He pulled her against him and threaded his fingers through the hair at her nape, holding her in place while he brought his lips down roughly on hers and kissed her senseless for several long moments before breaking the kiss and stepping away.

- At the brisk knocks against the front door of his suite, Brent smiled and glanced up from where he'd been making himself some late-night hot decaf tea. He needed to calm his mind and body if he ever hoped to get any sleep, so coffee or any type of caffeine definitely wasn't on the menu.

He'd been expecting this visit ever since he'd given Sandra the tour. He just wasn't sure which of the Doms had come with Dex, or if the big man had come alone. "Come on in," he called loud enough for whoever was at the door to hear.

When only Dex entered a minute later, Brent nodded in greeting as he finished pouring cream into his tea. "I figured I'd see you soon. Would you like some tea?"

Dex grimaced, as Brent knew he would.

"You don't have any coffee? You know I can't stand that stuff you love to drink."

Brent gestured to the small coffeemaker that sat on the counter a few feet away. "Be my guest. You know where everything is. That way we can both have our drink of choice while you grill me."

Brent left Dex to make his coffee and sat in his recliner in the lavish living area.

When Dex returned with a steaming cup in his hand, he cleared his throat as he sat on the love seat directly across from Brent. "So who is she?" He pinned Brent with an intense gaze. "And don't give me any bulls.h.i.t. I heard about the scene in the elevator, and when the two of you came down to the dungeon floor it was plain to see both the sparks and the history that flowed between you. So let's hear it."

Brent took a drink of tea and then blew out a long breath. "Sandra and I went to the same high school." He fell silent in the vain hope that Dex would accept that as a full explanation, but he knew better.

"And?" Dex pressed, a hint of impatience creeping into his tone.

Brent tensed at the tone and then forced himself to relax. Dex was a good friend. He was concerned, and he had an interest in Club Desire and its inner workings. "I told you how horrible high school and even early college were for me. I was a totally different person then. And Sandra..." He let his words trail off, not sure how much he wanted to say. He didn't plan to be up for several more hours dissecting the personal details of his life, and Dex was relentless when presented with what he considered interesting information.

Dex studied him and Brent met his gaze squarely, knowing that anything else would only sharpen his friend's curiosity.

Finally Dex dropped his gaze and smiled. "All right. So I think I've got the picture. Just from looking at Sandra, let me guess. She was one of the popular kids? If she looked anything like she does now back in high school, I can't imagine her being in the outcast nerd population like you were. She's freaking gorgeous." He c.o.c.ked his head to the side in question, and Brent remained silent. He should have known Dex would a.s.sess the situation correctly. The man worked for the FBI as a very high-level a.n.a.lyst. Not much got past him, which was both a great a.s.set to Club Desire and a major pain in the a.s.s for Brent personally.

Dex shifted in his chair before taking a generous sip of coffee. "So what's the problem? You were acting like you were marking your territory down on the dungeon floor. I've never seen you like that with any woman, especially not a sub. And while Sandra had eyes for no one but you, she seemed incredibly unsure of herself and tentative about your attention. So what gives? Something just isn't adding up."

Brent steeled himself for the next phase of the conversation. He wasn't sure how his friend would react, but he knew how he would react if their situations were reversed. "She doesn't realize who I am yet."

A bark of laughter boomed from Dex before he relaxed back against his chair. "The plot thickens. All right. I can see how she might not recognize you. You once showed me a few pictures of you from high school, and man, I've got to tell you, even if I'd been your best friend back then I probably wouldn't recognize you now. When are you going to tell her? You know you have to."

His direct gaze drilled into Brent, who met it squarely. "It hasn't been the right time yet. But I do plan to tell her."

Dex shook his head. "You're playing with fire, man. I a.s.sume she's already a member and has asked you to be her Dom by now."

It wasn't a question, so Brent didn't bother to respond. Dex was only telling him what he already knew.

"The future revelation of who you really are is going to damage the trust between you. And it's my job as your friend and someone who helped you set up this place to tell you that you need to find a way to tell her as soon as possible. Before you both get in too deep."

Brent unclenched his jaw. "I plan to. And I know it sounds like I'm making excuses, but due to the circ.u.mstances..." He pulled Mason's note out of his pocket. "Did you ever meet my friend Mason?"

Dex shook his head. "No, but you've told me about him. Owns a dungeon in New York, right?"

Brent nodded and handed Dex the note.

After scanning the note, Dex muttered, "s.h.i.t. No wonder she looks like a scared rabbit about to bolt. Do you know exactly what happened?"

Brent shook his head. "I'm going to call Mason in the morning. I have some suspicions from her limits, but I have a feeling there's much more than I know or even suspect."

Dex shifted in his chair. "You know this makes it even more important that you don't damage her trust. It's obvious that you're her Dom of choice. I can be her friend, but even if she chose to do scenes with me, we'd never have the connection you two obviously already have."

Dex's words echoed Brent's view of the situation. He would prefer that he be Sandra's only Dom, but in the end if it was best for her to play elsewhere he would support her choice. But he'd already seen her with Dex, and she'd shown no signs of being the least bit attracted to the big man. Brent was ashamed to admit that he'd been relieved. Dex was one of the most sought-after Doms in the dungeon. The man might work mostly a desk job, but he took care of himself. Like Brent, Dex held a black belt in karate and judo, and his vigilant training showed in his physique.

"Thanks for being a good friend, Dex. I'll do the right thing for her. After I talk to Mason I'll give you an update so if Sandra does need a friend to talk to who isn't her Dom, you'll be armed with information."

Dex nodded and stood, his chair sc.r.a.ping quietly against the tile as it moved back. "Until then, do you mind if I try to dig into this a little more?" He held up the note from Mason.

There was very limited information other than Diego's first name, but Brent was sure Dex could find the restraining order and go from there. He nodded, grateful for any help or information his friend could offer.

Dex tucked the note in his pocket. "Oh, and Brent. Try to get some sleep. You look like c.r.a.p."

Brent laughed. Dex didn't sugarcoat, and Brent had always liked that about him. It was something they had in common.

Chapter 8.

Light speared Sandra in the face and she winced away from it, trying to burrow under the covers. But her restless night had hopelessly tangled her sheets. When she couldn't find her pillow either, she settled for draping her arm over her eyes to block out the stripes of bright light that streamed in through the blinds.

Her cell buzzed on the nightstand and she reached for it automatically. She started to click it over to voicemail since she didn't recognize the number, but she'd been doing that for the past few hours, and whoever was calling kept calling back.

She had nearly answered at six a.m., thinking for some odd reason it might be Brent calling from a different number than the one he'd given her last night, but the area code wasn't right. From the area code flashing on the screen it was someone in New York. But anyone she would want to talk to right now she had programmed into her phone, so his or her name would come up on her display, not just a generic-looking number.

Yet since whoever was calling had been insistent, it might be important, so she finally gave in, huffed, and answered. "h.e.l.lo?"

"It's about time, Sandra," a too-familiar growl carried across the line.

Her blood iced over and she sat up so fast that her head swam.

Diego.

He'd called her from a different number and she'd fallen for it. She'd let her guard down after last night, thinking she would never feel so helpless and alone again. She'd let herself forget about him for a while. Did he know where she'd gone? And if so was he already here?

She took a deep breath, trying to think calmly even as her heart raced and she broke out in a cold sweat. He couldn't get her location just by calling her cell. At least she didn't think he could.

"I did not give you permission to go anywhere, Sandra. You'll be severely punished. And I expect you to meet me at the dungeon at seven tonight."

It took her a minute to realize he meant the dungeon in New York, not Club Desire. Yet even with the knowledge that he was still most likely in New York, bile inched its way up the back of her throat until she thought she would vomit.

He'd made her live in fear for the last few months. But no more. This couldn't go on.

She clenched her teeth and hung up.

She held her breath, her entire body tense until she scrolled through her call history and blocked that number. It wouldn't keep him from calling her from another phone, but that one action made her feel at least a tiny bit more in control of her situation. She blew out her breath when her lungs protested, hoping some of the fear and helplessness would go with it.

She wished she had told him to go to h.e.l.l. But the jangle of nerves inside her belly and the metallic taste of fear on the back of her tongue told her she hadn't been ready for that kind of bravado yet.

She needed to find a job. Then she could afford to change her cell number. She would have to figure out how much it would cost so she could budget for it. That was a priority. Once it was changed, she would have to let everyone who mattered know her new number without telling them where she'd gone or why. Her old roommate knew, and the Doms from New York, but she wasn't ready to retell the story to all the other people who might need to reach her.

One thing at a time.

She wasn't sure how she would hide where she'd gone since any new number she got in Phoenix would most likely have the local area code, and she wasn't sure if everyone would keep her number a secret, even if she asked. She would have to see if her cell service could change her number to one with an area code elsewhere...anywhere but here. There were national carriers, after all. There had to be a way, and she would find it. She just wasn't sure if any of those on her so-called trusted list would either purposely or inadvertently share the new number with Diego.

A shudder ran through her, and she clenched her fingers into fists to fight the effects of that thought.

Until she had the number changed, she would only answer calls from people she knew. But she refused to live the rest of her life looking over her shoulder, scared to death that Diego would find her again.

Sick dread pooled in her stomach like acid. Her head pounded, and her body shook as the sudden flood of adrenaline from her fear ran its course, leaving her hollowed out and weak.

When the phone vibrated again, she yelped and nearly dropped it. But after gulping in a few desperate breaths she saw Master Brent's name flash across the screen, and she scrambled to answer it.

"h.e.l.lo?" She hated that her voice sounded thin and scared, but she hadn't had any time to recover and compose herself.

"Sandra, what's wrong?" Brent's deep voice brought back memories of last night and she longed for the confidence she'd dared to feel in his office.

"Sandra, answer me. What's wrong?"

Both concern and command laced his voice, and it ripped her out of the pit of despair she'd fallen into. With too much whirling through her overtaxed brain, she settled for the first word that came to mind.

"Diego."

"Is he there?" Brent's voice was dagger sharp.

"No. He called me." She gripped the phone like a lifeline as she spoke.

"I'm on my way." The strength in his voice calmed her a little. Enough to battle back the bile inching its way up her throat. "Stay inside with the doors locked. I'll be there in twenty minutes."

- Diego slammed down the phone and cursed, scaring the young woman at the counter who had let him use it despite the restaurant's policy.

"Sorry," he mumbled and then walked away, headed outside to rein in his temper. He needed to calm down. He couldn't afford to bring attention to himself. As it was, if that woman or any of the patrons who were nearby were asked about him, his odd behavior would stand out.

He cursed again as he slid into his car and forced himself to pull the door shut behind him rather than slamming it.

How dare that b.i.t.c.h disappear? He hadn't been able to find her anywhere in the last week. And thanks to her d.a.m.n restraining order, no one at the dungeon would tell him where she'd gone, and her roommate wouldn't talk. Not to mention the d.a.m.n police had been shadowing him anytime he came close to the dungeon. But since Sandra had made herself scarce they'd started to let their guard down, and that was his opening.

He'd told her to meet him tonight at the dungeon to make her think she'd be safe with all the other Doms around who had tried to protect her from him before.

But he knew that if he could just get her to show up, he'd be able to grab her either on the way in or the way out. Both options would work for him...as long as she didn't let anyone else touch her. That wasn't allowed. He'd made it clear to her that he'd end her if she ever let that happen.

A slight miscalculation on his part, he had to admit. The day after he'd told her that, he'd been served with a restraining order and he'd run into a wall of both Doms and police who tried to keep him away from her.

But then she'd disappeared without a word, refusing to answer her phone or return any of his calls. Which was frustrating, since he had to keep calling from different numbers. He wasn't stupid enough to use his cell or his home number to call and violate the d.a.m.n restraining order, even though his current ident.i.ty was just one of his many aliases.

He hadn't used his real ident.i.ty in about a decade now. But he didn't want to give the cops any reason to dig into his past. There were too many things they might start wanting answers to.

Sandra could be lying low staying with friends or hiding out at a hotel somewhere. d.a.m.n the b.i.t.c.h for doing this.

He owned her, body and soul. She might not know it yet, but she would. The weak were put on this earth to be preyed on by the strong. And he was definitely one of the strong. The fact that most of the so-called civilized world didn't agree with him was their issue. He knew he should move on and find another woman, but Sandra was the first who had slipped through his grasp before he was done with her, and he wouldn't allow that failure to taunt him.

No, he would find her. And she would pay.

- Brent pulled up outside the small house Sandra shared with her friend from high school, Mich.e.l.le. His senses were on high alert watching for anything threatening, especially the man who had terrorized Sandra.

It was in an older neighborhood, so there were lots of large trees and shrubs where someone could hide. He scanned the area around the house for anything or anyone out of place, but found nothing. Rather than breathing a sigh of relief, he tensed further. The fear in Sandra's voice when he'd spoken to her had cut through him, and he swore he'd make her feel safe again.

Here in Phoenix. With him.

He shook his head, forcefully reminding himself that even though he was her Dom now, that might be where their connection ended. He would have to keep in mind whatever was for Sandra's highest good regardless of his personal feelings. He made a silent promise to himself that he would.

After hanging up with Sandra, he'd immediately called Dex to update him. Even though Dex worked for the FBI, he also had several very good friends with the Phoenix Police Department. Brent wasn't sure they'd be needed, but if Sandra had felt the need to file a restraining order against Diego in New York, the situation was bad enough that police might be needed.

And worst case, Phoenix PD could keep Brent from killing the guy.

He smiled grimly at the thought as he noted the thin frame door on the house and the several cutouts filled with gla.s.s that decorated the top half. He sighed and made a mental note to look at the safety and security of this place. The door cracked open and Sandra's pale face appeared.

Brent could tell right away that she was still rattled, but she didn't seem to be in any immediate danger. He needed to get her away from here at least for a while. Somewhere to distance her from the emotions Diego's call had caused. Then they could deal with how to make sure it wasn't repeated. And beyond that, to ensure Diego would never find her again.

"Sandra. How are you doing?" He gently pushed the door farther open, which forced her to step back to let him in. She was shaking, so he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against him. She immediately melted into his embrace.

She bit her bottom lip and then sucked in a breath before tipping her head back to look up at him. "I'm okay. I just need to get hold of myself. I'll be fine."

Her words were still shaky, but they showed at least a small hint of the confident woman he'd seen a spark of last night. Still, he knew even the strongest individuals could be shaken to the core.

"It's all right." He rubbed small circles over her back, basking in her warmth. He slowly guided her toward the couch and pulled her down next to him so he could tuck her against him.

Her eyes were glossy, showing him how close to tears she still was below the thin veneer of confidence she was working hard to show.

"Thank you for coming, Master Brent. I'm all right. Truly." She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth again and worried it for a few long seconds. "It caught me off guard. I've blocked the number he called from, but that won't stop him from finding somewhere else to call from. I just won't answer any numbers I don't recognize." Her voice ended on a combination of a small sob and a frustrated sigh.

Brent understood feeling powerless, and he hated that he saw that same knowledge in Sandra's eyes. "You know, Dex holds a self-defense cla.s.s on Monday nights down in Bas.e.m.e.nt 4. No kink, only self-defense lessons, if you're interested. I told the Doms, managers, and security staff about Diego so we can be on the lookout for him. But it might also make you feel better to know you can defend yourself if it's ever needed."

She tipped her face to look up at him and he could clearly see tearstains from where she'd been crying before he arrived. He took her face in his hands, gently feathering his thumbs over her soft cheeks before he lowered his lips to brush hers.

She needed tenderness and care right now, not arousal or s.e.x. This might not be aftercare from playing a scene, but Brent had become very good at reading what people needed at any given moment. That had fueled not only his business success but also his success as a dungeon owner and a Dom. That attention to people's needs had made him a popular Dom. But he'd had several subs who had finally left to find other Doms because he wouldn't collar them. He cared for them, but he didn't love them, and he wouldn't offer his collar or his ring unless that emotion was involved.

Slowly, Sandra's shaking lessened and then stopped. She laid her smaller hand over his, her palm cool to the touch rather than warm like it had been last night.

"Thanks for being here, Master Brent. I let my guard down after last night. It was stupid of me." She met his gaze squarely even though her bottom lip wobbled, showing how hard she was trying to at least appear strong. It was a start.

He still needed to get her somewhere safer as soon as possible.