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Sunlight illuminated the stark sheets and the sheen of white paint coating the walls. The white marble floors accentuated the ethereal glow. So dang bright. She raised a hand over her eyes to shade from the glare.

Not that she minded the monochromy. It was just unexpected. So was Jay.

Her gaze lingered on the wall where he had leaned in the half-light of predawn, watching her while he pleasured himself. The erotic display would forever leave a warm imprint on her desire. He confused her thoughts about what she needed in bed and evoked a reckless hope for healing at his hands.

She didn’t know how to categorize him within the spectrum of her sexual history. Noah, her gentle, benevolent lover, had shown her devotion in patient touching. If her inability to orgasm had vexed him, he never expressed it.

On the other end, the violent blows from Roy had torn her down to such a weakened state, she couldn’t prevent him from taking. He stole orgasm after orgasm until her broken husk was wrung unconscious.

The half dozen Doms she had contractually approved intercourse with were simply therapeutic exercises—training for the possibility of someday having a real physical and emotional relationship.

Jay was a wild and unpredictable variable on the spectrum. He swung from tender to frustrated to caring to desperate. No matter how passionate his reactions—negative or positive—his concern for her remained steadfast.

Succumbing to the lull of sleep while sheltered in his arms had been one of the most gratifying experiences in memory. And this, right after he’d seen how terribly flawed she was. How gut-wrenching he blamed himself for not bringing her to orgasm when the truth was her perversity put them in the fucked up situation.

It proved he valued her. Maybe even loved her. Her response to that was immediate rejection, but her heart tripped over itself in wanting. What if she loved him? She thought about how she felt, bound beneath his solid body, absorbing his deep thrusts, his muscles contracting around her, his fingers bruising her ass. She’d found pleasure in the way he moved, the fire behind his kisses, the feel of him inside her. What if that was enough? Could she let go of her need and conditioning for pain?

A woman with low pain tolerance and a heart tied to another would never survive Roy. Regardless of how safe Jay made her feel, she couldn’t let herself forget she was one misstep away from recapture.

She flexed her sore muscles and rolled over to check the bedside clock. Just after ten. She’d only slept a few hours. Why the hell was Jay up already?

Sitting up, her hand brushed a scrap of white panties that were folded and placed on his pillow. One of the stringed sides tied around a piece of paper, which was rolled like a cigarette. Amusement tickled through her as she slipped it out and uncurled it.

Charlee,

Ain’t gonna lie. You look like a wet dream stretched out in my bed. Our bed. Leaving you this morning fucking sucks. But my errands couldn’t wait.

Your clothes are in the closet. Bathroom’s stocked. So is the kitchen. Explore your new home. If you need something and can’t find it, hunt down Faye.

*6 on the intercom system will connect you to my cell phone. Back around 11:00.

All yours,

J

She traced the closing words.All yours.It was crazy, the ache that sentiment stirred in her. Until that moment, she had never let herself want the kind of commitment he was offering.

He had his pick of the world’s female population. Just thinking about him with another woman forced her nails into her palms. If she weren’t careful, he’d soon have her heart. Shit. He might’ve already stolen it. A susceptibility that could bring far more devastation than Roy could’ve ever inflicted.

55

Charlee showered and readied for the day using more girly stuff than she’d seen since she was sixteen. Warming body wash. Hair products with names she couldn’t pronounce. A fancy razor that looked nothing like the disposable kind she shared with Nathan.

As for all the items she didn’t know what to do with—makeup, bronzers, hair clips, multi-step skin care products, curling irons in various shapes and sizes—she left those in their tidy little drawers.

The closet was even more overwhelming. Not the first time a wardrobe had been selected for her, but Roy had given her gowns and pant suits and dressy things she wasn’t even allowed to look at in her second captivity.

Jay’s closet was crammed with jeans, t-shirts, multi-pocket pants and big leather belts. Casual and sportive. If she had a style and preference, his shopper nailed it. The labels, though, implied price tags she would’ve never been able to afford.

She chose a faded pair of low rise jeans, a whitePlacebot-shirt, the white panties he’d left on his pillow, and a matching bra. Anxious to explore, she opted to let her hair air dry and padded barefoot down the hall. Past the sitting room and through the double doors, she paused in the diamond-shaped foyer. The door to the room next to Jay’s suites opened.

Nathan stepped out, head down, phone at his ear. “We need to let this sit, Crane. He’s our only eyes right now…Yeah…Yeah, she’s good, but fuck, man, this news is going to kill her…No way. I don’t keep shit from her, but with everything going on, I haven’t had a chance to tell her about the spotter…Yeah, all right. Keep me updated.”

News? Spotter? She bit her cheek. He’d tell her when he was ready.

Shutting the door, his gaze snapped up and his lips twitched. “Morning, sweetheart.”

Something was different about him. He still had that stiff Marine posture going on, but he was lighter on his feet. His shoulders were looser, his eyes bluer, brighter.