I must have frowned at him, because he kissed my forehead and gave me a small smile. “Subdrop.”

  Subdrop. Of course. If it’d been another submissive telling me what was happening, I’d have known exactly what it was. Experiencing it for myself? Not a freaking clue.

  I took a deep breath and relaxed at how good it felt to fill my lungs. “Ahh, damn. I forgot how rotten it felt. It’s been a long time since I’ve had one this bad.”

  We’d made it to our bedroom, and he placed me in the middle of the bed with care.

  “I was too focused on myself and my own feelings after leaving the club,” he said, pushing some hair out of my eyes. “But you have my entire focus now, and no matter how bad the subdrop gets, I’ll be here with you, helping you through it.”

  As I expected, we did nothing else kinky that night. Nor did we do anything sexual at all. Nathaniel simply held me, and we talked late into the night. Not about anything of any great importance, just the little nothings you only share with the person you’re closest to.

  I don’t even remember falling asleep, but somehow I must have drifted off at some time.

  “I’m going to figure out who Vincent Manne really is,” I announced to Nathaniel the next morning. We’d both slept in ridiculously late, and I felt one hundred times better having spent the night in his embrace. At the moment, we were having coffee in our sitting room, sharing a love seat.

  “I wish you wouldn’t,” he said.

  “Why?”

  “Because I saw how upset you were last night when it happened, and I don’t want you to relive that experience.”

  “And you’re afraid if I do something constructive like track down who the guy is, I’ll be reliving it?”

  He shook his head. “When you say it that way, it doesn’t make as much sense as I thought it did. It’s only…” He sighed. “I hate seeing you upset, and while I understand your need and desire to do this, I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  “You don’t think Vincent is possible of hurting me, do you? Physically, I mean?” I hadn’t given it much thought, but based on his frown, it seemed Nathaniel might think differently.

  He ran his hand through his hair. “I’d like to say no, but I can’t help but think that anyone who would dare openly film someone in a BDSM club is potentially unstable. If that’s the case, who knows what they might be capable of.”

  “I hadn’t thought about it like that,” I confessed.

  “Whatever you do,” he said. “Promise me you’ll be safe.”

  I had to keep my jaw from hitting the floor. “That’s it? Be safe? You’re not going to go all Dom on me and tell me I’m forbidden from looking into him?”

  He gave a half snort. “No. Because if you want to look into it, I wouldn’t want to stop you.”

  I considered his words, running them through my mind before speaking. “Do you think I imagined the camera last night?”

  He placed his coffee on the table by his side and then turned to me, stroking my cheek and slipping his hand into my hair. “I believe you one hundred percent.”

  “You don’t think I was seeing things because we were in the middle of a scene?”

  “Abby,” he said, his eyes on mine. “Over the years, we have played together innumerable times, and not once, in all those many, many times, have you ever seen something that wasn’t there.”

  Chapter 8

  NATHANIEL

  Following that night at the club, I went to work learning everything I could about Vincent Manne. I started with the easily obtainable records anyone with an internet browser could access. When those led me nowhere, I took it a step further and called a fellow Dom and friend, Jeff Parks.

  I knew he wouldn’t do anything illegal, but he had better connections and knew more people who could find the information I needed and get their hands on it in a timely manner.

  Even with all that, I was antsy by the time he called me. He had to have found something, I told myself. If there was nothing to be discovered, wouldn’t that be obvious early on? Wasn’t it indicative of Manne having hidden skeletons somewhere since it was taking so long to discover almost anything?

  “I have to say, Nathaniel,” Jeff started when he called me nine days after I told him what I needed, “this is one interesting character you’ve gotten yourself involved with.”

  “I’d like to say I’m surprised,” I said. “But the truth is the exact opposite. I’d be more surprised if all you could tell me was he was an out-of-work, struggling actor. What did you find?”

  “He wasn’t born a Manne.”

  “I thought it was a peculiar last name, or at least the spelling of it was.”

  “According to the court records I could find, a couple with the last name Mann adopted him. M-A-N-N,” he spelled. “No E. The details of the adoption were sealed, as was the information on his biological parents.”

  I closed my eyes. “Tell me you found it, anyway.”

  “Of course I did,” he said. “Vincent Manne, also known as Vincent Mann, was born to an unwed teenage girl. She never disclosed who the father was, but that didn’t stop the small town busybodies from trying to find out. They may have been successful had she not been killed mere days after the adoption was final.”

  “How was she killed?” I asked, but I wasn’t sure why it mattered.

  “She wrapped her car around a tree. Investigators could never determine if it was intentional or an accident.”

  “Did her death affect Vincent?”

  “Not that I found,” Jeff said. “He was only an infant, and the adoption was finalized before her death. Everything I’ve found indicates a relatively normal childhood. At least, it was normal until he was sixteen.”

  “What happened when he was sixteen?”

  “His parents, the Manns, were killed during a home invasion. Vincent wasn’t in the house at the time. It was a Friday night, and he was camping with a group of guy friends.”

  I couldn’t help but feel bad for him with that knowledge. I was only ten when my parents were killed in a car accident. Yes, he was six years older, but the loss was still a hard one.

  “Did he go into foster care after that?” I’d be forever grateful for my aunt and uncle taking me in and welcoming me into their home as one of their own. I also knew not everyone was as fortunate as I’d been.

  “No,” Jeff said. “He ended up petitioning the court for a decree of emancipation, and his request was granted. That was the same time he changed his name.”

  I gave a low whistle. “He’s been on his own since he was sixteen? What did he do?”

  “He worked a few odd jobs, eventually making his way up the coast by the time he was in his early twenties.”

  “Did he stop anywhere?” I asked because I had an uneasy feeling about where this was headed.

  Jeff confirmed. “He worked at the dining hall at Dartmouth for a good number of years. Isn’t that where you went for undergrad?”

  “Yes,” I said, feeling sick. “What years did he work there?”

  As soon as he told me, I remembered Ellery’s comment that he had a man crush on me.

  “That’s when I was there,” I told Jeff, and then recounted what Ellery said the day she came into my office to apologize.

  Jeff remained quiet for a long moment. So long, at one point, I thought we’d been disconnected.

  “There are two main possibilities, I think,” he said, right when I was about to ask if he was still on the line. “One, everything is a very odd coincidence. Or two, Vincent has been following you for years.”

  Fuck. “Let’s not sugarcoat it,” I said. “Let’s call it what it is. I don’t believe in coincidence. Vincent’s been stalking me. And for who knows how long.”

  “That appears to be the case.” Jeff paused for a second. “Do you want to get a restraining order?”

  “For that piece of shit?” I asked. “No, I’ll handle him.”

  “Might be better for all parties involved for you to get a restraining order. “

  “Maybe,” I said. “But you and I both know that often, those things aren’t worth the paper they’re printed on.” Jeff didn’t comment, so I added, “It’s not that I’m worried about myself. My concern is Vincent becoming so obsessed with me that he becomes a danger to Abby and the kids.”

  “Agreed. Which is why I think the best thing to do is to contact the police and have a restraining order put into place. Not so much for you, but to keep Abby, Elizabeth, and Henry safe.”

  His words echoed in my head for the rest of the day, and the truth was, I knew I needed to inform Abby of what Jeff had found.

  At first, I held off because the kids were around, and I didn’t want to upset them if they overheard. Once they went to bed, I found Abby in the library. She was standing near a bookshelf with her back to me.

  I meant to tell her everything Jeff said.

  I took a few steps toward her, but before I made it to her side, she heard me approach and turned my way. Keeping her eyes on mine, she shrugged her shoulders so the robe she had on slipped off them. I took a step closer, and she untied it, letting it fall to the floor.

  My shock must have registered on my face, because worry flashed across her expression. “Is there anything wrong?” she asked.

  Now, I won’t say I’m a ladies’ man or have an expert knowledge of the fairer sex. But one thing I’m pretty certain of is to never, never say “We need to talk” when your woman has just gotten naked in front of you.

  “Everything’s fine. Nothing that can’t wait.” I ran a finger across one of her nipples, delighting in how it pebbled under my touch. “But remind me to tell you something later.”

  “We can talk now, if you want.” She took my hand and started to one of the room’s many couches.

  “The hell we can.” I grabbed her by the waist and swung her around, trapping her between my body and a wall of books. I took a step forward, pressing my lower body against hers, knowing how much she liked the feel of my clothing on her bare skin. “Do you honestly believe I can concentrate on anything other than your body and all the wicked things I want to do it when you undress in front of me like that?”

  “I just thought —”

  I put my finger to her lips to silence her. “When you surprise me by getting naked like this, the only part of me doing any thinking is my dick. And the only thing it’s thinking about is the quickest way to get balls deep inside you.”

  She laughed.

  “You think I’m joking?” I asked.

  “Maybe.” Her eyes flashed with mischief. “That can’t be all you’re thinking.”

  “Turn around and brace yourself against a shelf. Show me your naked ass.”

  As she moved, I unzipped my pants just enough to free my cock. I slapped her ass once and pressed closer so she could feel both my dick and my pants. “Feel that?” I asked, and she moaned. “I don’t even need to undress fully to make my cock happy.”

  “Make it more than happy.” She wiggled her butt. “Make it ecstatic.”

  “Sultry siren.” I snorted and slapped her backside again. Her moans encouraged me to do it again. And again. And again.

  “Use me,” she pleaded when the skin of her ass had turned from pink to red. “Use me to make your hard dick happy. Please, Nathaniel.”

  Her unexpected dirty talk hardened me to the point it was almost painful. While I’d wanted to make this encounter last, it was obvious neither one of us wanted to delay things much further.

  I placed my hands on top of hers just long enough to whisper in her ear, “Hold on tight, because I’m going to give it to you hard.”

  Satisfied she had braced herself as much as possible, I lined myself up and entered her with one long hard push, causing her to raise to her toes.

  “Fuck,” she whispered.

  “Feet back down flat on the floor,” I said. “I can’t give it to you as hard as I need to if there’s a possibility you’ll lose your balance.”

  She mumbled something under her breath but dropped back to her feet. I said nothing but thrust in again, grabbing her hips to keep her in place when she went back up on her toes.

  “Stay still and take it,” I said. “I won’t say it again. I’ll just pull out and come all over that red ass. Keep your feet on the floor and hold on so I can pound into your sweet pussy as hard as I want.”

  She said something, but it wasn’t in English. I kept my hands on her hips to ensure she didn’t move and started a hard and punishing rhythm.

  “Oh, fuck,” she groaned.

  I grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled her head back. “Feel that big cock driving into your tight pussy?” I pulled out and thrust back in, never relenting. “Fuck, I love how I have to work to get my entire length inside. Love to see you standing there knowing how thick and unyielding it’ll be as I screw you so deep, you fear I’ll split you in half.”

  I felt her tighten around me, a signal she was close. I doubled my efforts. “Fuck yes. Come with my dick buried inside you. Let me feel it.”

  She came almost immediately, and then, in a move that rendered me speechless, she pulled away, dropped to her knees, and nearly swallowed my dick whole as I exploded down her throat.

  Needless to say, Vincent didn’t cross my mind once.

  Chapter 9

  ABBY

  “Nathaniel and the kids aren’t with you this weekend?” Julie asked me on a Saturday about two weeks after Nathaniel and I had fun times in the library.

  I was in Wilmington, Delaware, for a few days because I was hosting a baby shower for Julie at our house. The shower was over, and Julie and I sat the kitchen table, chatting while we waited for Daniel to come and pick up Julie and her gifts. She’d rolled her eyes when she told me. “I told him I was fine and could drive myself. Some things I just decide to go with. He wants to protect me and the baby. It’s hard to argue with that.”

  “They were supposed to come with me,” I said, answering her question. “But about a week ago, Nathaniel’s aunt had a friend give her their tickets for today’s matinee of Wicked. She had four and was going to give them all to us, but I told her I would be here in Delaware. So instead, she’s going with Nathaniel and the kids today.” I’d known when I volunteered to host the shower that it’d be a hectic weekend. Little had I known just how hectic it would be.

  “We could have rescheduled,” Julie said. “I wouldn’t have minded.”

  “I know you wouldn’t have,” I told her. “But the whole ticket thing was so last minute, I didn’t want to mess up everyone’s weekend. Besides,” I said with a smile and a nod toward her not-so-slight baby bump, “the next few weeks are going to be busy, and Baby Covington is going to want to come out before you know it.”

  Julie ran a hand across the expanse of her swollen belly. “That’s so true. It’s scary how time seemed to speed up once I found out I was pregnant. Part of me is sad because I know I’ll miss being pregnant, and I’ll probably only experience it one or two more times. But on the other hand, I’m so ready to meet this little one.”

  “You and Daniel still don’t want to know what you’re having?”

  “Most of the time,” she said with a giggle. “But on the few days I want to know, Daniel’s there to tell me no, and on the few days he wants to know, I’m the one telling him no. Not sure what will happen if we both decide at the same time we want to know. What did you and Nathaniel do?”

  “We found out with both Henry and Elizabeth,” I said. “Nathaniel is not the type to let information that impacts his life go past him.”

  I thought back to the nursery in our Hampton place, and how Nathaniel insisted we do the entire room in pink and white when we found out we were having a girl. Thank goodness he’d hired an interior decorator who had talked him into toning down his choice of color palette.

  “Daniel is like that. I’m not sure why it’s so different with my pregnancy.”

  “I think just about everything is different for a man when his partner’s expecting.”

  My first pregnancy had certainly discombobulated Nathaniel. I thought I’d have to beat him over the head in order to stop him from acting as if I were made of glass.

  And we didn’t even want to get into how Jeff, our friend Dena’s husband, changed. I’m not sure he’d let her touch anything, much less pick it up, if it weighed over five pounds. That’s not even going anywhere near their sex life. Not that I made it a point to ask about such things, but Dena had called me to have Nathaniel talk some sense into “that man.”

  “At least he’s nothing like Jeff,” Julie said, echoing my own thoughts right as the doorbell rang.

  We both walked to the door. I didn’t even look to see who it was. Who else could it be other than Daniel?

  But when I opened the door, the first person I saw was Ellery. She looked horrible. Red- rimmed eyes. Stringy hair. Most upsetting of all was the look of sadness and regret visible in her expression.

  “Ellery?” I asked. “Are you okay?” Stupid question. Of course she wasn’t.

  I’m so sorry, she mouthed.

  “She’s fine. Let us in.”

  Vincent emerged from where he’d been standing, unseen, to step in front of her, his foot keeping me from shutting the door.

  “Who are you? And where’s your husband?” Vincent asked, looking from Julie to me after we stepped inside.

  Only when he spoke did I realize I’d never formally invited either him or Ellery inside. Instead, it was as if I moved via muscle memory. Someone I know comes to the door. I let them inside. I hadn’t considered doing anything else.

  I crossed my arms at his question. “Who do you think you are coming into my house and asking questions? What are you doing here? And make it snappy. I have things to do.”

  “Where’s Nathaniel?” he asked again. “I have a question for him.”