Touch: The Complete Series

by Cara Dee

  Too rough, right. "That’s cute." Walking her over to the girl at coat check, I ask to borrow a set of handcuffs.

  "Cade!" Gabriella tries to pull herself free over and over, and she hits my arm when I knock her wrist to the nearest wall and slap one of the cuffs on her. "Oh my God, stop it!"

  Ray at the door chuckles. "Let this be a lesson, people," he tells the half a dozen people watching. "Our dungeon monitors mean business."

  In-fucking-deed. She's no match for me, and it doesn't take much to attach the other cuff to the hooks meant for subs who come here as pets. Bratty kittens and puppies have been attached to this wall while their Owners go to the bathroom ever since Nicholas opened Switch.

  "Now I know you'll be here when I get back." I leave a seething Gabriella alone and jog up to the second floor to get my shit. I don’t make a habit of bringing an extra helmet, so I'll have to break a couple laws tonight.

  Returning downstairs, I put on my jacket and tell Ray's sub to issue an alert for Gabriella.

  "She's banned?" the girl asks sadly. She taps a few keys on the computer and pulls up a form. "Violations, Sir?"

  "Repeatedly ignoring the terms of use." I uncuff Gabriella and grab her hand as I give back the cuffs. "Willfully disrespecting superiors… Did I forget anything?" I raise a brow to Gabriella. She's glaring at the floor. "Oh—interrupting scenes."

  "Yikes." The girl types it all down. "Um, I need a photo."

  I grip the back of Gabriella's neck and position her in line with the webcam attached on top of the computer. "Smile, princess."

  She flushes in anger. "Fuck you."

  "Duration, Sir?" the girl wonders.

  "Six months, but—"

  "That’s unfair!" Gabriella exclaims. "Six months?"

  I shoot her a glare, getting heated. She doesn’t wanna deal with me then, that’s for fucking sure.

  "Six months," I grit out, sliding my gaze back to the girl, "but she can visit if she's accompanied by a DM. Actually, make that me. She's allowed to be here if she arrives with me. I'll be responsible for her."

  "Understood." The girl nods. "That’s it. Gabriella's now banned." She offers Gabriella an apologetic look, which isn't necessary. The girl hasn’t done anything wrong.

  "Thanks, hon." I rap my fingers along the counter and hand Gabriella my helmet. "Let's get your clothes, and then we're leaving."

  *

  "Can you upsize that shit?" I pull out my wallet.

  The cashier nods. "Of course, sir."

  I pay for my meal and stand aside while I wait for the food. Gabriella stays outside and looks appropriately fuming about the detour. It makes me grin to watch her struggle with the helmet. Now that I've simmered down, it's just fun seeing her pissy.

  Eventually, she stomps inside and joins me. "You could've done your Mickey D run after you dropped me off." She huffs.

  She thinks I'm taking her home to her place.

  "I was in the mood for fries." I shrug.

  "Gross." Folding her arms over her chest, she scowls at the world like the teenager she was a few years ago. "Your bike's uncomfortable, by the way."

  No need to get nasty. My bike's just fine.

  "You know what else would be uncomfortable?" I drawl. "If I flipped up your skirt and turned your ass red in front of these strangers."

  "You wouldn’t."

  I would, and I think she knows it. I'm shameless. She's not, judging by how she inches away from me and zips up her sad excuse for a jacket. Looks like something a doll would wear. Same size, anyway.

  We're back on the road soon enough, and she holds my food trapped between us while I head toward the outskirts of the city. The engine rumbles as I speed up, at which Gabriella fists my jacket harder.

  Moments later, I hear her yelling over the roar.

  "You missed the exit, dumbass!"

  I don’t answer, continuing straight ahead. A plan's forming in my head, and she'll regret all the venom she's been spitting my way soon.

  By the time we reach the edge of the subdivision where I have my shop, I can practically taste Gabriella's seething.

  She's first off the bike, and she tears off the helmet with a snarl. "What the hell, Cade!"

  "There's been a lot of yelling my name tonight." I dismount my precious Harley. "None of the good kind, either—Hey!" My arm shoots out just when she was about to throw my helmet on the ground. "Fucking watch it."

  She knows she almost went too damn far there. She's in a shitty place—I get it—but I have limits.

  She swallows and looks away from me, holding the helmet and my food securely now. "I wanna go home." Sounding more tired than angry, she gives me a wide berth to open the garage and push my bike inside.

  "That’s too bad. You'll be staying with me for a while." I gesture for her to enter so I can shut the garage again.

  She gives me an exasperated look, almost pleading, and sets my helmet down on my workbench. "You can't make me do that."

  "You're right, I can't." Up the spiral staircase, I think of Mark and the others who have basically babysat her while I was on the East Coast. I think of her subbie friends who are worried. "I believe you'll stay anyway."

  Furthermore, I think of everything she could've done if she's seriously trying to get hurt. Whether she wants to punish herself for some unknown reason or if she simply doesn’t give a shit anymore, Switch is the wrong place for her to do that. Sure, the Sadists and the more hard-core Tops can make her suffer. They can give her hell.

  They'll also insist on aftercare and making sure she's all right. We vet our guests properly at Switch, and regardless of how unsafe certain kinksters choose to play at home or at private parties, no one will stand for anyone being harmed at the club.

  So coming around there to be a menace… My gut says it's a fucked-up cry for help.

  "Why would I do that?" Gabriella extends the bag of food to me, and I set it down on the kitchen counter.

  "Because you don’t wanna end up losing your friends for good." I toss my jacket on the table and run a hand over my hair. Short as it is, it stands in every direction after the ride home with no helmet. "That's where you're heading, princess."

  I sit down at the table and kick out a chair for her to join me. Then I dig around the McDonald's bag for my burger, large fries, and my shake. Strawberry ain't my flavor, though I know someone who loves it. Someone who was adamant about not being hungry. I've heard that before.

  "Everyone's worried about you." I unwrap my burger and take a big bite, and I watch her mulling over what I tell her. "What John did to you, hon…? He wouldn’t look pretty if I got my hands on him. But you gotta stop pushing away those who've done nothing wrong."

  "I'm not pushing them away," she says defensively, albeit weakly. She's a smart girl. She can't talk herself outta this one using the logic she's lived by the past three months.

  I give it to her bluntly. "By behaving like an obnoxious little bitch, you kind of are."

  That works, and she turns away as her cheeks burn.

  Fingers crossed she doesn’t have the energy to fight anymore. The help is right in front of her. Me, her friends—she's not alone.

  "Excuse me." She stands up abruptly and heads for the bathroom, the only place she can find privacy.

  With an internal sigh, I set down my burger and hesitate. Every part of me wants to follow her and offer comfort. But another thought creeps in, and I eye my laptop over by the bed.

  You should fucking be here, Dylan.

  A minute later, I have booted up my laptop, and I'm shoving fries into my mouth as I struggle to form an email to Dylan.

  Dylan,

  Get your head out of your ass and call Gabriella. I don’t even care about you and me anymore, but—

  Nope. I erase that. I do care—way too much for my liking—and I won't lie.

  When I hear sniffling coming from the bathroom, the words come quickly. Short, to the point, because I have more important things to deal with.


  Dylan,

  Call Gabriella. She needs you.

  Cade

  *

  "Are you feeling better?" I give her a squeeze and press a kiss to the top of her head.

  "A little," she croaks. She snuggles closer. "I'm so tired."

  I have a feeling she's not saying that because it's late.

  Getting her out of the bathroom earlier took surprisingly little effort. Falling into my arms, she'd let me carry her to bed, where I spent the next hour consoling her. I can only hope she's letting go of that tough-girl attitude. It's not her.

  "Tell me what's going through your mind," I murmur.

  She exhales shakily and shivers. "Your place is cold."

  I smile into her hair and draw the covers up higher. "I like it cold. Quit stalling."

  "Bossy." She sniffles, though her tone is lighter. "I don’t know what to say. He betrayed me. At first, I blamed myself, and I know I told you I was the one making bad choices—it's hard to explain. I get so mad when I think about all the times I accepted everything he did." She sounds frustrated. "I was in denial for months before I finally walked out, and I guess I'm angry with myself for not facing reality sooner. He always made promises about next weekend and how we'd do something together, and every damn time, I fell for it. One canceled dinner turned into a promise of us going to look at houses the next week, and I'd get my hopes up."

  I brush the last of her tears away from her cheeks, practicing patience before I speak up. I want her to get it all out.

  "He toyed with me…or he just didn’t care," she mumbles. "When he proposed, he told me I was his everything. We put each other first and talked more. Then, all of a sudden, it was 'Daddy has to work so he can pay for your pretty dresses,' and I felt awful. He insisted I wear the damn things, yet the blame was on me?" She gets worked up again. "He was big on guilt. That was the worst, how he made me feel like it was my fault he was away so much."

  I remember that too well. She would be quick to defend John when we questioned his bullshit. We said he was neglecting her; she claimed he was working hard to take care of her, and that she wasn’t easy to be with.

  "It's pointless to dwell on the past." She rubs at her eyes and blows out a breath. "I left when I left, and I know he took advantage of me now. He knew so well how vulnerable I am when I, you know, get more little."

  I nod slowly, having seen enough with my own eyes. Gabriella regresses and lets go of her adult side, allowing her to sink deeply into the mind-set of the young girl who lives inside her. It's part of who she is, a part I've been lucky to experience several times.

  John had no right to make decisions and fuck with her head when she was that exposed.

  "At the same time…" Gabriella falters. "I mean, I don’t miss him. Just the thought of him makes me want to vomit. But I miss who I could be… I hate it, Cade. I don’t want to be a Little anymore." She glances up at me, her eyelashes thick with tears, and she looks so small. "How can I trust anyone not to try to change me again?"

  "You'll get there, I promise." I stroke her cheek and tuck some hair behind her ear. "It'll take time, but I have no doubt you'll learn to trust again."

  She pouts and rests her head on my chest again. "So now I have to suffer these damn headaches. It's hard finding a balance, you know? I was his Little for so long. I could do whatever felt natural—whenever I wanted. Now I don’t know how to keep a lid on it. I just end up angry and upset most of the time."

  It's impossible for me to relate. I am who I am every hour of the day, three hundred and sixty-five days of the year. I don't have to hide anything. Littles do.

  "Do you trust me?" I wonder.

  She furrows her brow and tilts her face up. "Duh."

  I snort a quiet chuckle and tap her nose. "Brat." I know that’s what she is. Hidden and suppressed by John, but I know a playful imp is in there, wanting to jump out with a big, goofy grin. "You can always do what feels natural around me. Whenever and wherever. You know I would take care of you."

  She lowers her gaze and bites her lip. "I don’t know… Wouldn’t that be weird?"

  "Why would it be weird?"

  "You and Dylan." She shrugs a little. "I feel safe with you, but I'd probably worry about being in the way, and…like, you're hung up on him, and you'd wish I were him—"

  "Don’t ever think that, princess." I press my lips to the crease between her brows. "I'm not sure what exactly it is we're discussing right now. If it's you regressing with me, I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t care about you—if I didn’t want to be there for you."

  I'm unsure of how to broach the rest, mainly because I don’t know where her mind is at. Is it about sex? Or would it be strange for her because she and Dylan are—or were?—such close friends?

  "I'm not a non-sexual Little. What if I cross a line?" She cringes. "Ugh, it's weird talking about it."

  I let out a low laugh and hug her to me. "You're too fucking adorable, Gabriella." Easing away, I grip her chin to make sure she looks me in the eye. "I'm very aware of you not being a non-sexual Little." I pause, hoping I get this out right. "Would I be down to fuck you first thing tomorrow morning? I highly doubt it, but it has nothing to do with desire. You're a gorgeous girl, one I've been attracted to since day one."

  Fuck me if she doesn’t blush.

  "And yeah, I'm hung up on Dylan, as you put it," I go on. "I won't deny that, but keep in mind, we had an open arrangement." She of all people should know that. Thinking back on the two occasions they scened together at Switch… In-fucking-describable. "I wouldn’t have enjoyed seeing you and him together if there was no desire."

  She bobs her head slowly, eyes fixed on my wife-beater. "I think I understand."

  That’s good, but I'm not done. "So here's what I'm thinking. No one would be more honored than me if you felt comfortable enough to lean on me, whether you regress or not. And the rest, we'll take it as it comes. You focus on relaxing and feeling better. It wasn’t long ago you ended a relationship you thought was going to last forever."

  With the past three months in mind, where Gabriella rebelled, lived destructively, and buried her pain, I can't see her thinking about sex anytime soon. She may have been able to lie to herself for a while, and I sure as hell haven't forgotten she offered up herself on a platter to me a couple days ago, though that was before tonight. Before she stopped pretending.

  I'm hopeful that's over now. It appears to be.

  "Can I think about this?" she asks softly.

  "Of course." There's no rush. "Take all the time you need. But you're staying here for now, yeah?"

  "Um, sure… I can do that, but…why?"

  That’s an easy one. "For one, I've felt protective of you since John began neglecting you, and I'd feel better having you here until I know you're okay. For two, you need some structure back in your life." That comes with a raised brow from me when she peers up.

  "That, uh…" She twists her lips. "That sounds like there will be rules."

  My chest rumbles with a laugh. "You can bet your sweet little ass there will be rules."

  I'll be starting fresh with her. I have a shitload of questions about her thought process, her recent history at Switch and how she's played, her physical health as well as mental, and whatever else I'll think of.

  Gabriella buries her face against my chest. "Thank you for giving a crap, Cade. I don’t want to feel like this anymore."

  "We'll get through it together, princess."

  Chapter 5

  Over the next couple of days, Gabriella keeps to herself a lot. She borrows my truck to get some clothes and personal belongings from her place, and then she retreats to be alone on my roof.

  There's nothing up there, and it wasn’t designed to be some swanky roof terrace or anything. But Gabriella brings up a plant, an old rug, and a beanbag, sitting there for hours on end with a book or her journal.

  I have orders to catch up on, so I'm stuck in the garage most of the time. Unlike when I'm alone, thoug
h, I push up the door so Gabriella can hear the radio playing. Every now and then, I hear her hollering her opinions on my shitty taste in music.

  It makes me grin.

  Kids these days don’t appreciate the oldies.

  As I ease fine sandpaper over a carved piece of oak—which, when ready, will be a whipping post for a fetish club in Sacramento—I hit up Mark and Rio to give them an update. One earbud in my ear, the other one dangling inside my T-shirt, I tell them I'll be at Switch as scheduled this weekend, and I'll be bringing Gabriella. Nicholas has told them she's banned from being there alone, so Mark's the first one to offer to keep an eye on her if I get busy. And Rio says he's more than happy to help me instill some respect in Gabriella again.

  "She scared the bloody hell out of me once when she asked a Top to choke her out," he tells me. "If she'd been mine, I would've strung her up and beaten her senseless."

  I chuckle. "I'm glad I wasn’t there. I'm too young to have a heart attack."

  I appreciate my buddies. They all want what's best for Gabriella, and they've been frustrated to stand on the sidelines and watch helplessly. She's her own person, and their hands are tied unless she violates the rules.

  "Well, I'm glad she has you now, mate," Rio says. "Have you spoken to the others?"

  I nod even though he can't see me. "Just got off the phone with Mark. I'll call Nick later."

  "All right, that’s good." He pauses. "Have you and Gabriella discussed her previous scenes? The ones I supervised… I kept waiting for her to safeword."

  We've covered some of it. Last night at dinner, I learned she's only sought out Tops for impact play and pain. I brought up going through a physical so she could get tested, something we encourage regularly, but she said it wasn’t necessary. She did that twice after leaving John, and she hasn’t been with anyone sexually since then, which I'll admit surprised me. And maybe pleased me.

  "We haven't talked about specific scenes, but she's told me her reasoning." Brushing my hand along the smooth surface of my work, I inspect it critically and closely before deeming it ready for the finish. "She spoke to masochists who raved about being punched into subspace—quite fucking literally—and she wanted that, too. In my day, we smoked pot to numb pain."