by Anthology
Gwen’s stomach twisted. Oh, no. This couldn’t be anything good.
“I know you think that we can’t sleep together because we’re co-workers. But…” He hesitated. “But what if we were more than that?”
Gwen swallowed hard. She thought she knew where this was going, and she dreaded what he would say next.
“Gwen,” he said her name solemnly. “Will you be my girlfriend?”
Why did he have to ask? Hadn’t she made it clear that she just wanted to be friends? Now she was going to have to hurt him, and that was the last thing she wanted to do. She gently extricated her hand from beneath his.
“Connor, I…” His face fell at her tone, but she had to press on. “I can’t be with you. I’m sorry.”
His brow furrowed. “Why? If it’s because we work together, I promise it won’t be a problem.”
“Connor—”
“If that’s what’s keeping us apart, I’ll quit. Then you won’t have to worry about it.”
“I can’t let you do that,” Gwen insisted.
“I want to,” he plowed on. “I want to do it for us.”
Gwen took a deep breath. “There is no us, Connor. I just want to be friends.”
There was a loud bang as Connor’s fist came down on the bar. Gwen took a hasty step back, startled by his sudden shift in mood. “Why?” he demanded. “Why are you denying what’s between us?”
“Look, I’m sorry, Connor, but there’s nothing—”
His face turned livid; all traces of the sweet Connor that Gwen knew were gone. “There’s someone else, isn’t there?” he ground out harshly.
Gwen raised her hands in front of her as though to calm a feral animal. “I need you to take a breath, Connor. Calm down.”
He let out a savage growl. “There is someone else. You let me take you out, and now you just toss me aside? You knew I had feelings for you, and you led me on. You’re a filthy slut, Gwen.”
She reeled back as though he had slapped her. There was a moment of stunned silence as he glared at her furiously. She drew in a shaky breath. “I’m leaving now, Connor,” she said, forcing her voice to be steady.
His face fell suddenly. “Gwen, I… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…” He reached for her, but she flinched away. “Gwen, please.” His eyes were shining. “Give me a chance.”
Her heart twisted. It pained her to see how she was hurting him, just like she had been hurt before. She felt sick, disgusted by what she had done to him. “I’m sorry,” she said again.
But the words weren’t enough. Unable to look at his pained expression any longer, Gwen darted for the door, gulping in the cool night air as she ran towards to refuge of her car. She longed to call Damien, to find comfort in his arms, but after what had just happened she felt that she didn’t deserve to be comforted. Had she just left the same scars on Connor that she’d carried for so long? She might not have been serious about him, but it was obvious he’d developed strong feelings for her.
“You’re a filthy slut, Gwen.”
She shuddered, fearing it might be true.
* * *
Gwen was still dejected when she pulled up to Dark Grove the next night. She had almost called in sick again; she wasn’t sure if she could face Damien after she had proven to be such a hypocrite. How could he still care for her if she admitted how she had inflicted the same pain on Connor that she had suffered? She couldn’t bear to see the disapproval in his eyes. Nevertheless, she got out of her car with a resigned sigh and headed for the steps that led up to the plantation’s entrance.
But she never made it there. A hand closed around her shoulder, spinning her away from the stairs. Gwen gasped and struggled to find her footing, but she didn’t get a chance to catch her balance. She was shoved forward, and she barely got her hands out in time to catch herself before she hit the brick wall. There was a hard body at her back, pressing her into the bricks. They scraped the tender skin above her breasts. Her hands scrambled against the wall, struggling to push away from it.
“Damien,” she gasped. “Please, you’re hurting me.”
“Damien? Is that his name? I knew you were cheating on me, you slut.”
Fear spiked through Gwen’s chest. “Connor? What are you doing here?”
“I followed you. I had to know. But I never imagined… How could you come here, Gwen? You’re twisted, sick. I don’t know what I ever saw in you.”
“Connor, please,” her tone was tinged with panic. “Let me go. I know you. You don’t want to hurt me.”
“But isn’t that what you like, Gwen? Being hurt? Why else would you come here?” He wasn’t backing off. She could feel his hot breath on her neck. She renewed her struggles, but a stinging on her palms as the bricks cut into them was her only reward. Her scream was muffled as his hand closed over her mouth.
Instinct took over. She threw her head back and connected sharply with Connor’s face. The impact sent a resounding crack through her own head, but Connor cursed and drew back from her, allowing her just enough room to escape his hold on her. She turned to run, but his hand was in her hair, pulling her back into him sharply.
Gwen screamed as panic washed over her.
“Gwen?” A shout came down to her from the top of the stairs.
“Damien!” She cried as relief washed through her. He ran towards her, jumping down the last five stairs in order to get to her. Connor released her, shoving her aside so that he could get to Damien. She lost her footing and hit the ground hard, her torn palms stinging fiercely as she caught herself on them.
She looked up just in time to see Damien collide with Connor. Fear fluttered in her heart for a moment, but it immediately became clear that slim Connor was no match for him. They both fell to the ground as Damien tackled him.
“Hey! Hey, break it up!” Ryan, the bouncer, was rushing towards them.
But Damien wasn’t listening. He pulled his fist back and brought it down across Connor’s jaw. Gwen let out a little shocked gasp as his head snapped to the side, blood spraying from his lips. Damien drew back for another blow, but Ryan’s arms closed around his shoulders, pulling him off Connor.
“What the fuck, Damien?” Ryan demanded, barely restraining him as he lunged for Connor again.
“He attacked Gwen,” Damien ground out angrily.
Ryan looked down and saw where she was sprawled on the ground. His face hardened. “Well in that case…” He released Damien, clearly giving him his blessing to continue kicking the shit out of Connor.
“Stop!” Gwen cried as Damien advanced on Connor’s still form. “Damien, please!” She had caused Connor enough pain as it was; she couldn’t bear to be responsible for inflicting more damage.
Damien stopped short. He turned away from Connor with a visible effort, but when his eyes fell on Gwen, they softened immediately. He was at her side in an instant, his arms enfolding her as he kissed her cheeks, her forehead, her lips.
“Did he hurt you?” he asked, a hard edge to his voice.
“I’m fine,” she said, worried that if Damien saw her injuries he would go for Connor again.
He pulled back from her, his eyes roving over her suspiciously. They narrowed when he noticed that she had quickly closed her hands into fists. But she couldn’t help wincing as she did so, giving her lie away.
“Let me see your palms,” he demanded, his tone brooking no argument.
Reluctantly, she unfurled her fingers, revealing the angry red scratches that marred her skin. Damien gave a low growl, and he turned to look back at Connor with loathing.
“Don’t,” Gwen said desperately. “Stay with me. Please.”
His gaze fell back on her, and the tension left him immediately. “Always,” he said softly. All the breath left her chest at the one simple word. Did he really mean that?
Out of the corner of her eye, Gwen saw Ryan advancing on Connor. She worried for his safety for a moment, but the burly bouncer only jerked him to his feet. He gripped the front of Connor’s shi
rt and pulled him roughly forward, until Connor’s face was only inches from his.
“I never want to see your face again.” Ryan ground out menacingly. “And if I ever hear that you’ve come near Gwen again,” he continued, “Damien and I won’t stop next time. No matter what Gwen wants. Understand?” Connor nodded vigorously, his eyes wide and fearful. Ryan released him, shoving him away in disgust. “Now get out of my sight before I change my mind.”
Connor turned and stumbled away towards his car. Gwen held her breath until his taillights had disappeared into the distance.
“Can you stand?” Damien asked gently, calling her attention back to him.
“Yeah,” she said shakily. “I’m okay.”
Still, Damien’s hands gripped her shoulders, helping lift her up. Even once she had found her footing, he maintained his hold on her, unwilling to let her go. “Come on,” he said gently, tugging at Gwen’s waist. “Let’s get you home.”
“But my shift…” Gwen protested.
“This isn’t up for debate,” Damien said definitively.
“Don’t worry,” Ryan assured her. “I’ll help Gerald man the bar. Besides, it’s a slow weeknight. We’ll be fine.”
Gwen looked up at the hard lines of Damien’s face and sighed, capitulating. “All right,” she agreed. But it didn’t seem that her consent was necessary, because Damien was already steering her toward his car. “I can drive myself,” she insisted.
Damien looked at her reprovingly. “I didn’t ask if you were capable of driving home,” he said. “I told you that I was taking you, and that’s what I’m going to do.” His expression told her there was no point in arguing, but she couldn’t suppress the unease stirring in her belly. If he came home with her, he was going to force her to explain what had happened. Then he would know what she had done. He would know what a hypocritical, callous bitch she really was. She dejectedly let him help her into his car.
“So,” he said as they drove toward her apartment. “Who the hell was that?”
She closed her eyes, not wanting to have this conversation.
“Gwen?” he prompted.
“His name is Connor,” she hedged, unwilling to give up more information than she had to.
“And who is Connor?” he pressed.
“I work with him.”
She could see his knuckles go white as he gripped the steering wheel hard, frustrated at her reticence. “Why did he attack you?” he demanded.
She was silent for a long moment, and she could practically feel the tension rolling off Damien.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” she said finally, desperate to put off the moment when Damien would leave her in disgust.
“Gwen,” he began roughly.
“Please,” she cut across him. “Just give me time.”
Give me a few more minutes with you before you hate me.
“Fine,” he said, his voice carefully controlled. “If that’s what you need.”
They spent the rest of the drive in silence, Gwen shifting uncomfortably in her seat as dread built within her. How long would Damien allow her to hold her silence? How much more time would she have with him before he forced her to reveal her secret?
She got her answer soon enough. Damien sat beside her on her couch, gently dabbing hydrogen peroxide into her cuts in order to clean them out. The liquid stung as it fizzed into her wounds, but she did no more than hiss in a sharp breath. He worked quickly, and within minutes he had her patched up, her palms covered in Band-Aids.
But when he finished, he didn’t release her hands. Instead, he held them carefully in his, refusing to let her go, to let her escape him. She made the mistake of meeting his dark eyes, and they bored into hers.
“Tell me why, Gwen,” he demanded.
“You said you would give me time,” she protested weakly.
“I said I would give you time if that was what you needed. But I can see that it’s not. You’re hurt. In more ways than one. And you’re trying to bury it again. Haven’t you learned by now that doesn’t work? Don’t you know that you can trust me?” There were lines of anxiety around his eyes, letting her know just how important her answer was to him.
“Of course I trust you,” she said quickly. “But if I tell you… I just… You’ll think differently of me,” she forced out. “And I don’t know if I can bear that.”
He cupped her cheek tenderly. “Nothing you could tell me could make me think less of you,” he promised. He was looking at her with such sincerity that the words came tumbling out of her.
“I hurt him, Damien,” she admitted shakily. “Just like Tom hurt me. I know that pain, and now I’ve done the same to him. I know why he wanted to hurt me in return.”
Damien’s hand fisted in her hair, and he tugged her head back so she was forced to meet his eyes. “Don’t you dare say that, Gwen,” he ground out. “You didn’t deserve what he did to you. Do you understand me?”
“But you don’t know,” she said miserably. “You don’t know what I did to him.”
“Then tell me,” he ordered.
“We… We went out on a few dates. I knew he liked me, but I wasn’t sure how I felt about him. And then I met you…” She forced herself to press on. “I made out with him to try to get you out of my head. But it didn’t work. I knew he wasn’t right for me. And then you and I… Connor thought we were dating, Damien. He felt like I cheated on him. And I know what that feels like.” A hot tear rolled down her cheek.
There, she had admitted it. Her heart twisted as Damien released his grip on her hair and allowed his hand to drop into his lap. His eyes were suddenly clouded over with some emotion that Gwen couldn’t understand.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly.
“What?” She exhaled, completely taken aback by his response.
“I should have asked you if you were involved with anyone. But I wanted you so badly. I wanted you, so I took you. It’s my fault that Connor thought you cheated on him.”
“No, it’s not,” Gwen rushed to his defense. “I agreed to have sex with you; you didn’t force yourself on me.”
“I pressured you,” Damien said hollowly. “Don’t pretend like I didn’t.”
Gwen reached for his hand. “And that’s exactly what I needed,” she insisted. “I needed you to push me, to break down my barriers. I haven’t felt this whole in a long time. I feel like myself again, thanks to you.”
He looked at her skeptically. “But Connor was your boyfriend, and I—”
“He wasn’t my boyfriend,” Gwen interrupted him. “When he asked me out yesterday, I turned him down. That’s how he knew there was someone else. That’s why he followed me tonight. He knew that I’m… that I’m a filthy slut.” She choked on the last words.
Damien’s eyes darkened. “Don’t you ever say that about yourself. Did he call you that?”
She nodded, disgusted with herself.
“Gwen, listen to me,” the Dom commanded. “Nothing he did to you was justified. If he wasn’t your boyfriend, then you weren’t cheating. He had no claim over you. And even if he did, he had no right to treat you as he did, to abuse you. Tell me you understand that.”
“So you don’t…” she began tremulously. “You don’t hate me?”
His arms were around her instantly, pulling her against his hard chest. “Of course not, little sub. How could you think that? I could never hate you. You’re good and sweet and pure. You’re perfect.”
Gwen’s breath hitched. She could scarcely believe it, but he didn’t think that she was a callous bitch. And thinking over his words, she came to realize that he was right. Connor might be hurting, but she didn’t deserve what he had put her through.
She relaxed into Damien, breathing in his intoxicating scent. They held each other for long minutes, perfectly content in one another’s arms. Eventually, Damien kissed the top of her head and pulled back so she could see his face. His expression was serious, almost anxious.
“I want to ask you s
omething, Gwen,” he began hesitantly. “You don’t have to give me an answer now. I’ll give you as much time as you need to think about it. I’ll wait for you.” He took a deep breath. “Will you be my submissive? Mine and no one else’s? I want to be with you exclusively.”
Gwen gasped in delight. “I don’t have to think about it,” she said immediately. “My answer is yes.”
She could feel him smiling as he brought his lips down on her, kissing her fiercely. He crushed his mouth to hers, his lips hard and demanding. She sighed up into him, opening for him, inviting him to take her. His tongue stroked firmly against hers, reinforcing his control of the kiss, his control of her. Bliss coursed through her as warmth bloomed in her chest. Nothing in her life had ever felt so right.
They were finally forced apart by the need to draw breath. Gwen leaned her head against his shoulder, closing her eyes as Damien ran his fingers through her curls. She wanted nothing more than to lie here with him forever, safe and warm in his arms. But exhaustion was pulling her under; she was utterly worn out by the night’s events.
“I think it’s time we took you to bed, little sub,” he said quietly.
Gwen looked up at him imploringly, clinging to him. “Will you stay with me?”
Damien smiled at her gently. “Always.”
The End
About Julia Sykes
Julia Sykes is the USA Today bestselling author of the Impossible Series. She has always kept dark stories tucked away in her mind, so she was thrilled when she discovered that other people actually want to read them. Her books blend romance, suspense, and BDSM.
After spending four years living in England, Julia returned to her Southern homeland. She has recently settled down in South Carolina and spends her time petting her cat-children, reading, and binge watching TV with her husband when not writing. You can usually find Julia in Starbucks with a venti iced coffee clutched in her hand.
