One thing I've always been upfront about is that, while what I reveal in these diary entries will be the truth, there will be times when I will use what skills I have as a writer to hide truths that you may not even know are out there waiting if you only knew where to look. I know you think you know me well enough by now, Diary, to think you can look behind my words and tell what I'm hiding. So, I have a little test for you: what do you suppose I might be hiding when I tell you that I find the male neck incredibly erotic?

It's possible, you know, that I'm only trying to mislead you and make you think I'm writing about one thing when I'm really simply trying to not write about something else.

That wasn't fair of me, was it? Okay. So let's discuss the male neck then.

Do you know what I like? It's when they just give you a little peek. Just the seemingly innocent glimpse within an opened neckline ... two, three buttons undone at the top of a chaste, crisp Oxford shirt, no tie. The edges of the open collar framing a thick, moving post of a masculine neck. That Adam's apple. Oh!

 Sometimes, I wish I was a poet and if I was, my first poem would be an ode to a man's neck. Corded. Some stubble along the throat, preferably. Swallowing deeply. Turning toward me so I can see the angles defined in perfect lighting ...

I could go on.

But, I won't because while I am telling you the truth about finding the male neck erotic, I'm hiding from you the fact that I'm trying to write about hiding. And about how easy it is to hide from you, Diary, because I'm always in control of the words. But about how it's hard to hide from people who have learned my secrets because I give access as I give up secrets. It's why I find it so very hard to let a secret go.

So let me start this entry over, Diary. And let me do it right, this time. And, while I'm at it, let me admit that this entry is as much about starting things over to put them right as it is about hiding from things. Gosh, Diary, that was almost brutally honest of me. Here we go then:

My front door is one of the favorite parts of my home. When my house was built, the builder happened to also be salvaging a wrecked old house in another part of town for its bits and pieces. One of those bits was my front door and when he offered it to me, I was instantly in love with the romantic appeal of having that old door on my new home. It has four panels of old-timey, wavy glass in it and every single time I part the gauzy curtain and look out my front door at someone ringing my doorbell, I'm reminded of the past.

But, on this particular afternoon, I looked out my front door and the past I was reminded of was one I thought I'd dealt with. And dismissed, though not without some difficulty.

Just this glimpse. His neck. I kid you not, Diary, it was his neck that I focused on first. He was standing there, looking off and must have caught the curtain's movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned toward me as I peered out and I saw his neck first and then I looked up into his eyes and felt like someone had punched me smack in the gut.

Oh. God.

Looking at me with that same tightly controlled intensity as the last time I'd seen him. I panicked and my mind started pinging, racing through this weird, contradictory course: What the fuck? Not now. Damn him but he looks good. I want to fuck him to death. Stop thinking like that. He's not here. How come he makes me sweat just looking at him? How come the sight of him scares me half to death? I know he's been fine with everything since he got together with Uma. Are my eyes still red from crying after Jack left this morning? He can't be here. Not now. Not when I've already made up my mind. Go away. Please. I'm still not strong enough. I may never be strong enough. Please just go away.

I whipped the door open and glared at him.  "You ... You cannot be here. It's against the rules and you always play by the rules. I didn't invite you. I didn't even joke about it or anything. So ... You're just not here. Now go."

Made this little shooing motion to back him off my door stoop.

Tiny smile on his face. Amused despite himself. "Nice to see you again, too, Annie."

Oh. God.

That voice. That look. It just wasn't fair. I tried to shoo him away again, toward the rental car I spied behind him sitting innocently in my driveway. "I don't want to see you, Terry. You have to go. What am I saying? You're not even here."

Shutting the door again. Shutting him out. But Terry was, well, he was Terry, after all. He'd seen that move coming and he was reacting long before I could slam the door in his face. I felt the doorknob leave my hand and he was already through the door before I realized it. He grabbed my wrist and held on. Because he knew I wanted to run and hide.

"Annie, c'mon, love. Just want to talk to you. Surely you can do that for me?"

Couldn't talk to him, Diary. Heart-in-my-throat feeling and it was just about all I could do to keep breathing to be near him again. He looked so good and it felt so wonderful to see him again and it hurt so incredibly horrible to see him again and the weight of what I'd given up or lost was crushing me.

From nowhere, he stroked his fingers down my jaw and got this look in his eyes. That look. You know the one I mean, Diary. The one that fools you so completely into thinking you're seeing into him and that you're seeing that he feels all these things for you. I felt its impact like an instant tsunami wave. My reaction was totally unlike me.

I started shaking. My whole body. Hard.

It made him stop. He stood there, watching me shake. Maybe it only dawned on him just then. That I'd really meant it - that I couldn't see him again. And then he did the absolute wrong thing. He stepped right into me and wrapped his arms around me. Holding hard onto me when he should have done the right thing and left.

When I stopped shaking, I started pleading with him, mumbling into his chest and knowing he understood even if he didn't want to. "Please, Terry. Don't do this to me. It hurts too much to see you. I've come so far and ..."

Everything ground to an agonizing halt within my reality. He was using his hands on me. Stroking across my back, these miniscule little circling movements he did that were intimate in their familiarity. I felt my knees going weak at how good it felt to have him touch me like that. Closed my eyes and prayed for the strength I knew I didn't have. "For God's sake. Don't hold me like this. You're just confusing me."

"Let me clear things up for you then," he said, his voice dropping deep. Finger under my chin while he leaned toward me. Just this small move and he was there. There. On my mouth. Where I'd missed him so much.

Would you believe it, Diary? Not me. I'm talking about the way I breathed better with his lips on mine than when he drew a few inches away from me. It's the only reason - I swear and when have I ever lied to you? - that I leaned hard into him, slid my arm around his neck and kissed him back. I just wanted to be able to breathe easily, that's all. I swear.

Oh, Terry. How come you kiss so good? With your whole being? One of his hands weaved into my hair, grabbed for the back of my head and pulled me harder into the kiss. Put his other hand at the back of my waist and pressed me full on into his body while our mouths opened and we kissed like ...

Like only he could kiss me.

It shocked and embarrassed me. It excited and disturbed me. I wanted more but ... how could I? I'd made a choice, right? So, Diary, what did this say about me? That I'd be willing to have my face rubbed in the fact that, while he was my number one obsession, I'd never mean nearly as much to him as I once did? That I'd once trusted him with secrets I should never have and he had such power to make me regret what had happened? Well, shit, Diary. If I knew the answer to that, then I'd be a whole lot simpler to figure out, wouldn't I?

Why did he show up just then? Just after I'd finally been able to reach this peaceful place about how I felt about him. Just when I had made the decision that Jack would be the antidote to Terry. Not a substitution, because by then I understood the Game so much better and knew that wasn't possible. But my heart was Jack's and I had decided that Terry's firm grip on my soul was something I could ignore. It was the best answer I had - to hide from the pain so I wouldn't feel it anymore.

But a few minutes in Terry's presence and all my peace was shattered. One kiss and I was as hopelessly done in as I'd ever been. It felt like I would drown in the agony of missing him.

"Oh, God. Why can't I get you out of my system?" I whispered against his neck after the kiss broke and we were holding onto each other. "It hurts just as much to see you as to not see you."

"C'mon, Annie, don't ... I'm here now and you'll see. It doesn't have to hurt anymore," he said, his voice soft. "Some things might have changed but the core of what we had is still there. I know you, remember? You gave me that knowledge."

I saw it clear in my mind. That he was using everything he knew about me to torment me this way. I pushed hard against his chest and broke out of his hold on me. "I didn't think you had this in you, Terry. This is just cruel. Why play with me like this? It made you feel like big man on campus that I was mooning around over you, didn't it? Go away and let me enjoy that I've stopped letting myself be miserable where you're concerned."

"I'm not playing you. We need to deal with what happened. I'm here because I don't believe anything important has changed between us."

"No." Backing further away, out of his reach. Straightening to my full height, which, frankly, is not too impressive. But I was damned determined to put a stop to this - no way was I going down that path again with him. "You're probably right. I've had the opportunity to put things more into perspective. I don't mean this in a nasty way, Terry. I think we both just wanted it to be something it never was. We just fooled ourselves that something happened that went beyond the normal sweet things all the men and women in this group have."

"I know you don't believe that."

"Oh, yes, I most certainly do. Face it. You were my first Brother and you're such a wonderful man. We wanted it to mean something important so much that we made it more than it ever was." Deep breath. Now seeing clearly that I had one, only one real chance to get him out of there before ... well, even I knew Terry was the one person in the Game I found it hardest to hide from. He knew too much about me. Choking down on an instant flow of emotion to face closing this door. But I resolutely and cheerfully chirped out to him: "So, see, the thing is that now that we understand this, we can just be friends. Because I do still think you're a great guy and all. So, yes, that's what we'll do. No more drama between us. It'll be like how I am with Cort and Bud."

"Really?" Getting this look on his face. Like he was trying to figure out how he'd lost control of this conversation so easily. Then drawing his back up straight, folding his arms in front of his chest and staring down at me. His voice changed to something I wasn't used to from him. Snide, belittling. "We'll be friends? Like you and the fucking padre?"

"Yes. Doesn't that sound like a good idea?" Still cheerful. Faking it hard. Even managed a sweet smile.

"Like you and psycho cop?"

"Well, sure." 

"Friends." He turned and went into my living room. I sighed and followed. Watched him pace a rut in the carpet in front of my couch. "So, that little show at the front door just now? That was you greeting a friend? That's how you would have welcomed Cort or Bud? I can't believe you're so fucking popular with the men if that's the reception they get."

Big gulp. Quick search of my mind for an answer. The best I could come up with: "Well, but you ... you surprised me. That's all. That was just surprise."

"Really?" Two steps and he was in front of me. His hand light at my waist and tilting his head down to meet my eyes. So close to me. Adopting, on purpose I'm quite sure, his sex voice for the effect he wanted it to have on me. "So now that you're over your surprise, I guess we can have us a real visit? I can't wait to see how you'll go about making me feel welcome. What is it you'll do with me now, Annie, now that I'm a friend like Cort and Bud?"

He saw it. Saw exactly what my reaction was. I read it in his face and knew he'd seen that instant flush of arousal come over me at just the tiniest reminder I let myself have of what it had been like with him. Making love. Nobody did it like Terry.

His belittling voice again: "Your bedroom's this way, right, love? Why don't you come show me just how friendly you're willing to be."

To the end of my days, I doubt I'll know why I responded like I did, Diary. But it was the way he said it. We'd never talked to each other like that before, in this way that made everything seem cheap and ordinary. And this was the point I felt myself give up. I was just suddenly so very tired and sad.

"Terry, don't. We were never mean to each other before, were we? Let's don't be this way now." I plopped on the couch and stared at the floor. "I don't know why you'd come back to see me and it doesn't even matter. I'm happy for what you've found with Uma. I truly am because you are both very special to me. But you don't owe me anything, Terry, if that's why you've come. You were very good to me and I'll always love you for it."

Sitting there, amazed to suddenly find myself feeling stronger and all because I was finally, really-honest-to-God accepting that we weren't the same together anymore. And that I could now just deal with it instead of hiding from it.

"I think maybe it was good for me to see you again because I can move forward now knowing that I did the right thing. It won't hurt anymore now, Terry, that you don't feel about me like you used to. Before Uma. So we're fine and now you can go. Okay?"

When I felt the cushion shift next to me, I looked over to find Terry there. I reached out and patted his thigh and tried to smile at him.

Something in his eyes. I found myself studying him without my own pain in the way and I was confused by what I was seeing. Shock of disbelief: "Terry? I was doing the right thing and we both know that, don't we? Tell me I didn't hurt you."

"I've missed you so much, love. I came a long way to tell you that." So plain. This crack of vulnerability shining through in his eyes that made me wince. And I thought if I could just die then my life would get a whole lot better. There's just so much you don't know about us, Diary.

From some other heart, I whispered to him: "I've missed you, too. More than you could ever know."

"Ah, Annie girl, you'd be surprised." He looked off away from me and swallowed hard. 

The idea that I'd hurt him had never really seriously been something I'd considered. I wouldn't have hurt him in a million years. But I had and this was how I found out. It felt like a mortal wound.

"Shit. Don't do that, Annie." I blinked through wetness to find his eyes. He made this exaggerated groan and rolled his eyes. "You know what it does to me when you bite your lip and look helpless."

This was so Terry. Making an inside joke and trying to break the tension so it would be easier for me. I swatted at him, swiped at my tears and started giggling. But, are you familiar with that curious line of emotion, Diary? The one where it all gets jumbled up and one minute you're laughing and the next you're crying? I slid right over that line so fast and so hard.

And the next thing I knew, there was a set of strong, sure arms around me and they were gathering me against a safe, familiar chest and pulling me up onto a lap I'd never forget no matter how hard I'd tried. I nestled down in that space under his chin and let him rock me while I cried - for him, for me, for us.

When it was over, he let me cling to him and I watched the light shift in the room. And I wondered if he would know what to do. Because I didn't have a clue.

"We need to talk," he told me, his arms hugging me in to him.

"No. Not yet. Just let me have some more time with you. I like the way you do this. Hold me in your lap, I mean. It's one of the things I remember about you. Let me pretend, just a little longer, Terry. Please. If we don't talk, then I can pretend that this is the first time you've been here and that we're still ... "

"Annie. We need to talk about this. About us."

"I don't want to hurt anymore."

His hands on my forearms and he made me sit up so he could give me that intense look of his that got right down deep into me. Like always. "Do you remember promising me that you wouldn't ever need to hide from me again? That you trusted me?"

"That didn't work out very well, did it? It made what happened so much worse. It made it impossible for me to do anything but ache for the loss of you."

"You threw me away, Annie, you didn't lose me."

"I let you go so you could be with the woman you were meant to have the really special relationship with. And you never looked back. Which is how it was supposed to be."

His face got that softness that I knew was him about to tell me something to be kind.

A stab to the heart. Did he understand that he alone seemed to possess the ability to hurt me when he was trying to be kind? "Don't, Terry. God, but I know I don't want to hear whatever it is you're about to tell me."

"I don't want to talk about Uma. I'm not here to talk about Uma. This is about me and you. No one else." Swallowing deep. "You were right about Uma. About how I'd love her. But you were wrong about me. Because it hasn't changed how I feel about you."

Hand over his mouth, looking hard into his eyes, harsh whisper to him, "Shut up. The only thing that hasn't changed between us is that you make me wet just to be in the same hemisphere as you. All we ever had between us that was permanent is sex. It's not enough for me, not since I still have all these other feelings for you that you don't return anymore."

With his hand over mine, he pressed my palm into his lips. Closed his eyes. Open mouth, wet tongue, sucking kiss against my skin. Then dragging my hand away, leaning in to my ear, dropping his voice low, husky with emotion, to tell me: "The only reason the sex was good, right from the first time you touched me, is because of what we felt. We were born to be something important to each other, love, and we both felt it. I only ever left because I was so sure that after you'd played in the Game for a while you'd realize that what we felt wouldn't change. I thought you just needed time to learn and that, after a little break, then you'd ask me to come back to see you. You never hurt me until I realized you'd made the decision to ignore the way you feel about me."

He paused to let his words settle into me. I felt their weight, examined their edges, got distracted by their tone. It was hard to really allow myself to absorb their meaning. But he felt it when I accepted their reality. I sagged into his hold and felt his body respond with such confidence that I moaned at the way it felt to give in to what was happening. Then, his mouth at my neck. Moving slow, taking so much time with each kiss, knowing exactly what he was doing to me and he was only waiting to feel me shiver in his arms.

"Do you want to feel it again, love? I do." Murmuring in that husky rumble against my throat and waking me to the fact that I had arched back to give him better access. To the fact that I had unconsciously shifted my entire body just to feel his better. "Don't you want to feel the way only we can feel together? Let me prove to you that I still need you every bit as much as I ever did. That you still get to my soul."

Forever in a moment. Forever in his power. Forever obsessed with him. Forever contradictory in my complications. Forever wondering if hiding was the best tactic. "I'm scared, Terry."

"Do you want me?" Tempting me now with what he knew about me, lifting his head and watching my eyes open to find him. Very deliberately sliding his warm hands under my shirt to brand my skin all along his slow, caressing route to my breasts. "Tell me again, Annie. I need to hear it."

Into the fire. Like I could see myself jumping and knowing the flames were waiting to devour me.  Shaky voice but I said it: "I was born wanting you, amant."

"That's right. And I was born ready for you, Annie girl."

Oh. God.

He started murmuring to me after he lifted my shirt over my head because by then he had his lips over my heart and he could feel how fast it was hammering. Telling me it would be okay now. Telling me he still needed me. Telling me what we had was special. Telling me we were still and always souls who'd somehow recognized each other the moment we first really opened up.

Telling me he still loved me.

Oh, no. Did I let that slip, Diary? I'm not sure I should have revealed that, you know. I mean, I didn't tell you the first time he told me, did I? But then, there's a lot I never told you about that first visit. About him coming along with me on a business trip after those two days in the hotel in the Quarter. About me letting him come back to my home when we returned to New Orleans. But that's all you're going to get from me about that time because there's so much I owe to Terry to not tell about that time together. It's not just my own secrets that I can hold when I want to.

But Terry has told me I can reveal those particular words of his now. And, I'd like to think, I can reveal them because this was the moment I started believing it.

He said: "You've learned the essence of this Game. Each couple is going to have something unique. You've just not wanted to learn that you can have a really special relationship with more than one man."

I said: "But you're in love with Uma. I'm just another woman in the group to you now. I can't take that."

He said: "You're never 'just' anything to me, Annie. I love you both but you each bring me different things. You're the one who brings me peace. Uma knows this now, that what I have with her isn't threatened by what I have with anyone else. You still need to learn."

I said: "Is it a lesson I'll regret?"

He said: "Do you regret how you feel about Jack? If you still love me, and I know you do, does it affect how you feel about him?"

I said: "It's so different. He has nothing to do with how I feel about you."

He said: "Lesson's over, Annie. So's the break."

Warm lips. Strong tongue. Experienced hands. Determined body. Inventive mind. Sex voice.

And it was never going to be the same between us. Even I knew it. I knew it even in that time. And I still let it happen between us. With as clear a head as is possible when Terry's busy trying to fill it with images and possibilities.

Talking me into coming for him. I've told him before that I think he likes doing that because it demonstrates his power over me. But, of course I didn't say it just then because he had me flat on my back on the carpet and I wasn't able to talk because I was concentrating on trying to breathe.

"I love the way you look when you come like that," he whispered to me. "You look so fuckable."

Then trying to get him to show me what he meant but as much as I just wanted to feel him inside me, he fought every attempt I made to get him to go fast. By the time his hands had me fever hot, his mouth was taking its long, sweet road to my core. Once there, he was so tender yet insistent that when I came, I wanted to stop time and just wallow in what he could give me. He came to lie next to me as he allowed me to come slowly back to reality.

Mouth at my ear telling me he wanted to go finish this in my bed to avoid carpet burn on my ass because it might spoil his fun later. Pulling me up to my feet while I giggled at that and propelling me toward my bedroom. But I stopped to pick up his jacket from the floor where it had landed when I'd tossed it after stripping it off him. I heard him groan behind me as I tried to straighten up but he was already pinning me over the back of the couch and spreading my legs with his. And then burying his face in the hair at my nape while his hands came around and alternated between kneading my breasts hard or stroking lightly over my damp clitoris.

I'd missed him so much, Diary. It felt so good to feel him again this way. To feel his hardness pressed against me as our bodies moved against each other. The way you could be with Terry and he would read what you wanted but he would be the one in charge in times like this. He was tender with me at first but it just felt so good between us that we both found it impossible not to quickly let go with each other. I was lost from the moment I felt him slide his cock into my slickness. He went into me gently even though I nearly squirmed to feel him again. But after he hilted that first time, after we both felt the way I reacted, after I sent up a loud prayer for mercy, after he cursed out his relief ... from that moment, it was a relentless and stirring struggle that we seemed to both fight to extend at the same time we were trying to make the other come first.

Not sure who won. Don't remember it mattering. He carried me into my bedroom because my legs wouldn't support me. We decided later we'd both declare victory. I fell asleep in his arms while he was still whispering to me.

When I woke, I was alone and I thought it had all been a dream. It made me cry because I was so sure it couldn't have happened. That there was no way he could have walked back in my life and convinced me he still cared enough that I'd be willing to take a chance we still had something special between us.

He found me like that. Hiding under my pillow and wishing I could call Jack to make me feel better in that night. But when I heard him come back into the bedroom, I sat up and watched him carry in a small suitcase. Is this okay, he asked me, can I stay with you for a little while. This is for real then, I asked him, you weren't just looking for a quick shag? He shook his head at me and told me he found my insecurities endearing. Yours are as well, I replied.

"I am not insecure. Bloody hell, woman. Just ask any of your friends."

"I'll ask Uma. Somehow I believe she shares my opinion on your insecurities."

"What insecurities?" Growling at me.

I ticked them off for him on my hand. Hando. Bud. Cort. Maximus. But as soon as I said the last name, his eyes lost the glint of amusement.

You're not seriously threatened by Maximus, I asked him. He gave me his chin tilt that told me he wasn't about to answer that. But it's natural for Uma to be drawn to someone so closely associated with her field of study and her intellectual interests, I said. And realized too late I'd said the wrong thing. I'm sorry, I told him, I forgot that Uma told me her attraction to him really bothered you.

"I need to figure out how to keep you and Uma separated. Could be dangerous, you two harpies talking about me behind my back," he said with that smart-ass tone. "Exactly how detailed do your conversations get?"

Smiling at him because he was too funny like this. His eyes dropped from me and he started rummaging around in his suitcase. He was nervous about something, I realized. "Would you like to tell me about it, amant?"

"She sent me here. I wasn't trying to hide that from you but I don't suppose there was a good way to tell you, was there?" He finally looked at me. "I would have waited forever for you to ask me to come and would have missed this chance if not for her. You would never have asked for me again, would you?"

"No. I wasn't strong enough to see you again just to be reminded that I'd never have what I wanted with you. But I would have always missed you, Terry. And I never forgot what you gave me."

"Does it bother you that I came only because she insisted?"

"No. I don't blame you, Terry. I would have made the same choice in your place. But Uma ... this is a real sacrifice for her, you know? She's known all along that I was hurting and I guess she must have seen it in you as well. It was incredibly generous of her to make us find a resolution. Considering how territorial she is with you."

"Yeah, well, she's not being entirely selfless, love. This frees her up to explore things with Maximus. Now she's even asked to be on his list." Cigarettes. Oh no. Taking one out, tossing the pack back into his suitcase. Flick of the lighter. Deep drag in. Smoke blown out; the surest sign of Terry's stress was there for me to see.

"Why does what she might want to have with Maximus bother you so? Does what I have with Jack bother you?"

"Should it?"

"You tell me. You're the one teaching me about the Game, right?"

"So, about Jack. You worried about his reaction to us?"

"Nope. Jack's read my diaries and we've had a few ... discussions about my obsession with you. In some way, he's found the sense of the Game, of how he can be besotted with some of the other women, has helped him understand. Honestly, I love that about him, the way he has taken to it. But when it comes to Jack and me ... he's just got this way of making me feel secure in what we have. I'll just have to make sure I can do the same for him."

"I'll have to meet him someday, won't I? Not sure how I feel about that. Bloody Christ, it's like Maximus all over the way you women are randy over him."

"My oh my, Mr. Thorne, you have really got an issue here - like Maximus is invading your territory. Why don't you come here to me? I want you to tell me the truth about how you feel about Maximus and Uma but I want to be holding you when you do."

"Suddenly you're the expert at this aspect of the Game?" he growled out at me as he stripped off his jeans and walked toward me.

"Damn, baby. Are you trying to distract me from my mission to comfort you?" Loved that big, cocky grin he got as he slid under the blanket and put his head on my lap.  He wrapped his arms around my legs and I hugged in around his shoulders. Lips on his temple and whispering to him: "You know you're the best, right?"

"Yeah. Don't like to brag, though, love. Sounds better when you say it."

Ah, Terry. He was so sweet when he was this way. I held him for a long time and let him talk it out. We both knew it didn't really resolve everything for him. But he'd held it in so long and just getting it out in the open was good for him. And it was a reminder of a time when we'd both been willing to be vulnerable with each other. When we'd shared secrets about things we hadn't unloaded on anyone else in the Game. But everything changes ... we both had others in our lives who now got the majority of that type of secret. Why was that a sad thing?

"I've missed this, Terry," I told him when he'd been quiet for long enough that I knew he was finished. 

"There's a part of me you have that no one else does, Annie. It's a big reason why I need you."

"Terry? Where are we going from here?"

He turned on his back and looked up into my eyes. So serious. "It won't be like before when all we had to worry about was each other. Can you still do this? With Uma and Jack in the picture?"

"I just want time with you. I think I can take it as I can get it. As long as every time I look in your eyes, I know you still crave me like I crave you. When we're together, it'll just be about us, won't it? An escape from the storm, I think."

Quick grin at me. Cocky voice again. "You'll need a port in the storm called Captain Aubrey."

I pinched him hard. "Don't you dare pick on Jack! Not since you've got your own storm named Hurricane Uma. It's had its amusing moments, watching her lead you a merry chase."

Yelping out at me, like I'd mortally wounded him, while I grinned at his overreaction. "Bloody Christ, woman. That's gonna leave a bruise."

"Thought you were tough, Mr. Thorne. Little girl like me can hurt you?"

"Apologize. I'll make you sorry if you don't."

"Goodie. That sounds like fun."

"You forget. I know all your weaknesses."

"Not all of them."

"Enough."

And before I knew it, I was shrieking as he hauled me off the bed, hoisted me over his shoulder and marched into the bathroom. I heard the shower start and knew he was getting ready to dunk me under cold water because Terry knows if there's one thing I cannot stand, it's being cold.

Begging him as he put me on my feet, wrestling the shower door closed and putting my body in front of it to keep him from opening it and tossing me inside. Begging him some more as he touched me because I knew he was strong enough to do it anyway if he wanted.

Begging him in a different way when his body leaned in against mine and I saw a new light in his eyes. Begging him with my body as much as with my now-whispered words of entreaty.

Feeling renewed and clean. He has that ability, Diary. Just the feel of him when he's like this. Intense, hard, focused. Hint of danger, touch of mystery. Rough enough to thrill, experienced enough to electrify.

Waiting for the coming. Waiting for the release. 

I watched him come into me. Leaning on one strong arm against the wall, the other around my hips to hold me tight to his groin. He let me watch him, knowing I was seeing, wanting me to see. Giving me the gift of seeing how free he felt to pump into me with ferocity, to lose his way inside what we had between us. To revel in it, knowing this was what I most needed from him.

My eyes came up to find his. He let me watch him come. Let me see the Terry I have often wondered if he ever lets anyone else see. Did he let other women witness the struggle? The softness in him even at his hardest moments? The way he can die in your arms if you'll let him? If he's sure you'll catch him before he falls? One woman now saw it all but I didn't want to admit that just then. Just then, I wanted to believe only I ever saw this small part of him. I wanted to have something of him no one else did.

"Keep me safe, amant," I panted out to him, my eyes finding his soul right where I knew it was.

"Come with me, baby. I've got you." Teeth gritted, grinding out the words as he ground into me below. I was so close. Sending me over the edge with a whimpered, "Come now, Annie. Come for me."

It's so hard for me to admit when I've made a mistake. But, in my defense, I have to say that I am long past the time when I can regret the past. You make your decisions based on what you know at the time and what I knew then was that I wasn't strong enough to lose what we had and watch him give those parts of himself to another woman instead. I was only strong enough to let it go, knowing he'd find in Uma the woman who was his match in this Game. I wasn't wrong about him and Uma.

She's the one woman who understood how the loss affected me because she not only loves Terry, but she matches my obsession for Terry with one of her own.

And this sacrifice of hers, sending Terry to me? She did that for me because she knew I needed to face the truth of what Terry represents to me. She did it for Terry because she knew he needed me as well as her. She did it for herself because she needed the final test of what she has with Terry. And because it makes it possible for her to seek out the answer to the one remaining question she has in the Game - if Maximus can fulfill critical needs in her that Terry cannot.

One thing I've discovered, I have told her, is that there are parts of Terry that I don't want, thank you very much. I don't want a lot of what he gives to her and which she does want - the ordinary, wash-his-underwear aspects of a relationship. I want the Terry who'll remain capable of giving me the fantasy. The Terry who makes me so nervous when I first see him that I wonder if I can make it one more minute in his presence. Whose lips against mine make me breathe easier and whose kiss takes my breath away. Who can make me weak with one whispered comment but who needs me to be strong enough to hear a few of his secrets.  Who treats me like he's always worried I might break but who is determined to break me down into nothingness when he makes love to me.

There's another thing, and it's Uma who's seen it first. Terry and I are a lot more alike than you might realize, Diary. I should really have seen it from that first visit. That business trip we took then? We learned a lot about each other. We're both good in a crisis. We both would rather negotiate something that will make everyone happy but if you won't play fair, we can be pretty ruthless to get the right thing accomplished. We both instinctively hide until we trust others. I hide behind the written word and my ability to evade questions. Terry hides behind the spoken word and his ability to appear invincible. For both of us, the act of revelation is the ultimate fear of taking an irrevocable step with another person. It's hard to gain our trust but once you have it, you have us.

Diary, a last confidence. Terry thinks everything's resolved with us. I hope he's right. But deep in my nights, I fear I'm still a bit too complicated for that. Come now! We both know I'm very much a work in progress. But I do try. I just don't always succeed.