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thrust into my hands.
    After I handed the cell phone
back to him, he rolled toward me, pulling me against his body, his erection
already there, hard, pressing against my stomach. There was that familiar, and
oh-so-welcome, thud deep inside of me in response. I moved closer, my hand
sliding down between us, my fingers wrapping around his thick shaft.
    “You’re turning me into a bad
girl, Chase.” I whispered my words over the top of his head. He was already
kissing my breasts, his fingers playing with my nipples.
    He looked up at me, his face just
visible in the dim light. I thought he was probably smiling.
    “No. I think you’ve been a closet
bad girl all along. I just opened the door.”
     
    ***
     
    It
was sometime Friday night when I got back to my own apartment. I’d at least had
the presence of mind to leave a very large bowl of food for the cat, but he was
clingy and needy for the first hour I was home. He followed me everywhere, even
to the bathroom when I took my ritual Sunday evening bath, two days early.
    I
stayed in the bath a long, long time, adding more hot water. My muscles were
sore; there were fingerprint bruises on my arms and the backs of my thighs. It
made me wonder, now that I was away from Chase, exactly what I had been doing
and why.
    The what was easy. I’d been having mind-blowing sex, wild and passionate, with an
unpredictable man who lit a fire inside of me. That sent me out of control,
made my body not only sing, but scream with pleasure. I’d never come away from
being with any man feeling as desirable and alive as I did with Chase.
    The why was a bit more complicated. I guess, in simplest terms, because I could. He
excited me and I apparently excited him. We got along well; we enjoyed each
other’s company, in and out of bed. We had kick ass sex.
    But
every so often the little voice in my head spoke up, reminding me of Jake. And
I felt bad, guilty, torn…disloyal.
    Jake
is important to me, but he’s not my boyfriend. We don’t have that kind of
relationship. That he loves me is his responsibility, not mine; he knows that
and so do I. I’m still abiding by the original rules of engagement for our
relationship. No strings attached. I don’t want to intentionally hurt Jake; I
do care for him. But I do get to live my own life.
    Chase
is important, or I’d like Chase to be important, but in a different way. I
could have a relationship with Chase. All possibilities are on the table right
now with Chase, including being his submissive.
    I
thought about that as I added more hot water to the bath. What would it be
like, having Chase as my Dom? Would we have scenes at the club? Or his house?
Both?
    I
shook my head. This is how you get in trouble with men, Abby. Back off.
    Eventually
the water got cold and I drained the bath. I wrapped up in a big terry bathroom
and slouched around the apartment, thinking vaguely about dinner. Chase had fed
me lunch before I left but it was late now and I was hungry.
    I was
rummaging around in my empty refrigerator when the phone rang. The caller ID
wasn’t one I recognized.
    “Hi, Abby.”
    Jake’s
voice surprised me, caused my heart to thud, made my palms sweaty. And made me
very happy.
    “Jake!
Where are you? Are you home?”
    “No,
not yet. Still on the road. Seattle, Washington, to be exact. I’m just calling
from the hotel to see how you are. I’ve missed you.”
    It
was so good to hear Jake’s voice, to have him tell me about the meetings he
had, all those little details of his day. We talked for a long time, about
nothing really, me omitting where I’d been for the last two days, and with
whom.
    When
I hung up I had a nagging voice in my mind, that I was somehow betraying Jake
by being with Chase.
    But
another voice, Chase’s voice, was there; telling me Jake had secrets, secrets
with the potential to hurt me. It made whatever this was all the more
confusing.
     
    ***
     
    Chase
called late Sunday night from the club. I almost missed the