest. He loved seeing her like this—relaxed with him. It felt easy. Familiar. “You have the perfect job for a Dom,” she said.

He smiled. “Yeah. Maybe. What about you? I heard you were studying all over Europe. That must have been incredible.”

“It was. It was also hard. The pastry chefs I studied with were like drill sergeants. It was almost impossible to do anything right in their eyes. But when you did . . . well, you knew you’d really done it perfectly, and that makes it all worth it.”

“Sounds like you’re in the perfect profession for a submissive.”

“Maybe. But I really want to do my own thing now. I’m ready.”

“What do you want to do?”

She was quiet for several long moments while she played with a button on his shirt.

“Mick.”

“Yeah, baby?”

“All I want right now is to be here like this. With you. Is that okay?”

“Sure. We can stay here as long as you need to.”

“No. That’s not what I meant. I meant can we . . .” She stopped and he felt her breath hitch.

“Can we what?” he asked.

He thought he knew the answer. “Allie, if you’re suggesting what I think you are . . .” he started. “I don’t know. I just don’t fucking know. Do we even dare try again? Everything went so wrong before, and it was my own damn fault. This—the kink—I can handle. But even this is starting to spiral out of control. This conversation wouldn’t even be taking place if we weren’t playing together.”

“No, of course not.”

She looked crushed. He hated himself a little. But he owed it to her to be honest with her.

Damn it.

He never should have kissed her. One kiss, and it could be the beginning of his undoing.

CHAPTER Seven

SHE STRAIGHTENED UP until she could look him in the eye. He could see she was still flying a bit. Probably emotionally raw. He would have to be very careful about where this conversation was going. He wished he’d been more careful already.

She twisted her fingers in the loose fabric of his shirtsleeve. “Mick, tell me what happened. Tell me why we haven’t been together all this time.”

“Allie . . .”

“It’s okay. I need to hear it, and maybe this is the only time I’m going to be brave enough to ask.”

“Do we need to rehash ancient history?”

“Yes,” she answered simply.

He knew she was right. But damn it, he did not want to do this.

He tightened his arms around her. “If this makes you bottom out, I’m going to feel like shit.”

“And if that happens, I know you’ll take good care of me. Just tell me,” she insisted.

He pushed her long, silky hair from her face, stroked her jaw with his thumb, checked her eyes. It was clear she was still pretty full of endorphins. But it was also clear she knew exactly what she was asking.

“Okay. But you know a big part of why we haven’t been together is because I haven’t wanted to have this conversation.”

“I know,” she said softly, her tone laced with hurt.

“And you’re asking me now because you know damn well I can’t say no to you when you’re sitting naked in my lap, and you know how badly I want you.”

She smiled a little. “Well, I’m sure it doesn’t hurt.”

“Oh, it hurts. Princess, you sure know how to get your way.”

“Not always, apparently. And you’re stalling.”

“Yeah.” He paused to gather his thoughts. How the hell did he say something to her he’d purposely kept from her for nearly eleven years? Something he’d never fully admitted, not even to Jamie? Where did he begin?

“All right. You know how in high school I always told you how sweet you were? You know that was truly how I felt. You always had this sweetness about you. You were so . . . fresh is the only word I can find. And I’ve always had these demons. This darkness. These urges.”

“Do you still see your urges for kink as dark? As demons?”

“As dark, sure. Maybe not as demons anymore. I’ve worked some of those out of my system.” He stopped, shrugged. “Some of them are still there, though, if you want to know the truth. But being a Dominant has helped me to control them. That’s how I got into rope. That part of me needed to be kept in check, and the rope . . . it’s a symbol to me, maybe. The binding, the restraining, restrains my own darkness. I know it doesn’t make much sense.”