Free Wanting Wilder by Michele Zurlo

She and Wilder would fit in there very nicely.
    CHAINSFREE: It’s wonderful. It has a great tub and a separate shower. I think I’ve only ever dreamed about having something like this before. The whole apartment is incredible. Too bad it’s temporary.
    MASTRV: Why so?
    CHAINSFREE: It’s a corporate apartment. It doesn’t belong to me. It belongs to Oasis.
    The screen remained blank for a long, long time. She’d told him how desperately she’d wanted this job, but she’d never told him the name of the company. From his silence, she figured he’d heard of it, and she wondered what he thought.
    CHAINSFREE: Master V? Are you still there?
    MASTRV: You’re working for Oasis in Vermont?
    CHAINSFREE: You’ve heard of it?
    MASTRV: Yes. Hey, sorry to cut this short, but I have to go. I have some things I need to get done. I’m glad things are going well for you.
    CHAINSFREE: Sure. Thanks for listening.
    She frowned at his abruptness as she signed off, and she hoped everything was okay on his end. No doubt she’d pulled him away from something pressing. She stared at her desktop background, a picture of a majestic white wolf from the Potter Park Zoo. The still image watched her, a wealth of weary intelligence warning her that some pens didn’t have bars. Lydia knew that denying her desires formed a cage. She just didn’t know how to escape from it.
    * * * *
    When she’d explored her apartment building that first day, Lydia had been delighted to discover a gym and spa on the first floor. The second day, Sunday, she’d worked out prior to heading into the Oasis building to unpack her office. Though she knew Sir wouldn’t let her go to work today, she didn’t think he’d have a problem with her working out. If nothing else, he seemed to appreciate her body as a blank canvas for his rigging.
    She meant to wake up early and get in a good, punishing workout, but for the first time in years, she slept in. Most people used alarms. Lydia did not. She naturally woke between five and five fifteen every morning. When she opened her eyes, the digital display read eight thirty.
    Panic seized her heart, pumping adrenaline that made her leap from bed. She rushed to the bathroom and through her morning ritual. Wilder beat her to the kitchen.
    She couldn’t exactly think of him as Sir just then. He stood before the coffeemaker, both hands resting on the counter, staring at the appliance. Expectantly. Dark blue cotton pajama pants covered his lower half, but he hadn’t bothered with a shirt. Her breath caught as she took in the cords that defined his arms and back. She couldn’t see his chest, but she could guess from how tight and trim his sides and waist were that it was just as sexy as it had been before.
    She moved closer. He rubbed one eye and poked at the buttons on the front of the machine. It wasn’t plugged in. When nothing happened, he went back to staring at it.
    She leaned around him to reach the plug and fix the problem. Her breast brushed his bare arm, but he didn’t seem to notice. The feminine part of her bristled against the lack of reaction. Sure, she had specified no sex, but that didn’t mean she wanted him to be oblivious to her body.
    The red light came on, and water hissed. He grunted in acknowledgment and headed to the table, where he plopped down hard on a wooden chair. She would need to shop for some cushions.
    Now that she had a clear view of his chest, she saw that her assessment had been correct. The man was still a delineated mass of sexiness. She got a better look at the tattoo ringing his left arm. Glimpses of it had peeked out when she first saw him in her office, but not enough to be sure about the design. It almost looked like barbed wire, but she needed a closer inspection to make a positive identification.
    She had never cared about tattoos one way or another, but this one emphasized his bicep so nicely. She squelched the urge to run her tongue along it, and then she berated herself silently