When he paused to take a drink, Knox asked, “So did she expect out of you what I see the Dommes here expecting out of their submissives?”

“Yes. And no. Did I wear a collar? Of sorts. She gave me a necklace with a tiny charm that had our initials intertwined, and I wore it with the same pride submissives wear their collars. Did I spend time on my knees? Yes. During the first few months with her, she used that as a way for me to focus on her words and her voice. Other times when she demanded I drop to my knees, it was to service her.” Merrick glanced up. “Bear in mind all of this happened behind closed doors. She was a damn possessive woman. She hated the idea of anyone seeing me naked but her. So she never would’ve taken me to a club like this. She never would’ve strapped on a dildo and fucked me in public for the amusement of others. She used reward with me rather than humiliation. She didn’t care if others knew how well disciplined I was; she cared only that I showed my impeccable training to her as the ultimate respect for her. When we were together in public, it was trickier. Since she was so much older than me, she introduced me as her assistant.” He scowled. “Which rankled my young man’s ego big-time. I wanted everyone to know that I was solely hers, but I also understood that her business would suffer if we were out as a couple. We lived together in one of the bigger apartment buildings she owned, but I also had an apartment there—not that I think the ones closest to her were fooled.”

Knox swigged his beer. A million questions raced around in his head, but he waited for Merrick to continue.

“I graduated from college and went to work for her company. That year we bought and sold a record number of properties and made huge amounts of money. I had it all. The next year I’d almost had Lizette convinced we could take our relationship public when she . . .” His voice broke, and he took a sip of his drink. “She was diagnosed with breast cancer.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, man, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, it wasn’t good news. She tried to cut me out of her life. She fired me. She had the locks changed on the apartment. But I refused to accept that. I wouldn’t let my Mistress go through everything alone. I made her understand that she didn’t need to shelter me because I always had been—and always would be—her shelter. Her lame-assed argument was she didn’t want me to remember her only as frail and dying. And as I watched her suffer through all the medical treatments, I understood she was stronger than I’d ever fathomed. I realized that her being so goddamn formidable didn’t make me a weak submissive or a weak man. It made me a stronger man than I ever would’ve been without her.

“Lizette fought the good fight for a year. Even on her deathbed the crazy woman provided proof to her lawyer that we’d lived together for seven years, and that invoked the common-law marriage statute. So she left me everything—her real-estate holdings, money in the bank. I was set for life, but I didn’t have the only thing I’d ever wanted, the only person who’d truly ever been mine. She belonged to me as much as I belonged to her.” Merrick pushed his empty drink glass toward the edge of the bar. “Can I get a bottle of water, please?”

“Sure thing.” Knox walked to the far cooler, needing a second to get a handle on the emotions going haywire inside him. What he’d just heard didn’t sound like servitude; it sounded like a normal, albeit tragic, love story. Maybe even better than what was considered normal. He grabbed a bottle from the far back shelf so he could feel the cooling effects of the refrigerated air on his hot face. He stood and walked back, setting the water in front of Merrick, more confused than ever.

“Thanks.” Merrick uncapped the bottle and drank. Slowly twisted the top back on. Studied the label for several long moments before he looked up at Knox again. “Why do you think I told you that story, Knox?”

“Checking to see if my tear ducts are working? Or testing the theory that drinkers really do confide in their bartenders?”

“Such a smart-ass.” But Merrick smiled. “You said I’m a formidable Dom. That’s because I was an equally formidable submissive. Lizette owned my balls in the bedroom. Outside of that, I could be the biggest dick-swinging macho asshole in the world. And I was.”

Knox chuckled.

“After Lizette . . . I was a different man. I knew I’d never be another woman’s submissive, so I took what I’d learned from Lizette and became a Dom.”

“Not to be morbid, but if she were still alive . . . ?”

“I’d still be at her feet, arguing with her about some stupid shit, because she and I did not see eye to eye on some things. On most things, actually.”