Chapter Thirteen
When Duncan split he left a huge hole in her life. She hated him. But she was uncertain what she hated more – Duncan, or her life without him. There was the collar and the cuffs on her dressing table, unused now, although she refused to put them away. She needed to look at them and remember the times they’d ringed her throat, her wrists, her ankles, and kept her safe within their firm embrace. Was it silly to keep them so close by, to remind herself of the erratic, quixotic Duncan the sadist who had been her life for thirteen years? Since she was eighteen. What a long time together. What a lot to lose.
The day that she finally looked at the cuffs and didn’t feel a queasiness in her stomach, she gave them a second glance and wondered why she’d let them gather dust for so
