"I have the urge to take you home and lock you in the dungeon just because I know you'll be safe down there."

A little bit of the forced cheer faded from her eyes. "I had no idea Aaron was mentally unhinged. He was such a good friend to me."

Keith shook his head. "You should have called me, Kat."

"You wouldn't have let me go."

No, he wouldn't have. "I would have put together a sting operation. We could have nabbed the Friedman brothers too."

She had identified the brothers from photographs, but the DNA evidence would take a little more time to come back.

Tears rolled down her cheeks, fat ones that showed no signs it would be a short shower. He folded his arms around her, and she buried her face in his shoulder. She'd kept it together for her parents and brothers, but now that it was just the two of them, she could let it all out.

__________.

When the nurse came in the next morning, she didn't bother being quiet about it. Katrina opened her eyes to find Keith in the narrow hospital bed with her, cradling her in his arms. No wonder she'd slept so well. He gave her a sleepy smile and kissed her forehead. It amazed her that he could spend the night crammed sideways in a hospital bed and still wake up looking like s.e.x incarnate.

She smiled at the black-haired nurse, who frowned back at her and pointed at Keith. "Sir, you can't be in that bed."

He sat up slowly, stretching muscles that had to be sore. "Good morning, ladies."

The nurse rolled her eyes and checked the machines hooked up to Katrina. "I'm Brenda, and you're going home. The doctor will stop by in an hour or so to talk to you. I'll process your paperwork so you can leave once he gives the okay."

That was good news to Katrina. She hadn't wanted to stay overnight, much less for the day. They'd gathered evidence from her body and run her through a battery of tests. The concussion could take months to heal, and she was more than ready to go home now.

"Do I have time for a shower?"

Brenda pumped the blood pressure cuff full of air. "Yep. Doctor starts rounds at eight. You have a couple hours."

Keith frowned. "Are you sure she should get out of bed? She was too weak to walk yesterday."

"She's fine. Probably still weak, so don't overdo it." Brenda gave Keith a tolerant smile. "Can you step out for a minute?"

He muttered something about getting coffee and left the room. After the nurse finished her exam, Katrina took a shower. She emerged fully dressed to find Keith lounging on the chair he was supposed to have folded out and slept in. His large frame dwarfed the piece of furniture. There was no way he would have been able to sleep on that thing.

He motioned to a cardboard cup. "It might be cold by now. I can get you more. Your mother brought a change of clothes. She's at your condo with Darcy and Layla. They're packing your things and moving them to my house. Malcolm and your dad are replacing your front door and reinforcing the frame. New locks again."

She wrapped her hospital gown tighter around her body and sipped the coffee. It was cool, but it hit the spot. "Thank you. I didn't want to wear those dirty clothes home."

"They're in evidence. You won't get them back."

"Mom didn't want to stay?" She was a little hurt to have missed her mother.

Keith lifted her and put her on his lap. With his arms around her, she felt safe. "She said you were in good hands. She's making chocolate ice cream with brownie chunks to go with lunch."

That was one of Katrina's favorite flavors, a figurative hug from her mother. She snuggled into Keith's embrace. "What happened to Aaron?"

He stroked her hair and pressed his cheek to her head. "He's in a secure wing recovering from a GSW to the stomach and a broken nose. He was surprised to see us and fell backward. Broke some bones and smashed his face."

Katrina knew better than to ask more. The shot she'd delivered to Aaron had been nonfatal, leaving clear entrance and exit wounds. No doubt some of the other injuries had been inflicted by her brother and Keith. "I'm glad he survived. He's not right in the head. He needs help."

From the way Keith snorted, she gathered he didn't agree with her a.s.sessment. "Kat, there's something I've neglected to say to you."

At the gravity in his tone, she peeled herself away from him so she could see his face. "Go on."

A brief smile flashed across his lips. "I love you."

It was a momentous occasion. She knew he'd never said those words out loud before, not to anybody. He probably wouldn't say them to her very often, but she could live with that. She cupped his cheek. "I know. I love you too."

"I want you to move in with me. We'll get married, and I'll take care of you for the rest of my life."

She laughed. "That wasn't quite the romantic proposal I expected."

His brows drew together, and he frowned. "What were you expecting? I don't know how to be romantic, and that whole kneeling thing just isn't me."

"Hmm." She pretended to consider. "I think we'll have to work on the romance part. I like romantic. It makes me feel loved and appreciated."

He sighed. "I can't promise anything but that I'll try."

That was all she wanted. The fact he was willing to make the effort meant the world. Perhaps he wasn't well versed in romance, but he was intelligent and a fast learner. He'd get the hang of it eventually. She rewarded him with a kiss.

"I have something else to tell you." He leaned back in his seat and rested his head against the cushion. Tension stiffened his body, and some of the color had left his face.

She rubbed her hand up and down his chest. "I'm listening."

He sighed. "For my nineteenth birthday, I bought myself a vasectomy. I've never told that to anyone before. I can't get you pregnant. If you want kids in a few years, we can talk about adoption."

"Why would you do that?" She'd always thought that kind of surgery was something a woman had to talk a man into, not something he did voluntarily. And part of her wondered about his reluctance to meet his niece and nephew.

"I never thought I'd be in a position to think about having kids around. But with you, things seem somehow possible. I'd never deny you anything, Kitty Kat, but if you want kids, then that's the only way it's going to happen."

She smacked his shoulder as hard as she could. He didn't flinch. "I mean, why would a healthy young man voluntarily get a vasectomy? You said I'm the only woman you haven't used a condom with."

Some of the stiffness left him, and that ever-present self-confidence wavered. "I'm not sure if you were paying attention when Malcolm was arguing against you dating me, but I'm an alcoholic. I've been sober for nine years, four months, and twenty-seven days. It's not something I tell people or talk about. My sisters and parents are alcoholics. Even my grandparents were heavy drinkers. I think I have an uncle somewhere who is also a drunk. Somebody like me has no business having kids."

She had no business feeling betrayed or upset. At the core of this was a sacrifice by a man she loved, one that probably took a lot of courage and self-loathing to make. Her heart broke for the person he'd been, even though that heartache created the man she loved.

She took his hand in hers. "I'll still marry you. It doesn't change the fact that I love you."

He looked at her, fathoms of sadness swimming behind his eyes. "I never planned to fall in love, especially with you. I always thought you deserved better. I still do. But now I'm not willing to let you go, so you're stuck with me, for better or for worse."

She planted a subdued kiss on his lips. "Sounds good to me."

Epilogue.

Three Months Later Katrina checked the thick leather belt encircling his midsection. He wore nothing else on his magnificent body. "Is it loose enough?"

Keith smiled patiently. It was the third time she'd asked that question. "It's fine. Too loose and it'll fall off." When she reached to check it again, he grabbed her wrists, halting her action. "If I say you're ready, then you're ready. Stop stalling, Kitty Kat."

He'd made her practice with the flogger for two weeks, but he hadn't let her start until he felt she was sufficiently healed from her ordeal. She'd vented some of her pent-up energy on pillows, and then he'd propped a futon mattress against the wall with pieces of colored tape marking various targets. She'd become pretty good at hitting the target, which had led Keith to consent to this step.

As they were preparing to come down to the dungeon, he'd carelessly dropped a bombsh.e.l.l on her. He'd never allowed a submissive to flog him. The people he usually saw for this kind of thing weren't dominant either. They were pure s.a.d.i.s.ts, interested only in the delivery of pain.

Though he'd given her the opportunity to chicken out, she hadn't chosen that avenue. She wanted to do this for him. It was just jitters. She wasn't sure if the jitters came from the fact that she'd never done this or from Keith's warning that he might not be all that gentle afterward.

He turned around, and she snapped his wrist cuffs to the Saint Andrew's cross. While he wasn't keen on putting her up there, she was very familiar with how to secure the snaps. He liked to tie her to the Y-table, the brand-new spanking bench, and the exam chair. She'd come to realize that the cross was for him, a fantasy he kept that proved he wasn't as jaded as he'd originally thought. When she'd pointed that observation out to him, he'd just smiled and continued painting her toenails, an activity it turned out he very much enjoyed.

"I'm going to start slow and warm you up."

"Don't push it, Kitty Kat. Stop when you get tired. Stamina will come with time and practice."

The wrist cuffs were to remind him not to move. They in no way indicated that she was in charge of the scene. He trusted her to do right by him.

She targeted the upper left section of his back first. Today she wasn't going to do anything fancy like move around to hit unexpected areas or vary the intensity of her swing. Keith was quite skilled with those nuances. While she enjoyed them, he'd been clear that she couldn't expect to have that level of skill in just a few weeks. He'd been at this for years.

On his torso, his skin was still bronzed from working in the yard, but his a.s.s was lily-white. When she got to those knee-weakening, sculpted muscles, she enjoyed the pattern of emerging marks. As she played over that area, she lost herself in the darkening shades of red that layered one on top of the other.

Her head buzzed, and she realized that she'd been at it far longer than she'd intended. She placed the flogger on a table at the side of the room and released his cuffs. Immediately he pushed her to her knees. She'd forgotten his first condition. After the flogging, she was to kneel and thank him for letting her pleasure him this way.

"Thank you for allowing me to flog you, Keith. You have a very nice a.s.s."

He didn't say anything, but the long, hard length of his c.o.c.k pointed eagerly in her direction. Finally, he gathered her hair in one hand. "It's a rush, isn't it, Kitty Kat?"

A rush? Yes. That was a good way to describe it. It was almost like subs.p.a.ce except that she was the one responsible for the action of the scene. "Yes, it was."

"You need to be careful to stay in the present. Dommes who go too far often do so when they're completely unaware of what's happening with the sub. They're lost in the feel of the swing or the snap of the whip or the way the lines and welts make pretty designs. They forget there's a living, breathing person on the other end. That's how accidents happen." His voice was soft, not at all the feral monster he'd predicted. She wondered if she'd disappointed him.

"I'm sorry, Keith. Did I hurt you too much?" Her heart was heavy with dread. She hadn't wanted to hurt him. No part of her was a s.a.d.i.s.t. She wanted to give him this in order to please him.

"No, Kitty Kat. But it's one of the reasons I'm not letting you use the heavier floggers yet." With his free hand, he cupped her chin and ran his thumb along her lip. "That was pretty good for your first time. I am pleased with you, and I'm going to reward you."

She wanted to ask how, but she knew better than to speak. Using the tangle of her hair as a guide, he helped her to her feet. Then he hooked his arm under her knees and swept her off the floor. The firm mattress they'd used for target practice now sat on a frame in the corner of the dungeon.

He set her down gently and settled himself on top of her. The kiss began sweetly, with the worshipping of her cheeks and eyelids. Then he explored her lips leisurely. She opened to him on a breathless sigh, luxuriating in his expert attention. The man kissed like a G.o.d, and he was all hers.

With tiny, teasing forays, he deepened the kiss. By the time he ravaged her with his tongue, she was lost in the sweetest bliss. Then he positioned his c.o.c.k at her entrance and thrust inside, claiming her swiftly. Given the pace he'd set so far, she expected him to make love to her slowly, but Keith had other ideas. The frenzy took him, and he pumped his hips, taking her with long, hard strokes that filled her completely and then left her empty and pining for more.

She whimpered as the fire grew. She became a cinder, a hot ember floating through the air, and she held on to his shoulders to keep from drifting away. She whispered his name, but it evolved into a scream and a desperate request for o.r.g.a.s.m.

"Please let me come, Master. Please, oh please!"

With a growling purr, he bit her earlobe. "Yes, Kitty Kat. Come for me."

The bomb inside exploded, and she forgot how to move. Her arms dropped down on either side of her head, and the legs she'd been unaware were wrapped around his hips also fell with a dull thud. Keith's body jerked as he came, and then he collapsed next to her.

"Thank you, Master."

He gave her a satisfied smile. When she felt it to the core of her heart, she used his t.i.tle, and she was okay with that.

__________.

Later they went upstairs, hand in hand, to take a shower. Her parents expected them to be on time for Thanksgiving dinner. On the way to the master suite, they pa.s.sed one of the guest bedrooms that Keith had converted into a child's room. He'd arranged a crib along one wall. Perpendicular to it was a pink-and-white toddler's bed, complete with side rails. A dresser, a low set of shelves, and a huge toy bin rounded out the furniture.

Mrs. Daley was still working on a permanent placement for Angelina and Corey, but Keith had been granted regular visiting privileges, which he exercised at least twice each week. The kids hadn't stayed overnight, but they'd napped in that room quite often.

Katrina bit her bottom lip as they pa.s.sed. Keith might protest now that having children wasn't a priority, but she'd seen him with Corey, a little blond boy who greatly resembled his uncle. And Angelina had wrapped him completely around her tiny finger. She had only to smile up at him with those big brown eyes, and he would scoop her into his arms and swing her around.

They'd dealt with one full-out tantrum. Keith had kept his calm as he wrapped her in his embrace, which had helped Angelina normalize. Since then, they'd been working on appropriate ways to express anger and frustration. It wasn't easy, but Mrs. Daley had been helpful in providing names of counselors. While they hadn't discussed the idea of the children becoming a more permanent part of their lives, the possibility remained out there, with Mrs. Daley giving them stronger and less veiled suggestions every time they met.

Keith and Katrina stepped into the shower together, and he drew her into his arms. He kissed her lips and whispered in her ear, "Touch yourself for me."

Katrina reclined on the shower seat, one of her favorite features in the house they now shared, and lifted one foot to let it rest on the edge. Across from her, Keith stroked his c.o.c.k as he watched her through his half-closed lids.

"I love you, Kat."

She smiled at the man of her dreams. "I love you too, Keith."

Michele Zurlo.

I'm Michele Zurlo, author of over 20 romance novels. During the day, I teach English, and in the evenings, romantic tales flow from my fingertips.

I'm not half as interesting as my characters. My childhood dreams tended to stretch no further than the next book in my to-be-read pile, and I aspired to be a librarian so I could read all day. I'm pretty impulsive when it comes to big decisions, especially when it's something I've never done before. Writing is just one in a long line of impulsive decisions that turned out to showcase my great instincts. Find out more at www.michelezurloauthor.com or @MZurloAuthor.

Excerpt from Re/Claimed.

Coming July 2015.

Dustin wanted to be her boyfriend. He wanted to date her. Go steady. Be an item. It seemed both juvenile and momentous.