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Sawyer cracked a smile, McCoy’s playfulness growing on her. “I genuinely don’t know the answer to that. Ask me again in five years. If you’re lucky.”

McCoy laughed, taking another drink of beer. Sawyer studied her, surveying the outfit she’d chosen for the evening. She’d hardly been able to take her eyes off McCoy, loving how the short sleeves of her dress shirt showed off the definition in her arms. Or how the suspenders made her small breasts pop and the black eyeliner stand out. Or how that bowtie, even though it was brick red, made the green in her eyes sparkle like emeralds.

Oh, she recalled McCoy’s outfit well.

“You look good, darling. I especially like the bowtie.”

McCoy preened under Sawyer’s attention, a blush blossoming over her cheeks. She toyed with her thumb ring. “Thank you. So do you. You look incredible. I-I can't stop staring at your collarbones.” McCoy froze, her hand clamping over her mouth. A tense chuckle slipped out. “I can’t believe I just said that.”

“You have a thing for the clavicle, then?” Sawyer almost laughed, glad she’d chosen this top and not the blouse. It had been Bree who suggested it, saying Sawyer’s collarbones were one of her best features.

“I have a thing for you,” McCoy said simply, like it was the easiest thing she’d voiced all day. Sawyer wished she could be so free with her words, but in the past, each one had come with aprice. It would take more than a few meals and conversation for her to trust McCoy with anything relating to her heart.

“So I’ve heard,” she teased just as a beautiful femme approached their booth. Sawyer pulled her shoulders back, eyeing the newcomer and somehow knowing this was Frankie. She had long brown hair with hints of red and blond throughout, a strong, prominent nose, pretty eyes the shade of nutmeg, and curves for days. Sawyer was immediately envious of her full figure. She’d always felt a bit lacking in the chest and hip department.

The strangest urge to protect McCoy hit her, and Sawyer reached across the table to lace their fingers together.God, I feel like I’m claiming her.Probably because that’s exactly what she was doing. Ugh. If Cindy could see her now, she’d be laughing her ass off.

“Hello, you must be Sawyer,” the woman said, setting down the beer she’d been holding in front of McCoy. She glanced between Sawyer and McCoy, noting the way Sawyer’s fingers gripped McCoy’s, before giving Sawyer a small smile. She held out her hand. “I’m Frankie O’Rourke. It’s good to meet you.”

“You as well,” Sawyer said slowly, not missing the way Frankie and McCoy watched each other.

“I was watching you two from the bar,” Frankie continued, only having eyes for McCoy now. Sawyer’s gaze narrowed when the other woman stroked McCoy’s loose strands of hair. “And I understand now. I’m happy for you, pet.”

“Frankie,” McCoy croaked, wrenching her hand from Sawyer’s. She jumped to her feet and threw her arms around Frankie, shocking her and Sawyer both, it seemed, as the other woman stumbled back a step before returning the hug. They held one another for far longer than Sawyer was comfortable with, and the embrace left her with more questions than she hadanswers. Who was Frankie? Her connection with McCoy seemed deeper than a mere ex-lover.

Sawyer was about to clear her throat—loudly—when the two women slowly separated. Both looked misty-eyed, but the biggest surprise of all was hearing McCoy whisper, “Thank you, Mistress.”

Followed by Frankie’s rough reply,“It’s just Frankie now,McCoy.”

“It’s just Frankie now, McCoy.”

Even hours later, after another appetizer and two games of pool, the precise way Frankie had said McCoy’s name clung to Sawyer like a fleece blanket in the dead heat of summer. It chafed her to know she wasn’t the only one using McCoy’s full name.

They were pulling into Sawyer’s driveway hours later when she couldn’t hold back another minute. “Who was Frankie to you?”

The sensor light on the garage came on as McCoy parked and turned off the ignition. She was quiet for so long that Sawyer’s hackles rose. “McCoy, the question wasn’t difficult.”

“Are you familiar with kink or BDSM?”

The response threw Sawyer off guard, and she faltered momentarily. “I … Yes. Some. Just from what Cindy has shared in conversation.”

McCoy watched her, indecision in her gaze. She reached up and unfastened her bowtie, whispering, “Frankie is a Dominant. She was …myDominant.”

Sawyer’s eyebrows shot up, and McCoy rushed on. “I’m what they call a switch. I never wanted to submit to anyone fulltime. Frankie has … relationship hangups and no wish to be a submissive. So we just … worked, I guess. Part-time lovers with intense bedroom scenes.”

“I see.” She didn’t, not really. McCoy’s explanation left a lot to be desired. Sawyer would need to do some research at some point. Incognito so Bree couldn’t stumble upon anything newsworthy. She understood one thing, though. “So, you like being tied up? Gagged? Spanked?” A shiver ran down her spine. “Do you expect the same of me? To be a switch? Because you can zap the fantasy of spanking me right now.”

“Not at all, actually,” McCoy admitted with a faint blush. “Maybe I’m a poor switch. I’ve never done anything more with a lover than the occasional handcuffs and toys. But …” Her blush deepened, and she avoided Sawyer’s gaze. “As a sub, sometimes I crave all of those things you mentioned and more.”

“Is that right?” Hadn’t Sawyer dreamt weeks ago about tying McCoy up? She’d endured basic missionary sex for her entire marriage, and where had that gotten her? What would sex with McCoy be like?

Passionate. Intense. Sexy.

Ugh. She wanted to find out. She wanted nothing more than to throw caution to the wind with McCoy. Sawyer wanted, no,needed, to see what she’d been missing for the last twenty-seven years. The life, thesexshe could have had if only she hadn’t been caught kissing Beth Li in the eleventh grade.

Beside her, McCoy chuckled. She was eyeing her rearview mirror. “Bree’s home.”

Sawyer looked out her window in time to see her daughter pull up in the Rover. Bree noticed them and waved. Sawyer returned the gesture, pushing past her disappointment over the night ending early.Perhaps it’s for the best,she thought. It hadn’t been as if she was seriously thinking about sex after she’dexplicitly told McCoy it was off the table on the first date. Had she?