See You Sometime:Suncoast Society

By: Tymber Dalton

Divorced from her Master husband of fifteen years, Skye moves back to Sarasota to live with her parents and rebuild her life. New job, new kinky friends, and she reconnects with her D&D buddies from high school. Including her old boyfriend, Axel.

Axel’s been divorced for a couple of years and realizes he’s pretty much given up on dating. He also knows most of his D&D friends are kinky, and they assume he’s a straight-laced guy. When Skye returns to his life, he doesn’t dare hope there might be a possibility they can make things work now that they’re all grown up. Or can they?

Sometimes, the second chance is the sweetest…and the one best able to destroy you. Axel soon realizes if he can’t figure out how to give Skye what she needs, there are plenty of guys who will. But if he has to say good-bye to her a second time, he’s not sure his heart will recover.

Chapter One

You gotta be shittin’ me.

Skye Bauer stared at the cloud of steam rolling out from under the open hood of the overheating engine of the rental box truck.

Said rental box truck which currently held all her worldly possessions.

She stared up at the blue Atlanta-ish sky and screamed as southbound traffic merrily whisked by her on I-75, the wind from their passing whipping stray strands of her long, curly red hair that had escaped her ponytail holder.

She screamed.

And screamed.



This was the latest in a string of mishaps to plague her as she made her permanent break from one Kelly—short for Kellog—Carling of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.

Here she thought she was finally—finally!—home free, next stop Sarasota, and…


She screamed again, walked around to the passenger side, and kicked the damn front tire with her right foot.

Which made her scream again, this time in pain, as she caught her outer ankle on the edge of the fender, whacking it good.

“Son of a bitch!”

Barksley, her fuzzy little mop of a dog, watched her from inside the cab, his feet up on the door, nose pressed against the window and his tongue hanging out as he panted in excitement.

Mom looks like she’s having fun!

She limped around in a circle for a minute before carefully making her way to the driver’s side and getting in. With her luck, she’d get plowed into by a damn semi at this rate. At least this section of the interstate south of Atlanta had a wide shoulder. She’d pulled the truck over all the way onto the grass past the concrete. If worse came to worst, she could unload her car, which was on a hauler behind the truck and also full of stuff, and drive it.

After calling the 800 number on the rental agreement and reporting her problem, she flipped on the emergency flashers, rolled down the windows, wrapped Barksley’s leash around her hand so he didn’t try something stupid like jumping out, and shoved her seat as far back as it would go to wait for a tow.

Her first divorce attorney had died—only three days after Skye had filed for divorce.

He’d been highly recommended and reasonably priced.

He’d also had a part-time secretary who did little more than take phone messages for him.

And he hadn’t had a business partner in his practice.

Meaning she’d had one hell of a time getting her paperwork from the guy’s family so she could get another attorney to take over without losing all the money she’d already paid.

It was bad enough they wouldn’t give her at least a partial refund minus the filing fees.

Then the first process server, who’d already been hired and paid by the old attorney, got carjacked before he could serve her ex.

The day of the first hearing before the judge, it was postponed due to the courthouse being closed down from a water main break.

The postponed hearing was postponed again because of an escaped prisoner from one of the criminal courtrooms putting everything on lockdown, no one in or out, including her, her attorney, and Kelly—short for Kellog—and his attorney, who were caught outside the cordon area.


The divorce had finally—finally!—gone through, and then she’d lost her job a week later as a medical biller for a doctor’s office because the good doc got popped in a child sex sting operation.

I can really pick ’em.