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rubbed his hands again, but he wasn’t looking at the door anymore. Now, he was looking straight at her. “Mention that shawl one more time and I’ll take your tunic away. You can do your talking to Master Marshall bare-ass naked.”
    She glared at him. “You wouldn’t.”
    He looked at her.
    He absolutely would, and that look said so.
    She bit back a sharp comment and let the matter of the shawl drop. “I forgot how—”
    “Authoritative?” he supplied.
    “—much of a jerk you can be,” she finished.
    “That’s Master Jerk to you.” He smirked. “And there was a time when you liked that about me.”
    She remembered. She kept her mouth shut about that, too.
    “Tell me,” Jackson said before the silence between them could grow too pronounced. “How are things going between you two?”
    She glared again. “Why would you ask that?”
    “It’s not obvious?”
    “No.” She looked away.
    He chuckled. “You always were a rotten liar. Some things never change.”
    “I never lied to you.”
    “Sure you did.” The smirk became a genuine smile and Jackson leaned in close to her. His voice dropped seductively low. “No,” he purred for her ears alone. “Please, no. I don’t want a spanking. Don’t touch me there, Jackson, please. That hurts.”
    His smile broadened when she blushed and she quickly looked away, unable to hold his gaze. It wasn’t hard to recognize that conversation. She tightened her thighs, squeezing them together as if that alone could stop the low throb that came pulsing to instant life between them. Heat stole up into her face, burning her cheeks from the inside out.
    Grinning, Jackson leaned in closer. “Except that it didn’t hurt, did it, Sara? I seem to recall you came so hard for me, you left my hand drenched in salty-sweet pussy juice. My fingers dripped with it. It coated my cock better than any lubricant and when I shoved into you, baby girl, I sank right in all the way up to my ba—”
    The door to Master Marshall’s door banged open, sending Sara leaping to her feet as if the bench were a stovetop. When Robert came stalking out, Sara moved instinctively to join him, hoping like hell she wasn’t blushing as fiercely as she thought she was. “Robert!”
    He stopped abruptly, jerking back a step and throwing up both hands to ward her away even as she reached for him. For just a second, it looked as if he were going to shove her. Perhaps he only meant to keep her from touching him. Either way, it stopped her cold in the middle of the hallway.
    “Robert?”
    Behind her, Jackson stood up. Robert barely looked at either of them, and for a long time, no one moved.
    “R-Robert?” Sara barely kept from reaching for him again.
    He looked at her then. Fiercely. Angrily. He shook his head. “I can’t,” he said. “I’ve tried. I really have, but you make it so fucking hard. And I just can’t anymore.”
    Stunned, Sara dropped her hand. He…he couldn’t be breaking up with her, could he? Right here, in the middle of a public hallway?
    Robert shook his head once and some of the anger softened, but never fully disappeared. He stepped around her, shook his head again and walked away.
    This was supposed to be the vacation that reunited them as Top and Bottom.
    Sara turned in a slow circle, watching the back of him jog down the stairs to the main floor before disappearing into the Victorian crowd. She couldn’t move. Even after he was gone, she just stood there, staring, unable to believe he would just leave her. Not like this. Surely not.
    A hand touched her elbow.
    “Sara,” Jackson said. Somehow he even managed to sound sympathetic. “I’m sorry.”
    Yeah, sure he was. Pulling out of his grip, feeling almost wooden in a way, she walked into Master Marshall’s office and quickly shut the door before Jackson could follow her.
     
    * * * * *
     
    Jackson sat on the bench in the hallway, elbows braced on his knees, hands folded between them, staring down at the floor