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drunk and laughing, I realized I didn’t want
     to go back, even if I could.

6
    ****
    I stirred, the smell of bacon the first thing that loosened sleep’s grip on me. Feisty,
     submissive, and cooks breakfast? She really was perfect.
    I stretched my arms up above my head, smiling when conversation filtered up the stairs.
     Last night after part two of fucking her until we were both spent, we talked. Not
     about D/s, or Delilah James, or her ex, but about television shows. When I found out
     she’d never seen Lost , I decreed we’d rectify that before she—
    “Leaves.” The word was hollow, bitter on my tongue. She was only in Pleasure Point
     for one more day. She would go back to Sacramento and shortly thereafter, I would
     be headed back to San Francisco.
    And then what?
    I rose to my feet, pushing the question away. There was bacon to eat, Lost to watch, and Melissa’s lips to kiss. All the rest would work itself out.
    I pulled a pair of boxers and pants on, marching to the bathroom. I glanced at my
     cell on the counter. A missed call from my assistant, Jessica. Under normal circumstances
     I’d check it without fail, but I was in no hurry to get back to the real world. I
     splashed some water on my face, brushed my teeth. When I stepped back into the bedroom,
     I noticed the volume had gone up exponentially. It wasn’t the television...it was
     two voices, both female. Heated.
    I frowned, pulling on a T-shirt. Definitely yelling.
    When I opened the door and one of the voices sailed up the stairs, my stomach soured.
     It was the voice made of nightmares, drenched in condescension. A voice, a person,
     that had no business in my home.
    Delilah James.
    I rushed down the stairs to put a stop to the yelling match that had my labrador,
     Lola, barking her head off.
    Delilah was near the back door, wearing some sort of spandex number. Her red hair
     fell in tumultuous waves around her face. She had strappy heels on her feet that added
     an extra five inches to her statuesque frame. She towered above Melissa, glaring at
     her like something possessed, but if she expected Melissa to grovel, she was sorely
     disappointed. Melissa was clad in one of my shirts and from the way her body shuddered
     as she gave as good as she got, she didn’t have much else on. Not that it mattered,
     because she sized up Delilah she was about to slaughter her, whether she was rocking
     a T-shirt or armor. When I saw the knife perched precariously close to Melissa on
     the counter. I stormed into the room.
    “What the hell is going on in here?” I thundered.
    The room went quite. Even Lola stopped barking. Delilah gasped with delight and bounded
     over to me, throwing her arms around my neck.
    “Oh, Logan! I’ve –”
    I gently, but firmly, unlocked her fingers. I had a choice word or two to say, to
     yell, but being around Delilah was like walking on a minefield. One wrong move and
     she’d blow us all up.
    “What are you doing here?” I asked, my voice tight as a whip.
    “Oh, me?” She giggled like a schoolgirl, complete with twirling a lock of hair around
     her pinky finger. It wasn’t cute. “I was just in the neighborhood.”
    “I thought all the self-obsessed celebrities hung out in LA,” Melissa snapped.
    I flicked my gazed over to Melissa with a weary sigh. While I appreciated her spunk,
     I gave her a look that said ‘no more’. She rolled her eyes (I’d spank her for that
     later), but she obeyed, walking over to the sink.
    Delilah turned her emerald eyes up at me, a grin devouring half her face. “I’m actually
     staying at the rental right up the street. Small world, huh?”
    I didn’t return the smile. It was a small world, alright. Unbearably so. “Let’s go
     in the living room.”
    “But Misty is making us breakfast!” Delilah pouted.
    “My name is Melissa, for the tenth time,” Melissa growled. “And if you think—”
    “Just give us a second, babe.” My final word caught us all off guard. My