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It was when the ladies were narrowing down their purchase options that she noticed Logan had come out of her back room. He was leaning against the curtained opening, watching them all with an amused twist to his handsome lips, arms crossed over his broad chest.

Nell noticed him then as well, and her brows lifted. In the uninhibited mood that now reigned, Madison wasn't at all surprised to see her give Logan a thorough, blatant appraisal, pursing her glossed lips.

"Well, you're a cool drink of water, followed by a hot bubble bath." She nudged her friends to draw their attention. Holding up one of the more sizeable dildos in a nice chocolate color--it came with a chocolate syrup dipping sauce as well--she waggled it at Logan. "How do you think you'd measure up to this one, honey?"

Madison tucked her tongue in her cheek. A lesser man would cut and run, but Logan offered an easy smile. "Well, ma'am, I'm taken, but otherwise I'd prove to you size doesn't matter. It's how good you make her feel."

That brought a fervent "Amen" from Sally, and a "That's the damn truth" from Diana. Nell sighed dramatically. "Honey, I wish more men knew that."

Logan sent a wicked look toward Madison. "As far as the size department, I can hold my own. Just ask her."

The women hooted, especially when Madison flushed to the roots of her hair. She swore vengeance in her mock glare at him.

"So is he telling tales?" Nell demanded.

"Actually . . ." Madison gave him her own appraising look, just as bald as her customers'. His brows lifted, eyes dancing with amusement. "He's understating it."

"Oh, don't tell us that. Nell has a weak heart. She might just pass right out."

"I can handle three men to your one any day, you silly bitch."

More of the same banter followed, but fortunately they were ready to check out. It only took about five minutes to ring them up and give them a friendly wave, an invitation to come back soon. But with Logan leaning in the doorway behind her, engaging the women in casual conversation as she handled their purchases, the thrum of sexual tension between her and him built in a way that made those five minutes feel much longer.

Soon as they left the store, she turned, not surprised to find him less than a foot away. She could actually feel his heat envelop her before she turned. She would have lunged at him, then and there, but his gaze adjusted downward, deliberately focusing on that box beneath the counter.

Not allowed to pleasure yourself in any way. Surely that didn't mean even a single kiss, a stolen touch . . .

She met his gaze. Shit, it did. Her only consolation was seeing regret in his eyes, a banked frustration that probably mirrored her own, but she knew he'd hold firm. How bad could twenty-five switches be? Pretty bad. She'd been switched by her mother a couple times as a child. A switch in Logan's hand would be Ouchy to the nth degree of Band-Aids.

"Taken, hmm?" she said, with a casualness she didn't feel.

"In my mind, yes. Still working on the lady's feelings on the matter."

"Does something bring you here?" Other than the desire to torment me?

"I'm out of fives and wondered if you could save me a trip to the bank by loaning me a few. I have more cash customers than most." He held up three twenty-dollar bills.

"I thought Logan Scott was always prepared for every contingency."

"I am," he said comfortably. "I knew you'd have some."

She sniffed at that, but counted him out a dozen fives and exchanged. As they did, his hand closed over hers and stayed there. "You're trembling," he observed.

"A little." She didn't have to talk about why, thereby breaking the rule in the note. He knew why she was trembling, since he was behind all of it. He drew her to him, and she decided she wasn't going to interpret comfort as pleasure, even though it was definitely a favorite memory of the day, to be held against that broad chest, his strong arms wrapped around her. Plus, he'd initiated it, right? She laid her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes as he stroked her hair.

"We chose your safe word, but we really didn't talk about what it means, did we? Not directly."

Of course. The note hadn't been telling her to remember her sister. He was reminding her of her safe word. Alice. One mystery solved.

"It's more than a functional word, telling a Master to stop," he continued against her hair. "Having that word is a diamond in your pocket, a constant reminder that your care is more important to your Master than anything else."

"You've told me that before."

"You look like you needed the reminder."

She thought of Veronica, the abused woman who had come into her shop a few weeks ago with a cruel asshole pretending to know what a Master truly was. Logan had convinced Veronica to go to a battered women's shelter and the woman had chosen to stay. Since then she'd been taking steps toward reclaiming her life.

Madison also thought about the barely controlled fury Logan had demonstrated toward the way Veronica's "Master" had treated her. Still, he'd switched gears in a blink and handled Veronica with gentle firmness, the way a Master--and a man--should handle such a situation.

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