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.

What flabbergasted her more was that Derrick was everything she’d said she wanted, if she was to believe his impassioned statement. Dominant. He liked submissive women. And he wanted to introduce her to the lifestyle. He wanted to possess—to own—her.

“I don’t know what to say,” she said honestly. “I never imagined. I didn’t realize . . .”

“No, I suppose you didn’t,” Derrick murmured. “It’s not something I could just come out and say. But Sandra, you’ve made the first move. Now it’s my turn to make all the others. You’ve laid out what you want. What you need. What you desire. And I’m going to be the man who gives you those things.”

She stared back at him, still utterly overwhelmed by the day, the moment, this. How had so much changed so quickly? Then she shook her head in automatic denial even though a part of her, the part that had gone for so long unfulfilled, screamed at her that this was it. This was what she’d been looking for. But him?

No, they were just friends. He had been her husband’s best friend. How would it look to others? How would her friends, his family, Sophia take the shift from them being friends to becoming lovers? More than lovers. Much more. She couldn’t even fathom just how much more this kind of relationship he proposed entailed. It wouldn’t be a one-night stand. Two people hooking up in the heat of the moment. What Derrick proposed was . . . permanent?

“Stop overanalyzing this, Sandra,” Derrick said in a patient tone. But his jaw was still tight. His eyes still glittered with unshakable resolve. God, was he serious? How could she even question that when every single part of him screamed of his absolute certainty?

And Derrick was not impulsive or remotely flighty. That wasn’t who or what he was. She’d known him long enough to know that his every movement, whether in business or in his personal life, was carefully thought out. But the idea that he’d obviously given them such careful consideration blew her mind.

“But Derrick. We can’t.”

She said it emphatically even as she questioned why they couldn’t. But of course they couldn’t, could they? There was more than just him and her to consider. There were their friends. Sophia. His family. It was all making her head ache with the speed at which her world had been irrevocably altered. She hadn’t experienced such a tailspin since the day she’d learned her husband was gone.

“Why not?” he asked simply, calmly. As if he hadn’t just upended her carefully ordered existence.

Well, but that would be a lie. Her world had been upended on the day Clement had died, and it had never been set to rights. Until now? Was this what she needed to get her life back? To reclaim herself? Was Derrick what she needed or would any man do? Even as she thought it, she knew it wasn’t so. She wouldn’t feel this way—this uncertain—with another man because it wouldn’t be personal. She wouldn’t have feelings she couldn’t sort out for another man.

“What does this mean, Derrick? I don’t understand any of it. You said you’ve waited. What are we talking here? How long have you waited? You act as though you want me—have wanted me. But I had no idea. How could I have? You are—were—my husband’s best friend.”

“Be careful of what you ask, Sandra,” Derrick warned. “You may not be prepared for the answer.”

She blinked, not knowing what to make of that particular statement. Was she blind? Was she a complete idiot for not seeing this before? She mentally went back over all the times Derrick had been with her over the last years. But all she saw was unwavering support. Emotional support. All the times he’d picked up the pieces when she was certain that she’d fallen apart.

But he’d kept her strong. Pushed her when she hadn’t always wanted to be pushed, but he’d never taken her anger or rage personally. It was a wonder he hadn’t walked away from her a long time ago. But if what he suggested was true . . .

Oh dear God. What was she supposed to do? What she wanted was being placed squarely in her lap. But Derrick?

She looked up at him again, this time without the blinders. Without the knowledge that he was untouchable, a friend. Her husband’s best friend. Someone she could never even look at with anything more than the bonds of friendship.

And what she saw took her breath away.

This was a living, breathing, gorgeous specimen of alpha male. The promise of dominance and a whole lot more shone in his dark eyes. She shivered as she took in the way he looked at her. Had he always looked at her as he was looking now? Had she been completely oblivious to the strong current of attraction that arced between them as strongly as any electrical surge?

Her gaze wandered over his face, down his body, took in the broad set of his shoulders, his muscled chest, even the thickness of his muscular thighs. Not an inch of spare flesh to be found on his body.

Then heat consumed her cheeks and she looked away, embarrassed to be caught checking him out in such an obvious manner.

But he wasn’t bothered. Indeed, he looked . . . pleased.

“That’s it, Sandra. See me,” he breathed out. “Finally. See me. Who I am. What I am. And that I want you with my every breath.”

“How long?” she whispered, remembering his admonishment that perhaps she wouldn’t want the answer to her question. But now she had to know. She had to know how long he’d gone unnoticed by her.

“Forever?” he said with a casual shrug. He tried to play it off lightly, but she could see the shadows that suddenly entered his eyes. The . . . pain. And the longing. Oh dear God. It couldn’t be true. It simply couldn’t.

“Forever?” she croaked out. “You mean before . . . When Clement and I were together?”

He gave a clipped nod and all the wind left Sandra in a sudden whoosh, leaving her sagging on the couch. He made a sudden grab for her, steadying her before she could topple sideways.

“I didn’t know,” she murmured faintly.

“Of course not. I didn’t want you to know,” he bit out. “I wouldn’t have laid that on you, Sandra. What could you have done? You were in love with another man. Married to another man. My best friend. You knowing would have solved nothing and would have put a strain on our relationship. On the three of us.”

She raised her gaze to him, haunted, she was sure, because what she had to ask next . . .

“And Clement?” she whispered. “Did he know?”

Derrick hesitated only a moment, as if he were deciding just how blunt to be with her. Then he gave a quick shake of his head, almost as if he were deciding that she should have it all. That maybe he thought she was finally ready to hear what she’d been ignorant of for so long.

“He knew,” Derrick said grimly.

“Oh my God,” Sandra said shakily. “He knew? And you were friends? Derrick, I don’t understand any of this!”

Derrick sighed and then gently pulled her forward until she was nestled into his chest. He laid her head against his shoulder and pecked the top of her hair as one hand glided downward, separating and stroking the tresses that had now tumbled down from the clip that had secured them earlier.

There was so much more in his embrace than the comfort he’d offered for the last three years. She knew it now, but hadn’t known it then. Her entire body was on high alert. Her pulse raced and thudded in her veins. Her mammary glands tingled and the tip beaded and tightened against the dress. She hadn’t worn a bra and she knew that Derrick could feel the imprint of her nips through their clothing.

“Clement understood,” Derrick said in a low voice. “And yes, we were friends and we remained friends because he knew I would never betray him and he knew you would never betray him. He knew that I would never act on my attraction. But yes, he knew. And I think it gave him a measure of comfort to know that if anything ever happened to him I’d step in. That I’d be here and that I’d give you everything you could possibly want or need.”

She pushed off his chest to look him in the eye. “But Derrick, that had to have been . . .”

She trailed off, seeing the fire in his eyes. As if he’d suppressed his need and want for so long and now it was unleashed, vibrant and blazing in his eyes.

“It was hell,” Derrick quietly confirmed. “It was heaven and it was hell. Heaven when I got to spend time with you. When I simply got to look at you or see you smile. It was hell going home at night knowing you were in Clement’s arms and not my own.”

“I didn’t know,” she choked out. “I didn’t know, Derrick!”

His expression gentled and he put his hand up to stroke her cheek, rubbing downward in a tender caress.

“I didn’t want you to know, Sandra. I was in an impossible position and I never wanted that for you. For Clement. I loved you both and I would have never done anything to destroy your marriage or cause trouble. So I waited. But I’m done waiting and you need to know that.”

Her breath caught again at the sincerity emblazoned on his features.

His hand trailed downward until his fingers brushed ever so lightly across her lips. She was tempted to lick them, wanting to taste him on her mouth.

“But now I feel as though I’ve been handed a gift I never dreamed of receiving. I was prepared to deny everything about myself. For you. I never imagined you’d want what it is I can give you. So I would have suppressed that need to dominate. I would have never demanded anything of you that you weren’t prepared to offer freely. But now that I know what you want? Brace yourself, Sandra, because now that I know, I’m not going to hold back any longer. I can give you all that you want and need and so much more. So very much more. You just have to decide whether you trust me to give that to you. And whether you think you can possibly come to care for me as much as I care for you.”

She did lick her lips then. Nervous. Anticipation tingling up her spine. And hope. Slowly unfurling like the petals of a flower at the first brush of spring. Warming in the sunshine after a long winter, waiting to bloom and burst free of constraints.

“I don’t know where to start,” she said honestly. “Tonight . . . It went nothing as I had planned.”

“Thank goodness for that,” Derrick muttered. “God, when I think of what could have happened had I not been there. It’s fate. She’s a fickle and at long last she’s smiled on me.”

“What happens now?” she asked quietly, her gaze never leaving his.

He leaned in, cupping her face with exquisite tenderness and reverence. His lips hovered precariously close to hers, his breath warming her skin. And then he placed his lips on hers.

Heat exploded through her veins, rushing until she could hear the roar in her ears. It was like an electric shock, something so unexpected and yet wonderful. Desire, long dormant, rose like a fury, curling through her womb and spreading outward like a wildfire.

Her skin prickled, chill bumps rising and dancing across her skin until she shivered uncontrollably against him.

He deepened the kiss, swiping his tongue warmly over the seam of her lips until she parted them breathlessly and he swept in, colliding with her tongue. He exclaimed softly against her mouth. She swallowed up the sound, suddenly hungry, so very hungry for more.

Never had she imagined feeling this way again. Of experiencing the intense craving, of having desire grab hold and completely overtake her. She’d been cold, so very cold, for so very long, and now she was warm. Bathed in fire. His heat consumed her. His smell, his taste, the very essence of him. How could she have never known? How could she have never imagined? How could she have never seen him as the desirable, alpha male who was currently driving her senseless?

When he pulled away, his eyes were hooded and flush with answering desire.

“What happens now, Sandra, is that you are mine. At long last, you are mine. And if all you said is true, if what you want and need is my dominance, then be assured. I will possess you. I will own you. And you will never know another man than me.”

He watched the myriad of emotions washing through her eyes. She was so expressive. She’d always been so. It was one of the things he’d enjoyed most about her. One only had to look into her eyes to know her mood. Happiness, sadness, excitement.

Arousal.

The last, he found, was extremely satisfying. Never had she looked at him as she did right at this moment. Triumph surged, even as he tempered his reaction. This wasn’t in the bag. Not by a long shot. Her next words confirmed that for him.

“I need time to think . . . About this—us,” she said in a shaky voice. “This was so unexpected, Derrick. I don’t want to make a hasty decision that I—we—will later regret.”

Her honesty was another thing he’d always admired about her.

“Of course,” he murmured. “There’s no rush.” Even as his mind screamed that there was every need to rush. He didn’t want her to think about it. Didn’t want her talking herself out of it. But he couldn’t blow this. Not when he was so close to getting what he’d wanted for so very long.

“I don’t know how long . . .”

She trailed off, lifting her hand to her temple as if it ached before letting it flutter back down to her lap. He took her hand, rubbing the pad of his thumb over her silky skin. Such slender, delicate fingers. Like the rest of her. He couldn’t get enough of touching her. He’d certainly touched her in the past, but always in the capacity of a friend. Affectionate. Nothing even resembling intimacy. They both knew his touch was intimate now, and it was a thrill he wouldn’t soon get over.

“Take your time, honey. But I want you to promise me something, okay?”

When she didn’t immediately look up, he lifted his free hand and cupped her chin, his touch as delicate as her skin.

“Look at me, Sandra. This is important.”

She lifted her gaze to his, all the turmoil boiling in her gorgeous blue eyes.

“I want you to take as long as you need to think about it—us. But I want you to promise me that you won’t go back to The House. Not without me. Not for any reason. Not until this is decided between you and me, and I hope that, even if you don’t choose me, that you won’t go there on your own. I don’t want to imagine you under another man’s hands. Him touching you everywhere I want to be touching you. Do this for me at least.”

“You’re issuing me an ultimatum,” she said in a low voice. “You want me to promise that if I don’t choose you, I’ll deny what my heart wants. What I need. How is that fair?”

“Love isn’t fair,” he said bluntly, watching the flash of surprise in her eyes, how they widened at his statement.

He didn’t follow up on it. It was certainly too soon to lay that on her, on top of everything else the evening had wrought. She needed time to ponder other matters without him spouting declarations of love that she wouldn’t believe were sincere.

“What I’m asking you for is a chance, Sandra. Choose me. Let me initiate you into the world you want so badly. Give me that at least. If it’s not what you want, if it turns out this isn’t what you need, then we’ll step back and reevaluate. What I want is the opportunity—the exclusive opportunity, if you will. Because I’ve already said that I would have suppressed my need to dominate if that’s the only way I could have you. You knocked me for six when I saw you walk through the door into the common room and my world has been spinning ever since. All I want is a chance, honey. A chance. And I don’t want you going back there. Not without me. Not with anyone else until I’ve had the chance to prove to you that I’m all you need. Is that so wrong of me to ask?”

She stared at him for a long moment before finally and slowly shaking her head.

He leaned forward, brushing a peck across her furrowed brow, trying to relax the lines that had formed under the force of her concentration.

“I’ll give you time, Sandra. All the time you need. But don’t wait too long. You’ve waited this long to act. There’s no need to waste further time when this is something you’ve obviously given a lot of thought to. You know you can trust me. I hope you already do. And that’s a huge step over any other man you would have chosen and a step up from the guy you came into the common room with. Because, honey? I care about you and your pleasure. Craig doesn’t and he wouldn’t. Given the opportunity, I’ll lay the world at your feet. There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do to have you, to possess you. I just need the chance to prove it to you.”

The longing in her eyes was nearly his undoing. His impassioned speech had spoken to the heart of her. Of that he was certain.

“I won’t take long,” she said huskily. “I just need time to think. This is a lot. I mean I had no idea, Derrick. Today was going to be me letting go. Not only of Clement, but of you as well. I felt like I’d been a burden to you for far too long and that it was time for me to stop leaning on you. Time to let you get on with your life. I can’t imagine you’ve had any long-term relationships. Most women wouldn’t appreciate you dropping everything to comfort your best friend’s widow. I thought I was doing you—and myself—a favor by picking up the pieces and standing on my own two feet. And now you want that even more. I can’t wrap my head around it, and as I said, I don’t want to make a snap decision that we’ll both regret. I care about you, Derrick. Very much so. I don’t think I’ve ever properly thanked you for all you’ve done for me.”

“I don’t want your thanks, Sandra. I want you. Simple. Just you. And your submission. But as I said, if it turns out that this isn’t what you want, then it doesn’t have to be that way between us. I’d sacrifice a lot to have you any way I can have you.”

Sorrow filled her eyes. “I don’t want that for you, Derrick. I don’t want you to change for me. I don’t want you to be someone you aren’t. That’s as bad as if I’d expected—demanded—something from Clement I knew he wasn’t willing or able to give. I would have never asked him for that. So I can’t ask you to deny who you are for me.”

He pulled her forward into his arms, his lips finding hers, silencing her. She melted so sweetly into his body that it was all he could do not to sweep her into his arms and carry her to his bed. But he’d waited this long. He’d wait for as long as it took for her to be ready.

“How about you let me decide the sacrifices I make. Didn’t you make sacrifices for Clement? That’s what love is, honey. You wanted and needed something he couldn’t give you, but it didn’t make you love him any less.”

She went still against him and then nestled even farther into his embrace, tucking her head underneath his chin. God, they fit. Like two puzzle pieces. He wrapped both arms around her, anchoring her there, simply enjoying the feel of her in his arms in a way he’d never been able to enjoy before. Because now she knew where he stood, and she was allowing it. She damn well knew he was holding and touching her not out of friendship, but as a man who very much wanted her heart and soul.

“Now about that promise?”

She slowly drew away and looked him in the eye. “I promise, Derrick. Just give me a little time to sort through all of this. It’s been a difficult day for me, and everything I thought was going to be, didn’t turn out the way I expected at all. I need to process this.”

He nodded and started to speak, but she continued on in a rush.

“I don’t want to use you, Derrick. And maybe I was okay with using a stranger. Someone who didn’t mean anything to me. But I won’t use you. Not you. I won’t use you as a crutch or some experiment. You mean too much to me. Your friendship means too much to me.”

He smiled and tenderly stroked a piece of hair from her cheek to behind her ear. “But honey, I don’t mind if you use me. As long as the end result is having you. I’ve used all manner of women over the past few years. I’m not proud of that fact, but it is what it is. They were all a poor substitute for what I couldn’t have at the time. You.”

“You pretended they were me?” she whispered in an astonished tone.

He nodded. “Again, I’m not proud of it. But there it is. I couldn’t have you, so I slaked my hunger and desire for you with other women. And maybe it changes the way you’ll look at me. It’s a chance I have to take. But I won’t lie to you. There have certainly been other women. I thought I was in a position to never have what I most wanted, so I dealt with it.”

“I don’t fault you for being with other women, Derrick. God, how could I? I was married. I would have never expected you to be faithful to a woman who wasn’t even yours!”

“I’m glad,” he said simply. “Because, honey? Once I have you, there’ll never be another woman. And you can take that to the bank.”

Her eyes widened in surprise again. It was as if it had all just sunk in at once. Her eyes dulled and went hazy with shock. Her body trembled and she balled her fingers together to try to hide the fact that they were shaking.

“I want you to stay here tonight, Sandra.”

He held up his hand when the protest formed on her lips. And then he cupped her chin, stroking his thumb down her jawline.

“You’ve been thrown one hell of a curveball. I get that. And I’m not asking you to go to bed with me. Not yet. Not tonight. But stay here in the guest room. I’d feel better if you weren’t alone. I’ll make us breakfast in the morning and then I’ll take you home. And then I’ll give you time. In the morning we’ll set a date. Dinner. Dancing. Whatever pleases you. Then you can give me your answer, and depending on the answer, we’ll go from there.”

She swallowed visibly and he could see the indecision in her eyes. Her weighing her options and trying to absorb the events of the day.

“Stay,” he whispered, angling his head to kiss her again.

She emitted a sweet sigh as his tongue pushed in to taste her all over again. Her lips were addictive. Now that he’d done it for the first time, he knew it would never be enough. He wanted to taste her everywhere. Her mammary glands. He wanted to get between her legs and savor every inch of her feminine flesh. And then he wanted to brand her. Possess her in every conceivable fashion there was to possess a woman. Until she had no doubt as to his ownership. No doubt that he was the last man who’d ever make love to her.

“Stay,” he said again, as he reluctantly ended the kiss and drew away.

She sucked in a breath and then exhaled it in a long wave, her shoulders slumping downward with the action.

“All right,” she conceded. “I’ll stay.”

When she walked into Derrick’s kitchen the next morning, he knew she hadn’t slept well, if at all. But then neither had he. How could he when he was imagining her in the next bedroom? So close and yet a world away. Out of reach. He’d lain in his bed, staring up at the ceiling, alternately thanking and cursing fate.

He was so close. This close to having his heart’s desire, and he kept wondering if this was all some sick joke fate was playing on him. Dangling the proverbial carrot in front of his nose only to cruelly yank it away. What if Sandra backed out? What if she’d acted on impulse and after careful consideration chose to change her mind?

He couldn’t handle it. It had been bad enough before when he’d known he had no chance with her. But now? Now that he’d tasted her lips, had held her in his arms? He couldn’t bear it if he lost her now. Before he even had her once.

Not that once would ever be enough. Not with her. Other women? Once had been all he’d ever wanted. He hadn’t wanted to form relationships even though not doing so was torture in itself. He saw Sandra and Clement. Was tortured by what they had and by knowing he’d never have the same.

Most of the time he sucked it up and dealt. But the nights when he couldn’t, when he was lonely and aching for what could never be, he’d gone to The House. Sated his needs and then went back to his self-induced purgatory.

He hoped that was over. For good. He could only hope. If willing it made it happen, then she’d have already been in his bed. Tied to it so she’d never leave.

Desperate? That didn’t even cover it. Not by a long shot.

He had no pride when it came to Sandra. And he didn’t give one damn.

He poured a cup of her favorite coffee and slid it along the bar as she sat down. She was wearing one of his T-shirts, a fact that made him absurdly happy, and a pair of pajama bottoms she’d had to cinch tight to keep from falling down her hips. Not that he would have minded . . .

“You didn’t sleep, baby,” he said in a gentle tone.

She flinched and closed her eyes, but not before he saw a surge of grief swamp them.

“Please don’t call me that,” she whispered.

“Of course. I didn’t think. I’m sorry,” he said softly.

It was what Clement had always called her.

“There are plenty of other endearments I’ll use for you, honey.”

She opened her eyes and a smile flirted with the corners of her mouth.

“Now, that’s better. Surely it wasn’t that bad of a night?”

But even as he said it, he knew it likely had been. It had been hell for him, and he wasn’t the one who’d been handed a huge shock. And on the anniversary of Clement’s death. He inwardly winced, but then timing wasn’t always his friend. He wasn’t going to not act just because it was the date of his best friend’s death. Fate—and Sandra—had forced his hand.

“It was a lot to take in,” she admitted, bringing the cup to her lips.

She took a sip and then closed her eyes as pleasure washed away the lines of fatigue on her face.

“You spoil me,” she said, lowering the cup.

“No, but I intend to.”

“So last night wasn’t a dream then.”

He leaned over the counter so they were face-to-face, their gazes locked. “It was a dream. My dream. Now all we have to do is make it reality.”

“You make it sound so simple,” she murmured.

“It is. Or it isn’t. It’s what we choose to make it. Me? I’m a straightforward guy, but then you know that already. I’ve waited long enough, so you’ll have to excuse my impatience now that what I want is within reach.”

“How is this supposed to work, Derrick? I spent all night thinking—wondering—what this all means. Before it was surreal. It was in the abstract. Not real and in my face. I fantasized. I wondered. I even conjured up various scenarios. But now that it’s here, right in front of me, I don’t know what to do. What to expect.”

“Why don’t we both eat. We’ll talk over breakfast and I’ll answer any question you want the answer to. But as I warned you last night, if you’re unprepared for the answer, it’s best you don’t ask.”

She nodded. “No, I want the truth. I want the reality. I need to know what this means. What me being with you means.”

He reached over to squeeze her hand. “Head over to the breakfast nook. I’ll grab our plates and meet you there.”

He watched as she shuffled the short distance, holding the mug of coffee between her palms as if trying to infuse her entire body with its warmth. He’d much rather wrap himself around her. He’d give her all the warmth she needed and so much more.