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Marissa’s knees buckled as Lance untied her from the cross. The aftershocks of the orgasm he’d finally given her still trembled through her.

He helped her to a nearby sofa where he tugged her into his lap and cradled her to his chest. After a few minutes of basking in the afterglow, she sat up and gave him a shy smile.

“I don’t recall your punishments being that fun.”

He shook his head and scowled. “If you’re not clear on where I stand about your safety and your submission to me, I guess we can tie you up and start over again.”

She shook her head wildly. “No, Sir. Completely unnecessary. I am very clear on your position.”

He grinned and kissed her deeply. “That’s what I thought.”

“Hey, Lance?” she whispered, suddenly feeling nervous.

“What is it, kitten?”

“I love you too.”

His next kiss was tender and sweet.

When he pulled away, she laid a hand against his cheek. “We’re going to make it this time.”

“We are. I’m sorry for the ways I fucked it up the first time.”

She shook her head and pulled him in for another kiss. “You don’t have to take all the blame. It’s in the past. Let’s focus on the future. We have a wonderful life ahead of us.”

When he nodded, she changed the subject.

“Is everything going to be OK here?”

He nodded. “I think so. Forcythe and Jodie are both going to prison. I imagine they’ll both take plea deals to lower their sentences. Nicholas Sutton will likely stand trial again and it’s highly unlikely that he gets the sweet deal he got last time. He’ll spend a long time behind bars.”

“I’m sure that will make Patrick happy. I got the feeling there is no love lost between those two.”

Lance chuckled. “That’s putting it mildly.”

A hand flew to her mouth. “Fuck. I’m such an idiot.”

“What?” He asked, his eyes wide with confusion.

“Sebastian. In the diner. He said Sutton and Sterling won’t pay us. Grant Sterling. He’s in on this too and I think he’s been inside your club.”

Lance furrowed his brow. “What? That’s impossible. Too many people know who he is.”

Marissa shook her head and jumped up. “Do you have a piece of paper?

“Front desk,” he said, nodding to the door.

She jogged naked to through the dungeon and bar until she reached the front desk. Lance followed close behind.

On a piece of scrap paper, she wrote Grant Sterling and started crossing off letters as she wrote them in a different order and handed it to Lance.

“I asked if you knew which member Art Glenstring was and you didn’t. It’s gotta be Grant Sterling. I’m a puzzle solver. Why didn’t I see this until just now?”

He stared at the two names. “Son of a bitch. I need to call the board and brief them.”

Fifteen minutes later, they were back in the dungeon. Lance had briefed everyone he could get ahold of.

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