Break Me Down

by Roni Loren

  “Baby,” Gibson said, the word barely a whisper. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that, that there was no one on your side.”

  She burrowed into his hold, trying to take some of his warmth after the bone-deep chill the memories had caused. “After that, I got placed again. A good family. I had two decent years with them before I managed to fuck that one up by getting involved with their son.”

  “The guy who kept you a secret?”

  “Yeah. Jesse. I was so damn desperate for someone to love me at that point, to look out for me. I thought he was it, but he just wanted a convenient girl to fuck, one he didn’t have to go through the trouble of dating. It was a dumb mistake. I could’ve maybe had a real place with that family. But even so, his parents and a lot of therapy kept me from completely falling apart those years following.”

  Gibson kissed her head. “God, Sam. You are the strongest woman I’ve ever met.”

  She sighed, feeling stripped down and flayed open in the dark, too tired to pretend. “That’s the thing. I’m not. I still talk a good game, and I thought I knew how to protect myself now. But getting jumped outside the bar, it was like I was that kid all over again. I couldn’t do anything.”

  Gibson sighed. “None of us are invincible. You were surprised and outnumbered. You can’t blame yourself for that. Could’ve happened to anyone. But the difference now is that you do have people who care about you. People who are looking out for you. People you can lean on when you need it. You don’t have to do it all alone. You have a family. Tessa. Kade. Your friends at work and at the Ranch.”

  She pressed her lips together, tears burning in her eyes.

  “Me . . .” he said softly, adding his name to the list.

  A smile touched her lips despite the tears. “Do I, Gib? I don’t think I have you at all.”

  His breath coasted over her neck, a world-weary exhale. “You’ve had me from the very start, Sam. From the moment you sent that mischievous smile of yours my way, I was done. It terrifies me. I don’t know how to deal with it. Before you had your nightmare, I was lying here quietly freaking out that you somehow got me to subspace and that there’s video of it. I don’t know how to process what happened tonight or what’s going to happen next. But you have me. Have had me for a long time. I haven’t slept with another woman since I met you, haven’t wanted to.”

  Her breath stalled. “You met me almost a year ago.”

  “Yeah. Believe me, I know.”

  She shifted in his arms, rolling over to face him, shock moving through her. “You’ve played with subs.”

  He looked down at her, hair sticking up in odd directions, a chagrined look on his face. “I’ve trained people. No sex. Lots and lots of masturbation, though. Lots.”

  She laughed, the sound bursting out of her and easing some of the tightness that had settled in her chest. “You’re more of a masochist than I thought.”

  He winced at that.

  She pressed her fingers to the lines that appeared in his forehead. “Why do you do that? Why do you get embarrassed over all this? Obviously, I find your masochism about the hottest thing ever. Second only to your submission.”

  He let his head fall back to the pillow. “I’m sorry. The response is automatic. As much as I try to separate it, I can’t help but assume I’m like this because of my fucked-up childhood. I crave pain and humiliation. There’s only one person who did that to me in my life.”

  She frowned.

  “I don’t want my dad’s fingerprints on my life, Sam—especially my sex life. I feel . . . twisted inside. Two things that shouldn’t go together have gotten horribly intertwined.”

  “Did you enjoy it when your father abused you? Get sexually excited?”

  “What?” He gave her a what-the-fuck look. “Of course not.”

  “Then how is that at all tied to your sex life?”

  He groaned in frustration. “Because the only way I survived it was to make it a game. If I didn’t break, didn’t cry, didn’t fall apart, I won. I wouldn’t let him beat a reaction out of me.”

  Sam’s heart splintered in her chest, imagining the terror Gibson must have endured, imagining the scared little boy he had to have been. How could anyone have looked at those big blue eyes and raised a hand to a child? “And that’s what you do in scenes?”

  He rubbed a hand down his face. “Yeah. I need to endure. Like some extreme sport. But somewhere along the way, that pain morphed into something different. Something that makes me crave it. Turns me on. Until someone tries to get in my head, tries to make me surrender. Then I just feel panicky and sick to my stomach. I get the same feeling at the thought of other people knowing I’m this way. It’s like . . . I don’t know, a phobia or something. Like people who are afraid of spiders know the spider can’t do much harm to them but all their terror buttons are set off anyway. It’s not rational, but it’s all-consuming anyway.”

  She reached out and squeezed his other hand. “Is that how you felt tonight with me?”

  He flopped his head to the side like it was too heavy for him to lift and peered at her. “At first, yeah. But then . . . not.” He frowned. “Tonight was . . . like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. I know I went under. And I did panic. First, when you mentioned you were going to film it and then worse when I realized you were going to force an orgasm out of me. But I was so determined not to safe out that you snuck past some barrier and shoved me over the edge before I realized what was happening. Then I was too far gone. I was . . . all feeling and need. I can’t remember every detail. But when I woke up, a lot of it came rushing back.”

  “It was a wonderful night, Gib.”

  He sighed, the sound full of frustration. “I hear you say that. But lying here, thinking through the things I do remember . . . it’s stirring up that crap again. I don’t want to feel shame, Sam. Especially not with you. But I can’t lie and say that it’s not burning in my gut. I—” He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I rutted like some animal, didn’t have any control over myself. Knowing you have video of it . . . I can’t even think about it.”

  She frowned, hating that old demons were so determined to taint things for him. For them. She laced her hand with his. “And even if I thought it was the sexiest, most beautiful thing ever?”

  A little smile flickered over his lips, but sadness lingered in his eyes. “I love that. I do. I just wish it were enough. Wish I could feel it for myself. Wish I could feel proud of that surrender instead of embarrassed by my lack of control. In my mind, I lost. You bested me. I’m the loser.”

  “You’re never a loser, Gib. Those are your dad’s words talking. I’m supposed to best you in this situation. That’s the fun part. For both of us. You fight. I win. Then we both win. Did you not enjoy it while it was happening?”

  “You know I did. I . . . I’ve never come like that in my life. And getting you off after, the way we did it, I . . . well, if I think about it too long, I’m going to get hard again.”

  That gave her a dart of hope. “So why fight it so much? What if you were like this all along? What if you would’ve been this way even without your dad?”

  “I’ll never know. There was no before. He was always there.”

  She shifted on the bed, trying a different tactic. “Do you think I like control because I was assaulted?”

  His brows quirked. “Is that why?”

  She shrugged. “Maybe it played a part, maybe it didn’t. Like I said, I liked teasing boys from the start, liked that feminine power. But who knows? Doesn’t mean I’m going to deny who I am over it. Those girls win in that case. I know in my gut what turns me on. If it makes me happy, is consensual, and does it for whomever I’m with, then the origin doesn’t matter. No one gets to have that much say over my life.”

  Gibson’s lips flattened into a hard line. “But you standing up and saying, hey, I li
ke to tie up guys and dominate them is a sign of strength. Toughness. For me, I don’t know how to admit that I like the things I like without feeling like a failure as a man, like I’m confirming something others knew all along. That I’m soft or needy or whatever.”

  She would’ve rolled her eyes over the macho issue if not for the pain in his voice. This was a real thing for Gibson. His dad had made him feel less than, damaged, and that had gotten burned onto his psyche. Your mother would rather be dead than deal with all your neediness. How could that not fuck a kid up? She straightened into a sitting position. “Look at me, Gib.”

  He did, effortlessly submissive when his guard was down.

  “You know who’s needy? Goddamned dominants. All that do this for me and this and this. Please me. Serve me. My needs are number one. We must have all the control. We need it. God, how does any submissive put up with us?”

  His lips twitched.

  “So let’s get that out of the way. And, second, you need to hear this. Since that day in the training room—when you completely misbehaved, by the way—I haven’t had another man touch me. There’s been lots of masturbation. Lots.”

  Now it was his turn to show shock.

  “And you know why I want you so much, why I couldn’t move on? Because you’re strong and sexy and smart. And cocky as shit. And you make me laugh.” She laid her hand on his chest. “And because there’s nothing that turns me on more than a guy who’s tough enough and confident enough to give up control to me. I am a dirty and twisted and filthy-minded mofo. I want to hurt you. I want to make you beg. I want to take over your body and make every part of it my own. To see you desperate and coming like you were tonight. Primal and messy and lost to it. I want to push your edges and explore my own. And I want you to be able to love it, too. During and after.”

  His gaze slid away, and she reached out to grab his chin to force him to hold her eye contact.

  “Tonight, how you were, was epically hot, Gibson. It was a fantasy in the flesh for me. You coming all over yourself and roaring like a beast? Hell yes. I will vote for that over and over again. I wish you could let yourself watch that video. If you doubt your strength, your power, just watch yourself, see how beautifully intense you are in submission. Seeing you like that makes me want to thank the universe that you exist, that there’s someone else who gets it. It makes me want to parade you around at the Ranch and show you off because of how fucking lucky I’d be to have a man like you.”

  He closed his eyes.

  She released his chin. “I know that part’s hard for you. It’s okay. That’s what having a relationship involves. I’m dominant, but that doesn’t mean we don’t negotiate and compromise. My penchant for exhibitionism isn’t a deal breaker, Gib. We can play in private. I can respect that it’s a hard limit for you.”

  “That feels like failing you. I don’t want you to have to give up something you enjoy.” His eyes met hers, torment there.

  “It’s okay. I’m telling you I’m willing to compromise there. But I have my own hard limits. And one is that I can’t be anyone’s secret. I lost my virginity to Jesse. While he was fucking me and teaching me the fine art of blow jobs at night, he was parading around his ‘real’ girlfriend at school like she was a princess. It made me feel like I was something to be embarrassed about. So I don’t do secrets anymore. And I won’t be yours. If we do this, people will know we’re together. And they know what I am, so they will make assumptions about you.”

  Regret crossed his face. “I’m so sorry that I put you in that position. You should never have to be anyone’s secret.”

  “No, I shouldn’t. I won’t be. But you have to tell me if you can handle that.”

  A lost look filled his eyes. Like he was already saying good-bye. “I want to, Sam. I want to be able to give that to you. So much. I just . . . don’t know if I can. I . . . Being out in that way terrifies me. And I hate that. Hate that I can’t seem to beat it. I think about it and I want to run.”

  The stark honesty in his voice was hard to argue with. And old instincts wanted to surface. In her life, if someone didn’t want to be with her, she wouldn’t push. You didn’t want to cling to parents who would never adopt you or try to force bonds with foster siblings who didn’t want you there. You didn’t want to set yourself up for that letdown.

  But the yearning in Gibson’s voice was hard to miss. He wasn’t saying he didn’t want to be with her. He was saying he didn’t think he could fix the anxiety. It was the same way she hated how she’d frozen up when those guys had grabbed her. No matter how much she wanted to react a different way, her body had its own ideas. But that was an anomaly. Before she went through self-defense classes, she used to jump at every little thing, panic when anyone touched her too roughly or came up behind her.

  She’d beaten that back by going to classes over and over, letting men and women bigger than her grab her and try to take her down. The more aggressive and violent those practice attacks got, the more her panic ebbed. Her therapist had told her to take things slowly, work up to it. Instead, she’d jumped in and charged through the blinding fear, taking it head-on, having the panic attacks in front of the class and then telling the instructor, Come at me again. Go big or go home.

  It had sucked. It had worked.

  So now as she stared down at Gibson, another idea came to her, one that was steeped in risk and edged in danger. One she was almost afraid to think.

  What if . . .

  Chapter 10

  Sam watched Gibson with careful eyes, wondering if he’d think she was crazy. She probably was. She licked her lips. “Do you really want to, Gib? If you could change things, your reactions, would you?”

  His brow furrowed as he searched her eyes. “Of course I would, baby. If I could change it, I could have you. Be the kind of man you deserve.”

  She reached over and brushed a curl away from his forehead. “You already are.”

  “Sam . . .”

  She leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “You said you panicked tonight. Tell me what made you able to keep going despite it.”

  “I was determined not to safe out.”

  “But you could’ve.”

  His forehead wrinkled. “No. It wasn’t an option. I told myself it wasn’t an option.”

  “So it was like you had no choice. Like you were truly my captive?”

  She watched his expression change and shift as he worked through that. “Yeah. I guess so.”

  “Force.” She traced a finger over the angle of his stubbled jaw, enjoying the chance to just touch him after keeping her distance for so long. “Does that usually play a role in your fantasies?”

  His gaze flicked away briefly.

  “Honesty, Gib.”

  “Sam.”

  “I know it’s hard. Believe me, it’s hard for me, too, especially considering what I’ve been through. But here’s my truth: I find force scenarios insanely hot.” The words fell out of her even though she’d never admitted that particular fantasy aloud before.

  His attention immediately jumped back to her, surprise there.

  She pressed on. “I felt that you were in that headspace tonight, and it was a huge turn-on. It’s why I did the video. I knew it was something you’d normally freak out over. When you didn’t safe out, I realized you were really all mine. I could do whatever the hell I wanted to you.”

  Even in the dark, she could see his eyes dilate, his lips part. “I—”

  “Does that turn you on? The thought of having no choice?”

  He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “You’re talking like rape fantasy stuff.”

  “I am.” That was a little hard to admit aloud. The word rape had so many scary feelings attached to it. But the real act and the fantasy existed on different planets. And she wasn’t going to lie about the fantasy version having a whole hell of a lot of appe
al. “If you want this, I could force you. Take away your options.” Her hand slid down to his neck, his pulse beating hard there, matching her own pounding heart. “Take you down where others can see and force you out of the proverbial closet.”

  Fear flashed over his face, but he covered the emotion quickly. “I’ve got at least fifty pounds on you, Sam. You can’t really force me to do anything.”

  “Is that right?” She squeezed his neck with enough pressure to make him catch his breath. “Don’t underestimate me, Gib. That’s not a very smart thing to do.”

  “I’m not,” he said, his voice a little choked from the pressure on his neck. “I’m just being realistic. If I freak out and fight, you’re not going to be able to subdue me.”

  “Don’t be so sure.” She eased her grip on his neck and moved her mouth next to her ear. “Imagine being tied down good and tight, no escape, no word to save you. You’d be mine to play with, to hurt, to fuck.” She took a risk and went for the shame button that seemed to be a double-edged sword for him. “And other people would see. They’d see how helpless you were. How needy you’d be for my touch. How very at my mercy you’d be.”

  He stiffened beneath her, a swift breath moving through him. “Fuck, Sam. I . . . that’s . . .”

  She sat up and gave him a long look. When her gaze skated down his body, the sheets were prominently tented. He was terrified at the thought. And turned the hell on. That was all she needed to know. “I’m not asking you to make a decision right now. I’m just putting the idea out there, a possibility to consider. I could take away that anxiety for you in a brutal but effective way, Gib. Show you that you’re stronger than this fear. And once your secret’s out, it’s out.”

  His eyes were wary, but she could tell what she’d said was knocking hard around his head. He cleared his throat. “I don’t know if I’m as strong as you think I am.”