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Authors: Lissa Matthews

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BOOK: Break Me
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He knelt at my feet, holding my face as I talked, as though no one else in the store existed. It was only him. Only me. And the painful memories of that night when my life changed for a second time because of Tim. “Go on, Claire. You’re not alone,” Jared said softly. “I promise. You’re not alone.”

I took a deep, unsteady breath, and swiped the back of my hand across my mouth and nose. I was a mess. I knew I was. I looked it. I felt it. “A phone rang somewhere in
The Club
basement. I don’t know where it was, but I heard it. And I knew. I knew something was wrong. Something shifted inside me and when they Jet and Lucy came into the room, the looks on their faces… I never fought them when they helped me to my feet, when they covered me with a blanket, when they walked me to the office. I never cried or broke when they told me there’d been an accident. It was like I was outside myself. I heard them, but I couldn’t process their words. I felt that he was gone, but I didn’t believe it.”

“You were in shock.”

I nodded. “Yes. Lucy helped me change and Jet helped me get home.”

“Did you have anyone?”

“A few of the subs stayed with me while I made arrangements and went through the motions. I zoned out completely I went to work.. I followed my routine, the one he’d established for me, for us. It was several weeks before the will was read. He’d left me the store. The construction was well underway between the store and the café. His will took care of everything. He was good like that. So conscientious. So responsible. He’d been a lawyer before owning the store. I didn’t have to do anything.”

“When did it hit you?”

“The day the construction was finished. I walked in and it was beautiful. It was exactly what we’d talked about and envisioned. It was… This.” I swung my arms wide, as though I could enfold the place in an embrace. “I pulled out my cell and dialed his number immediately, wanting to tell him. It wasn’t until I received the message that the number was no longer in service that I… I crumbled on the floor, right inside the door. I remember…” I sniffled and again swiped the back of my hand over my face. Jared didn’t mind the sight of my tears or smeared snot or spit when I cried. He was a good one. “I remember someone opened the door and saw me there. She asked if we were open and if I was okay. I screamed at her to get out. After the third time, she finally got it. I crawled to the door, locked it, then made my way to his office in the back. I didn’t leave for three days. The assistant managers took over. When I came out, I was different. If I had been emotionless before that, I was more so after.”

“You haven’t cracked since?”

“No.” Why was I no longer proud of that fact? I’d been strong. I’d been unruffled. I’d been solid and stoic. Why did all that seem so wrong now?

“And you haven’t been back to
The Club
?”

“No.”

“Come with me.”

I stared at him in shock, then stumbled out of the chair. I shook my head. “No. I can’t ever go there again.”

He stood, unwavering in the midst of my sudden movement away from him. “I’ll be there Friday night,” he said, as though I hadn’t said anything at all. “It’s my night off work. Come with me.”

“No. I… I can’t.” Some sick, twisted part of me wanted to say yes, but I clamped my mind down on her.

“Can’t, Claire? Or won’t?”

“Both.”

“I see.”

“I’m sor —”

“Don’t,” he barked, but almost immediately, his expression softened. “Don’t say it. Your apology isn’t what I want.”

“I can’t give you what you want, Jared.” I really, really wanted to, though. “You asked what happened to him, I told you. I can’t give more than that.”

“I beg to differ. I’ll be there Friday night. Waiting.”

“What about tomorrow?” I was afraid I wouldn’t see him again, especially if I didn’t show up as he wanted. I wasn’t ready to not see him again. I wasn’t ready for him to disappear from my life, yet. He’d made me feel. He’d made me cry. He’d made me face the pain no one else had dared broach the subject of. I wasn’t ready to go back into that place inside my head where I was alone and merely taking up space.

He smiled at my question and placed a kiss to the top of my head. “Thank you for sharing your story with me. He was important to you and I’m not looking to take his place. But I think you have more to give, more you want to give. I want that part of you.”

He walked out of the store, leaving me different than when he’d walked in. What was I supposed to do now?

 

 

 

 

Chapter Four

 

 

Jared

 

What the hell was I getting myself into? Did I have any business wanting someone so emotionally fragile? Was she emotionally fragile? I had no idea.

Getting involved with her was a walk on a roller coaster. I wasn’t so sure I wouldn’t end up falling off once I trudged up the incline.

I couldn’t remember anyone affecting me quite the way she did. We spent weeks barely speaking beyond pleasantries and greetings and the latest books. Our last two conversations had been so full of her pain and sadness.

I’d never been with a submissive, or lover for that matter, who’d lost a partner. Partners who left? Sure. Partners who died? Nope. I didn’t want to damage her, hurt her. I wanted to play with her, hold her, break her, and put her back together. I wanted to see fire in her eyes. I wanted to see a spark.

I wanted her for me. All of her.

But could I do it?

Could I get her to come to me? Could I get her to let me in? She let so much out through her tears and her words. Could she find a way to let me in?

I knew she was interested in me on some level. We both knew she was. I’d be willing to bet I was the first man since Tim died who she’d shown any interest in. The thought saddened me while at the same time brought a smile to my face.

A picture shouldn’t have had that much of an effect on me, but it had and there I was… The only other person who owned a part of her story. That had to mean something, didn’t it?

I watched her through the window of the bookstore I’d just exited. She’d sat back down at the table we’d occupied, and buried her head in her arms. Her shoulders shook and my heart squeezed painfully in my chest. I did that to her. I made her open up to me and I walked away.

What a bastard I was.

But not for much longer.

I pulled my cell from my pocket. The other end of the line picked up on the second ring. “Hey, Hugo. I won’t be in tonight. Something’s come up.”

“Sure thing, Boss. We can handle it tonight.”

“If you need someone else to take my spot, call Leroy. He owes this shift a favor. Tell him I said so. And Hugo? Stop calling me Boss.”

“Okay.”

As soon as I disconnected the call, I walked back into the store.. I squatted on my haunches next to Claire. “Look at me.” She did it. As soon as the words were out of my mouth, her head came up and her gaze connected with mine. “I’m taking you home. Let’s go.”

“You left.”

“I came back.”

“I can’t leave.”

“You’re the owner. You can do whatever you want. I’m taking you home.”

She sniffled and this time I wiped her face with my hands. Slobber, tears, snot. I didn’t care. She was hurting and she needed someone to take care of her. For once, in the years she’d been alone, she needed someone to take care of her.

I waited for her argument. I waited for her reasons she couldn’t do this too. All she said was, “Okay.”

I helped her stand and she didn’t resist. She didn’t resist when I took her arm to hold her steady. She didn’t resist when I let her lead the way to do what she needed so I could take her with me. She didn’t resist me, or my presence.

I was there for her to lean on and she took me up on it. It was more than I dared hope for with her. She was so adamant that she didn’t want to feel, that she was perfectly happy in the bubble she’d erected around herself, but I didn’t believe it.

She was human. Hurting. And anyone who looked at her would know it, would see it, would hear it in her voice, but there was a beautiful woman hiding behind all that who wanted out. I heard it, saw it, felt it. A beautiful, submissive woman who could come out on the other side and shine again. But was I the man to do it? Was I strong enough to do it?

I hoped so. She was special. And handling her with kid gloves wouldn’t get it done. I knew that. Too harsh with her and she’d close off. Too gentle and she’d stay fragile. It would take a certain balance of hard and tender to crack the foundation and get inside her walls.

“Are you taking me home to my place? Or yours?”

Her question caught me off guard and pulled me out of my head. She had her purse and an expectant look on her face. “Where do you want to go?”

“Yours.”

That was interesting and curious. I would ask about it later, but for now, I’d take her at her word and take her home with me.

In our path, just as we got to the door, was Jo. I sighed, having forgotten she’d been in the café earlier. She’d slipped from my head as soon as Claire approached me. I braced myself for a confrontation I didn’t want to be part of, but never got the chance to utter a word.

Claire slipped her hand into mine, laced our fingers together, and when I glanced down at her, she was smiling. It wasn’t a friendly smile, either, but rather predatory. She was sending a message to the woman blocking our path and Jo must have understood it. She moved aside with an indecipherable look.

“What was that about?” I asked, innocence in every syllable.

“She wanted you.”

“Yes.” No reason for me to deny it. “She gave me her number earlier today.”

“Are you interested?”

“No.”

“Okay.”

My lips twitched with a smile. Claire had claws I hadn’t been aware of and it made me wonder if she’d been aware of it herself. “Are you sure about this? Going home with me?”

“No. But I don’t want to go to my house. I don’t want to be alone.”

The last few words were said so softly I had to strain to hear them. I squeezed her hand still holding tight to mine. “I’ll keep you with me, then.”

“Thank you.”

“My pleasure.”

“It’s your fault, anyway.”

I laughed at the petulant way she accused me. “Of course it is.”

“You just kept pushing me and pushing me.”

“I did,” I agreed.

“You don’t take no for an answer.”

“Not usually.”

“You should try it sometime.”

“Why? You’re holding my hand and going home with me. Why should I have taken your word for it that you didn’t want to open up?”

“Because I said so.”

“Claire…” Her name was a warning floating between us.

“There it is.”

“There what is?”

“The Dom voice. Tim used it too when he’d had enough. Yours is slightly more Southern and holds a little more edge, but it’s still in the same Dom voice family.”

“Do you think I’ve had enough?”

“Close to it.”

“Do you want to push me to that limit?”

She stopped walking and I turned to face her. “I don’t know. Maybe. I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know who this person is,” she flailed her free hand in front of her body. “She’s too new, too different. I don’t know what I’m feeling. I only know this is scary as shit and it’s your fault.”

“All right. I’ll accept the blame. I’m not sorry, Claire.”

“Selfish,” she muttered.

“Why? Because I saw beyond the façade? Because I saw something in your eyes every time you looked at me? Because I saw something more in you? Fine. If that’s selfish, I’ll own it. You pushed his buttons. You said so. You pushed his buttons until he couldn’t keep from pushing yours. You want to do the same thing to me?” I bent down, got in her face until our noses touched and I could see every fleck of gold in her eyes. “Push me, Claire. If you have to, if you need to, go ahead and push me, and I promise to give you what you want.”

Impulsively, I brushed a kiss to her lips and turned away without another word. She followed along, hand still gripping mine. I helped her into my truck and felt her eyes on me as I rounded the front to climb up behind the wheel.

“No one has talked to me the way you do,” she said softly.

“And how do I talk to you?”

“Like I’m not fragile. Like I won’t break.”

“You won’t.” Even though I suspected she actually needed to shatter completely before this was all said and done.

Downtown Karim wasn’t a bustling hub of traffic at any hour of the day, but it was even less so right now. I wasn’t sure what I was doing and I knew she wasn’t sure what she was doing either. I wanted inside her head and I got it. Now I just had to figure out how to proceed.

I’d never been much of a planner. I kind of let my gut and instincts lead me. It had served me well with those who’d submitted to me in the past. But those had been for play, for scenes. I wasn’t so sure it would work with Claire in the long run, though.

“Why are we going this way?”

I glanced around. I could admit I zoned out for a second and I drove this route so much that I’d swear my truck could drive itself to my place. “It’s how I get home.” I wasn’t sure why she’d asked at first, but then it dawned on me.
The Club
was on this street. “When was the last time you were even over here?”

“Last night. After I closed up the shop, I came over this way.” She sighed and looked over at me. “This is all your fault.”

“So you’ve said.”

“Will you stop? Pull over?” Her voice hadn’t risen or dropped. It hadn’t warmed or become cold. It was monotone, almost dead, and it had me concerned.

“Claire?”

“Please, Jared. Please pull over.”

As fate would have it, a spot across the street was open. It was the only one open, so at the streetlight I made a U-turn and allowed the park assist on the truck to parallel into the space. Claire never took her eyes off the front doors of
The Club
.

“Claire?” I spoke her name softly in the quiet of the truck cab.

“Tim died on the next street over. I told you he was driving too fast because he was late. He was too late to stop at light and slammed on the brakes, but it was too late for the care behind him to slow down at all. He rammed Tim from behind so hard it…”

BOOK: Break Me
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