Nora marched right up to the judge’s front door and rang the bell.

“Nora, I don’t want you getting into trouble for me.” Lance took her hand. “Let’s go. I can figure my own problems out.”

“You can go if you want, but I’m staying. I’m not happy unless I’m getting in trouble. Don’t you want me to be happy?” She gave him her most ingratiating, innocent, and utterly fake smile.

“You’re evil.”

“Well...obviously.” She patted him on the cheek as patronizingly as she could. Mrs. B. opened the door and gave Nora a look of surprise.

“Hello there, dear. I didn’t think you had an appointment tonight.” Mrs. B. ushered Nora and Lance inside.

“No appointment. Is the judge home? I need to talk to him about a legal issue.”

“Did you get arrested again?” Mrs. B looked like a worried mother hen.

“No, I promise. Not this week. Not yet, anyway.”

“That’s good to hear,” Mrs. B said. “The judge is in his office. Go on in.”

Nora thanked the woman, and she and Lance headed back down the hall. Nora found Judge B at his desk, his nose buried in a massive legal tome. He gave her a beatific smile as she walked in.

“Miss Nora, what brings you here?” He came around his desk, and kissed Nora on the cheek.

“I need a favor, Judge. Or maybe just legal advice.”

“Did you get arrested again?” he asked, giving her a stern look.

“Why does everyone always ask me that? Don’t answer that,” she said. “Judge B., this is Lance. He’s my bodyguard, and he’s got a problem. Tell him your problem, Sailor.”

“I’m all ears,” Judge B said, motioning Nora and Lance to sit. They moved books off the chairs and sat down while the judge sat on the edge of the desk and gave them his full attention.

Lance told the judge the same story he’d told Nora—the quick marriage, the deployment, the daughter, the wound in his back and the surgeries, the wife who’d withheld sex, the pornography and the custody fight, the only fight Lance had ever lost.

The judge nodded as he listened, asked a few questions here and there. At the end they all sat in silence waiting for the judge’s verdict.

“Son...” the judge finally said, “you got screwed.”

Lance laughed and shook his head. “I did and it was the worst sex I ever had.”

“All this over some porn?” Judge B. sounded disgusted. “Who doesn’t watch porn?”

“Blind people?” Nora offered her best and only guess. “And Lance wasn’t even watching the really good porn.”

“Subspace.com?” the judge asked, sound disappointed. Personal experience, no doubt.

“That. Can’t stand that tame shit,” Nora said. “The good stuff’s on Kinkster.com.”

“It’s pay-per-view, though,” Judge B. said.

“But it’s worth every penny. They’ve got the best group sex vid on there. Lots of feet action.”

“Can you send me the link?”

“Excuse me,” Lance interjected. “Are we talking about my legal situation or where to find the best kinky porn?”

“Why can’t we talk about both?” Nora asked Lance who replied with only a glare. “Fine, back on subject. So Lance got screwed. What can he do about it?”

The judge adjusted his glasses as he spoke.

“I can help. Definitely. If everything you’ve told me is true—”

“It is,” Lance said.

“Then there is some hope. I know the judge you had—Hawkins? Hate that self-righteous bastard. He sides with the mothers in 95 percent of his cases no matter what the circumstances. I can suggest a good attorney, and we’ll get your case moved to another judge. We’ll have to petition the court for a new hearing based on new circumstances—”

“What new circumstances?” Lance asked. “Nothing’s really changed.”

“Considering your fitness as a parent was called into question, you’ll probably need a psychiatric evaluation, a thorough one. Once the psych eval clears you of being an unfit parent, then you’ll have plenty of ammunition in your fight.”

“I can do that, definitely. You think it’ll work?”

The judge nodded. “Yes. Once we get you in a new courtroom, which I can handle, and your attorney presents your psych eval and any other new evidence...should at least get you joint custody.”

“That’s all I want. I don’t want to take Maya from her mom.”

“That attitude is the right one to have. This battle is for your daughter, not against your ex-wife. A bad attitude can doom a case. But speaking of dooming a case...”

Judge B. turned his gaze from Lance and onto Nora.

“What?” Nora asked. “What did I do this time?”

“You exist,” Judge B. said.

“That’s not my fault,” Nora said. “I didn’t ask to be born. Which is good because my mother probably would have said no.”

The judge gave a tired, nervous laugh.

“My dear...I could not be more grateful that you exist,” he said. “But am I correct in assuming this young man is slightly more than just a bodyguard?”

“We did have sex today. A lot of it,” she admitted without shame.

“That’s going to be an issue.” The judge looked from Nora to Lance. Nora felt her stomach starting to tighten with fear.

“How much of an issue?” Lance reached out and took Nora’s hand. The touch comforted her, but her stomach remained taut with worry.

“A big one. This beautiful young lady lives and works on the outskirts of legality. She assaults people for money and is paid in cash, probably under the table.”

“I take the Fifth.” Nora’s stomach knot twisted tighter.

“Does he know the rest?” the judge asked her and Nora winced.

“No. Not yet.”

“There’s a rest?” Lance looked at her with a gaze that said “You’ve gotta be kidding me.” “You mean more than you being a professional Dominatrix?”

“Sort of,” she said.

“More than sort of.” The judge walked over to his bookcase and ran his hands along the spines. He pulled out a rather battered-looked paperback novel. Nora held her breath. “Here you go, son. Ever read the books by this lovely lady?”

Lance stared at the cover. “The Runaway by...Nora Sutherlin. Nora, you write books?”

“I am exercising my right to remain silent.”

“Guilty on all charges. And I might throw the book at you.” Judge B. tossed her book at her. “Even if no one in the courtroom knew about Miss Nora’s moonlighting as a Dominatrix, it’s public record that she’s an erotica writer.”

“I had no idea you were famous,” Lance said, looking both impressed and concerned.

“I’m a writer. I’m the opposite of famous.”

“Infamous,” the judge supplied. “Shall I tell him what the book’s about or will you?”

“I write my own copy all the time. I’ll do it. It’s loosely based on the story of Daphne and Apollo, except in this case Daphne is a sixteen-year-old girl who lives in a group home and is being pursued by the handsome older off-duty cop who accidentally killed her violent twin brother while restraining him during a fight. It’s actually a sweet love story. You know, apart from all the statutory rape.”

Lance buried his face in his hands.

“In a child custody case, everything is evidence including the works of fiction written by the father’s new girlfriend.”

“You’re not helping my case here, Judge B.” Nora pointed her finger at him. He raised his hands in surrender.

“You wanted the truth and my help. I’m simply telling it like it is.” The judge sighed heavily. “Of course, it does get worse.”

“Worse?” Lance’s eyes widened in horror. “What’s worse?”

“The lovely Miss Nora works for Kingsley Edge who I assume you also work for, yes?”

“Yes,” Lance said, his lips tightening into a thin line of worry.

“Kingsley Edge is the last person in this city you want to be involved with when fighting for custody of a child. No matter his virtues as an individual, his enterprise is slightly... What’s the word I’m looking for?”

“Illegal,” Nora said, swallowing a hard knot in the throat.

“More than that,” the judge continued, “it’s dangerous. With that much money involved, that many important people who have a lot to lose are involved...let’s just say it’s not going reflect well on you to be on his payroll.”

“So I quit the job?” Lance asked. Nora could hear the disappointment in his words, the reluctance.

“You’ll have to if you want your daughter back. You’re no longer in the Navy?”

“No. Medical discharge. Honorable discharge,” he said.

“Were you awarded any medals?”

“Maybe,” he said and left it at that.

“That’s good. I can make sure we get you a new judge, a judge who has a military background. As a veteran, a wounded and decorated veteran, you should have a very good chance for equal custody. Have you considered rejoining the Navy?”

“Not really an option. I was offered a job in defense contracting from a company that works with the Navy in Rhode Island.”

“With SPECWAR?” Nora asked.

Lance narrowed his eyes at her. “How do you know about that?”

Nora mimed locking her lips and throwing away the key.

“Don’t ask, don’t tell.” She had a rather important client there she would hate to piss off. Damn good tipper.

“How’s the pay?” the judge asked Lance.

“Stellar. But it’s a desk job. I like to be active. That’s why I wanted to work for Kingsley running security at his clubs, helping people in a hands-on way. Sitting in front of a computer isn’t my idea of serving people.”

“It might be worth swallowing your pride over. Getting your paycheck from a legitimate employer will reflect much better on you than a paycheck from Kingsley Edge. There’s no bones about it, young man. I can get you in front of a sympathetic judge, I can help you find a good lawyer, I can tell you which psychologist to call for your psych eval, but the rest is up to you. If you want your daughter back, you’re going to have to say goodbye to this world, goodbye to your job with Kingsley and goodbye to Mistress Nora.”

Lance fell silent. Nora looked up at Judge B. who could only smile apologetically at her. She leaned forward and squeezed his hand, grateful for his honesty even if his honesty hurt.

“So let me get this straight...” Lance stood up and started to pace the small cluttered office. “I have dreamed for two years about getting my daughter back. I have dreamed for sixteen years about finding the perfect woman for me. I find the perfect woman for me and find out how to get my daughter back, but...to get my daughter back, I have to give up the perfect woman.”

“If it makes you feel any better,” Nora said, turning to face him, “I’m not the perfect woman.” If Lance thought she was perfect, maybe they should go their separate ways.

“Perfect or not,” Judge B. said, “you are correct. Being involved with her would give your ex-wife’s attorney all the ammunition they need to keep you away from your daughter. Is it fair? No, not at all. I have nine grandchildren and would let Miss Nora babysit for them in a heartbeat. But what is fair is rarely a question the courts bothering answering. What is right is often thrown under the bus in favor of what looks right.”

“But you’re a client of hers.” Lance faced the judge and pointed at Nora. “How is it okay for you to be involved with her and not me?”

“That’s a good question but with an ugly answer. I’m a judge, you aren’t. Also, I have money and influence, and I’m only a year or two away from retirement. I could retire tomorrow, but I love my work and feel like I still have something to offer. My children are grown and they all have an inkling about my interests so they’d hardly be shocked by a scandal. They certainly would never try to keep my grandchildren from me. If it came to light that I saw this lovely lady once a week, I’d retire early, taking some ribbing from friends and colleagues, and move down to Boca with my wife.”

Lance sat back down again with a heavy sigh.

“There’s no other way?” he asked, looking up at the judge with imploring eyes.

“Son, I wish I could tell you something different. I wish I could tell you that there weren’t two sets of rules out there for rich, important people like me and normal people like you. I wish I could tell you there wasn’t a separate set of rules for men and women. I could tell you that but it would be a lie and you know it. And lying to you won’t help you get your daughter back.”

“What do I do now?” Lance asked after a long and heavy silence.

“You get out of this world and you don’t look back,” Judge B. said. “Cut off contact with her, with Kingsley, with this whole world. You get your psych evaluation to prove you’re a fit parent. Take the job with a civilian defense contractor if it pays well and looks good for the courts.”

“But Lance is kinky,” Nora protested, ready to scream at the unfairness. “That’s like telling a gay man to be straight so he can have custody of his kid.”

“Yes, and if that gay man wanted custody of his child badly enough he’d do it or at least put on a damn good show for the court. Look, I’m not saying you have to give up this lifestyle. If in a year or two after you win custody back you find a nice girl who has a job at a bank or is a schoolteacher...and she just happens to enjoy role-play in the bedroom, then that’s fine. It’s between you two. You won’t do it while your daughter’s in the house. You won’t leave any evidence of it lying around. But you running around town with a professional Dominatrix who writes hard-core erotica and gets arrested every other week is going to get you and your case laughed right out of court.”

“I have to do it now?” Lance asked, and Nora’s heart broke at the question. Broke for him and broke for her. She already knew the answer before the judge gave it to them.

“I would suggest it. The sooner the better. The more time you spend with her the more likely it is someone will find out, the more likely your ex-wife will find out. There’s no privacy in this world anymore. The Internet has killed that fantasy. All it takes is one person knowing or one picture or one rumor spreading...your ex-wife can hire a private detective and get all the evidence she needs in an hour to keep you away from your daughter. Most judges don’t know their asses from a hole in the ground, so trying to explain the difference between a Dominatrix and a prostitute... Well, you’d have a better chance teaching me how to tap-dance on the moon. Or teaching the Miss Nora here...”

“Math,” she suggested. “I’m really bad at math.”

“Here’s some math even you can do then,” the judge said, giving her a kind but hopeless smile. “You plus Lance equals no custody for his daughter.”

Nora swallowed a hard lump in her throat.

“I fucking hate math.”

Nora and Lance thanked the judge for his honesty and his time, and they left the house with nothing but heavy hearts and another bag of Mrs. B.’s chocolate chip cookies.

“What do you want to do?” Nora asked once inside the car. “I can take you home.”

“I don’t want to go home.” Lance leaned his head against the window. “I want to go to your house, spend the night with you and never leave your bed again.”

“I want that, too.” Nora put her hand on his knee and squeezed. “But you heard what Judge B. said.”

“I heard.”

“Lance...Listen to me. This is your Mistress talking.”

“Fine, I’m listening.”

“I’m crazy about you. But we just met a few days ago. The sex is amazing and you’re amazing, but this is something bigger than both of us.”

Lance fell silent again and Nora decided to simply drive around until he made a decision. She always felt better when driving. A car felt more at home to her than her house did. So she hits the streets and let whim dictate her directions.

And for some reason, the direction whim took her was Wakefield, Connecticut.

“Are you kidnapping me?” Lance asked when they left the city.

“Don’t tempt me. I just might. I’ll knock you out and when you wake up we’ll be in the middle of nowhere France in a beautiful little cottage with all the bondage and S&M equipment we could ever need.”

“Sounds like heaven.”

“It is heaven. Except it’s a No Children Allowed sort of Heaven. Is that your version of heaven?”

Lance didn’t answer and she didn’t expect him to. Once they entered Wakefield, Nora had to consciously force herself to drive in the opposite direction of Sacred Heart, Søren’s church...her church. Instead she steered her car a mile away into a small residential neighborhood on the outskirts of town.

“Where are we?” Lance asked as she parked in a cul-de-sac in front of a shabby pre-fab duplex with sickly pale green aluminum siding and a dead lawn. Behind the cul-de-sac stood a wall of trees, windblown and tired.

“It doesn’t look any better now than when I lived here.” Nora got out of the car and leaned back against the door.

“You used to live here?”

“Yup. Grew up in this house.” She pointed at the left side of the duplex.

“It’s...” Lance paused and Nora laughed.

“Shitville, USA?”

“I didn’t say that,” Lance raised his hand.

“You didn’t have to. Admittedly, it’s not like I grew up in the projects or anything. Just on the wrong the side of the tracks. Anyway, it’s not pretty. It’s worse on the inside.”

“Worse?”

“It’s probably the one bad neighborhood in this entire town. But no one lives here anymore. Not in the house or the neighborhood.”

She looked up and down the street and saw only a car or two parked and no signs of life.

“Why not?”

Nora started to answer but closed her mouth when the sound of an oncoming train started up in the distance. She smiled at Lance and put her hands in her jacket pockets.

“One...” she said, counting the seconds, “two...three...Brace yourself.”

At the end of the three, the train barreled past with ear-splitting loudness. Lance covered his ears but Nora only waited it out.

“What the fuck?” Lance lowered his hands from his ears.

“The railroad tracks are right behind the trees here. I grew up with that sound—every day and every night. I can still sleep through a hail storm because I grew up with that in my backyard.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Nora shook her head.

“Nope. A decade ago a train derailed about fifty yards that way.” She pointed east. “It was carrying some nasty chemicals on it. This entire neighborhood was evacuated. Lots of people moved out then and never moved back.”

“Is it safe to be here?”

“It’s clean now. But no one wants to live near the tracks.”

“I can’t blame them.” Lance kicked a rock in the front lawn.

“Me neither. It was nothing but plastic plates and plastic cups growing up. We literally could not have nice things in our house. They’d fall off the table and break into a thousand pieces. When I bought my house, the one you’ve been in, the first thing I did was buy a whole set of crystal glasses and vases and everything I could get my hands on, the more breakable the better. I like having things I can break, knowing they’ll only break when I want them to.”

“Not because you live right on the train tracks.”

“Exactly.”

“Were you happy here?” Lance stepped onto the sidewalk and Nora followed. So weird to be back in this neighborhood. So many memories came rushing over her that she felt she could drown in their murky depths.

“I did okay here,” she said. “I never learned how to ride a bike. I got one, a pink Schwinn, but it got stolen before I could learn to ride it. We couldn’t afford a new one. I cared more about motorcycles than bicycles by that point, anyway.”

“You lived here with your parents?”

“My mom.” Nora walked up to the front door. She peered in a window and saw the emptiness inside—no furniture, no people, no life.

“Where was your dad?”

“The Iron Triangle in Queens. That’s where his chop shop was. Or he was in jail. I was a baby when my mom realized her mechanic husband actually ran a chop shop. She left him. They got divorced and Mom refused any child support. She didn’t want my father anywhere near me. She was so pissed at him that even after he died she got their marriage annulled.”

“I don’t blame her. God, I can’t imagine growing up like this.” He pointed at the decrepit house, the abandoned neighborhood. “I can’t imagine growing up with my father in prison. Dad...he and I are buddies. He was a sub commander, not that you’d ever know it. Very humble man.”

“Sub commander? Sounds like me. Different sort of subs, obviously.”

“Submarines,” Lance said, laughing. “He was on his last deployment right before the Gulf War broke out. Instead of coming home, he stayed in. I think that’s the one time I remember my mom breaking down while Dad was away. She was already planning his welcome home party.”

“God damn, that must have been hard.” Nora took his hand in hers.

“It was. I asked him about it, asked him if he was angry he had to stay in. He said he wasn’t. He knew Mom had things under control, that my sister and I were doing fine. He said...”

Lance paused and swallowed. A smile flitted across his face.

“My dad said that there comes a time when what you want to do is the opposite of what you need to do. And the boys do what they want to do, but the men...” Lance stood up a little straighter. “The men do what they need to do.”

“I see where you get all your annoying nobility from.”

“No, Dad’s one of a kind. He says I’m his hero. I say the same about him.”

“You’re lucky to have a great father, such great parents. Mom and I butted heads from day one. I was a Daddy’s girl. Not in the kinky way.”

“There’s a kinky way to be a Daddy’s girl?” Lance sounded horrified.

“Don’t judge.”

“Sorry.”

“When I was thirteen, fourteen, I’d run off to Queens any chance I could to see him. I’d take a bus, take the subway, surprise him at his shop. He’d treat me like his little princess, take me to lunch with his friends, then drive me home. He wasn’t a real parent, never disciplined me or anything. Mom did all the work so I hated her and loved him.”

“What happened? I mean, to him and you.”

Nora turned away from the window, the empty house, the memories.

“I got in trouble. Big, bad trouble. My father ran for the hills and left me hanging, even though it was his fault I was in all that trouble. Søren stepped in and took care of me as best as he could. But I wasn’t my father’s little girl anymore. And then Dad was dead, and I didn’t miss him.”

Lance stood in silence and stared at the house.

“I have no regrets about how my life turned out,” Nora said, coming to stand next to him. “But if I could wave a magic wand and grow up with a father as loving and caring and protective as you, I’d wave the hell out of it.”

“You would?”

“In a heartbeat. There are two types of teenage rebellion—the normal kind and the kind that gets you in juvenile detention. Mine was of the latter variety. And I know if I’d had a normal father, a good father, that wouldn’t have been the case.”

“I want to be a good father to my daughter. You know I do.” Lance squeezed her hand before letting it go again.

“When a girl feels abandoned by her dad, she might latch onto any older man who takes an interest in her. Luckily for me, this other man I latched on to took great care of me. He got me out of trouble and kept me out of trouble. It could have just as easily been a sleaze I fell for who knocked me up and left me stranded again. I know a few girls who went down that path.”

Lance rubbed his chin, that half a day’s stubble she found so enticing. But she kept her hands to herself, knowing the next time she touched him would be the last time she touched him.

“I could get my daughter back,” Lance finally said.

“You could. Judge B. sounded pretty optimistic. He knows everyone in family court, has lots of pull. He’ll be able to help you.”

“I’m grateful to him. It’s just...” Lance turned and looked at her and in his dark blue eyes she saw the road they’d never take, not together anyway. And it would have been a lovely stroll down that road. The entire Underground would have turned out for the party when their infamous Mistress Nora finally settled down and put a collar on a sub. The women would swoon over handsome, noble, chivalrous Lance and the men would admire him for being man enough to take her on. She could see the mornings ahead of them: the breakfasts Lance would serve to her in bed, the tea he’d bring to her office while she worked on a book, the neck rubs he’d give her when she spent too much time sitting at her desk or too long flogging a client. She could imagine how devastatingly debonair Lance would look in a tuxedo when they attended a formal party at Kingsley’s or a special event her publisher hosted. And the nights...all those nights in bed with Lance serving her every sexual whim and Nora treating him to his every desire... They could live a lifetime of good nights together. He could give her everything she wanted. She could give him everything he needed. And no one could take that away from them.

“I have to do what I need to do,” Lance said at last. “Even if it’s not what I want to do.”

“One last good night?” Nora offered. It was all she had to give.

Lance nodded instead of speaking. They drove in silence to her house and in silence they entered it. In silence they kissed and in silence she led him to the bedroom.

All night long he lavished attention on her body. He spent an hour kissing and teasing her breasts. She spent another hour beating him black and blue with her floggers, single-tails and canes. For his sake she wanted to leave him with bruises that would last for weeks. For her sake she wanted to know that he would carry the imprint of their time together on his body. She tied him down and rode him until she’d exhausted herself and him with orgasms. Then they slept but only for a while.

Nora awoke in the hour before dawn. She stared at Lance’s sleeping form. Of all the men she’d let in this bed none looked more right in it than Lance. A mix of moonlight and streetlight snuck into the room and revealed the welts and bruises that decorated Lance’s broad, muscled back.

Willpower alone kept her from kissing one beautiful and blackening bruise under his shoulder blade. Instead of touching him or kissing him, she pulled away and tiptoed to her closet. She slipped into a sheer black negligee she’d bought months ago but hadn’t worn yet. Why not? No better time than now. Now was all they had. But she wasn’t finished digging yet. Somewhere in this mess of a walk-in closet...she knew it was here...yes. She found it. The black velvet bag she’d hidden away.

From the top of her closet she pulled down a candle box and a lighter. As Lance slept she lit six of the candles and set them about the room. She had no plans for wax-play unless he asked her for it. She merely wanted to see his body by candlelight for the first and last time.

At last she had the room ready. Sunrise was still an hour away.

Standing at the side of the bed Nora paused, picked up a candle and bent forward. Her lips touched Lance’s shoulder the second the hot wax landed on his back.

Lance twitched and came awake in an instant and sat up. Panting from the shock of the painful awakening, he stared at Nora and said nothing, waiting like a well-trained soldier for the next command.

Nora only stared at him for a moment, at the veins in his forearms, the lines of lean muscle in his stomach and chest, the scattering of scars that only added to his allure. She set the candle back on the table. She picked up the black velvet bag, opened the silver drawstring and pulled out a heavy leather collar.

Lance looked down at the collar and then back at her with a question in his eyes. Nora turned it in her hand, tilting it toward the light.

“There’s this Israeli leatherworker that Kingsley knows. He makes all of Kingsley’s whips and floggers. Old guy. Probably knew Moses. Anyway...” Nora traced the ornate silver buckle on the back of the collar. “He had this with him last time he was at Kingsley’s. I bought it. One of those love-at-first-sight, impulse buys.” She smiled at Lance who seemed to be barely breathing now. Nora’s words, although whispered, seemed to echo off the walls. “The craftsmanship is incredible. See the grooves on it? It’s engraved. He said it’s the Hebrew words for Protector. Provider. Slave. He’s a romantic old soul. I didn’t have anyone in mind when I bought it. I just wanted it.”

“Why?” Lance asked, still staring at the collar but not touching it.

“I don’t know. Why do girls who don’t have boyfriends buy bridal magazines? They buy them to dream, I guess. Even Dominatrixes have dreams.”

“I wish I could make your dreams come true, Mistress.”

“You can. For an hour maybe. Dreams don’t last long. They don’t even last the whole night.”

“How? I’ll do anything.”

“Wear this for me. Accept it. Be mine until morning since that’s all we have left.”

“It’s not enough time.”

“How much would be enough?” she asked, not expecting an answer. “The longer we put this off, the more it will hurt, the more people who will know about us. You know she’s more important to you than I am. You know she has to be.”

Lance nodded reluctantly.

Nora unbuckled the lock on the collar.

“Until dawn?” she asked. “Just until then?”

“Yes. Better an hour in paradise than a lifetime outside the walls.”

“Come inside,” she said and raised the collar.

“Are you sure? You shouldn’t waste something—”

She laid her hand on the side of his face and caressed his stubble with her thumb.

“The night we met you gave the bartender a ten-dollar tip for seven dollars’ worth of beer at a club where the alcohol is free and the only guys who tip the server are trying to get her in bed which you weren’t. Yes, I’m sure. And no, it’s not a waste.”

Lance raised no more objections. He leaned forward and rested his forehead head on her shoulder. Nora locked the collar around his neck and he sat up straight again. As she knew it would, it fit Lance perfectly. Never in her twelve years in the Underground had she seen a more handsome collared sub. The collar drew attention to the muscles in his shoulders and his powerful neck. He looked stronger in it, not weaker, more manly, not less.

“You’re mine.” She kissed his lips. “My property. My possession. My slave and servant. My knight and my protector.”

“Yours,” he said and seemingly could say no more.

Nora placed her hands on either side of his neck, feeling his pulse beating against the leather collar.

“Make love to me any way you want. Whatever your fantasy is, whatever your dream, live it with me now. Don’t worry if I’ll like it or not, because I’m with you. I know I’ll love it.”

Lance slid out of the bed and stood behind her. He pressed his naked body against her back. Nora’s hips were flush with the bed. Against her lower back she felt his erection, impossibly hard and thick. He kissed the side of her neck and the leather of the collar scraped her skin, a sensation so surprising and erotic that chills passed through her all the way to her feet. For one brief moment she thought of Søren. Had he relished the feel of her collar on his shoulder or chest as she lay under him? Did he miss it now that she no longer wore it?

Lance’s hands on her breasts sent thoughts of all other men scattering. He cupped them through the thin fabric of her negligee and her nipples hardened, puckering against his fingers.

“Standing?” she asked as he slid the straps of her gown down her arms, baring her breasts. “From behind? That’s the fantasy?” She wasn’t disappointed or displeased, merely curious why he’d chosen this way for their last time together.

He kissed her earlobe as he pinched her nipples, waves of pleasure shooting into her stomach.

“Standing so I can protect you.” He ran a hand through her long hair and shoved a fistful of it off the back of her neck. “From behind so I can shield you.”

She understood at once what he meant. If someone broke into the house while they were making love, Lance’s body would stand between her and the intruder at the door. Even during sex he would keep her safe or die trying.

Lance kissed the back of her neck, kissed his way down her spine. Kneeling, he caressed the back of her thighs with his mouth. He lifted her gown and kissed her bottom, back and hips. Slipping a hand between her legs, he spread her folds with his fingertips, teased the taut knot of her clitoris, and she dampened against his hand.

He stood again and pressed his whole body into hers. She parted her thighs wider as he angled himself against her inner lips. He didn’t enter her at first, simply sliding along the length of her opening as she bathed him in her wetness and need.

She clutched at the sheets as he lifted his hips and thrust up and into her. Their bodies merged seamlessly as he sank deeper and deeper into her wet warmth. Lance’s hot breath scalded her skin as he pushed into her with endless patience and controlled force. One strong hand held her naked hip. The heel of his other hand pushed into her belly creating delicious pressure in her entire pelvic region. Pressure that rose in waves, clutching at her insides as she moved with and into Lance’s thrusts.

She felt her body tightening around him. Nora bent over the bed, pushed back and took him deeper into her. She wanted all of him she could take, all of him she could get.

Lance thrust faster into her, moving with short sharp jabs that she felt in the pit of her stomach as he grasped her swollen clitoris between his thumb and forefinger and massaged it. It should be like this every night...But this would be the last night.

Now she desired nothing more than release. She tensed as Lance wrapped his arm around her chest and held her so close only their hips moved together. With a hoarse cry and a shudder that wracked her whole body, Nora came hard, her vaginal muscles latching onto Lance still moving inside her.

Spent now, she placed her hands on the bed to hold herself steady as Lance pushed into her. He held her by her hips as he moved with long hard strokes that took him almost completely out of her before plunging back into her again. One more thrust and he climaxed, his hands gripping Nora’s hips with viselike force. She hoped he’d leave bruises on her, bruises on her body to match the one on her heart.

He stayed embedded in her long enough for both of them to catch their breath. Finally he eased out of her and Nora turned to face him. It was done now. It was over. The sun was rising. Their last night together had ended.

She ordered him to shower and he did. She ordered him to get dressed and he did. When she told him to keep the collar, he accepted it with such humble gratitude she had to cover his mouth with her hand to stop him from speaking. If he said one more beautiful thing to her she’d never let him go.

When she ordered him to leave her and not look back...

“I don’t know if I can follow that order,” he said, standing at her door, his hand on the knob.

“You can. You will.”

“I’ll try to find another way,” Lance pledged. “If there’s any way I can come back and still have my daughter, I’ll find it.”

“I know you will,” she said and knew she would never see him again. There was no other way. And even if there was, by the time he found it she would have moved on and so would he. But they cared about each other too much right now to admit the truth that they both knew. “Go get your little lady back. She needs your protection more than I do.”

“Yes, Mistress.” Lance stood a moment on the porch, and it took everything Nora had to keep from crying. “Mistress?”

“What, Sailor?”

“This may sound stupid, but this felt like something. You and me, I mean. Something planned. I’m not the only one who felt like this was destiny, right?”

Nora raised her chin and smiled.

“A wise man once told me that destiny doesn’t always play matchmaker,” she said. “Sometimes it plays other games with us. Sometimes we win the game...”

“Sometimes we lose.”

“You know...I’m not the only one of my kind. There are other Dommes out there. Some of us don’t even charge for our services.”

“Other Mistress Noras? I don’t believe it.”

“I’m the only Mistress Nora I know and the world says ‘thank God’ to that, but...I’m just saying you only have to play their stupid game until you get your kid back. Then you can date again. You can find another one of us. You’re too good of a sub to waste yourself on some boring vanilla who doesn’t know what she has. Any Domme would be honored to have you on her arm, at her feet. You’ll find someone amazing. I know you will.”

“Maybe. Who knows? Destiny might play matchmaker someday. Maybe destiny will get it right next time.”

“I wish...” Nora began and stopped. She knew what she wanted to say. She wanted to say I wish it could be me. But those words would hurt as much to say as they would to hear. She left them safely unsaid, knowing that Lance wasn’t her destiny. She’d already met her destiny and three years ago she’d told her destiny goodbye. She survived it. She would survive this, too.

Lance said nothing more. Nora knew he waited for another kiss, a kiss she couldn’t trust herself to give. So he smiled at her one more time before walking to his car, getting in, and driving off. He left as ordered, and as ordered, he didn’t look back.

“Good boy,” she whispered before correcting herself. “Good man.”

Nora watched him go before she shut the door, locked it and returned to her bed. It took an hour before she could sleep again, and just as she feared, when she woke up, Lance was gone from her life forever. Such was the nature of dreams. They only feel endless in the dream. By dawn they turn to dust.

For a week, Nora went through the motions of life—sleeping, eating, working, and then starting over again the next day. She had her weekly appointment with Judge B., but they didn’t talk about Lance. She spent the night at Kingsley’s, and he mentioned he’d found a new head of security for his clubs. She visited Natasha at her apartment and found the pretty purpled-haired Dominatrix itching to get back to work. The client who had robbed and assaulted her would be charged with everything the DAs could throw at him. He wouldn’t see the light of day for years. Nora suggested Natasha come back to work for Kingsley for the sake of safety in numbers. Natasha admitted it wasn’t a bad idea and promised she would think about it.

The Wednesday of that week Nora drove back to Wakefield and attended daily Mass. She didn’t stay to talk to Søren, she didn’t talk to anyone. She sat in the back, stayed kneeling during Communion, and only smiled at him once as she walked out the door of her old church and back again into her new life.

That night Nora found herself back at The 8th Circle bar.

“Okay, Kool-Aid. I got this. Try me.” Nora sipped at her drink and took a deep breath.

“Are you sure about this, Mistress?” Simone laid her hand on Nora’s thigh and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “I mean really sure about it?”

“I’m so unbelievably sure right now that I’m stuck to the stool. Just ask me. I’ve got this.”

“If you insist. Here we go...How old are you, Mistress Nora?”

“I am thirty years old.”

“And...how much do you weigh?”

Nora took another deep breath. She opened her mouth and then closed it again.

“Maybe I don’t got this.”

“Mistress...” Simone laughed and laid her rainbow-hued head on Nora’s shoulder. “It’s okay. I don’t like telling people how much I weigh, either.”

“I don’t care how much you weigh. I just want to know what the hell kind of chemicals you’re using on your hair. Is that shit even legal? Are you giving yourself a brain tumor?”

“I don’t think so,” Simone sat up and rubbed her head. “I don’t feel any brain tumors. Although I have recently forgotten the last half of the alphabet and my own phone number. Is that a sign of a tumor?”

“Sounds more like Jäger than a tumor. I think you’ll live.”

“Thank God. I have a date tonight.”

“With whom? That big blond guy again?”

Simone shook her head.

“With the most beautiful Dominatrix in the entire Underground. I hope she’ll have me.”

Nora gave the girl the side-eye.

“Most beautiful Dominatrix in the Underground? Fuck that bitch, you’re spending the night with me.”

Simone laughed as Nora put her finger in Simone’s house collar and dragged her off the bar stool.

“Come on, Kool-Aid. Let’s go play a game of hide the dildo.”

“I love that game. No matter who wins, I always win,” Simone said.

Nora led her toward the elevator at the edge of the bar. They’d play a little in the pit tonight to get the girl warmed up before Nora dragged her back to the dungeon and did wonderful terrible things to her all night long.

The elevator rose and Søren stepped out and into the bar.

“Excuse us, sir,” Nora said. “We’ll be needing that elevator.”

“Where are you going with Simone?” He stared down at Nora who only smiled up at him.

“Where am I going? Third base, for starters.”

“She and I did not get to finish our evening together. We were interrupted.” Søren looked down at Nora coldly with a dark gleam in his eyes. She had to fight off a smile. So he’d forgiven her for their little fight on the porch then? Good. They couldn’t play-fight like this when they were actually mad at each other.

“Sorry. Not my fault.” Nora started to brush past him.

“Eleanor...”

“Mistress Nora, we did get interrupted,” Simone said rather sheepishly.

“Thank you, dear,” Søren said and held out his hand to Simone. Simone looked imploringly at Nora.

“You know the rules, Blondie. Call Kingsley,” Nora said to Søren. Simone leaned into Nora and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Make an appointment.”

They two women boarded the elevator and headed down.

“Thank you, Mistress. I’ve been dying to play with you for weeks. You’re so brave. He looked grumpy.”

“Søren doesn’t scare me.”

“You’re my knight in shining armor, Mistress.” Simone gave a playfully melodramatic sigh and laid her head on Nora’s shoulder.

“I knew a knight once,” Nora said as the elevator hit the floor and they stepped out into the darkness. “I’ve got nothing on him.”

The End