Leo Southworth was named after a brilliant constellation in the sky. Maybe that’s why his entire life he’d been fascinated by things beyond his reach. And why his teachers had always told him to get his head out of the clouds.

Maybe he liked rope bondage because it kept him tied to the earth. And maybe he’d enjoyed the suspension because sometimes, when he was blindfolded, gagged, and his ears plugged—all sounds beyond his inner core stifled—it felt like he was floating free in space. Right up there with the stars.

Until the night he fell to earth and his hip was shattered. All his dreams sort of flew out the window that night and he was still trying to find a way to get them back. Leo gazed up at the night sky. It was a clear night and the stars shone brightly.

Blip.

He turned to look at the laptop screen.

Can you talk?

Leo limped over to the desk and eased down in the chair. He rested his cane against the desk, within reach.

I’m here, he typed in and hit return.

Up popped Sirras’s avatar. God, Leo loved that image. But this was more than a simple avatar…hot burnt orange, flames licking at the edges, a blend of flame and male body, indistinct face, broad shoulders, each muscle defined by brilliant fire. The image undulated on the screen. Moving pictures. The head was in profile, a flirt of appeal, eyes hooded. And then the eyes opened to look directly at Leo.

“Want to play?” the deep voice asked.