It had been almost two weeks since he'd picked Emily up from the airport and their fateful date the following night. Jackson couldn't keep from smiling as he thought about the gleam in her eyes, the defiance on her face when he took the cuffs off her wrists and ankles and told her she was free to go. She'd been wet, willing and ready to be punished and he chuckled at the memory of her shock when he said not punishing her was her punishment.

He got out of the Jeep and looked back at the mountain range speckled with verdant new leafs glistening with the setting sun. He'd thought Emily would be in touch with him within days of him having Cliff drive her back to her parent's house but, surprisingly, she'd made no contact. I'll give her a few more days then call her. There's no way she's going to walk away from this...not after all these years, he thought, opening the bar door and walking inside.

His friend, Buck, was sitting at the bar and nodded to him. When he was seated, Buck put an arm over his shoulder and leaned in almost whispering, "So, you remember your old flame?"

"Which one?"

"Don't give me which one! How many times did you and Emily Masterson almost get it on?"

Jackson blushed. If you only knew... "Bro, I have no idea. You know, we always had this attraction and—"

"And she's sitting right over there in that group of snooty bitches from high school. You're older...probably don't remember a lot of 'em." Buck said, motioning with the beer in his right hand. "She's here! You have another chance. I overheard she's single...no longer with the douche. It's been how many years? And this is the first time you're both foot loose and fancy free."

Jackson glanced over his shoulder to a long table in front of the stage and felt a tingle of apprehension. Women...they talk about everything, particularly men and sex. He turned to Buck. "Over twelve years. I have a little problem here...picked her up from the airport when she flew in. We had a date...sort of. I pulled something really shitty. It was kind of like payback for all the times she'd rejected me." He wasn't about to tell him about the BDSM. That was between Emily and him.

Buck removed his arm and his eyes lit up. "Oh, damn, tell me please. I remember that one time you were about to do it and she got all guilty feeling because she was still married to that philandering asshole, even though they weren't living in the same state. Hell fire! She actually kicked you out of her bed and I had to come pick you up. Oh, I hope you got her back good."

So good I'm starting to feel like the asshole now, Jackson thought as his friend ordered two shots of tequila and two beers. Suddenly, he felt her, her eyes shooting daggers into his back. He picked up his drink, swiveled on the barstool, locked green eyes with her gray ones, lifted his glass in a toast and mouthed, "Salud".

It was obvious she'd been drinking for a while. She gave that funny grin of hers, nodded, lifted her glass and mouthed, "Fuck you". The women at her table stopped gabbing and turned to see who she was toasting. He turned back to the bar, downed the shot, ordered another one, took a swig of beer and turned to Buck who was chuckling so hard he was about to choke. "Oh, this is going to be fun. Turn around...now! Look at Emily."

Jackson turned in time to see her chug her beer, smack it down on the table, reach up, pull the clip from her hair and let it tumble in a tousled mass of copper curls around her shoulders. He knew the look. She was in warrior princess mode and before the night was over, she was going to go in for the kill. But it didn't matter. She was mesmerizing and tantalizing all at the same time and he didn't want to take his eyes off of her.

Buck tapped his shoulder and he swiveled back. His friend's face was now serious as he asked, "You're in love with her, aren't you?"

The question made his stomach knot. The idea terrified him. But all these years, he'd thought about and stayed close to Emily fucking Masterson. They'd stayed real friends. There had been women, but he'd never been in love with them and sometimes when he was with them, his mind would wander to the little redhead with the spitfire temperament and stubbornness of a mule. He'd made the money because of her. He'd built the house and the playroom because of her. He'd become intrigued with BDSM because of her and knowing someday the most important thing in his life would be to please her.

No way am I in love with Emily, he told himself, shaking his head. He finished his shot, ordered another then looked his friend in the eyes. "It's the challenge, Buck. That's all it is or ever will be...a beautiful challenge." His friend nodded his head, but Jackson knew he didn't believe him. He wasn't sure if he believed himself.

"Well, that beautiful challenge has just ordered a round of Red Headed Slut shots. Things are going to heat up."

"Oh, shit! I remember her doing that on spring break when she was in college and ended up dancing on the bar, alone with two men."

"And I remember having to call you and you whisked her off, like a knight in shining armor."

"And like a gentleman, I took her directly home to her parent's. But I didn't really know her then. I guess that's where our friendship started, but it was years later before we realized we had this damn chemistry thing going."

Buck stared at him. "That's the thing about you. You're always the gentleman...the nice guy. She always went for the bad asses, who used her and brawn instead of brains, all losers, abusive husbands. And now look at you...successful, good-looking, wealthy and you're still gazing longingly at Emily the snob like she was some goddess. Are you sorry for getting back at her?"

Jackson turned and stared as she took a shot, her head flying back exposing her long neck and he thought about that night in the playroom with her spread eagle, his hands around that throat of hers, making her beg for him, for punishment. "Not in the least." But it was so damn hard to let her go and send her away... He was getting aroused just thinking about it.

The band had started up and the women at Emily's table were up dancing with each other, thinking they were still hot shit, all except for Emily, standing with an inebriated sway against the back wall, taking it all in.

Buck elbowed him as he stood to go to the men's room. "On your way back, you ought to stop and say hi to little miss heartthrob. She's got to be watching those bitches thinking she's in the twilight zone. Besides, she keeps looking over at you. Come on, Jacks, you know you want to and you know she wants it...you know she does, if you got close enough to get back at her like you said."

On his way back to the bar, Jackson glanced in her direction again and their eyes met. He grinned and she gave a come hither smile with a little lift of her chin. What the hell, he thought and zigzagged through the tables and chairs. Once they were face to face, he realized her foot was tapping and he didn't know if she was still pissed or just going with the rhythm of the Ed Sheeran song, Shape of You. Nope, no rhythm to that tapping, it was her trademark anger tell.

"How's it goin'?" he asked gazing into incredibly stormy, narrowed, drunken gray eyes.

She reached out and touched the collar of his shirt. "Do you realize you're the only male in here who doesn't have a damn T-shirt on?" Her head tilted to the side. "I feel like I've stepped into a vacuum...a vortex to hell. What's with this? You know what it feels like?" Her words were a little slurred.

"Like high school and college."

"How do you know me so well?" she asked breathlessly.

"I just do, baby. We've been...whatever we are a long time...what is it...thirteen years now since we first realized the bond, the connection...the attraction?"

She let her fingertips wander down the front of his button-up shirt. "And I was married to that cheating bastard." Her mouth became a beguiling pout.

"Yep, you were and we came so close to...having the best sex of our lives. But you turned me away." She sighed wistfully and Jackson couldn't stop from putting his hands on the wall on either side of her face as he leaned in and gave her a tender peck on her half-opened mouth.

Her breath sucked in and she moaned. "Don't do that to me, Jacks."

"Why not?" he asked, grinning down at her.

Emily's breath quickened. "You know damn well what it does to me."

He moved in, kissed her harder, raised his head and said, "Tell me."

Her eyes were half-closed, her chest rising and falling. "It makes my twat twitch, you asshole. It makes me wet and it makes me want you. But I don't want to want you. I hate you."

"I know you do. And you hate this, too." This time when he kissed her his lips were possessive, his tongue exploring. He felt her tremble and had to consciously fight back an erection.

"Take me out of here. Please, I want to fuck you. We don't have to go to the playroom. We can go anywhere. You got back at me. We're even. Touche! Please, can't we just go somewhere and have mindless sex that makes us feel like we're seventeen again?"

There's nothing more I'd love to do but she's had too much to drink. Her eyes looked pleadingly into his, but she was getting more unsteady. "Put your arms around my shoulders before you fall down," he ordered. She did what he asked, looking down then back up all innocence and sweetness. "Don't bat your eyelashes at me. I know you way too well. Look at me and listen."

He waited as she gave an exasperated sigh and glared at him like a petulant child. "You're drunk...this is like déjà vu. Remember the college break and you just had to go out drinking with the girls?"

Her brows drew together and she frowned. "Which time?"

"Which time? Cute. The time you were dancing on the bar and that creep from high school was egging you on, trying to get you to take your skimpy little shirt off and damned if you weren't about to do it."

Emily stood up straight and lifted her chin proudly. "I was not about to do it! But you just had to come charging in to rescue me from myself—"she hiccuped, interrupting her speech.

"Uh-huh...yep that's the way it happened. It was almost closing time and you're so-called girlfriends had left you stranded. That douche-bag was the only one in the bar besides the bartender, who just happened to be the guy's brother. It was fate Buck stopped in after his date that night. And what happened after that Emily? Why don't you tell me the rest of the story?"

She hiccuped a couple of more times and looked away from his penetrating gaze. "Stop it, Jackson," she managed to get out.

"I'm not stopping it. Buck tried to talk you into getting off the bar and letting him take you home. You called him a few choice names and the two douches told him to get out and threatened to beat the shit out of him if he didn't. But he'd called me when he first walked in and saw what was going on. And as they're trying to escort him out, while you're still dancing mindlessly on the bar like some strip teaser gone wrong...thank goodness you didn't take it up as a profession, by the way—"

"You asshole!"

"I may be an asshole, but when I walked in, handed my revolver to Buck, who made sure no one was going to stop me, picked you up, put you over my shoulder and carried you out of the bar, kicking and screaming all the way to my car, I saved your sorry little ass from getting raped and that's how I became friends with the young, snotty, prima donna, known as Emily Masterson."

"I was not--hiccup—not—hiccup—going to get raped."

"I've never told you, but I'd heard rumors about some girls being roofied...date rape drugs put in their drinks and that bar was mentioned. You know, having a cop for a mom, it was pretty easy for me to get the place checked out and guess what they found, miss fucking know it all...roofies. So, you do the math."

Her eyes squinted, her nose crinkled and she hiccuped again. "I'm sorry. You should have told me. But, Jackson, that was so long ago. Can't we please forget—hiccup—the past. Thank you for saving me! Thank you for staying—"

"Your friend...that's what I am, Emily. And I am not going to have sex with you when I'm having to hold you up. You have the hiccups because you drank too much, and I'm pretty sure after I walk you out of here and get you home, you'll end up worshiping the porcelain goddess."

"You're still trying to get back at me," she accused.

"Grow up!"

"Don't tell me to grow up—hiccup—you don't think what you did to me was a childish way to get retribution?"

"No, I don't. I gave you exactly what you wanted...to be punished and what better punishment than not giving it to you. Trust me, I know from times I was kicked out of your bed with—"

"Ah-ha! Total and complete childish revenge."

"They say it's a dish best served cold but you were on fire."

"Bastard!"

"Are you walking out of here or am I going to carry you?"

"I'm not going—hiccup—anywhere with you!"

Jackson sighed, removed her hands from his neck, picked her up and slung her over his shoulder. And like the first time, she was screaming and kicking. "Oh, Em, you're so sexy like this. Go ahead, cause a scene. Your buddies could use a little excitement in their lives," he told her as he turned and gave a salute to their stunned, open-mouthed faces.

#

She'd finally quit ranting by the time they pulled up in front of her parent's. Actually, she was deathly silent, not even a hiccup, and that worried him. Jackson was also irritated by her accusation of him being childish. He'd really believed that once he had her bound like that, she'd be anticipating what she'd always wanted, the exquisite submission and pleasure in pain of BDSM. And punishment was what she wanted...so how was it punishment to give it to her? Women! he thought, reaching across her to open her door.

For the first time in several minutes, she looked at him. "What? You're dumping me off? You're not walking me to the porch?"

"I think you'll make it fine."

"I thought you were a gentleman."

"You don't like nice guys and gentlemen, remember?"

"No!"

"Well, I do."

"Oh, God! You're angry?"

"Please, get out, Emily."

"Make me."

"You'd like it too much." He looked at her, his eyes challenging, knowing how pissed it was making her that she couldn't get a rise out of him...in more ways than one.

She averted her eyes. "My parents are out of town. You wanna come in?"

"Nope."

"Jackson?"

"What?"

"Do you love me?"

The question surprised him, first Buck, now Emily herself. "Of course, I love you. You're one of my dear friends."

She blanched. "One of your dear friends? You said that before. I...well, I just thought since...you know, the room was built for me and the other stuff you said..." her voice trailed off.

He felt like an ass but he was going to say it anyway. "That's sex, Em. Don't confuse it and friendship with being in love." She flinched. He knew it was worse than if he'd slapped her and part of him regretted saying it. "Look, let's not do this right now. We've both had a lot to drink. How 'bout we go to dinner tomorrow night. Not to the house...I mean really go out to dinner and talk."

She sat for several seconds as if she were pondering it over then pushed the door open and climbed out. "Okay...sixish?" she asked over her shoulder.

Oh shit! She was staggering onto the sidewalk in three inch heels. "Wait," he called, running up to catch her before she fell. Picking her up in his arms, he carried her to the front porch. "No purse? What's the code to the lock?"

"Mmm-uh, I'm not giving you the code."

"I'm not standing here holding you all night. Give me the code or I'm going to fucking kick the door in." She was almost passed out but mumbled some numbers. After three tries, he got it open, turned lights on as he went down the hall leading to her bedroom...the same bedroom she'd kicked him out of thirteen years ago.

He laid her on the red bedspread, put a throw over her and looking around, saw little had changed. "Don't go," she whispered, breaking into his memories of making love to her on that very bed. He had been about to enter her when she'd stopped him, jumped up and kicked him out. She'd felt guilty because she wasn't legally divorced from her husband, though they'd been separated for months.

He bent, kissed her forehead and smoothed some of the copper tendrils from her face. Within seconds she was out and he stood over her, listening to her purring, his emotions running rampant, confusing him. With a lump in his throat, he went back the way he'd come, turning off lights and locking up.

Climbing into the Jeep, he took one last look at the house and thought, Damn it, why do I always have to be such a fucking good guy. There's nothing more I would have liked than to curl up next to you, Emily, and... "Stop it, you fool," he said aloud and headed back toward the mountains.

#

Emily was sitting out on the front porch when he pulled up. She looked exquisite in a simple blue and gold sheath...understated but classy. Her hair was in soft waves over her shoulders, showing a hint of dangling earrings. She stood when he walked up. His heart skipped a beat as her eyes met his and she gave him a dimpled grin. God, sometimes I forget how beautiful she is, he thought, smiling back. "You look amazing."

"Thank you. You're looking quite handsome and debonair yourself." Her eyes sparkled almost mischievously.

"Shall we?" he asked, extending an arm for her to take.

#

Once seated at the restaurant, sipping champagne and giggling like teenagers, Jackson began to relax. He'd been worried there might be repercussions after last night's battle of words. After thinking it over, he was beginning to see why she thought he was childish for what he'd done and couldn't blame her for thinking he might be in love with her. He reached across the table and put his hand over hers. "About last night—" he started.

"I don't want to talk about it," she stated firmly, entwining her fingers with his. "I don't want anything to ruin tonight. Why are we constantly doing this? Why are we always ruining the now?"

He was relieved, gave her hand a squeeze then sat back and let his fingers glide from hers. "Look, I don't want to spoil anything either. We have this unique bond between us. And there's the amazing chemistry. I want you as my sub and best friend. But all this in love stuff...that's not you or me. We've known each other too long, been through too many things together." He ran a hand through his thick blond hair and looked her in the eyes. "I should have told you this before. I'm not interested in living with anyone or ever getting married. After the breakup with Crystal, I don't want to have to deal with anything like that again."

Emily nodded reassuringly. "Oh, I completely agree. Look at me and my track record with men. I don't need to live with another one. I can't think of a reason on earth why I'd want for have to fix their dinners every night, do their dirty laundry, listen to sports blaring all the time."

For some reason, that wasn't what he'd expected to hear and felt a certain amount of disappointment. He cleared his throat. "So, we're good. You're still willing to try this unconventional relationship out?"

"More than ever," she said sweetly, holding out her flute.

He tapped his against hers and couldn't wait for dinner to be over.

#

Since her parents were still out of town, Emily insisted they go to her house, explaining she wasn't ready to go back to his after her walk of shame or her silent ride home with Cliff two weeks before. Jackson agreed and once inside, they were making out in the entry and his hand went under her skirt. Instantly, he realized she wasn't wearing any panties and the feel of her wet pussy made him hard as a rock. She moaned as her hand went to his crotch and felt his erection. Before he knew it, they were in the living room in front of the couch and she was pushing his suit jacket off his shoulders.

"Help me with this, damn it," she said then stood in front of him and let her dress fall to her high heels.

He stared at her gorgeous nude body for a few seconds as he began to shuck his clothes. Once undressed, he started to pull her to him but she stopped him. "No, not tonight. Now it's my turn. Just sit down, shut up, don't move and let me do my job," she ordered.

His mind was whirling. Who is this passionate dominating woman, he wondered, getting more turned on by the second. She gave him a slight shove and he sat on the couch as she went to her knees between his legs. Jackson couldn't move, if he wanted to, while watching, mesmerized as she gently ran her fingernails over his dick then cupped his balls in both hands and bent her head to kiss each one. The sensation was so heady he was beyond thinking and didn't want it to end.

Emily's tongue found its way to the ridge of his shaft and ran up to the head then swirled around it. He felt her warm breath tickling, taunting and was so aroused, he had to keep himself from putting a hand on her head, forcing him all the way into her mouth. She nibbled and teased and finally her tight lips took him in and her tongue kept up its rubbing as he saw his erection going in and out. Now, his hands went to her head and pushed, thrusting it down her throat.

Emily pulled away, looked up at him and smiled. Standing, she reached her hand down. "Come with me, baby."

Dazed, he took it, stood and allowed himself to be led back to her bedroom. At that moment, he'd have followed her anywhere. The covers were pulled back, the bed waiting and inviting. She kicked off her heels, laid down and stretched out. In seconds, he was on top of her undulating body, their kisses desperate, passionate, until she rolled on top of him and sat up, straddling his hips between her thighs. From under a pillow, she pulled out a long, red, silk scarf.

"Give me your wrists," she ordered, her voice raspy with desire.

At once, his senses were coming back to him but he had to admit to himself he was intrigued. "No, Em, look...this isn't the way it works."

Her eyes narrowed and she gave that sly grin. "Oh, yes, Master, tonight this is how it works. You want me to trust you then you have to trust me. Tit for tat, so to speak. Or do you want it all to end right here?"

He couldn't believe how much it was turning him on. Hell no, I'm not about to let it all end, he thought and with a sigh, held up his wrists, put them together and watched as she quietly bound them then leaned her body over his, her breasts tickling his face while she tied the ends together through the wrought iron of her headboard. She gave a tug to make sure it was secure then let her body slink along his until she was in upright position again.

"What...you're not going to blindfold me?" he asked sarcastically, while actually wondering what it would be like.

"Oh no, baby. I want you to see everything I'm going to do to you," she replied sweetly as her fingertips ran around his nipples then gave a little pull.

He wanted to push her head down and have her suck them but he couldn't. He had no control and it was already driving him crazy. Next he watched as her head bent and he felt her tongue swirling around one nipple then the next. Without knowing what he was doing, he started pulling against the restraint as she bit down hard. He jerked as the sensation went straight to his cock.

"What's the matter, Jackson? Is there something you want that you're not getting? What's it like...the being out of control...the anticipation? You like it, don't you? I just bet you're dying to cum."

He could feel her ass and pussy against his erection and all he could think about was getting off. "Yeah...you made your point."

"Say, please. Tell me where you want to cum. Is it my mouth, my pussy or how 'bout my ass. Oh, you'd like that, wouldn't you? But remember, you have to say please."

"Damn it, Em. I don't care. Please. Are you happy?"

Lifting up on her knees, she let her fingers trail down between her legs and grasp the head of his shaft. "Hmmm, I love the feel of you. Are you in love me, Jackson? You know you are. Admit it and I'll let you cum."

"Em, no." He was about to explode.

She removed her hand. "Oh really? You know all I'd have to do is raise up just a little higher and you'd slip right in." She grinned down at him then hopped off the bed.

"Hey, where are you going?" Frantically, he started tugging against the scarf.

"I have to pee," she answered over her shoulder.

She was gone for several minutes and he was getting soft when he heard the toilet flush and within seconds Emily entered, fully dressed, and slipped her heels back on. Before he had a chance to ask what the hell was going on, she was untying the scarf.

"Better hurry. Mom and dad are almost home."

Now, he was completely confused. "I thought you said they were out of town."

"Oh, they were, but they should be here in under fifteen minutes. I just got a text from them."

He jumped up, flew past her, into the living room, gathered his scattered clothes and dressed as fast as he could, while Emily stood with the front door open, giggling the entire time. He was furious and once his shoes were on, went past her onto the porch. She followed and the gleam in her eyes made him even more agitated.

"You did this on purpose, didn't you?" he asked as her parent's car pulled into the driveway and they both waved. He waved back and self-consciously ran a hand over the back of his head to push down hair he knew had to be standing on end.

"What's todays date, Jackson?" Emily asked calmly.

He thought for a minute then glanced at his watch. "April first, so wha...? Oh shit. Don't you dare say it."

"What? April Fools?" she asked innocently. "So, my precious fool, I know you better than you know yourself, and you are in love with me...like it or not."

He couldn't resist her and matched her smile with his. "Oh, I'm a fool alright. So, is the game still on?" he asked, praying she'd say yes.

"I wouldn't have it any other way," she told him and for the first time, he knew she was right, he was a just a fool in love with Emily fucking Masterson. But he wasn't going to admit it to her...he didn't want anything ruining the game.

"Nor would I," he whispered, kissed her on the cheek and headed down the sidewalk. Once in the Jeep, he looked back at her standing on the porch grinning, like the cat that ate the canary, and couldn't help wondering if she knew she'd done them both a favor. She'd shown him what it was like to be submissive...and he had to admit it was exhilarating...being out of control...the anticipation. The switch had been a good thing, because now she understood the responsibility of being dominant. Things where just going to keep getting better and he couldn't wait for the next round.

"Touché, Em, well done," he said aloud, pulling away and heading back to his house, thinking of future romps in the playroom and the next part of the game.