Mark Jackson's marriage is over. He drifts into a small, Australian coastal community where he finds comfort and emotional security in the arms of Sue, a young woman separated from her husband. Mark's fragile stability is shattered after Sue is torn away from him.
When Ingrid Thompson enters Mark's emotionally turbulent world, their mutual attraction enflames them both. Ingrid, a successful manager, had not yet found a lover worthy of the gift of her submission.
Will Mark prove to be worthy as they begin to explore the world of loving Domination and submission?
“I love this place!” the man stated quietly to his companion. He let out a long, satisfied sigh that reflected his contentment. The young woman in the passenger’s seat just smiled across at him.
“Much more than you like me, I’d say!” she replied, and she tugged his hair until he looked across at her. She smiled and shook her head when he did not deny this. They both knew it was true.
He smiled back at her and ran his fingers gently down her cheek. “So, I’m a heartless bastard! But I’ve known the beach far longer than you. Maybe over more time you’ll grow on me,” he paused for effect, “a bit like a fungus!”
He laughed and was smart enough to lean away from the whack she gave him before taking her hand and kissing her fingers. He kept her fingers against his lips as he settled back down to take in, once again, the view below them.
His battered 4WD sat on top of a sand hill, looking out-of-place among the wind-stunted paperbark trees and the maze of spiky dune grasses. Below it, curving almost as far as the eye could see lay the white-gold sands of Birdie Beach. Far off in the distance, this beach merged seamlessly into The Lakes Beach before ending suddenly in a tall jumble of rocks at Norah Head. From their parking place, they could see the red and yellow beach flags of the surf club, where he was a volunteer. Halfway along The Lakes Beach they could see the indistinct shapes of people spending their morning on the beach near town. The rising heat haze of an usually hot Australian spring made these shapes wobble eerily.
A mile directly out to sea from the car lay the small island after which the beach was named. Birdie Island was little more than a stubborn rock that dared to defy the continuous swells sweeping in from the Pacific Ocean.
Mark Jackson was tall and made fit by his love of the water. Time had flecked his brown hair with silver. He casually searched the ocean below him. He was at peace here. He was relaxed in the company of the young woman beside him. Here, he could forget the bitterness he still felt over his separation and pending divorce. Here, he could push to the back of his mind his recurring worry over the periods of black depression that had swamped him whenever he had let his guard down in those first months after he left the family home.
“I think, when my marriage fell apart, Sue, I would’ve given in to the deep despair I was feeling if I hadn’t been able to connect again to the beach and the ocean. Here, I can just be.”
She just nodded toward him and stroked through his hair, as he became lost inside his introspection.
Several minutes later, she drew him back to her with a light finger traced across his bottom lip. As his eyes re-focused and he turned toward her, she smiled at him and ran her finger gently down the side of his face before tracing the line of his jaw across to his chin.
“I love touching you. You have a quiet, reassuring strength.”
He just smiled, a little uncomfortably, at the compliment. “Well, I kinda like you, too, in case you hadn’t noticed! And I’m so glad we met that Friday night at the local pub.” He kissed her hand softly. “We both needed someone who could drive the loneliness away, someone who cared. You were that for me, Sue, and you still are.”
