Checklist J, K, L

Grif was bouncing in place, occasionally rubbing his arms to keep from getting cold. It might have helped if he’d stopped to put on a shirt. It was cold at night in the hills of Malibu, and unlike inside the club, out here in the parking lot there were no heat lamps raising the ambient air temperature.

After Davina had safe-worded out of the scene, he’d been in shock for a minute or two before he pulled it together enough to put on his pants and race after her. They’d never even come close to her needing to use a safe word, and had done things far more intense than a public blowjob.

This was more than that and you know it. You weren’t just her top, you were her Master. She called you Master.

And it felt so, so good.

He hadn’t seen which way she went when she exited the Sub Rosa Court, so had guessed and gone for the Den. She hadn’t been there, and her bag hadn’t been in her locker. That was his fault for asking someone to move it.

That was when he should have put on a shirt, but instead he raced for the Subs’ Garden, practically skidding to a halt at the gate. Las Palmas may not have many rules for behavior inside the club, but one of them was that Doms, Masters, and Owners were absolutely forbidden from entering the subs’ private space. He’d waited, hoping a sub would be headed in that he could give a message to. When no one came by, he’d instead gone to use the intercom system to page Davina. Normally that was used to summon subs to a particular play space once their top was ready. He’d asked for Davina to meet him at the gate, then raced back so he’d be ready and waiting when she got there.

Half an hour later, she hadn’t appeared. He’d been seriously considering saying fuck it to the rules and busting in when Gabriela, Master Leo’s submissive, arrived at the gate. He’d explained that he needed to see her, that he was worried about her, and begged the other woman to tell Davina he was waiting.

Gabriela returned fifteen minutes later, a line between her brows, and told him Davina was fine, and would not be coming out.

That had knocked him back a step, emotionally if not physically, which had led to his current state—standing bare chested and bare foot in a gravel parking lot at three in the morning, hoping the woman he loved would come out soon.

There that phrase was again. The woman he loved.

The woman he needed to make sure was okay. The woman he would walk across fire for if she only asked it.

He’d hurt her. And he didn’t know how.

She’d used her safe word and walked away, as was her right, but he would be lying to himself if he didn’t acknowledge that a part of him was angry—with her for not communicating. With himself for not sensing that she was at her breaking point.

when he fucked her mouth? They’d done a few double penetration scenes, and

he hadn’t noticed, but she was normally so good about

again, normally she didn’t call

difficult, given how fresh the memory of the way she looked at him was. The way she’d said Master as if it was the

and he opened

Davina.

at the screen. That was a good thing, because she didn’t notice him until she was two meters away, close enough that he could see her face in the lights coming from the trunks of the titular palm trees, each

when she looked up and saw him standing at

normal, that for a moment he

tossed her hair off her shoulder. “No need. I’m fine.

need to

in her bag for

better than

her.

pretending that scene didn’t go

on her face, and now he could see that

She’d been crying.

He’d made her cry.

Grif reached for her.

her hands up, as if warding him off. His heart

steps back, giving her a clear path to her car. If she was scared, the last thing he wanted to do was to make her think he was forcing her to stay. As much as he might

you’re probably right, we need to