She followed him in and shut the door. “No, it doesn’t bother me.”

“Well, then, now that we’ve settled that, where do you want the groceries?”

She pointed toward the kitchen. “On the bar, please. I’ll put them away later.”

He took his time walking across the living room, glancing around at the interior of her apartment. From the impression he’d formed of her, he’d expected pink, maybe yellow, lighter pastels. Girly colors and decor. Frilly shit draped from one end to the other. He couldn’t have been more mistaken.

The apartment was decorated in rich, dark earth tones. There was a decidedly masculine feel to the furnishings. Burgundies, dark blue, greens. The couch and love seat were dark brown leather, and they actually looked comfortable, like they were sat in and not used solely for decoration. She was an interesting contradiction. One that intrigued him greatly.

He set the groceries down and glanced over at the telephone. Looked like a standard land line. Easy enough to tap, only he’d have to get into her apartment when she wasn’t around and make damn sure she never found out about it.

He’d gleaned enough information from Micah and Nathan to know that she was fairly routine in her comings and goings. Most weeknights she stayed home. Friday and Saturday nights she spent out with the guy she was currently dating, and Sundays she usually went over to Pop’s. She occasionally spent time over at her brother’s or at Nathan’s or Micah’s place, but for the most part, she appeared to be a loner.

When he turned back around to face her, he found her studying him, her eyes hooded and wary. There was a subtle curiosity in her gaze, despite her reserve. Like she couldn’t quite figure him out. Join the club, babe. He hadn’t exactly been able to figure her out either in the short time they’d been acquainted.

Her arms were crossed, folded protectively over her midsection. They inadvertently plumped her breasts, pushing them upward until they strained against her shirt. He could just see the outline of her nipples, pressing gently outward.

“Would you like something to drink?” she asked politely, though her body language told a different story. She wasn’t comfortable with him here. In her space.

He smiled. “Thanks, but I have to go. I’m meeting Micah for drinks.”

She pulled a face. “I know what that means.”

He arched his brow. “Oh?”

She laughed huskily. “If it’s Micah, it’ll involve lots of gorgeous women, usually brainless gorgeous women, okay, make that half-dressed, brainless, gorgeous women.”

“Sounds like my kind of guy,” he drawled.

She flushed again. “I didn’t take you for the brainless type.”

The corner of his mouth went up. So she’d been analyzing him. Very interesting. And she didn’t take him for the brainless type. Good observation, though it could have been a lucky guess. Frankly, he’d rather suffer a case of blue balls before getting his dick wet in a chick with more dead space than a black hole.

“I like the half-dressed part,” he said with a grin.

Faith rolled her eyes. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

Ah, dismissed. He retreated. No sense spazzing her out. He’d meet Micah, throw back a few, then he’d head over to the office to tap her phone. He’d wait until she was at work to get into her apartment.

As he walked toward the door, her soft voice brushed over his ears.

“Thanks for the help.”

He turned his head. “Anytime.”

Faith watched him go with an odd hitch in her breath. She hadn’t expected to see him again so soon after their first encounter, but then she imagined they’d be bumping into each other a lot, given they worked together and lived in the same apartment complex.

She knew from Connor that Gray was a Dallas cop on leave after his partner had been killed in the line of duty. According to Nathan, Gray wasn’t much of a talker. He and Connor should get along famously then, because Connor was as tight-lipped as they came.

Micah and Nathan on the other hand…they more than made up for Connor’s seriousness with their antics. Fun loving. Not a serious bone in their body.

Faith grinned. Just where Gray would fit into the eclectic mix was anyone’s guess.

She turned to put away all the groceries, and when she was done, she poured herself a tall glass of tea before heading to her computer.

Setting her drink to the side, she slid into the chair and moved the mouse to bring up the screen. She opened her browser and typed in the address for Google.

Now, what to search. She sat there a long moment, staring at the empty search field. What was she looking for? Did it have a name, this nebulous craving twisting inside her?

Maybe she should be Googling what to do when you lost your ever-loving mind. Finally she opted to type in a variety of words. Maybe by narrowing her choices a bit, she wouldn’t be inundated with superfluous information, and if she were really lucky, she’d actually get one or two sites that weren’t porn.

Dominance. Control. Hmmm. What else? Oh wait, back up. Male Dominance. Control. Submission? No, that just sounded wrong. Okay, so she’d just go with Male Dominance and Control for now.

Oh, geez. Research statistics. Was this actually a research topic? Maybe she could find a hunky professor willing to bend her over and…ohhh the possibilities. She started scrolling faster, trying to outrun the erotic images swimming in her head.

Spanking. Tied hand and foot. A man having complete power over her. Bending her, making her submit.

Taking care of her.

And there was the biggest attractant of all.

She sighed as she clicked through countless useless pages. Impatient, she typed in another series of search words.

Dominance. Control. Bondage.

At least these looked more promising. She scanned the topics and clicked on a few of the offerings. Her brow furrowed as she began reading about female submission.

Honestly, she’d never considered herself a submissive person. Yeah, she wanted a strong man. Someone who didn’t have to ask. Who was confidant enough to act. But did that make her submissive?

She wrinkled her nose. Well, it wouldn’t hurt to read up on it. At least then she’d have a better idea of how to find this elusive creature: the dominant male.

God, she made it sound like an endangered species. But in today’s world, she supposed they were. A dying breed. Emasculated by a politically correct society.

Great. Now that she’d figured out what she wanted in a man, she was going to discover there was no such animal.

She clicked until her finger was numb. Read well into the night, her eyes glued to both the fascinating and the downright bizarre. Honestly, she had no idea there were so many people out there who shared her desires, and certainly not so many women. But strangely, it didn’t make her feel any less isolated.

She heaved a sigh as her tired eyes perused yet another listing. Just as she was ready to give it up for the night, an ad on one of the pages caught her eyes.

She leaned closer. Houston. The address was Houston. For an exclusive, private, members-only club. “Specializing in themes of dominance, bondage and a variety of fetishes guaranteed to satisfy even the most discerning palate.”

One of her eyebrows went higher. Thought highly of themselves, apparently.

Intrigued, she clicked on the ad and was transferred to a surprisingly sophisticated website. Not your average trashy porn site high on shock value.

It was discreet, a website that could host a variety of different businesses. Subdued colors. Easy on the eyes. No pop-ups or flashing little boxes screaming that you just won an iPod.

Her pulse fluttered as she read on. Membership was exclusive and only open to a limited number each year. Security was a high priority, and the “club” wasn’t a flashy, neon-sign-bearing business in the heart of Houston’s downtown. Instead, it was a stately home in the northern outskirts of the city. Big wrought-iron gates. High security fences. No sign advertising what went on behind closed doors. Basically a meeting place for like-minded individuals.