The ghost of that memory lingered in the air, though now the space would be haunted by a new presence she didn’t think she’d ever forget: Axel.

He entered the kitchen after her, Heath hot on his heels. God, these two needed to back the hell down and stop arguing. Since they weren’t going to do that all by themselves, she had to put her foot down.

“Are you both on your man period or something?” she challenged.

They glared at her, neither deigning to acknowledge her remark.

“No? Then Heath, will you please give Axel and me a few minutes? If you want to go to bed, I’m sure my aunt left some pillows and blankets on the living room sofa or she made up the guest room upstairs. First door on the left.”

He looked ready to hit something and let out a frustrated breath. “I’ll secure the perimeter.”

Without another word, he let himself out the back door, and it rattled behind him.

Exhaustion weighing down her every limb, Mystery turned to look at Axel. He’d curled one hand into a fist, and to say he seemed tense would be a gross understatement.

Mystery sighed, bracing herself for a battle. Honestly, she wasn’t even sure why he’d come. For her or out of a sense of duty to her father?

She spied the kettle on the stove. Craving a warm cup of tea, she grabbed a box of teabags from the cabinet, then turned to him. “Want some?”

“No, thanks.” He sat in one of the small kitchen chairs, upholstered in vinyl with a leaf-and-grape pattern that had been outdated for twenty years. “Listen, Mystery, I am not sleeping with Sweet Pea.”

“By your own admission, you’ve taken her to bed before, so . . .” The thought of him with the little pixie of a brunette stabbed Mystery’s chest like a machete. She had to stop seeing them together in her head and torturing herself. “You know what? It doesn’t matter.”

“The hell it doesn’t! Will you just listen?”

God, she’d heard her parents have this argument a hundred times when she was a kid. Her father had always denied any wrongdoing and he’d always been full of shit. Mystery wanted to believe Axel, but she didn’t want to be gullible, either. How could she be rational when she was so freaking tired? Still, she loved him and had for years. For that reason alone, she would listen this once. If his speech smelled like BS, she’d figure out how to move on without him.

“Fine. If you weren’t seducing her last night, then what were you doing? She’s a pretty girl. So I doubt you two were playing a rousing game of checkers.”

“We weren’t playing checkers, but we weren’t fucking, either. Our relationship isn’t about that.”

Of course. She was “just a friend” or “just a coworker” or whatever convenient role Axel could fit her into, the way Mystery’s father always had when conning her mother. Now, she faced the stove, determined not to let Axel see her cry. She’d already shed too many tears over him. Her mother had cried too much for her father, and Mystery didn’t want to repeat the pattern. Maybe she should cut her losses now . . . but her stubborn heart didn’t want to give up.

Axel made his way to her, cupping her hips in his big hands and pulling her against him. The feel of his wide, solid chest at her back comforted her against her will. He felt like a safe haven. She felt as if she belonged to him. What was wrong with her?

Pulling a mug from the cabinet, Mystery tried to sniffle quietly, but nothing made it past him.

“Shh, princess. Here’s the truth about me and Misty. That’s her name, by the way. I am not in love with her. I never have been. She’s not in love with me, either.”

At that, Mystery nearly rolled her eyes. Attractive, smart, funny, protective, damn good in bed . . . “You don’t owe me anything, so you don’t have to come up with an excuse. You have a girlfriend. I barged into your life and threw myself at you. I wish you hadn’t taken me up on the stupid offer if you were in a relationship, but it’s done. I won’t be the other woman, so I’d appreciate it if you stopped touching me.”

“You’re not the other woman because Misty is not my girlfriend. She never has been.” Axel wrapped his arms around her waist and held her close.

It was all Mystery could do not to snort. She’d bet Misty didn’t view the situation the way Axel did. In fact, it would probably be news to her that she wasn’t his girlfriend.

“And I’m not going to stop touching you,” he vowed, tugging her away from the stove. “Come here.”

As he pulled her back to the table and tried to settle her on his lap, Mystery balked, jumping to her feet again. “I said I’d listen, but I won’t crawl on your lap like she did. Whatever you have to say, you can do it without your hands or your dick.”

Gritting his teeth, he let her up, then kicked one of the other chairs from under the table. “Then sit. And I want you to fucking listen.”

Mystery started to tell him that he wasn’t the boss of her, but he was used to being in charge in bed . . . and probably out of it, too. A part of her wanted to believe that he wouldn’t bother to talk it out with her if she meant nothing to him beyond a piece of ass. But who knew?

She backed into the chair and crossed her arms over her chest. “What?”

“I’m trying to have a conversation with you, face-to-face, the way adults do. You’re making that damn hard when you’re pouting.”

“Well, excuse the hell out of me for being shocked that you could fuck me twice in the last few hours, then look awfully comfortable with another woman on your lap. Do you know how stupid that made me feel? How manipulated and used?”

“And you didn’t use me when you picked me up in the bar to scratch your itch? By your own admission, you had zero intention of coming clean with me about your identity or talking to me again.”

“We discussed this. I never meant to hurt you. I apologized.”

“But I genuinely listened and tried to see your side of the story. Could you extend me the same courtesy?”

His question pricked her with guilt. He had listened. She just kept butting in and sounding like a jealous shrew. “Fine. I’m all ears. What’s with you two?”

“In a nutshell, without divulging Misty’s secrets. She came to Thorpe’s club a few years ago in a very fragile state. She’d been through a lot. She needed a friend, an ear, a Dominant to give her some boundaries and foundation. In short, she needed someone she could count on. But every once in a while, she craved a man to hold her. Because Misty trusted me most and Thorpe asked me to take her under my wing, I did it.”

Mystery didn’t understand. “So . . . you’re saying you just gave her a pity fuck when she wanted it?”

“What I did for her wasn’t about sex. I love Misty. But like I said, I’m not in love with her.”

“Meaning, you don’t love her enough to be monogamous.” She rolled her eyes. “What kind of semantics is that?”

“You’re making snap decisions based on your past experiences, and none of that has anything to do with me. What you’re thinking is wrong. Misty and I have never had an exclusive relationship. I was her Dominant, not her boyfriend. I made her feel safe by checking her locks, installing a security system for her, helping her pick out a dog, and giving her someone to call at three a.m. if she thought she heard something out of place at her apartment. I gave her an ear whenever nightmares overwhelmed her or whenever some dirtbag hit on her too hard and scared the crap out of her. I gave her a pal when she wanted to see a movie or didn’t want to spend a holiday alone. Just like I gave her a spanking when she was too bottled up to cry and I gave her sex when she was desperate to feel like a ‘normal’ woman. Because it was my role as her Dominant, I gave her whatever she needed. Sometimes that was a firm ‘no’ when she reached for that third cosmo. Sometimes that was a long, slow fuck by the lake. I learned her well and took care of her even better because I cared. I wasn’t attached to anyone else, and I’m happier when I’m needed. It was a win-win for us both.”