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He reared back for another hit and glimpsed her out of the corner of his eye. She curled against the door with her eyes closed. Oh, Charlee.

He shoved his hands beneath her thighs and back and dragged her into his lap.

Her arms hugged her belly and her face lowered to his neck. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“Youdidn’t, Charlee.Hedid.”

She burrowed her shoulder into the curve of his and pressed her lips to his throat. “My instinct is to bury it all, but I know how damaging that is.” She leaned back, narrowed her eyes at him. “So I’ve disciplined myself to keep it exposed…with Nathan anyway, since I can’t talk about it with anyone else. I guess I just unloaded on you.”

He wanted to be her confidant, not hero-fucking-Nathan. The urge to demand that from her tensed his muscles and tangled in his throat. “Does it help? To keep it on the surface?”

“Sometimes.”

He envied her. She was incredible. If he freed his shadows from their hiding places in his mind, they would devour him.

“I have other…therapies.”

“Tell me.”

A deep breath. “Are you familiar with the fetish communities?”

Fetish? Like leather crops and ball gags? He wasn’t aware of wearing a meaningful expression, but it incited her to lean away and look out the window.

“Shouldn’t Nathan be radioing in by now?” She chewed on a nail and tapped her boot. Her eyes fixated on a car parked across the way, but they were unfocused, lost in her head.

He gathered her closer in his arms, cradling her small frame with his thighs. It was an impregnable feeling, like hugging his Martin hollow body guitar, only this sensation was fuller, warmer, and to his surprise, more complete. She was meant to be there. “Their perimeter preparations take thirty to forty minutes. They usually arrive ahead of me to do it.” He raised her chin with his knuckle. “Tell me about the fetish thing.”

She glanced at the dents in the seatback in front of them. “Promise me you’ll let me finish what I have to say before you react.”

A swell of adrenaline surged through his veins. Fuck, this was going to piss him off. “I promise.”

She reached up, careful not to let her fingers brush his face, and removed his sunglasses. “And no more fists. Got it?”

He nodded, unsure.

“I hire professional—”

Knuckles rapped on the window and the door opened. Tony ducked her head in. “We’re ready.”

A shout seethed in his throat. He drew it into his lungs with a deep inhale and leveled his voice. “Wait outside.”

“Yes, Mr. Mayard.” She shut the door.

Charlee bent forward to move off his lap, and he stopped her with an arm across her waist. “We’re not done.”

A frown wrinkled the sweet little spot below her lips. “We should—”

“They’ll wait. You hire professional…”

She slumped against him with a sigh. “Dominants.” She raised her eyes, holding his captive. “I pay experienced BDSM players for sessions in private and rented dungeons.”

His heart rammed against his ribs.Let me finish what I have to say before you react.

He had a damn good idea what dungeons were, but he wanted to be very clear what they meant to her. “What happens inyoursessions?”

“I pre-negotiate the boundaries each time.”

His face heated and his breathing sped up. “And those are?”