Her body liked that too, responding with a strong throb.

  “Was that you? That little breath?”

  “Yes.”

  He muttered a curse that sounded reverent. “I want you in your underwear on the bed. If it’s cold, you can get under the covers.”

  She obeyed, leaving her jeans and short sleeved shirt on the side chair as she slid under the blanket and sheet.

  “Tell me when you’re there.”

  “I am.”

  “Put your hand in your panties. Start rubbing yourself. Imagine that I’m sitting by the bed, watching you. Spread your legs out, so I can see better.”

  As she complied, more of those erratic breaths slid from her. When he murmured encouragement, she let all those images crowd back in. He seemed to know it.

  “Tell me what you’re seeing in your head while doing this.”

  “You…watching me. Touching me. Telling me to spread my legs…oh…” A moan caught in her throat.

  “You like it when I tell you what to do. I want you to slide two fingers inside yourself. Slide them in and out of that wetness, real slow. Push the heel of your hand against your clit, and use your thumb to stroke it. Lift your hips into the motion.”

  “Rory…”

  “I’m here with you. I can feel it through my skin, seeing you do this in my head. There’s no way I would ever be mad at you for embracing your pleasure, Daralyn. Not ever. Do you understand?”

  “Yes. Thank you.” Maybe he thought her gratitude was odd, but everything good he made her feel made her want to express it. Tears stabbed her eyes, made her voice shaky. He heard it, his voice becoming more soothing, while not losing an iota of its rough demand.

  “I’m right here. Take your other hand and stroke your stomach, your sides, up to your throat and around, slow. Caress the tops of your breasts and slowly slide your hand into the bra, pushing the cup back with your knuckles so you can grip your breast like I do.”

  “Your hands are so much bigger. I like that, though I know my breasts are small.”

  “They’re beautiful. Perfect and beautiful, just like all of you. Don’t put yourself down, or I’ll make you spank yourself.”

  She choked on a startled chuckle, and she heard the smile in his voice. “Don’t think I won’t. Keep stroking yourself. Touch yourself the way I would. Let me hear you think it out loud. I like how your voice is starting to shake.”

  He'd just given her the go-ahead to follow her imaginings, so she took him through it, how she saw him stroking her breasts, teasing her nipples. Sliding his hands down to cup her buttocks, squeeze as he lifted her to his mouth. He had the most adept mouth, playing over her wet flesh and drawing forth noises that didn’t sound like they came from her, or if they did, from some primal place that connected to a time and a world when humans embraced their animal side.

  “I like that,” he mused, his voice thick. “Chasing you down in the forest, grabbing you around the waist. Or rolling us to the ground in a field of soft grass where I can have you in the sunshine or by moonlight, it doesn’t matter. You’re beautiful in every kind of light. You are the light.”

  “Rory…” Her voice lifted as her fingers pressed deep, the heel of her hand and thumb alternating on that bundle of nerves on the outside.

  “Yeah, baby. I think you should come for your Master. Let him hear how much you miss him.”

  It was the word Master that did it, shoved her fully over the edge. He didn’t use it often, but he’d used it more since Tyler’s party. Ever since realizing how she responded to it, at just the right moment.

  She climaxed around her fingers, feeling the clamp and ripple of those responsive tissues as her body bucked and her thumb rubbed over her clit, absorbing all the spasms. Her legs kicked, her back arched, and cool air touched her nipples as the blanket fell to her waist. She tried to tell him all that even as she came, knowing he’d want to hear her struggle to form words.

  She missed him, missed him so much…

  “Right here with me,” he was saying in that rough tone as she came down. His stream of words filled her. “I’ve got you. You’re all good. I’m so proud of you. I so wish I was with you, too. I’d put my mouth on you, taste that climax you just gave me, rub my face in your scent. I love that smell of you wanting me. First thing I’m going to do when I get back is push you down over whatever solid surface I can find, pull down your panties and taste that scent. Then I’m giving you a spanking for thinking this is something you needed to be sorry for. I might just use my push gloves for it. The leather palms will deliver a nice sting. Understand?”

  “I understand,” she whispered, shivering at the idea. And at everything else coursing through her. She’d seen him wear those gloves for his workouts, the way the leather molded to his palms oddly intriguing. “Rory…”

  She wanted to say it so badly. Three words. It didn’t matter what it attached to, how all the wants and needs that went with it could shred her. But he’d just told her yet another wondrous thing she’d always thought was wrong wasn’t.

  Day by day, experience by experience, he was dismantling the world that had formed her prison for so long. And he never stopped assuring her that whatever that world looked like, he would be there.

  Like Marguerite had said. Though there was a gap between words and belief, she so wanted to believe. Enough that she yearned to form the words, force them past all those fears.

  She could hear someone calling to him, but he shushed them and spoke into the phone. “What, baby?”

  “I’m…glad you’re having fun.”

  “All right.” He paused. “Stop worrying. You’re everything to me. Always.”

  Now the tears did spill forth. “Okay. Thank you. I…I’ll see you when you get back.”

  She disconnected the call.

  “I love you, Rory.”

  It echoed in the room, bounced back and hit her like a slap in the face. Curling up tight on the bed, she covered her head with her arms, hiding from the fallout, the wave of terror that came, even though she’d said it to no one but herself. The horrible blast of foreboding made her stomach heave. But she held fast against it. And eventually it receded.

  She loved him. The feelings scared her. Thrilled her. He’d said he loved her, several times. He didn’t seem to mind that she didn’t say it back, but he understood so many things about her, without her having to give them voice.

  Dr. Taylor kept inserting warnings about that in their conversations, but as long as Rory knew what was going on in her heart, she didn’t know why she had to rip herself apart, trying to pull what was inside out and express those feelings with words. The last time she’d tried had been at Tyler’s party. She’d almost thrown herself blindly into the marsh and attracted the attention of a Dungeon Master. Most damning, she’d worried Rory, Des and Julie.

  She wasn’t obtuse, her word of the week. She knew Dr. Taylor was right, and so was Marguerite. Lately both women’s words came at her so often she felt like she was hearing voices.

  But life was so good now. And she’d worked so hard to get here. So very hard. Didn’t she deserve to just…be for a while?

  When she brushed up against those times where words might be needed and she didn’t have them, the anxiety would set in. And underneath the anxiety was a slumbering dragon that slept far too lightly.

  When it woke, it told her she would fall short and lose it all because she couldn’t hold onto the things that mattered in the ways other people could. When she tried, she kept hitting the wall, and it was just too much, too big.

  Why should she tear herself apart when things were going so well? Rory was happy with her, and his pleasure and approval balanced her world.

  She was standing in bright sunlight by staying away from the shadows. If the clouds came, they would have to come looking for her. She wouldn’t go looking for them.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The day of the reunion, Elaine stopped by the store and suggested Daralyn come to their house to get dressed that night.

  After his mother bustled back to the parking lot, Rory tossed Daralyn an amused look. “You know she’s going to take a million pictures.”

  Daralyn was glad to be going to Elaine’s, though. It minimized the chance she would cut and run. As the week progressed, she’d been getting more and more nervous about the night, making her wonder if she really was as ready for this as she believed she was. But she’d handled Tyler’s party, school, going out on a double date. She had to be ready for this. She was ready for this.

  A few hours later, she was in the upstairs guest room at Elaine and Rory’s house, sitting in a chair in front of a mirror, letting Elaine work on her hair. Earlier, Daralyn had showered in the bathroom she’d once shared with Les and Rory. When she’d come into this room to unzip the garment bag that had held her dress all week, a whole new group of butterflies took off in her chest. Amanda had said it was perfect. She’d sent a picture of it to Les, and Rory’s sister had gushed over it. “Oh God, Daralyn. Rory is going to be blown away.”

  Daralyn worried it was too much. But surely Elaine would have said if it was, when helping her with alterations. Instead, she’d only echoed what Les and Amanda had said. She’d also said she was going to help Daralyn do an upswept hair style that would go well with the formal style of the dress.

  Daralyn had planned to leave it down, since Rory liked it that way, but Elaine insisted he would be pleased. Once Daralyn was dressed, Elaine had joined her to fix it up. Rory’s mother winked as she tucked a hair comb embellished with a small rhinestone dragonfly into Daralyn’s gleaming brown tresses. “Sometimes a man likes taking a woman’s hair down. Don’t tell him I was the one who said it, though. It will traumatize him, his mother knowing things like that.”

  It helped to listen to Elaine, whose flow of words was like a calm, gurgling brook. Daralyn also wore Rory’s heart bracelet on one wrist. Elaine was loaning her a necklace for the night that was so pretty Daralyn had tried to give it back, afraid she’d lose it.

  “Don’t be silly,” Elaine had chided, tapping her arm. “You won’t lose it, and it’s not a terribly expensive necklace. Robert and I didn’t have money to spend on nonsense like that. I loved it for no other reason than he gave it to me, and he put real thought into it. I like swans.”

  The pendant was a silver swan with a Swarovski crystal for its body. It was strung on a black ribbon choker Elaine now tied around Daralyn’s throat. “There. You look amazing, honey. Don’t forget to breathe.”

  The dress was the kind of silver gray that seemed to have a touch of blue to it in certain lights. The bodice was an overlapped design of tiny gathered folds that molded to the upper body, while giving Daralyn’s thin shape more substance. The strapless bra beneath was necessary because the dress was off the shoulder, a decorative wide gray ribbon of fabric looped loosely over her upper arms on either side.

  It was the bareness of her shoulders that made her feel self-conscious, but when she’d been in the dressing room of the store, she’d imagined Rory’s mouth there, his hands. She loved when he touched her shoulders and throat especially.

  The knee-length skirt was light, flowing fabric, a couple layers of it, so there was no need for a slip.

  Elaine glanced at her watch. Despite her amused comment about traumatizing her son, Daralyn thought Elaine’s appearance tonight was a reminder she wasn’t only a mother, but also a woman who’d fallen in love with a man and made a life with him. Her blue evening gown shot with silver sparkles hugged her lush curves, her dark dyed hair in a sweeping style similar to Daralyn’s.

  “Oh, almost forgot.” Elaine clipped a pair of crystal tear drop earrings on Daralyn’s lobes. “There you go. If you ever decide you want to get your ears pierced, we can do that up the road at the mall.”

  “Maybe,” Daralyn said. Her heart thudded up into her throat when they heard Rory’s chair bump into the base of the stairs. His deep voice drifted up to them.

  “Are we going for fashionably late, Mom, or are we skipping this award BS and headed for the Barbecue Pit? It’s kids-eat-free night. They don’t specify that the kids have to be under a certain age, you know.”

  “I believe it’s implied,” Elaine called back, giving Daralyn a smile. “And you’re not getting out of this, Rorik Andrew Wilder. I’m sending Daralyn down now.”

  She squeezed Daralyn’s bare shoulders, beamed at her in the mirror. “You two go ahead and go. Marcus and Thomas are bringing me, so I’ll meet you there.” Her voice softened. “You look so wonderful, honey. Don’t be afraid of anything tonight. You’re surrounded by a whole community of people who care about you.”

  Daralyn wet her lips and gave her a little nod. But when she’d moved toward the door, she stopped and looked back at Elaine, who was giving herself a once over in the mirror.

  Maybe it was because of how many things had been going right lately, but suddenly, a million emotions swamped Daralyn. She was looking at the woman who’d changed her life simply by noticing something no one else had. The words that came to her lips now had to be said.

  “Thank you. For all of it. For everything. For…saving me. There’s nothing…I can’t say it right, but every day, every moment…I’m so grateful…”

  Elaine’s absent look sharpened as she turned around to meet Daralyn’s expression, and registered the shaky note in her voice.

  “I am so…honored that your son loves me,” Daralyn managed, putting every bit of resolve she could find into the words. “And I will do everything I can to be…everything he needs…”

  Elaine’s eyes darkened. “Oh, honey.” She closed the distance between them, clucking gently as she put her arms around Daralyn. “My sweet girl. Even now, you don’t realize how much you’ve given all of us. We love you so very much.”

  She eased back, gave Daralyn a forthright look. “If you and Rory do end up making a life together, he will be a very, very lucky man. And I will not hesitate to let him know that, whenever he needs reminding.”

  From the determined light in her eyes, Daralyn could see Elaine meant every word. “I want to give him so much, give all of you so much…”

  Elaine sobered, touched her face. “I know you do. But I want you to remember that being who you are, living your life with generosity and love in your heart, however you feel that…that’s the only thing I’ll ever ask of you. Don’t you ever think you owe us anything but the respect and love all family should give one another.”

  She gave Daralyn a playful nudge. “Now enough of this. Go show my son how beautiful you are, so he can get tongue-tied, like he was the very first time he realized girls were something he might like.”

  She winked, but she also ushered Daralyn quickly from the room. Daralyn noted the older woman’s eyes were suspiciously wet as she closed the door.

  Daralyn took a shaky breath. She hadn’t meant to get all emotional—or do the same to Elaine—but it had just come to the top, how much of a miracle her life was, compared to what it had once been.

  Yes, she was worried about tonight. But it was as Elaine said. She had people in her life who loved her, would stand by her. It was not something temporary that would disappear if she made a misstep. She would keep saying it to herself, over and over, until she believed it. They had earned that kind of loyalty from her. Their love was transforming her into someone who could finally believe like most people did, that her family—Elaine, Rory, Les, Thomas, all of them—were her family.

  Nothing could take that from her.

  Nothing could take that from her.

  Please, please let nothing take that from me.

  She started down the steps, holding the rail as she went so she didn’t tumble from the heels. Rory was still at the bottom of the stairs, as if he’d been listening for the sound of her descent. So she saw how he took her in inch by inch, gaze lingering as he made his way from her legs, to her waist, the curves of her breasts and bare shoulders, absorbing every detail of the dress and the woman wearing it.

  Daralyn was hyperaware of that regard, but at the sight of him, she had to take a tighter grip on the banister herself. She needed to thank Marcus for browbeating Rory into getting a tailored suit.

  The gray jacket was a lightweight wool fabric that fit and accented his broad shoulders perfectly. His gray striped tie was a bold stroke against the white dress shirt that molded to his chest, coaxing her fingers to touch. The fit of the slacks on his thighs and hips was equally inspiring, but the corsage in a plastic container resting in his lap distracted her from a more thorough perusal. A spray of tiny white roses and baby’s breath.

  “You’ve never been to a prom,” he said, as she lifted her gaze back to his intent brown eyes. “You deserve the full treatment. And you look…incredible.”

  He crooked his finger at her, a clear Master’s command that centered her. The shakiness of her outburst to Elaine melted away. She came to him and he glanced pointedly toward his feet, at the carpet runner. There was no danger to her thigh-high stockings, something she was sure he’d taken into account.

  It wouldn’t matter to her anyway. She didn’t worry about it, or Elaine, or anything at all but what he wanted from her. When she sank to her knees, he reached out and trailed a finger over her bare shoulder, making her shiver, her lips part. Then he cupped the side of her face, pulling her closer to him while also tilting her chin away from him. The position allowed him to rest his mouth on her frantically beating pulse.

  “Later tonight, I’m going to put you on your back and make you touch yourself in that dress. Bring yourself to climax while I watch.”