by Roni Loren
Maybe if those cravings came from a pure place, he’d be okay with it. He didn’t look at the other submissives at the Ranch as if they were screwed up. People were kinky just like people were gay or bi or asexual. It was a part of who they were. He wished his desires were like that—just something that was. But he couldn’t help but see the imprint of his father on all this. His dad had taught him with violent fists and degrading words that you could never show weakness. Victory was in taking it and never flinching, in not giving the other person the satisfaction of getting to you. You could not break.
And Gibson never had. He’d had sessions with dommes where he’d been blind with the pain but he never let go, never orgasmed in session, never went to that place he knew others sought, that oblivion of subspace. He couldn’t surrender. The gratification was in surviving it.
But Sam wouldn’t want that. She’d want his full surrender.
It was something he didn’t have to give. Just thinking about letting go like that put a pit in his stomach.
Grant stopped by his table and clapped him on the shoulder, breaking Gibson from his thoughts. “Hey, stranger, haven’t seen you around in a while.”
Gibson glanced up, trying to clear the scowl he felt himself wearing. “Hey, man. Yeah, work’s been crazy. Kade opened up a new Mediterranean concept and the launch has sucked up all of my time. How’ve you been?”
Grant smirked. “On the verge of a nervous breakdown. Charli’s pregnant and for some reason, she thinks she can continue on with her life as normal and has dismissed my plan to keep her locked in our bedroom and off her feet for the next six months.”
Gibson laughed, knowing the overprotective Grant was probably only half joking about this plan. But Gibson also knew Charli, and there was no way that woman would put up with being Rapunzeled. “I can’t imagine why she’d have a problem with that. But congratulations, that’s fantastic news.”
“Thanks.” He took the seat next to Gibson. “So are you here for a paid session or something else? I’m only asking because Elise, the woman in white over in the corner, is a new member, and I’d rather pair her with someone who’s a veteran.”
Gibson peered over in the direction Grant had indicated and found a pretty redhead scanning the room, her nerves evident in the stiff set of her spine and tight hold on her glass. Everything about her said newbie. Everything also said submissive. Gibson should’ve jumped at the opportunity. She was attractive, and he enjoyed training new members. But trying to drum up excitement tonight was like rubbing two wet sticks together and expecting a fire. “I’m not sure what I’m here for, to be honest.”
Besides his brother and his friend Pike, Grant was the only other person who knew about Gibson’s occasional private sessions with the paid dommes.
Grant gave a grunt of acknowledgement and then nodded toward the entrance on the far side of the room. “Maybe she’s more in line with what you’re looking for this evenin’?”
Gibson turned his head, expecting to see Janessa or one of the other regular dommes who worked there, but instead Sam strolled in. Sam. Just the sight of her gave him a swift kick in the gut. She’d changed out of her work clothes into snug black pants and a corset, torturing Gibson with curves and smooth flesh and brash confidence. Good God, she was something to behold. But as she moved farther into the room and he got a better look at her face, his appreciation of the view switched into something else entirely.
The Sam he’d left in the bar was not the woman here now. Her eyes were puffy and devoid of the smoky makeup she’d been wearing earlier, and one side of her face looked red and swollen. She’d been hurt. He jumped to his feet so quickly, his chair nearly tipped backward. “What the hell?”
Grant stood as well, probably noticing the same things he had.
Their sudden movements must’ve caught her eye because she turned Gibson’s way. Her eyes widened for a moment, and then she spun on her heel and headed in the other direction. But he was only a few strides away and picked up speed.
He caught up to her and put his hand on her shoulder. “Sam, wait.”
She tensed beneath his fingers. “You’re not supposed to touch anyone without permission here. Let me go.”
He didn’t give a shit about the rules right now. He stepped around her, blocking her path. Up close, the damage was even worse. Her cheek was definitely swollen, her lip puffy, and she’d been crying. His spunky, upbeat Sam, crying. Something primal and protective surged in him.
“Baby.” He reached for her cheek. “What the hell happened?”
She ducked away from his touch, her jaw twitching. “Nothing. I’m fine.”
He dropped his arm to his side but didn’t move away. “Bullshit. Talk to me.”
Grant stopped a few steps back, listening but not interrupting.
“I’m fine,” she repeated, her fists clenching at her sides.
“You’re hurt.”
“It’s nothing.”
“Sam,” he said, warning in his tone.
She looked away, her stance steely. “Fine. The guys who gave me trouble at the bar tonight were waiting for me when I walked to my car, all right? Shitty end to the night.”
Gibson’s stomach plummeted, and anger ripped through him like a wildfire. “They did this to you?” He closed the space between them, searching her face, wanting to run his hands all over her to make sure everything was intact but knowing he needed to tread carefully. “God, baby, did they—”
“Angie chased them off before they could do any worse than this. I have a few bruises and a ripped shirt. I’ll survive.”
Gibson let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, but rage still beat through him hard and ugly. Those fucking inbreds had hurt Sam, had scared her, would’ve done worse if someone hadn’t been there to interrupt. “I’m going to kill those fuckers.”
“They won’t get caught. And even if they did, the charges would be minor.” She shook her head, a haunted look flashing through her eyes before she covered it. “Look, I’m okay. I got lucky. I just want to forget about it.”
He understood that desire, but he wasn’t buying that she was fine. Her pulse was jumping against her throat and her gaze was darting around the room like she expected someone to jump out. The woman was spooked. He put his hands on her shoulders, feeling the slight trembling in her body. He wanted to pull her to him, tell her she was safe with him, that he’d never let anyone hurt her again. But she’d only shove him away. The Do Not Enter signs were screaming from every corner of her expression. “Tell me what I can do. Why don’t we go to my cabin? I’ll get you a drink and we can talk. Or I can drive you home so that you can get some rest.”
She tipped up her chin, eyes flashing with defiance. “I don’t need a drink or to talk or to sleep. That’s not why I came all the way out here, and you know it. I need a sub.”
He frowned. “Baby, you can’t just—”
“Don’t tell me what I can’t do, Gib. I’ve had a bad night, and I know what I need. I need a submissive.” Her tone was flinty, her gaze drilling into him. “Preferably one without a lot of limits.” She leaned into his space. “You volunteering?”
People were starting to turn their way, watching the exchange—the petite domme and the guy everyone knew as a dominant. Eyebrows were lifting. His neck heated. His body was responding to her hard tone, the challenge in her eye, but he tamped the instinct down. “Sam, you know I don’t—”
The door slammed shut, her expression shuttering.
“Fine.” She pushed her shoulders back and then stepped around him. “Be a fucking coward, Gib. I was coming here to find Julian anyway.”
The name of the sub sent jealousy burning through him, and he spun around to try to stop her. But Grant stepped in her path instead. He lifted a hand, halting her without touching her. “Easy, there, mistress.”
Sam couldn’t
do anything but stop with the wall of cowboy in front of her. Plus, domme or not, no one challenged Grant. But she held her spine straight and met the man’s gaze. “Please, Grant, I don’t want to talk about it. I’m okay. Let me pass and find Julian.”
Grant frowned down at her, concern filling his face as he evaluated her. “No can do, darlin’. I don’t know exactly what you’ve been through tonight, but I can see that you’re not in a safe state of mind to play with anyone tonight. I won’t allow it. You’re upset and angry. Two things that can cloud your judgment and put your partner at risk.”
Gibson moved closer, and he saw tears well in Sam’s eyes before she blinked them away. “I’m not going to cross any lines. Please, Grant. I need this tonight. I can’t tell you how badly.”
It took everything Gib had not to go to her, take her in his arms. Seeing her so vulnerable and shaken made his chest hurt. And he wanted to strangle the men who’d done this to her.
Grant put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. “I get it, mistress. But I can’t allow it. Not tonight at least. Why don’t you stay in a cabin, get some rest, and we can chat in the morning? Or go with Gibson and have that drink and talk.”
She shook her head, frustration marking her features as she backed away from Grant’s touch. “No. I’m not here to talk. I’ll just go. This was a mistake.”
“Sam . . .” Gibson said. But she was already striding for the door. He lunged for her, but Grant put a hand on his arm, halting him. He shrugged out of Grant’s grip. “I need to go after her, man.”
Grant watched Sam’s retreating form, worry lines around his mouth. “She’s not going to let you help. She’s like an injured horse right now, trusting no one and ready to kick anyone who comes close.”
“That doesn’t mean she doesn’t need help.”
“No. But if you figure out how to convince her to let you in tonight, be careful. She wants to hurt someone, and she’s not thinking straight enough to do it the right way or for the right reasons. She needs a friend tonight, not a sub.”
“I’m not trying to be her sub. I’m just trying to be there for her.”
Grant eyed him. “Sometimes the line between those two can get pretty blurred.”
“I’ll figure it out.” He didn’t want to waste another second and jogged after Sam. She’d just slipped into the hallway when he caught up. “Sam, wait, please.”
She spun around, unshed tears and anger glittering in her eyes. “No, you back off, too. I don’t need to be babied or coddled. And I know that’s all you guys want to do. Pat me on the hand and tell me it’s going to be okay. Well, fuck that. If you want to help me, just leave me the hell alone.”
She turned and pushed through the door that led to the main lobby. He strode after her, the door swinging shut behind him. “I’m not letting you drive home like this. You’re upset. It’s not safe for you to be on the road.”
“Not letting me? Right.” She waved at one of the security guards by the door. “Jack, I’m leaving. I don’t want this man to follow me. I’m calling my safe word.”
Jack stepped forward, his mouth flattening into a sober line. “Of course, mistress.”
Gibson groaned. “Jack, she’s upset and shouldn’t be driving like that. We’re not in a scene. She’s a friend and I’m trying to help her.”
The big guy shrugged. “Sorry, man. Rules are rules. You’re going to need to stay inside until I see her to her car.”
Gibson threw his hands out to his sides. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. Sam, don’t do this. Let me help.”
She turned and peered at him over her shoulder, resignation in her eyes. “I gave you a chance to do that. But you said it yourself. You can’t. There’s nothing left to say. I’ve got to go, Gib.”
She walked out the door with the security guard, leaving Gibson with two other staff members who would uphold the rules just as strictly. And if he was in any doubt, they both sent him don’t-try-me looks to punctuate it. He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, steaming. Fine. She could leave. But he knew where she lived and he’d be damned if he was going to let her be alone tonight.
He’d give her a few minutes’ head start and then he would follow her.
But fifteen minutes later, when the guards allowed him to leave the Ranch, he never caught up with her car. She’d either driven like a bat out of hell or taken an alternate route. No matter. He knew his destination. But when he reached her apartment, her car was nowhere in the parking lot, he got no answer when he knocked on her door, and her phone went straight to voice mail.
The seed of anxiety that had nestled in his gut when he couldn’t find her car on the road bloomed into full-fledged worry. He hit a different button on his phone and called his brother. It was the middle of the night, but maybe Sam had gone to Kade and Tessa’s house. She probably had a key, and Tessa was her best friend. Who better to go to if she needed a shoulder to lean on?
His brother answered on the third ring, groggy-voiced. “Gib? What’s wrong?”
“Is Sam at your place?”
“Sam?” Kade asked like he was trying to make sense of the word. Sheets shifted. “No. Why would she be here?”
“Are you sure? Could she have come in while y’all were sleeping?”
“No. She doesn’t have an alarm code and she knows we’re getting on a plane this morning. Why? What’s wrong? Did something happen? Don’t tell me you messed around with her and pissed her off again.”
“No, it’s not like that. Shit.” Gibson ran a hand through his hair and leaned against Sam’s door. “Sam was jumped outside of the bar tonight.”
“What?”
“She’s okay. Or was, at least. Banged up and freaked out, but okay. I saw her at the Ranch afterward, but she left upset and now she’s not at her place.”
More rustling noises filled the line and Tessa’s voice sounded in the background. “Babe, who are you talking to?”
“It’s Gib,” Kade said. “He said Sam was jumped outside the bar tonight. Have you talked to her?”
“What? Oh my God. Give me the phone.”
Tessa got on the line, and Gibson quickly explained what he knew. Then, without giving her time to ask too many questions, he got straight to the point. “I need to know if you have any idea where she is or where she’d go if she was upset.”
Tessa let out a breath, obviously shaken at the news. “God, poor Sam. She wouldn’t come to me, though. She doesn’t like bringing her problems to other people. When she’s upset, she goes all hermit crab.”
“So why wouldn’t she just come home?”
“Did you knock on her door?”
“Well, I didn’t telepathically send her a message through the wall.”
Tessa ignored his sarcasm. “Did Darcy bark his head off?”
Gibson looked up, the significance of the question settling in, and turned to the door. “No.” He knocked again, harder, louder. Nothing. “No barking.”
Tessa sighed. “Son of a bitch. That girl has a hard head.”
“What?”
“I bet I know where she is. She’s off this week, and she’s been renovating her grandmother’s house in her free time. She probably took the dog and went out to the country.”
“Wait. Her grandmother? I thought she didn’t have any family.” He hadn’t gotten Sam’s whole story, but he knew that she and Tessa had met in foster care.
“She doesn’t anymore. Her grandmother died when Sam was eight, but she found out last year that the house and property had been left to her. It’s about an hour and a half outside of Dallas in the middle of freaking nowhere, and the place is in rough shape. Electricity’s spotty and no cell service. I told her it wasn’t safe to be there at night, but she loves that place. If she’d run anywhere, that’s where she’d go—some place where no one would bother her.”
Sam a
lone in the country, upset, no electricity or phones? Sounded like a seriously bad idea. “I need to know exactly where it is.”
“Gib . . .”
“No, Tess. I get it. You want to protect her privacy. But I saw her tonight. She’s shaken and doesn’t need to be alone.”
“If I leave now, I can go check on her. We’re taking the company jet for the trip. They can hold it.”
“Or I can go out there, and you can go on your vacation. Come on, you know she’s safe with me. I’ll go check on her and get her to come back home. No way should she be staying alone in some ramshackle place. She can have my cabin at the Ranch if she needs a place to get away for a week.”
Tessa was quiet for a moment. “She’ll be seriously pissed at me if I send you out there.”
“Have you seen any horror flick ever made? Single woman alone in the woods in a broken-down house?”
“That’s not playing fair.”
“But it’s true. Come on. Let me help her. I know I screwed things up, but I still care about her and can be a friend to her.”
Tessa let out a beleaguered sigh. “A scared Sam is not a good Sam. She’ll lash out at anyone who tries to help. It’s one of the things that got her kicked out of so many foster placements. I can sometimes get past that wall, but she’s going to be in full-scale defense mode.”
“You don’t think I can handle that?”
“You can’t push her or caveman her. It will make things worse.”
He rubbed his brow, his heart beating fast at the thought of Sam out there alone in the woods. He wanted to push. He wanted to go out there, haul her over his shoulder, and bring her back home with him. But Tessa was right. If he tried that shit with Sam, she’d run farther and faster. He took a calming breath, trying to keep his voice even. “I’ll be whatever she needs me to be in order to get her back home safely.”
“Whatever she needs? You really mean that, Gib?” That was Kade again. Great, they’d put him on fucking speakerphone.
