Although she currently didn’t have much of a personal life. As much as she missed Tony, it was almost better he was out of town right now. That way, she didn’t feel guilty sitting up late into the night reading and researching, trying to absorb dry scientific facts and even more arid government-speak as she untangled everything for her articles.

  This sucks.

  In the back of her mind, she tried not to think about their upcoming wedding anniversary. He’d told her he’d do his best to either wrap up the project before then, or take three days off and fly home so they could spend it together.

  Except this was his job. He got paid damn good money for what he did, and if he quit, it wasn’t very likely he could find another job locally that would pay as well.

  Like hell did Shayla want to move.

  At least I have Bagel and Cream.

  The two cats were their babies, and she smiled to herself as she thought about the adorable scene just a couple of days before Tony had flown out, him dozing on their sofa that afternoon with both cats curled up and asleep on him. She’d snapped a picture of it with her phone to look at when she felt lonely.

  The cats had curled up in bed with her every night since Tony had flown out to Denver, which was unusual, since they normally preferred to sleep out on the couch.

  Focus!

  She forced her attention back onto the meeting. A mixture of near-fatal boredom and terror of missing anything vital filled her. Adding to that, she felt like she was way over her head in literally alligator-infested waters.

  But she would do it. The first couple of articles in the series had not only done well on the magazine’s website, but had been tracked directly to a discernible uptick in website subscribers, as well as a slight increase in print subscribers.

  It was a point of professional pride to her that she tough this out.

  * * * *

  Another thing Shayla detested about Tony being in Denver was the two-hour time difference, something hammered home when the meeting finally adjourned a little after five that afternoon and she checked her personal cell on her way out to her car.

  She nearly started crying at his sweet text, but also over the fact that it was three p.m. in Denver, and he’d be hard at work for several more hours, at least.

  She didn’t call or text his work cell unless it was an emergency.

  Her being lonely and feeling sorry for herself was not, in her opinion, an emergency.

  Once she was in her car and the AC was running, she stared at the message again before composing a reply.

  I love and miss You, too, Sir. Meeting just adjourned and heading home.

  She’d been at work earlier that day and they knew she’d leave this meeting and head straight home. There was no reason for her to go back to the office. She had her work cell with her, as well as her laptop. She’d be working on the story tonight anyway.

  In fact her boss, Bill Melling, was harping on her to schedule vacation time she hadn’t taken yet.

  She’d been hoping she could take it with Tony for their anniversary.

  Hmm.

  There was a thought. Maybe she could take a long weekend and surprise him in Denver. She could take her laptop and write while out there while he was working. Not much of a fun trip, but spending a few days sleeping by her husband and Master’s side would go a long way to soothing her loneliness.

  By the time she made it through the afternoon traffic and pulled into their driveway, she was ready for an adult beverage. She grabbed their mail first, sorting through it on her way back up the driveway. After schlepping her stuff inside from the car and dumping it on the couch, she scooped the cat pan and fed Bagel and Cream—who’d met her at the front door with loud meows of disapproval—and then cracked the top on a bottle of craft beer she’d picked up the other day.

  She was going to pull her laptop out and get started when her eyes widened.

  Fuck.

  She turned and stared at the small bookcase in the foyer, where her leather collar and cuffs sat, waiting.

  Forgotten.

  Shit!

  She burst into tears.

  * * * *

  Five minutes later, she’d calmed herself, stripped, and donned her cuffs and collar. It wasn’t like her to forget this part of her daily ritual, either. Even with Tony out of town, it was a true comfort to come home and just…be.

  Follow her routine.

  Except today, she’d blown it.

  And yes, she would own up to it. She’d feel like shit until she told him. Their relationship was built upon trust. Tony had worked damned hard to earn her trust.

  Like hell would she hide what she’d done, even though she damn well knew she’d earn punishment strokes for it.

  She picked up her phone.

  I’m home, Sir. I’m sorry, I forgot to strip and put on my cuffs and collar first thing. I have done it now. Took me about twenty minutes to remember.

  She set her phone aside, the craft beer not tasting a fraction as good as it had before she realized her error.

  It was the principle of the matter. She willingly became not just Tony’s wife, but his slave. She wanted this. Asked for it.

  She knew she’d beat herself up a helluva lot worse over this than any punishment Tony would come up with for her.

  It was nearly nine o’clock when her phone finally rang, and she answered it without looking because it was Tony’s ringtone.

  “Hello, Sir.”

  “Hello, pet. It’s okay. I’ll give that one to you as a freebie.”

  She felt tears pricking at her eyes. “No, I earned punishment.”

  He sighed. “Sweetheart, I know this isn’t easy on you. Considering I still don’t know how long this is going to take, I don’t feel right doing that. But if it’ll make you feel better, we’ll start the list at five. Okay?”

  “Thank you, Sir.” She closed her eyes and envisioned his face. “How’s it going.”

  He grumbled. “Not good,” he said, his voice low. “I’m pretty sure Jim is buying edibles.”

  “Oh, no.”

  “Yeah. I’m really regretting picking him to bring with me.”

  “Are you back at your room now?” She kind of hoped he was, that maybe they could have phone sex.

  “No. I’m still here at the job site. I stepped outside. Waiting on the pizza I ordered to be delivered. Going to be yet another late night.”

  “It’s what, seven there?”

  “Yeah.” He sounded exhausted. “If we’re out of here before midnight, I’ll be shocked.”

  More guilt filled her. “Sorry, Sir.” She had no room to bitch when he was the one working his ass off. At least she was home.

  He gentled his voice. “Sweetheart, please, don’t apologize. I love you, and I miss you, and I don’t want you heaping guilt on yourself that’s not yours to carry. All right?”

  “Yes, Sir.” He knew her damned well.

  “Let me get off here. I see the pizza guy coming. Love you. Have a good night. Text me before you go to sleep.”

  “Yes, Sir. Love you, too.”

  “That’s my good girl. Good night.”

  “Good night, Sir.”

  She stared at the phone, the tears finally coming.

  I will not stress him out by being clingy.

  Will. Not.

  She finished the last two swallows of her beer and carried the empty out to the recycling bin in the garage. She had no reason to bitch when, hell, the spouses of active military sometimes didn’t see them for years at a time, and here she was kvetching about weeks?

  Then she pulled a fresh beer out of the fridge and popped the top on that.

  It’s going to be another long, lonely night.

  Chapter Three

  Fuck this shit.

  While Tony had been in Denver for over five weeks now, his body was still firmly adamant about staying on Florida time.

  Meaning he was lying in bed, wide awake at five a.m. local time on a Tuesday morning, already able to tell he had absolutely no hope of going back to sleep this morning despite not needing to be up for two hours.

  The thought of rubbing one out came to mind, almost immediately followed by the memory of Shayla sounding close to tears when he’d talked to her last night. It was the third time she’d forgotten to put on her collar and cuffs since he’d left, and he didn’t have the heart to remove that as a rule, even though he knew he’d have to give her the punishment she believed she’d earned.

  If he didn’t, she’d feel even worse. He’d given up trying to talk her out of feeling like that. And if he removed the rule, she’d feel like she’d failed him, even though she’d done anything but.

  No, he wouldn’t rub one out. If his pet was stuck alone, he’d suck it up, too. He’d given her permission to masturbate if she wanted to as long as she told him about it later, but so far, she’d only done it during their phone sex sessions.

  Then again, that’s the only time he’d felt like doing it, too.

  He finally sat up, groaning at the various aches and pains he felt from several weeks of non-stop physical work. It wasn’t so much that it was hard—although it was for parts of it because the damn server rack systems were freaking heavy—but it was also repetitive, getting down on his knees under the raised floor to run wires, climbing step-ladders—just…a grind.

  And they weren’t even done yet. Still had to finish the new data center install, then get everything up and running. Troubleshooting. Once that was all on-line, he could begin the process of shutting down, moving, and reinstalling the colo’s servers.

  More troubleshooting.

  And Jim Coughy’s performance was deteriorating by the day. Tony didn’t know how much pot the guy was consuming, but this was fucking ridiculous.

  Fuck my life.

  He dragged himself to his feet and grabbed his work and personal phones as he headed for the bathroom, opting to sit and scroll instead of trying to aim.

  He had a good-morning text from Shayla, but he couldn’t call her yet. She’d be scrambling to get ready for work, and if he called and interrupted her, she’d stop and that’d make her late.

  He’d wait thirty minutes, which would put her in the middle of her morning drive to work and able to talk.

  Okay, so that was a good reason to not go back to sleep.

  He then scrolled through his work e-mail and quickly dumped a lot of what he didn’t need to worry about, forwarded a few, answered a couple more.

  That handled, he opted to take a shower and stand there, letting the hot water beat on his body. Then he made himself a cup of coffee from the room’s crappy-ass coffeemaker and climbed onto the bed to sit up with the TV tuned to an early morning local newscast.

  Note to self, stop and buy a fucking coffeemaker.

  This bullshit was ridiculous. He could buy himself a cheap-ass one and at least have decent coffee.

  Yes, he was spoiled, he’d admit it. One of Shayla’s jobs was making coffee every morning and having his ready for him, bringing it into the bathroom with her on weekday mornings, where they showered together.

  Bringing it to him in bed on weekends.

  He went through his personal e-mail on his phone and paused at one that had been sent late the night before by someone he hadn’t even thought about in over a decade.

  His ex-brother-in-law, Dennis.

  Short, direct, and ominous in its brevity.

  Tony, I know this is out of the blue, but I need you to please call me as soon as you read this, no matter what time it is. 941-555-8192. It’s urgent.

  He still had a few minutes before he could call Shayla. While he hadn’t had any contact with his ex’s family in over ten years, he hadn’t left on bad terms with them. While his ex had driven him crazy, especially toward the end, he really didn’t even harbor much in the way of ill-will for her, especially this far out from the event. She’d wanted kids, he did not. He’d made it clear from the start, and she’d decided to ignore that and try to talk him into it anyway.

  Plus, she’d been vanilla and he’d found himself holding back who he really was, increasingly unhappy and knowing there had to be more to life than he was living.

  Tony punched the phone number into his contacts and then called it.

  It rang twice before he heard a man’s nearly desperate-sounding voice answer. “Hello?”

  “Dennis, it’s Tony Daniels. I just read your e-mail.”

  “Oh, thank you. Look, I’m sorry to contact you like this, but have you heard from Christine?”

  “Your sister?”

  “Yeah.” He sounded choked up. “I mean, I know it’s a long-shot, but I was hoping.”

  A wave of gooseflesh swept over him. “No, I haven’t talked to her since the divorce. What’s wrong?”

  It took Dennis a long moment to answer, and no matter who it was, Tony wouldn’t have wished the desperation or near panic he heard in that man’s voice on anyone’s family. “We think she’s…” He sobbed. “We think she’s going to kill herself.”

  * * * *

  Shayla managed to oversleep because she apparently shut her alarm off instead of hitting snooze. It wasn’t a problem when Tony was home, because he didn’t hit snooze, and she had his coffee to make.

  Without him home, just how much of her own daily routine revolved around her husband had become painfully obvious.

  This was the fifth time she’d done this in the five weeks since he’d left.

  After tapping out a quick good-morning text to Tony, she ran into the kitchen and punched the power button for the coffeemaker before dashing back to the bathroom, both cats loudly following in her wake and demanding their usual morning greeting—and treats—that she gave them in the kitchen while she waited for the coffee to brew.

  “Not today, guys, sorry!” She threw herself into the shower, managed to nick herself on the knee while shaving her legs, and didn’t even bother drying her hair. She towel-dried it and pulled it back with an elastic band.

  Fuck it.

  No make-up, that could go on once she was at work. Wasn’t like she wore a lot anyway.

  By the time she jumped into her Civic, she managed to shave the time deficit down to running only five minutes late, meaning she’d still get to work on time because she always tried to be there at least fifteen minutes early.

  Whew.

  Part of her hoped Tony called her on the way in. He had a few times, when he’d awakened early and couldn’t go back to sleep, but she wouldn’t call him in case he was asleep.

  She’d been in such a hurry she hadn’t had time to hook up her Bluetooth receiver for her phone, either, opting for the local Sarasota rock station. Tony had tried to talk her into buying a new car, but the little Civic was still in great shape and—the best part—paid for. So what if it didn’t have the newest sound system? The ten-dollar receiver he’d hooked up for her meant she could play her phone through the radio.

  She was at a stoplight when one of the station’s morning news breaks came on, and it caught her ear.

  “The Sarasota County Sheriff’s Office is asking for the public’s help in locating a local woman who has been reported as missing and endangered. Christine Marcus Daniels is forty-six, blonde, blue eyes, and was last seen leaving her job at Carter-Reynolds Financing in Sarasota late yesterday afternoon. She drives a red Chevy—”

  She punched the radio’s power button to shut it off when her phone rang, Tony’s custom tone.

  Her day infinitely improved. She answered, thumbing it into speaker mode. “Good morning, Sir.”

  “Good morning, pet.” But he sounded…weird.

  “Are you all right, Sir?”

  “Woke up early and couldn’t go back to sleep. How are you doing?”

  “I was running late and caught up, fortunately.”

  His voice started sounding a little more normal. “Ah. Overslept again?”

  “Yes, Sir. This sucks. And I know,” she quickly added, “it’s not your fault. Sorry. Didn’t mean it to sound like that.”

  “I knew what you meant, pet. You’re right that this sucks.” He sighed. “I’ll try to get us out of there at a decent hour tonight so I can call you before bed. I won’t promise, but I’ll try. I’ll know better later today and will text you if it looks like I can. If we’re at a natural stopping point, it’s easier to resume things the next day.”

  Her heart raced. “Thank you, Sir. I appreciate that.” This day was looking up. Even if they couldn’t talk for long later, the fact that she knew he was trying meant the world to her.

  “I know, sweetheart.” He sighed.

  “Are you sure you’re all right?”

  “Yeah. Not looking forward to today. I need to call work and talk to my boss and see if I can get someone else flown out here.”

  “That bad, huh?”

  “Yeah. Fucking Colorado. Why’d our secondary facility have to be in Colorado? It seems like there’s a damn edibles store on every fricking block.”

  “I’m sorry, Sir.”

  “Not your fault, pet. I should have asked Mike Kennedy to come with me from the start. Technically not his area of expertise, but I know his work ethic, and he would have been helping me kick ass.”

  “Then you’d be able to talk to me around him,” she teased, belatedly hoping he understood she was joking.

  He laughed, much to her relief. “There is that. Him being a friend in common would be nice.”

  She wished she could delay getting to work so she could talk to him longer. “I’m almost to work, Sir.”

  “Okay, pet. Have a good day. I love you.”

  “I love you, too, Sir. You have a good day, too.”

  “Yeah, well, I won’t have any of those until I’m home with you, sweetheart. Talk to you later.”

  He ended the call before she pulled into a parking space, and she was glad she hadn’t had time to put on make-up that morning.

  Otherwise, she’d have raccoon eyes from taking a minute to sit there and cry and feel sorry for herself.

  Chapter Four

  After Tony finished his call with Shayla, he tried to bury himself in work, firing up his laptop and logging into Asher’s system to deal with e-mails and other issues.