When she returned to work a week later, after making sure her ex-boyfriend was safely set up in a good hospital, she’d unloaded on her boss, admitting that he was the reason she craved such strong men, and that it was killing her to see him so badly hurt. Seeing her beloved again, and seeing him in such pain, had made the outlet Las Palmas gave her all the more important.
For a long painful year, she’d split her time between her job and her beloved’s recovery. One weekend a month she gave herself over to Las Palmas, desperately needing to be mastered. It was the only way she’d managed to stay calm and in control the rest of the time.
“What are you thinking about?” Master Jensen asked her.
“You.”
“Don’t. Don’t think about it. It’s over.”
It was amazing what a difference a few years could make. If someone had told her two years ago that she’d be junior partner at her firm, a full member of Las Palmas, and that she’d be preparing to be bonded to the perfect Dom, she wouldn’t have believed them. Two years ago, the future had been a terrifying prospect.
“How’s your neck?” he asked, kissing her.
“Fine.”
“And your ass?”
“Sore.”
He kissed her slow and deep.
“Anna?” he whispered against her cheek.
“Yes, Master?”
“I’m starving. Let’s go get dinner.”
Anna chuckled. She slid carefully off the bed, then went to the bathroom. When she came out, he was wearing jeans.
“Put something on. I’m done sharing you.”
Anna’s lips twitched. She went to her overnight bag and pulled out a pink and black bra, panty and garter set. Careful of her ass, she got dressed. Master Jensen kissed the upper swell of her breast, then led her toward the door.
Twenty-four hours later, Anna zipped her skirt and checked her reflection in the mirror. She’d come right from work on Friday, and hadn’t brought any casual clothes with her. She’d be going home in the tailored Chanel skirt suit she’d been wearing when she left the office.
Friday felt like a million years ago, instead of only two days. It was even stranger when she considered that she’d spent most of today sitting quietly with her Master and watching the players who’d been assigned to the letter “B.” She’d thought “A” was intense until she’d seen what the “B” subs were being subjected to.
She placed her toiletry bag in the locker she’d been assigned in one of the Subs’ Garden rooms. Picking up her overnight bag, she pulled out the ring box. Extracting the antique, three-carat sapphire engagement ring, she slid it onto her finger.
She waved to the other subs, both those who were changing into street clothes and those who were lounging in various states of nakedness, their play not yet done. She hadn’t exactly gotten the girls’ night they’d talked about, but there would be other weekends to play with her fellow subs.
Anna smoothed a lock of hair back towards the chic chignon that was her signature hairstyle.
Her Sergio Rossi heeled sandal—alternating thick and think straps of hot pink and zebra print with a fuchsia heel—tapped on the concrete as she left the mansion and made her way toward the parking area. A handsome, blond man was leaning against the fender of a sleek, silver Aston Martin DB9. Anna smiled at her fiancé.
“Hello, gorgeous.”
“Hello, solider.”
The corner of Jensen Couper’s mouth kicked up when she used the nickname she’d coined for him back when they were undergrads.
She kissed him, plucking at the ugly polo shirt he wore. “I’m going to throw this thing away.”
“There’s nothing wrong with this shirt.”
Anna rolled her eyes.
“You’re the only one who cares what I wear.” He took her bag and put it in the trunk.
“At least you dress up for client meetings.”
Jensen snorted. “Only because you make me.”
“When people are giving you millions of dollars, a tie is appropriate.”
He grinned. Looking at him now, with his hair glinting in the fading sunlight, she could see traces of the boy she’d fallen in love with all those years ago. They’d been through more than some people twice their age—he’d gone to war and nearly died. She’d nursed him back to health, while struggling to control her feelings for him and simultaneously dealing with her personal sexual demons.
When he’d been near the end of his recovery and leaned in to kiss her, she’d had to haltingly tell him about what she’d been doing to satisfy her sexual needs, even while she’d emotionally committed to him and his recovery. Jensen hadn’t judged her, and they’d agreed to remain friends. Anna hadn’t wanted to take advantage of his gratitude by starting another relationship. Jensen hadn’t wanted to stand in the way of her exploration of BDSM.
It had been a painful, if productive, period of their relationship, with each of them trying desperately to deny their feelings for one another, and learn to be friends as adults.
Anna had helped him to set up a small engineering firm. Within six months he’d designed a new missile mount for military helicopters. Uneven weight distribution had caused the crash that had nearly killed him, and his design corrected that error. She’d represented him in the patent filing and subsequent multimillion dollar sale of the design. As a result of bringing him on, she was made a junior partner in her law firm, and Jensen was owner and chief designer of an ever-growing mechanical engineering company that specialized in military equipment.
A year ago she’d arrived for one of her monthly visits to Las Palmas where Master Leo had introduced her to their newest member—a handsome, young millionaire who went by the title of Master Jensen.
Anna had thrown herself into his arms and cried. He’d done this for her, she knew that. Later, Leo had told her that Jensen had come to him looking for advice and training. He’d spent six months secretly exploring the world of BDSM before officially joining Las Palmas. That first weekend, she’d been eager to show off for Jensen, and volunteer to sub for a Master who was known for putting on lovely bondage displays.
Jensen had lasted ten minutes before he’d jumped on the stage, demanded that the other Master release her, and then hauled Anna away to fuck her senseless.
They’d spent forty-eight hours locked in a room, exercising years of pent up desire. When they’d left after that first weekend, Anna had told Jensen that outside of Las Palmas she wasn’t sub Anna. She wanted to keep that part of her life separate. He’d understood, and that night he’d taken her home and dropped her off at her front door like a proper gentleman.
The night after that, Anna had shown up at his condo in nothing but a trench coat. Much to their delight, they discovered they could still set the bed on fire outside the D/s relationship.
Two weeks later they’d moved in together, and a month after that Jensen had proposed.
“Baby, you okay?” His question shook her from her trip down memory lane.
“Yeah, just thinking. It’s been a crazy few years.”
He picked up her hand and kissed it. “I would be lost without you. You know that, don’t you?”
“I love you. I hate how much time we lost.”
“Don’t think about it. It all happened for a reason. We might never have found Las Palmas if things had been different.”
“Is kinky sex really worth almost dying?”
Jensen snorted. “Uh, yeah.”
Anna laughed. She waited at the passenger door for him to open it, then held his arm as she gingerly lowered herself onto the seat.
“I’m sorry, gorgeous.” He kissed her temple as she winced.
“No, you’re not.”
“Yeah, I’m not.”
“Jerk.”
“Nympho.”
Jensen slid behind the wheel. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a slip of paper. Rubbing it on the back of his hand, he then cupped her chin and pulled her in for a kiss. The smell of sandalwood flooded the car. Anna gasped as her nipples tightened and her pussy clenched.
“You bastard,” she breathed. Taking the slip of paper, she sniffed it. The scent of sandalwood made her head spin.
“Damn that’s hot.” He rubbed the back of his hand over her breast. “Why didn’t we do that before?”
“Drive, damn it.”
“Yes, Ma’am.” The engine purred to life and Jensen maneuvered the car out of the parking lot and down the long driveway.
“And the joke’s on you. We’re eating Chinese food for Thanksgiving.” Anna rolled down the window to clear out the scent before she went crazy.
“Huh?”
“Sage. The other scent you used was sage. It’s one of the main herbs in stuffing. Since I’m never getting near sage again, we will be eating Chinese food, or Thai food, for Thanksgiving.”
“Damn it, I love stuffing.”
“You really have no one to blame but yourself.”
“I guess I’ll just have to teach you to love sage again.”
“Remember, we only have two more weekends here before the wedding.”
Jensen’s eyes twitched at the mention of their upcoming wedding. It had been nearly ten months since he’d proposed, assuming they’d get married the next week. Anna was unrepentantly planning a six-figure dream wedding. Theirs was an epic love story—it deserved an epic wedding.