Finals

Kurt was already up and gone the next morning when I got up, and I was grateful for that. I wasn't up to argueing with him any more. I was dreading my Elemental English class, too, not sure of how to act around Langely. It turned out that wasn't a problem. He wasn't in.

That puzzled me, even worrying me a little . He'd seemed healthy enough last night. Had something come on suddenly? We all went to the library, as per orders. I spent the rest of the day becoming progressively more worried, but decided I'd have to ignore it. He's a big boy. He can take care of himself. He may just be sulking.

I didn't see Kurt all day either. That evening, I left him a note and went to the library to work with my Children's Literature study group. Around nine, an assistant came up and tapped me on the shoulder. "Emily, you have a phone call."

Figureing it was Kurt, wanting me to bring something home, I went to the empty reference desk to pick up the extension. "Yes?"

"Emily?" It was Langely. "Could you come over right now, please?" His voice was strained.

I sighed. I really didn't want another argument with him about our relationship. "I'm sort of in the middle of something."

I heard a murmuring in the background, as if someone were whispering in his ear, but I couldn't make it out. His tone was more urgent. "Please, Emily. This is...very important. Very..." He gave a small, startled gasp.

"Langely? Is something wrong?"

"Not if you come quickly. He won't... I need you here, now."

This was starting to worry me. Thomas lived in a good area, but there had been a home invasion nearby only a couple of months before. One man had been beaten so badly that he had almost died. I felt a chill that had nothing to do with the air conditioning. I said softly, "Thomas, are you all right? Is someone there with you? Do I need to call the police?"

"No! No police! Please, he promised he wouldn't...wouldn't hurt me if you come alone."

"Thomas! Who? What's going on?"

"Please..." He was cut off, anything else he might have said muffled.

"Thomas!" I raised my voice in alarm. "Thomas! Are you all right?"

I heard breathing on the other end, thick and heavy. My scalp prickled. "You better not hurt him!" I blurted. "Don't you dare hurt him!"

The voice on the other end was faint and distorted, no more than a whisper. "You want him? Then come." There was a click, and the buzz of a dial tone.

I slammed down the receiver and grabbed my purse. I left the pile of note cards I'd been working on, almost a semester of work, spread out on the table, and dashed to the elevator. Behind me I could hear the confused muttering of my study group, but there was no time to explain. Indeed, it might be dangerous to explain.

He'd asked me to come over, that must mean he was at his condo. My hand was shaking so badly that I could scarcely fit the key into the ignition. I kept remembering the administrator who had been shot gunned in his home last Christmas, killed by a former student.

When I reached the condo, I hardly waited to slam the car into park before throwing open the door. I had to remember to shut off the ignition, since my key to the condo was on the same ring as the car keys, but I didn't bother with my purse. I hurried to the door.

As I reached to unlock the door, it swung open. There was no light, inside or out, and all I could make out was a dark figure looming in the shadows. A harsh voice said, "Don't scream!" and my wrist was seized in an iron grip. I was jerked roughly through the door, and it slammed shut behind me, leaving me in total darkness.

I didn't scream, but I lashed out in panic My hand connected with something solid and muscular, and there was a curse. I expected to be struck at any moment, to feel a fist smash into my face or belly. Instead I was wrapped tightly in someone's arms, crushed against a hard masculine body. "You stop!" a voice hissed. "Or something happens to your little boyfriend. Something not nice."

I grew still immediately. "Better. You can be good." The voice was a croon now. I felt a hand on my right breast, massaging firmly. There was a sick tingle of fear, but the really disturbing thing was that I felt my nipple start to stiffen.

This is wrong, I thought. And not just in the obvious way. Something odd is going on.

"Now, you want your boyfriend?" The hand slid down my rib cage. It slipped under the elastic waistband of my skirt, and I squirmed briefly. But his other arm tightened, and he said ominously, "You be still, woman. You don't need to squirm now. Plenty of time to squirm in a little while. Right now, you just be still."

I quieted, but I was trembling now. All my talk about self defense, and I was meekly allowing myself to be groped. But I was afraid that if I protested, Thomas might suffer. The hand slid deeper, under the waistband of my underwear. It paused there, the fingers running back and forth lightly across the upper edge of my pubic hair. Then he twisted the cloth in his fist, and jerked, hard. The panties were old, comfortable cotton, but even so it took a lot of strength to tear them. I was brought up on my toes before the fabric ripped. It parted, and he jerked again, even harder. He pulled out a handful of rags, and I felt the remains of the garment slide down my leg to the floor.

"Don't need those," he whispered. "Just in the way." He released me , and gave me a tiny push. "You go sit on the couch over there." I felt my way in the dark, finding the big sofa, the backless one that was more like a platform, built out of heavy bars of wood and large cushions. I sat in it's center, being careful to keep my skirt down past my knees. It was dark, and I was decently draped, but I felt shockingly exposed.

I heard him move to the door that led to the hallway. There was a snap, and light flooded the room. I covered by eyes, blinded by the flash. My vision faded back in gradually, and I was able to see my captor.

He almost filled the hallway entrance. He wore tight black leather chaps, slung low on his hips with a massive black belt, dripping chrome chains, a brief loincloth dangling in front. His sculpted torso was smooth and hairless, and it glimmered with a faint sheen of oil. Though his arms were crossed, I could see that his nipples were puckered with excitement into stiff points. He was also wearing a black leather hood mask. It was buckled tightly in place, but the mouth and eye zippers were undone, and he was watching me intently. His eyes were golden, and a thick mane of black hair escaped the mask in back to swirl over his naked shoulders.

"Kurt!" I cried. "You son of a bitch! What's going on? You scared me half to death."

He crossed the room in two strides, moving with the lithe grace of a panther, his hand rising. I cringed back instinctively. But instead of slapping me, he set his hand in my hair, and shook my head. It hurt, and I yelped in pain.

"You ought to know better." I could recognize his voice now, but the tone was different from his general good natured lilt. This was a growling, no nonsense rasp. "You've been on top, you know how a bottom is supposed to act."

I gaped at him. My good friend was speaking to me as a Master to a slave. He was speaking as if I were a submissive, and not a fellow Dominant. I shoved at him, but he tightened his grip and held my head back against the cushions, controlling me easily. "Well, you're still new, even if you are precocious. We can make a small allowance, if you'll be good from now on."

He bent down. The black, alien visage of the mask filled my vision, only the hot yellow pools of his eyes recognizable, and those more frightening because they were familiar. I closed my eyes to block it out, and felt the cool brush of leather against my cheek. There was a rasping brush of metal from the zipper, then the smooth dampness of his tongue curling around the shell of my ear. I shuddered almost uncontrollably as the hot wetness probed into the tender cup. Then he drew my earlobe between his lips, sucking it sensuously, nibbling almost daintily. I was still except for my quaking, wondering if I were going into shock. It didn't seem likely. If I was, wouldn't I feel numb, instead of screamingly sensitive?

His grip in my hair loosened, becoming more of a caress as I didn't resist. "That's better." he breathed. His tongue traced across my cheek. When it pressed at my lips, I parted them, knowing better than to deny him entrance.

Now his arm curled around the back of my head, holding me even more firmly as he pushed his mouth against mine, spreading my lips with his own. His tongue slid past my teeth and began a thorough exploration. I hadn't allowed Thomas this, and the sensation was intense. I made a sound, smothered by the probe of his tongue, and his arm tightened in warning, clamping me in a vice. I subsided and let him have his way, the kiss deep, hard, and wet. When he pulled back, his mouth was slick with my saliva, and he licked it away thirstily.

He stood back up, watching me closely to see what I would do. I remained sitting still, hands limp in my lap. He nodded approval and, reaching up and behind, began to unstrap the mask. He removed it, and tossed it aside. It was like looking at a stranger. The planes and angles of his face were familiar, even dear, but it was like a mask worn by a stranger. I'd watched him before when he was Master Bremin, but this was totally different. Now the heat was directed at me, and it was scorching.

I didn't know what to do. I just stared up at him mutely. I saw that the curtain of his loincloth was lifted slightly. As he watched me, his hand glided lightly across the smooth slab of his chest. He took one nipple between his fingertips and played with it, plucking the firm nub roughly till it stood out pebble hard. "You may speak, if you wish."

"I don't understand what's going on, Kurt..." His face hardened, and he took a half step toward me. Realizing my near mistake, I said hastily, "Master Bremin." Again I received a nod of approval. "Thomas called me. Where is he?"

"Are you worried about him?"

"God, yes! He sounded so strange. And now, this...you..." I didn't know how to go on. Not without risking angering him. And I didn't want to anger him. I wanted to be very careful not to anger him.

He started down the hallway, then paused. Not looking back, he said, "Don't move. Don't stir from your place, Miss Emily." He walked down the hall, the chains on his belt clinking faintly. Unlike leather pants, the chaps were backless. I watched the muscular flex of his white buttocks as he walked away. I didn't move. I didn't dare.

In a moment he returned. The clink of chain was louder, and there were two sets of footsteps. Kurt pushed Thomas ahead of him into the room, shoving him toward the couch. Thomas started to hurry to me, but was yanked up short. There was a thick, studded dog collar around his neck, attached to a length of bright chain., and Kurt held the other end. I think it was the same chain that had slipped out of his shopping bag, attracting my attention that night so many weeks ago. His hands were cuffed behind his back, and his ankles were tethered by another two feet of chain.

"Bad dog!" Thomas was naked, and Kurt's palm cracked against his bare ass. "Look at that, gets one sniff of a bitch and forgets all his good training." Thomas hung his head miserably. I'd had arguments with my classmates before about the use of the term 'beautiful' when applied to a man. They were of the opinion that a man could only be handsome. If he could be termed 'beautiful', then he had by necessity to be effeminent. But Thomas was a living contradiction to that claim.

His nude body was slim and sturdy, undeniably male. The muscles beneath the smooth sheath of skin were taut and well defined. His dark gold hair tumbled across his forehead, and he had to toss it back to reveal his gemstone colored eyes. There was none of the cold arrogance the world was used to seeing in his face now. There was apprehension, concern for me, and a curious sense of serenity. He was in his element.

"It's a game." I said dumbly. "You motherfuckers, it's a goddam scene!" I started to get up, intending to smack them both half senseless.

But Kurt dropped the chain and dived on top of me. My breath was driven from my body as he landed on me. All I could do was gasp desperately as he whipped a long black silk scarf from between the cushions and tied my wrists together with ruthless efficiency. By the time I'd begun to breath without concentrated effort, he'd shoved me back onto the cushions and lashed my hands over my head, tethering them to the sturdy sofa arm. I jerked hard, but the bonds were adamant. However fictitious this scenario, the knots were very real.

Kurt reached under the sofa and pulled out a thick rod of polished wood. It was about three inches in diameter, and four feet long. There were heavy metal eyes screwed into each end, and one exactly in the center. Cuffs were attache to the end loops. I recognized that piece of equipment, and began to kick and swear in earnest. I didn't have a chance.

Kurt captured my right foot and strapped it into one cuff. He had to do it while blocking my flailing left foot. I managed to land a couple of solid thumps on his shoulder before he grabbed my left foot. He forced my legs apart, stretching them till he got the cuff around my left ankle, and cinching it tight. Then he grasped the bar by it's middle and used it to haul my legs and lower body up onto the sofa, putting me on my back. He pulled one of the chains off his belt and threaded it through the middle eye, then around the sofa arm at my feet, and fastened it into a loop.

Panting a little, he sat on the edge of the sofa near my feet, and motioned Thomas to stand beside him. They both silently watched me struggle. After a minute or two, I became still. It was no use. I was only exhausting myself.

"When this is over," I said sharply, "whatever this is, you are both OUT of my life! Do you hear me? I don't want to see either of you again as long as I live."

Thomas looked wounded, and would have spoken. I was waiting for the apology and explication, ready to cut him to ribbons with words. But Kurt touched his hip, and he quieted. Then Kurt nudged him, and he turned obediently.

I almost cried out. The smooth, pale skin of his thighs, buttocks, and lower back was crisscrossed with thick pink wheals. There were also thinner lines, livid red and specked with blood. Again I tried to come up off the couch, this time in a blind effort to reach Kurt and scratch his eyes out. "Cocksucker!" I shrieked. "You hurt him! Nobody marks him. Nobody!"

I continued to buck, threatening to kill him, to skin his balls, to slice off his dick and stick it up his ass before I cut his throat. No one who knew me in the world outside of our mutual subculture would have ever believed me capable of such obscene venom.. I was surprised, myself, at the blind rage. After all, this was what Thomas Langely did.

Now I was totally at sea. This wasn't like Kurt. He was always so careful not to really damage his bottoms. Had he gone mad? People did. Quiet, boring people suddenly went over the edge and did the most hideous things.

Kurt put one arm around Langely's waist, and rested the other on the tender, raw looking skin of his ass. I saw Langely's muscles flinch from the contact. The marks were real, too. "Thomas," Kurt said almost conversationally. "is a good boy. A pleasing boy. A sweet boy." Kurt bent his head and pressed a kiss to the base of Langely's back, where the swell of his buttocks started. "A delicious boy."

He pressed another kiss, farther down. I saw Langely's head tip back. His hands flexed in their cuffs. "He's such a good pet, a good slave. Why do you mistreat him the way you do?"

"Mistreat?" I was really confused now. "I'm not overly harsh. I don't deprive him of anything."

"Ah! Now that's where you're mistaken." Kurt pushed Langely's buttocks apart, and ran a finger down the length of the crevice. Langely sighed. "You've neglected him shamefully, Miss Emily. You haven't given him what he needs." One finger paused, pressing against Langely's anus. Kurt pushed slowly, working the thick digit into the bound man's rectum as Langely gave a little whine that might have been protest, but was most certainly partially pleasure.

I couldn't take it any more. "Langely!" I made my voice as authoritative as I could. "This is just a game. Say the word. Say the word and end it."

He tipped his head, and I could see his face over his shoulder. His expression was sad and dreamy, mouth slack with lust and something else. "I can't," he whispered.

"Just say it!" Kurt jerked, driving his finger into Langely up to his hand. Again there was the whine. "It's 'crystal' isn't it, the one we've used before. Say it, Thomas. For god's sake, say it!"

I saw a tear dribble down the curve of his cheek. "I can't."

Kurt pulled his finger from it's fleshy sheath, and turned Thomas around again to face me. Langely's cock was half erect, bobbing, and Kurt's big hand closed over it and began to pull lightly. "Why are you so upset, Miss Emily? This is what Thomas likes, you know that. You've given it to him before. You're so generous in some ways. Why are you so mean about this one thing? He's told me how much he needs you, and you say no, and you say no." He stopped moving his hand, leaving it wrapped aroun Langely's penis, and looked up at him. "Satisfy yourself." Langely began to push his cock in and out of Kurt's curled fist, gazing longingly at me.

I was hot with embarrassment, and confusion. "I give him sex. I give him all the sex he can handle."

"But you don't give yourself, not really. And most people would say it's such a little thing. After what you do with Thomas, plain intercourse should hardly matter." I couldn't answer. Langely continued pumping, his cock swelling larger with each stroke. But he looked so sad.

"It does." I was hardly aware I'd spoken.

Kurt nodded. "Yes, it does. For you. It's the last part of yourself you hold back. It's the final gift, isn't it, Emily? You give, and you give, until that's all you have left, and you hold on to it tight. It means love, doesn't it? Not just sex, people can have sex all kinds of ways. But that last thing, the access to your very core... that is love."

I didn't reply. I was more frightened than I'd ever been in my life. Not of being physically harmed. I knew deep down that Kurt wouldn't be violent with me. But there was a huge, dark chasm yawning before me, one I'd avoided all my life. I'd been skating along it's edge since I registered.

"Think about it Emily, face it. It is love, and you're fighting it with all your soul. Why? Why are you afraid to give it, afraid to offer that last gift? Because...because...?"

He was prompting me. I wouldn't answer, I couldn't. It was too horrible, too wrenching. And I heard the words bubbling up from my own lips. "Because they go away. If you love them, they go away."

"Like your mother?" I nodded. "And your father." I nodded again. I felt choked. My chest was heavy, my eyes burning, but I couldn't cry. I hadn't cried for years. When Mom had her stroke, I'd put away tears.

"Emily." Thomas whispered. Understanding glowed in his eyes. I had to look away, unable to look at his compassion, unwilling to accept pity. His voice was quiet. "They don't always leave, Emmie. Not even if you push them away."

Kurt released Langely, and slowly undid the buttons of my blouse. His expression was once again gentle as he unhooked my bra and spread the cloth aside, exposing my breasts. "You can say the word, if you need to, Emily." He said. "But for Langely, and for you, I hope you don't."

Crystal, I thought. One word, two syllables, and it's over. Crystal. All I had to do was say that one word, and Kurt would close my garments again, untie my hands. Crystal, and he would free my legs, and help me to my feet. And I would walk out of this place, and probably never see these two again. These two who had been my friends. These two who had, I realized, cared for me in a way no one else ever had. Most especially, crystal would mean that I would not see Langely again. Never hear the sharp bite of an ill chosen word, never feel the solid warmth of his arms around me as we slept... All it would take was crystal, and my world would shatter.

I looked from Kurt, to Langely. I said, in a small voice, "Please." Langely drew in his breath sharply.

Kurt said, "Are you sure?"

"Please don't hurt me." I looked at Langely. "Don't let him hurt me, Thomas."

Kurt smiled broadly. He reached over, grabbed the hem of my skirt, and lifted it up around my waist. "Look, Thomas." he said. "Isn't she sweet?" He laid his hand flat against my pubic bush. "This is what you want, isn't it?" Langely nodded. "Fine." He pulled a tiny foil packet from where it was tucked in his waistband and ripped it open, extracting the small rubber circle of a condom. Langely had a full erection now, his cock wavering heavily before him. Kurt gripped it, and pressed the rubber to it's head, then slowly rolled it down the staff, encasing him in glistening, slippery latex. "Now," Kurt took his shoulders and maneuvered him toward the sofa. "I want you to fuck her while I watch."

"Thomas, don't you do that!" I said vehemently. They ignored me, as I knew they would.

Kurt helped Thomas kneel between my widespread legs, and lowered him till he was lying along my body, hands still cuffed behind his back. His breath was coming faster. He looked into my eyes from only an inch or two away. "Don't you do it, Professor." I whispered. "Don't you do it."

Kurt reached between us. His fingers pressed experimentally at the folds of my sex, and came away syrupy. "Oh, Thomas. Lucky, lucky man." He spread the juice of my body on the straining column of Langely's hard on, then gripped it and guided it down to my slit. "Here, my friend. Right here. Fuck her, Langely. Give her what you both need."

I've never studied physics. Einstein's theory is a vague mystery to me. But I know this: time can stand still. It did then. That moment stretched out for an eternity. There was the new, but somehow bone deep familiar, sensation of a man's warm, heavy body pressing down on me. There was breath in my face, the feel of a heart beating over my own. There was a hot, slick nudge against the outer lips of my genitalia, pausing at the entrance to my most secret self. I could feel the eager power of flesh and will, waiting to rush into me.

"Please Emily." It was a low moan. I looked into Langely's eyes, and wondered how I'd ever found them cold. They were filled with passion and tenderness, but questioning. I knew that if I said no, if I denied him again, he would stop. Even if his balls burst, and his heart broke, even if Kurt (unlikely as it was) beat him for disobedience, he wouldn't do it. He wanted, and needed, my permission. My acceptance.

I craned my neck, and kissed him gently, then let my head drop back. "Yes, Professor." I whispered. "Fuck me."

His hips moved forward. The swollen head of his cock moved past the outer folds, pressing against the inner lips of my sex. Then he pushed experimentally. It felt like someone was trying to insert a club. He pushed again, and the taut lips spread slightly. I felt a searing contact with my inner flesh, and was afraid again. I'd been a virgin for my entire life. Though I'd brought myself to orgasm many times, it had always been with clitoral stimulation. I'd never had a foreign object, flesh or otherwise, really inside my body.

Now my body was in turmoil. Even as it lubricated, preparing itself to welcome the erotic encounter, the muscles tensed, ready to repel any invader, despite my arousal. This wasn't going to be a painless deflowering. It was going to hurt like a bastard.

"Don't stop once you get started," I whispered. "No matter what. I know you don't want to hurt me, but don't stop. And don't hold back."

He nodded. "I'll do it quickly." "Thank you." He jerked his hips, and his glans split my labia, wedging his cock head into the opening of my vagina. My words turned into a yelp. Again his hips jerked, and his thick hard-on slid inside me about two inches. The humid walls of my flesh were shoved rudely aside, never before used muscles stretching painfully. "Oh damn!" gasped.

Langely dropped a kiss on my chin, and thrust again. I could hear the chain of his shackles jingle as he braced his feet. This time he went in another two inches before he stopped. I was on fire. It felt like I was going to tear right open at the crotch. How did women do this on a regular basis?

Langely shifted, but he didn't penetrate any deeper. He cut a look at Kurt, his expression baffled. "I can't get in any farther. Something's wrong."

Kurt laughed softly, and rubbed his back. "It's her hymen, dolt. She still has her cherry."

Langely looked at me in round eyed astonishment. I'll admit to being surprised myself. I had thought that scrap of membrane had been broken long ago during some gymnastic or bicycle riding stint. But I still had my maidenhead. The realization inflamed Langely. I swear that I felt him swell even thicker and harder inside me.

"Go on," Kurt urged. "Pop it."

With a low, muttering growl, Langely rammed against me, surging forward. I cried out as I felt something break apart inside me, something emotional as well as physical. He slid into me, deep and smooth, not stopping till he was buried completely inside me, our pubic hair mingling. Then, for another endless second, he was still.

I was panting, and I felt tears trickling down my face. I felt spitted on a white hot poker, filled to bursting. If it had been Kurt, I thought numbly, I wouldn't have survived it. Not with his piece of meat.

Kurt was stroking my face, murmuring. "Oh, isn't she a brave girl, isn't she a good girl! You did it, Emily, you took it all! You lost your cherry. You're officially a woman now."

Langely bit my neck softly, and my shoulder. "My woman," he muttered. "Mine." He jerked his hips, and I moaned. "Mine." He pulled back, and pushed again. "Mine!" Then he was pounding into me, panting the word, over and over.

I was weeping steadily now, hardly able to grasp the passion in his voice. Not just lust, we'd shared lust often enough before. This was something infinitely deeper, stronger, sweeter. Oh, lord, I thought, I believe... I believe.

"I'm yours, Emily," he rasped. "Take me. Please, please, god, please take me."

So I took him. Not just his flesh, not just his body, but all of him. His vulnerability, his strengths, his fierce intelligence, his sheer cussedness...I took it all. "Yes. I love you, Thomas."

I'd never said it before. Langely started to cry also, the rhythm of his motion speeding up. I heard a clink of chain, felt it's cool brush on my calf as Kurt removed Langely's shackles. There was a click as his handcuffs were released, and his arms went around me, holding me even closer. He kissed my breasts wildly, nipping and licking at my straining nipples till I was positive that we had both gone mad, and it was a fine thing, a very fine thing indeed.

Then first my right, then my left ankle was unstrapped. Without hesitation I crossed my ankles at the small of his back and began to push up to meet his thrusts. My head rolled in ecstacy, and I saw Kurt standing beside us. He'd lifted his loincloth aside, and had both hands wrapped around his massive erection, stroking himself in time to our coupling. His face was shining with a combination of lust and sweet happiness. When he saw I was looking at him, he bent over and kissed my forehead, then kissed Langely's sweaty brow. "You're so beautiful, my friends. Both of you. So fucking beautiful together." His hand moved rapidly, and he arched his back, gaze gone intense. His come spurted out strongly. I felt a hot splash hit my throat. Another landed on Langely's heaving shoulder. It was like a benediction on our union. Then Kurt was gone. He slipped from the condo, leaving us alone together.

Langely didn't untie my hands, but I understood. Besides, I didn't want him to stop for even a second. We strove against each other, panting, muttering endearments and curses, now tender, now obscene. Finally I was half out of my mind, racing headlong toward something that would be so earthshattering that I feared it even as I exulted. "Come, damn it!" I cried. "Come, you sweet bastard!"

Langely gave a primitive, animal howl as he lunged against me one more time. I felt his fleshy club plumb my very depths. There was no more I could give him, no more he could take. Then he gave to me. He quivered, and even through the latex sheath he wore, I felt the hot pulse of his coming as I was rocked by my first, true orgasm at the hands of a man I knew beyond doubt I loved.

I'd read about women swooning in romance fiction all my life, and all it had taken for them was a small shock. I almost experienced it myself, but for what I thought were much more believable reasons. Thomas lay on top of me, his hoarse breathing gradually slowing to normal. Then he reached up and untied my hands.

The first thing I did was take his face between my palms and give him the gentlest, sweetest kiss I could manage. Then I wrapped my arms around him, and held him, arms around his back, legs around his hips. Just held him, feeling the sweat and semen and saliva start to cool on my body. Knowing that my world had changed forever.

I had opened myself to the possibility of pain, but also to the reality of love. And now I had someone, someone strong and caring, standing between me and the yawning void of loneliness. There was no doubt in my mind that Thomas Langely and I would be driving each other crazy for a long, long time.