“I’m not going blindly,” Sandra said gently. “It’s something I’ve given a lot of thought to. I’ve researched endlessly, which was what brought me to The House. I’ve toured the premises. I’ve been there during its busiest times. I know what to expect. And Damon has assured me that, especially for my first visit, I will be very carefully monitored.”

They were interrupted when the waiter brought their entrées, but food was the last thing on the women’s minds now. Their plates sat in front of them untouched as their conversation continued.

“I just wanted to know what it was like for you and Ken,” Sandra said softly.

Again, pain glittered in Karla’s green eyes. She pushed her dark hair behind her ear in an effort to disguise her hesitation, but Sandra didn’t miss it and she wondered what the hell was going on with her friend. She seemed . . . unhappy. And maybe it had been there for a while now, but Sandra had been so self-absorbed that she hadn’t paid attention to the people around her.

“Is there something you aren’t telling us, Karla?” Sandra demanded.

Karla looked at once guilty and then surprised. “No, of course not. And to answer your question, when it’s right, it’s the most wonderful thing in the world. I never regretted giving Ken my complete submission. He always took such wonderful care of me. Cherished me. Protected me with his every breath. I was always his priority. And he was so demanding.”

Sandra frowned because every example had been said in the past tense.

“Is that not the case now?” Sandra asked.

Karla smiled brightly. Too brightly. “Of course it is. I was just saying. And well, perhaps it’s not as perfect as it used to be, but that’s to be expected. Ken has been so busy making his business a success, and when the newness wears off any relationship, it’s easy to fall into a routine. Don’t worry. We’re not divorcing or anything,” she said with a laugh.

But the forced gaiety bothered Sandra. She shoved aside her sense of foreboding to focus on the matter at hand.

“Again, if this is too personal a matter to discuss,” Sandra said. But Karla waved her off and motioned for her to continue. “What kinds of things do you and Ken do? I mean are you into bondage? Pain? Floggings? Or is it a simple matter of you obeying his commands and him calling the shots?”

Sophia looked as though she’d be ill, and she fiddled with her food as if she were trying to block out the conversation. Her face had grown pale, and Sandra began to have second thoughts about bringing this up in front of her. But she hadn’t wanted Sophia not to know. She owed her sister-in-law that much. To let her know she was going to at least try to move on and perhaps become involved, even if temporarily, with another man. It certainly wasn’t something she wanted Sophia to find out by chance. She wanted her to hear it from her.

“I think it’s a matter of what you want,” Karla said quietly. “Yes, we practice all of those things and much more. I am his to do with as he wishes. He knows how far he can go. We’ve been together long enough that he well knows my boundaries. Perhaps better than I know myself. But it’s important in the beginning that you’re very honest with your partner and that you set boundaries. He needs to know exactly what you are and aren’t comfortable with. And you’ll need a safe word until your relationship evolves enough that he knows just how far he can push.”

“I feel like a kid in a toy store,” Sandra said ruefully. “I want to try everything. At least once. I don’t know my boundaries. I won’t know until they’re crossed.”

“Then it’s even more important that you pick the right guy. One who understands that you’re new to the scene. That you want to experiment but that you reserve the right to pull the plug at any moment. And for God’s sake, Sandra don’t agree to go home with a guy until you know him very well. Stay at the club. Do all your experimenting there in a public facility where there’s plenty of security.”

Sandra nodded. She’d already considered that, and no way was she bringing a guy home. To the place she and Clement had lived and loved. It would be the height of disrespect to practice what would have appalled her husband under his own roof. And neither would she agree to go off with some stranger where God only knew what could happen once he had her alone and at his mercy.

It wasn’t that she hadn’t considered all the risks. She had! She’d visited The House more than once. She’d questioned Damon Roche endlessly, and the man had exhibited a huge amount of patience and understanding. But now she was having second thoughts listening to Karla’s warnings.

But no. She’d thought this through. It was all she’d thought about over the last months. And while moving forward with her new life on the three-year anniversary of her husband’s death may seem tacky, for her it was symbolic. She wasn’t backing out now.

She’d positively shivered when Karla had stated that she was her husband’s. That she belonged to him and he could do as he wished. Sandra wanted that. She craved it with a dark need she didn’t even fully understand. It wasn’t that she hadn’t belonged heart and soul to Clement. She had. She’d held no part of herself back from him.

But this need for dominance went deeper than just belonging. She wanted to be . . . owned. Cherished. Utterly adored. All the things her husband had given her but . . . more. She wanted to cross that gray line. Wanted to shatter her boundaries. She wanted to discover what they were and just how far she was willing and wanted to go. How would she know if she never tried?

“You’re going to do it, aren’t you?” Sophia asked quietly. “I can see it in your eyes, Sandra. I know that look. You’re actually going to do this.”

Sandra nodded, feeling a sense of relief at affirming it.

Karla reached across the table to catch Sandra’s other hand and squeezed it until she was holding on to both her friends’ hands.

“Then I wish you luck,” Karla said.

“Hey, don’t you have to go?” Sandra asked, suddenly remembering that Karla had mentioned several days earlier that she and Ken were spending the afternoon together. “Isn’t Ken expecting you? I don’t want to keep you. I just wanted to ask you those questions.”

Again that barely discernible flicker in Karla’s eyes before she dropped her gaze and her hold on Sandra’s hand.

“No,” Karla said lightly. “He had to cancel. An important matter came up at work.”

Sandra grimaced. “Sorry. I know you were looking forward to it. Unfortunately, I do have to run. I need time to prepare for tonight. Though I’ve made up my mind about it, I’m still nervous enough to need time to get ready and talk myself into going through with it.”

Karla smiled. “I’ll expect a report first thing tomorrow, and if I don’t get it, I’m coming over. And if you aren’t home, I’m calling the police!”

Sandra smiled. “Of course I will.”

She rose after placing several bills on the table to cover lunch. Sophia stood too.

“I’ll walk you out,” Sophia said.

Karla shot Sandra a raised brow look and then glanced pointedly at Sophia. Sandra sighed. She knew what was coming. With a wave to Karla, Sandra walked out of the restaurant, Sophia at her side.

When they got to the cars, Sophia put a hand out to Sandra’s arm.

“Sandra, have you really thought this through?” she asked in a pleading tone. “I’m really worried about you. This isn’t like you at all. What would Clement think? Sandra, he’d die if he knew!”

“Sophia, Clement is dead,” Sandra said gently. “We can’t bring him back. God, if I could, I’d do it in a heartbeat. I’d forget everything about my wants or needs if I could have him back. But he’s gone.”

Tears clogged her throat. Tears she’d refused to allow herself to shed today. She’d been determined that this year would be different. That she wouldn’t spend the anniversary of her husband’s death listless and grieving.

Sophia’s eyes were grief stricken. Tears welled up and slid soundlessly down her cheeks. “I miss him so much, Sandra. He was my only family. I still can’t believe he’s gone.”

Sandra enfolded her in a hug, holding her tightly as Sophia’s shoulders shook. “You’re wrong. You have family. You have me. I’m not going anywhere. This doesn’t change things between us. I swear it. But Sophia, I have to pick up and move on with my life. This is killing me. My grief has been slowly killing me, and Clement would hate that. He’d never want me to spend the rest of my life mourning him. He’d be the first person to want me to be happy even if it wasn’t with him.”

Sophia pulled away, wiping hastily at her tears. “I know that. I do. And I want you to be happy, Sandra. But does it have to be this way? You don’t understand what it’s like to be at the mercy of the wrong man. You can’t possibly want to put yourself in a position where you’re helpless under a man’s power. He could hurt you. Abuse you. Believe me, you don’t want that. You could never understand how degrading and powerless that feeling is and I do. And I don’t want that for you. Clement would never want that for you.”

Sandra gently wiped away the rest of Sophia’s tears. “Not all men are like that, Sophia. I know your concerns. I’m not negating what you and Clement went through. I’d never allow that for myself. And look at Karla and Ken. You know what kind of relationship they have. Do you honestly believe Ken would ever harm a hair on her head? He loves her. He adores her. He absolutely respects the gift of her submission. And that’s what I want.”

“But he is hurting her,” Sophia said fiercely. “You had to have seen what I saw today. What we’ve seen for the last while. She’s not happy, Sandra, and I’m worried about her. What if he’s abusing her?”

Sandra blinked, utterly shocked by Sophia’s assertion. Yes, she’d noticed that Karla wasn’t her usual cheerful, sunny self. She’d sensed that something was off about her best friend, but never had she entertained, even for a moment, that Ken was hurting her physically.

“I don’t know exactly what’s going on with Karla and Ken,” Sandra said carefully. “But I do know that there is no way he’s abusing her. Karla would never stand for it. She’s too strong and independent, despite the fact that she gave Ken her submission. Not to mention she’d tell us if he was hurting her. We’re too close of friends. We’d know, Sophia. We’d know.”

“No one ever knew the hell that Clement and I endured,” Sophia said painfully. “We hid it from the world. Our father appeared to others as a doting parent incapable of ever doing us harm. But behind closed doors he was a terrible man.”

“Please don’t worry about me,” Sandra said. “And don’t worry about Karla. I’ll talk to her if it makes you feel better. I know Ken. We all know him. We’ve all been friends for years. There is no way he is abusing her And sweetie, I know you’re not happy with my choice. I don’t expect you to accept it, but I’d like for you to respect it at least.”

“I love you,” Sophia said brokenly. “And I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t at least try to steer you away from the path you seem so determined to take. But if this is really what you want, if it’s what you need and it will make you happy, then I’ll try to respect your choices. I just don’t want to lose you too.”

Sandra hugged her again. “You’re not going to lose me. You’re my sister and my best friend. Clement was not my only tie to you and now that he’s gone it doesn’t mean that our tie is severed. You’re my family, Sophia. I love you.”

Sophia pulled away, a watery smile quivering on her lips. “I’ll expect a report tomorrow just like Karla. I won’t sleep tonight for worrying about you. I just hope you know what it is you’re getting into.”

“So do I,” Sandra murmured. “So do I.”

Derrick parked his car outside The House and sat for a moment, wondering again why he was here tonight. Normally on the anniversary of Clement’s death, he would spend the day—and evening—with Sandra. Not that he didn’t spend plenty of other days with her, but for the first two anniversaries of Clement’s passing, he’d spent the entire day with her. Holding her. Comforting her. Supporting her.

And it was his own personal hell.

It felt wrong to be in love with his best friend’s wife. He’d lived with guilt for the entirety of Clement’s marriage to Sandra. Clement had known. He’d guessed, though Derrick had done his best never to allow his feelings to show. But his best friend was perceptive. He knew him better than anyone else ever had. They weren’t just business partners. They were as close as brothers, though Derrick hadn’t existed in the hell that Clement and Sophia had endured growing up.

No, Derrick’s family was the complete antithesis of Clement’s. If you could call the piece-of-shit bastard who’d fathered Clement's family. Derrick’s parents were still as solidly in love now as they were forty years ago when they’d married. Derrick was one of five siblings, the middle child. Two older brothers. Two younger sisters who were spoiled and protected by their older brothers.

Clement had been befuddled by Derrick’s close-knit family from the moment he’d first met them. He hadn’t known how to react to a normal, well-adjusted family setting. But Derrick’s family had embraced Clement—and Sandra, when Clement had married her. And even Sophia, though she was more reserved and more wary of his large family than Clement was.

Derrick sighed again and got out, walking to the entrance of The House. He wasn’t even interested in any action tonight, but he was restless and on edge. Sandra had occupied his thoughts the entire day. Ever since he’d taken her to the cemetery and had seen the difference in her.

He didn’t know what to make of the abrupt change. She’d walked out of her house in jeans and a T-shirt, looking so young and beautiful that it still made his chest ache to remember the image of her.

And then she’d asked to be left alone at the grave and she’d stayed there, her lips moving as she’d spoken to Clement for a long while. When she’d returned, there was a marked difference in her demeanor. And then that spiel about not needing him. Apologizing to him, for fuck’s sake. Apologizing for being a goddamn burden. For taking up too much of his life and time. Hell, she didn’t even realize she was his life. Or at least he hoped she would be.

He checked in with the man working the door and wandered through the lower levels. The social rooms. The places where people met up, drank good wine, mingled before moving upstairs to the common room or one of the private suites.

There were plenty of beautiful women and no shortage of interested looks thrown his way. It had been a while since he’d come here to work off some steam. Usually after he’d spent time with Sandra, pretending the woman he was with was her. It made him a bastard, but he made certain the woman he was with was taken care of. She had no way of knowing that she was a poor substitute for the one woman he couldn’t have.

Was she finally moving on? She’d talked the talk during the car ride home. She’d been blunt, painfully so, and it had cost her. He’d seen the obvious emotion in her eyes when she’d said that Clement was gone and he wasn’t coming back and she had to move on and accept that. But did she mean it?

He was afraid to hope. And he was afraid of making the wrong move. He couldn’t afford to spoil it all up by pushing her too soon. She viewed him as a friend. She viewed herself as a burden to him. Someone he’d babysat through her grief. Never even realizing that he lived for the moments when he was with her.

Clement had known that his best friend was in love with his wife. He’d known and accepted it. Derrick had been afraid that it would ruin not only their friendship, but their business partnership as well. But Clement had understood. He trusted Derrick never to act on that attraction. And he’d also exacted a promise from him that were anything ever to happen to Clement, Derrick would be there for his wife.

Hell of a note when his best friend entrusted his wife to his care if something happened to him.

Worse was the fact that Clement had exacted that promise mere weeks before he’d been killed in an accident. Almost as if he knew. Had he sensed that something would happen and that his wife would be left a young widow?

At the time, Derrick had brushed off the very serious pledge that Clement had confronted him with.

If anything ever happens to me, man, I want you to promise me. Promise me that you’ll be there for Sandra. I know you love her. If there ever comes a day that I can’t be there for her, I want you to promise me that you’ll take care of her and love her like I do.

The words echoed through his mind. Prophetic? Or just coincidence?

At the time, the promise had just been a painful reminder of all that Clement had and all that Derrick didn’t. Sandra was . . . She was beautiful. Not just physically. She could light up a room by simply walking in. She had a gentle smile that could charm even the hardest heart. And she’d never so much as looked in the direction of another man after she’d met Clement. God knows, there’d been no shortage of men only too willing to seduce another man’s wife. But Sandra acted as though she had no clue of her effect on men. And that made her all the more desirable to Derrick.

After making a quick round of the social rooms, he picked up a glass of wine—Damon Roche served only the best—and headed up the stairs to the common room.

There was the usual eclectic mix of sexcapades occurring in the large, open room. Though there were no actual partitions, the room was sectioned off simply by the participants taking their own spaces for their activities.

A mixture of sounds and smells greeted him as he walked farther into the room. The slap of flesh on flesh. The smack of a whip or a flogger. The sighs, moans and cries of ecstasy. Some of pain. Some of pleasure. The air was thick with the scent of intimacy.

He crossed the room, taking in the occupants, wanting to ensure that Ken and Karla weren’t present tonight. Not that he was a prude by any stretch, but seeing his other best friends getting intimate wasn’t high on his list of priorities. Though he shouldn’t have worried because he hadn’t seen them at The House in months. The few times in the past he had seen them, he’d cut short his own visit, because he would never do anything to make Karla uncomfortable.

She was a very special woman, and Ken was lucky to have such perfection. Submissive. Beautiful. Gifting him with her absolute trust. There was not a more precious gift than a woman who gave her submission to a man.

It was what he wanted for himself, what he’d always sought out in any relationship he’d formed. But for Sandra, he’d deny that part of himself if it was the only way he had a chance at having her. Knowing Clement’s background, Derrick knew with certainty that Clement and Sandra had never delved into that lifestyle.

But then he’d never gone beyond casual intimacy after Sandra. Once she’d come into Clement’s life, a whirlwind, there hadn’t been another woman for Derrick. He sated his needs, made certain his partner’s were met as well and then he moved on, never willing to commit, even though he’d known that Sandra was unattainable. Only now that wasn’t true. She was free. But could she ever love another man as she’d loved Clement?

That was the question of the day. And could Derrick be content with only a part of her heart?

He nodded before he could stop himself. Yes, he’d take any part of her he could get. The question was, when did he make his move?

Today had given him the first ray of hope in three years that Sandra was ready to move past her grief and live her life again. He’d been patient. He’d been whatever she needed him to be. But he wanted to be so much more.

He retreated to the corner of the room, politely declining with a gentle smile a woman who offered to service him. Another night he may have let her, close his eyes and imagine Sandra under his firm but tender grasp. But tonight his thoughts were consumed with Sandra and he couldn’t muster the heart to pretend as he’d done so many other times.

His family thought him a fool for not moving beyond his feelings for Sandra a long time ago. They’d eyed him with sympathy for the last three years. His brothers had even asked him when he was going to act. But he’d known it wasn’t time. Not then. But now?

He couldn’t help the petal of hope that unfurled when he’d been with Sandra earlier today. He’d seen the difference in her eyes and in her demeanor. But then that unnecessary apology for being a burden, and she’d acted as though she were finished being that burden to him.

To hell with that. If she thought he was just going to step aside, she was very wrong.

He stood watching with waning enthusiasm, not even sure what had driven him here tonight. What he wanted was to be with Sandra. Watching a movie and trying to get her mind off her grief, which is what he’d done the last two anniversaries—and plenty of times in between. The day hadn’t gone at all as he’d expected. He’d cleared his calendar, made certain his clients were covered so that he could spend the day with her.

He hadn’t expected her to all but dismiss him after their trip to the cemetery.

His gaze was drawn to the entryway where a couple entered, and he did an immediate double take.

What?

He stared, unable to believe what he was seeing. Sandra had just walked through the doorway, a man he knew from The House at her side, his arm wrapped intimately around her waist, his hand splayed very possessively over her hip, leaving no question of his . . . ownership. Or impending ownership?

She was dressed in a killer black sheath that hugged and outlined every single one of her perfect curves. And she wore a pair of tempting shoes that just begged for a man to get intimate with her. Hit her in those heels until she screamed his name over and over.

Her hair was upswept, a few tendrils floating lazily down her slender neck, drawing attention to the delicateness of her features.

And she looked scared to death.

Derrick was striding across the room before he even realized what he was doing. For that matter, what was she doing? Here! In a goddamn establishment devoted to all manner of immorality.

And the man she was with was a regular at The House. He had a string of submissives, and rarely was he with the same woman twice in a row. And yet here he was with his arm wrapped very possessively around Sandra, lust evident in his eyes.

What on earth did she think she was doing?

He was just a few feet away when Sandra lifted her shocked gaze to his, her mouth falling open in surprise just as mortification seized her features. Panic flickered in her eyes and she took a step away from the man at her side.

The man, Craig, was quick to pull her back, and that infuriated Derrick all the more. He reached for Sandra’s arm, swiftly pulling her into the safety of his side.

“What?” Craig demanded, reaching for Sandra’s other hand.

Derrick immediately inserted himself between Sandra and Craig, shielding her with his body.

“Get away from her,” Derrick barked. “Now.”

Craig’s eyebrows shot up and he stared for a moment before finally putting his hands up in a gesture of surrender. Not typical for a man like Craig. A Dominant who didn’t yield to anyone. But then Derrick was convinced he likely looked like a crazy person about to explode, judging by the wariness in Craig’s gaze. And Craig wouldn’t be wrong about that assumption. Derrick was precariously close to losing his tenuous hold on his control.

“I’ll just go find other company for the evening,” Craig murmured.

“You do that,” Derrick said behind clenched teeth. “And don’t ever make the mistake of coming near her again or I’ll take you apart. We clear?”

“Yeah, man, I got it.”

Craig gave Derrick—and Sandra—a wide berth before continuing into the room.

Derrick turned to see Sandra’s pale, shocked face and swore under his breath. He grabbed her hand and hauled her into the hallway. She still hadn’t uttered a word. Her face was stricken, and she looked so humiliated that Derrick wanted to put his fist through the wall. The last thing he wanted was to embarrass her, but for God's sake. What was he supposed to do when she showed up looking like a woman a man would die to possess? A woman he was dying to possess.

He ushered her down the stairs and down the hallway to the exit as fast as he could without making her trip in those spikes disguised as shoes. He was tempted to throw her over his shoulder and barrel out like a caveman. He managed to temper that particular urge. Barely.

As soon as he had her outside, he turned to her, trying to curb the anger that coiled through his veins.

“Where’s your car?” he clipped out.

“I d-didn’t drive,” she stammered out. “I took a cab.”

Jesus. That was worse. Had she not expected to go home alone tonight? Was she planning to sleep over with whatever guy she hooked up with here? But then how did he know if this was even her first time? For all he knew she could be a regular and maybe she and Craig had hooked up before. Derrick certainly hadn’t been in enough recently to be caught up on the goings-on at the club.

He herded her over to his car and opened the passenger door, ushering her inside.

“Derrick?”

The one word, laced with fear and uncertainty, cut him to the core. Damn it, the last thing he wanted was for her to be afraid of him. He had to calm down before he lost his damn mind. And destroyed any chance he had with her.

“I’m taking you home,” he said in a more gentle tone.

He walked around to the driver’s side and slid in, starting the engine and backing out almost before he had his door closed. He roared down the winding drive that led up to the house and waited impatiently for the gate to open to allow him to exit.

As he accelerated down the highway, he felt Sandra’s nervous gaze flicker toward him. Saw her bite the bottom of her lip as she obviously struggled with what she wanted to say.

He reached for her hand, squeezing it in a reassuring manner.

“We’ll talk when we get home,” he said, his voice a command, one that he hadn’t used with her before.

But it worked. She immediately closed her mouth, though her bottom lip was still between her teeth as she nibbled nervously. Mortification still gripped her features, and it made him ache to know she was suffering. Embarrassed. Likely thinking he was going to tear a strip off her hide. And maybe he was. He wasn’t at all sure what he was going to say to her yet.

They drove the rest of the way in tense silence, her hand firmly trapped in his. He could feel her trembling and it slayed him that she feared him. He’d nip that in the bud just as soon as he got to the bottom of this.

She looked surprised when he pulled into his neighborhood, which was just a few miles from her own subdivision. She turned to look at him, a clear question in her eyes.

“We’ll talk here,” he said shortly as he pulled into his drive.

She went silent again, her head bowed as she stared at her lap. Undone by her defeated demeanor, he reached over and gently cupped her chin, nudging until she was forced to look up at him.

“It’ll be okay, honey. Now come inside so we can talk.”

She nodded and he got out quickly, walking around to collect her from the car. He led her inside his house, satisfaction gripping him that she was in his space. Finally.

Though they’d spent plenty of time together over the last years, it had always been in a neutral location. Or her own home, the one she’d shared with Clement. The last time she’d been in his house was when Clement was still alive, and the couple had been frequent visitors back then.

He curled his arm around Sandra’s waist as he ushered her through the foyer and into the living room. She stiffened but made no move to distance herself from him. She was too busy looking like she was waiting for the anvil to drop from the sky on her head.

When they entered the living room, he loosened his hold and took a step away, dragging a hand raggedly through his hair. Then he turned, not sure how exactly to pose the questions burning his tongue. He only knew one way. Blunt.

“What on earth were you doing in The House tonight, Sandra?” he demanded.

She flinched at the fury in his tone and her eyes became shadowed.

“You have no idea what you’re getting into by being there,” he continued. “No idea at all. Do you have any clue what could happen to you? What Craig would have done to you? Let me tell you. He would have had you bent over while he flogged your pretty backside and then he would have hit you without mercy, uncaring of your pleasure. It would have been all about his own. He would have taken you and used you and wouldn’t have given a damn about you or your pleasure. What were you thinking?”

She wet her lips, her eyes going glossy with tears. The last thing he wanted was to make her cry when she’d made it the entire day, or at least the time she’d spent with him, without shedding a single tear.

“I do understand, Derrick,” she said quietly. “I understand far more than you think.”

His brow furrowed. “Have you been going to The House before tonight?”

She shook her head. “No. This was my first night.”

“Jesus Christ, Sandra? Do you have any idea what might have happened to you if I hadn’t been there? There is no way I’m allowing you to go back to that place. You don’t belong there.”

Her lips quivered and then she seemed to mentally shake herself. She steeled her features and leveled a firm stare at him.

“I know exactly what I was doing. You don’t understand, Derrick. You’d never understand.”

“Try me,” he challenged.

She stared at him a long moment, her eyes uncertain, almost as if she were trying to decide whether to trust him. He was on edge, because damn it, he wanted her to be able to come to him for anything. Anything at all. And he wanted her trust.

Then she closed her eyes and sank onto the couch, sitting forward, her face buried in her hands. Her shoulders shook and it was all he could do not to go to her. Not to comfort and hold her and tell her everything would be all right. But he waited. Because whatever she had to tell him he sensed was huge. And that it would forever change the way he looked at her. At any possibility of them being together.

She lifted her head, her eyes swimming in tears. “I loved Clement with all my heart and soul. He was my soul mate. I know that. And I know I’ll never find that kind of love again.”

Derrick’s breath caught and held because that wasn’t something he wanted to hear. That she’d resigned herself to a loveless existence because she didn’t think another man would ever love her as Clement had. When in fact, he was that man. He already loved her—had loved her forever—and given the opportunity, he’d show her that she damn well could find another man who’d give her his everything.

“Clement gave me everything I could ever possibly want or ask for. Except . . .”

She broke off and looked down again, her shoulders sagging in defeat.

“Except what, Sandra?” Derrick asked softly, puzzled by her statement. He knew damn well Clement would have given her the moon. Anything that was in his power to provide her, he would have done absolutely.

“Dominance,” Sandra whispered.

Derrick’s nape prickled and a curl of . . . hope? quivered through his veins. His pulse raced and he had to calm himself and clarify that he’d heard her correctly. Because there was a whole lot he didn’t understand.

“Dominance?”

She nodded. Then she looked up at him, misery clouding her beautiful eyes. “You know how he grew up. What he endured. How he and Sophia were horribly treated. In the beginning, when we first met, we talked about my . . . need. What I thought I needed and wanted. And he wouldn’t—couldn’t—bring himself to do anything that could possibly be construed as mistreatment. He worried constantly that somehow he would inherit his father’s abusive nature, that it was somehow genetic, and he’d die before ever doing anything to hurt me. As if he would! It was why he was reluctant to have children. He wanted them. God, he wanted them and so did I. It’s my biggest regret that I didn’t have his child, a part of him to live on now that I’ve lost him. But he was so terrified that he’d abuse his own children.”

The last part came out in a sob and Derrick could no longer keep his distance. He crossed the room, sat on the couch next to her and pulled her into his arms. She buried her face in his chest as he ran his hands through her hair.

“Clement would never hurt you or his children,” Derrick said with absolute confidence.

Sandra pulled away, her tear-filled eyes gutting Derrick. “I know that. You know that. But he didn’t. And I couldn’t convince him of that. His father messed him up, Derrick. Him and Sophia both. They never recovered from all he had done to them and it affected them well into their adult life. It still affects Sophia. When I told her what I planned to do, she freaked.”

“I’d like to hear what it was you planned as well, Sandra,” Derrick prompted gently. “What was tonight all about?”

She turned away, clenching her fingers into tight fists. “I know you think I don’t have a clue what I was getting into, Derrick, but I’m not stupid. I didn’t just up and decide to go to The House. It’s something I’ve thought about and researched for months. I talked with Damon Roche a lot. He wanted to make sure I knew what I was getting into and that I wasn’t making a hasty, emotional decision.”

Well, thank God for that. Damon was a solid guy. He may run an establishment that catered to every conceivable kink or fetish, but he took it very seriously and he vetted his members very carefully.

“But it’s like I told you today, Derrick. Clement is gone. He’s not coming back. And I have to pick up and move on. I can’t mourn him the rest of my life. I need . . . I want . . .”

She faltered and Derrick simply waited for her to collect her thoughts because this was huge. He was learning a side to Sandra he never suspected existed. How could he have?

“I have to know if what I think I want and need is true. I have this need inside me, Derrick. It’s an ache, a hole in my soul that’s even larger now that Clement is gone. I loved him too much to ever ask or demand that he give me something he wasn’t capable of. And it sounds like I was unhappy. God, I wasn’t! I loved him, Derrick. I loved him with all my heart and I don’t regret a single thing about our marriage.”

“I know, honey. I know,” Derrick murmured.

“But that need has always been inside me and I can’t even explain it to myself, so how can I make you understand that this isn’t a game? It isn’t me being irrational and looking to fill a void left by Clement’s death. It’s always been there. Always.”

“Try me,” Derrick said simply. “Tell me what it is you want. What you need. I’ll listen, Sandra. And I won’t judge you. I’ll just listen and we can talk about it.”

Relief shone in her eyes. Had she expected condemnation? Had she expected him to accuse her of being disloyal to Clement or his memory?

“I want to be . . . owned.” A shiver stole over her body, one he could feel even with the short space that separated them now. “I want what Ken and Karla have. I want a man to possess me, to own me. I want to submit to him and I want him to take care of me. Protect me. God, it makes me sound like some helpless, dependent twit. But that’s not it. Clement taught me to stand on my own two feet. To be independent. It’s not that I have to have this in order to survive. It’s what I want. My choice.”

Derrick put his finger over her lips to silence her. “Shhh, honey. You don’t have to defend your choices to me. I’m here to listen. Don’t defend. Just tell me what’s going on in that pretty head of yours.”

His heart was about to beat out of his chest. Had fate been kind to him after all? Had a gift he’d never dreamed of receiving suddenly dropped into his lap? Had Clement known—of course he’d known. He knew of Derrick’s preferences. That he was dominant and that he desired submissiveness in a woman. Now the promise that Clement had exacted from him made so much more sense. Clement had known his wife wanted something he himself could never provide her, and he wanted to make sure that if something happened to him that Derrick would step in and give her what Clement had never been able to. God, the sheer selflessness that such a gesture entailed was mind-boggling. He’d been granting his blessing. Jesus.

“This isn’t a decision I made lightly, Derrick. I was okay with it. Until I saw you tonight. I was so mortified. And I felt guilty, because seeing you there made me feel as though I were betraying Clement. I didn’t want you to know. Karla and Sophia knew. I told them. They’re worried about me, but they also know I took all the necessary precautions before just showing up at The House tonight. And I was ready. Or at least I thought I was. But then you were there.”

Her brow suddenly furrowed as if it had just occurred to her that Derrick had been there. He could see the question in her eyes before she ever voiced it.

“What were you doing there, Derrick?”

For a moment he brushed aside her question because there were so many other more important things to discuss. It was all he could do to hold himself back. To temper the urge to brand her. To move in, take her and give her everything she said she wanted—needed.

“I need to know something from you first. I need to know how serious you are about this. I need to know if this is truly what you want and what you need and that it’s not just an experiment or you looking to fill a void.”

“I can’t be any more serious,” she said in a resolved tone that convinced him she was indeed that.

He leaned forward, his breath mingling with hers, their lips so close he could feel the warmth from the inviting bow. Just a fraction of an inch and he would be kissing her.

“I was there because that’s who and what I am, Sandra,” he said, taking in her response, watching every flicker that crossed her eyes. “It’s always been what I am. And let me tell you this right now. If this is what you want. If this is what you need. Then I’m going to be the only damn man you offer your submission to.”

She drew in her breath and held it until she was light-headed and precariously close to toppling over. His lips were so close that she could feel the harsh exhalation of his breath. She could see the determined glitter in his eyes. And for the first time, she became aware of him as something more than a friend. Her husband’s friend. Someone she’d turned to for support many times over the years.

She couldn’t even process his heated declaration, but she knew he was utterly serious. There was a glint in his eyes, a firm set to his jaw. She could see the pulse thudding at his neck and she could smell every part of him, his scent wafting tantalizingly through her nostrils.

Derrick dominant? Not that she had any difficulty in believing that of him. He was a man well accustomed to getting his way. He had a quiet authority about him. He didn’t need to be loud to get his point across. She’d been present too many times when he’d spoken and everyone had immediately quieted, listening to what he had to say.

He wasn’t someone who shouted orders. He didn’t need to. There was an intensity to him that made people aware of the power emanating from him. She hadn’t been blind to it, nor was she immune. As she’d pondered just earlier that day, in the beginning he’d intimidated her. She’d felt his concern and disapproval over how fast her relationship had progressed with Clement. But once he’d become convinced that she was the right woman for his best friend, his loyalty to her was sealed.

But his words still rang in her ears. That brusque vow. She shivered under the intensity of his gaze, those dark eyes eating her up, exposing her, making her feel vulnerable.

“I d-don’t understand,” she said helplessly, her hand lifting and then fluttering downward again as she tried to make sense of the entire evening.

And then his next words tilted her universe even further off its axis.

“I’ve waited a long damn time for you, Sandra. I thought I’d never have you, and I was okay with that because you made Clement happy and I know he made you happy. But as you said, he’s gone now, and I’ve waited. For what seems like an eternity I’ve waited for the right moment. For when you were ready. Maybe I waited too long, or perhaps now is the perfect time. But if you think I’m going to stand by and allow another man to touch what I consider mine, you’re very mistaken.”

She shook her head, overwhelmed by it all. He spoke as if he wanted her. Had wanted her for a long time. But no. That wasn’t possible. He’d never betray his best friend. Had Derrick developed feelings for her after Clement’s death? Was he simply stepping in for his best friend, wanting to take care of Clement’s widow?

She didn’t want to be an obligation to Derrick. She’d been one for far too long. Today had been about letting go. Not only of Clement but of her dependence on Derrick.