Break Me Down (15 page)

One hand released him as Foster apparently searched for the keys. Sam’s heels clicked, the sound moving farther away.

Focus. Focus. Focus.
Gibson would not embarrass himself further in front of his friends. He mentally reached for something to distract him. “Where’s Sasha?”

“Oakley followed me here and took her home,” Pike said. “Your dog sucks as a watchdog, by the way. She was like
, Hey, do I know you? Wait, you have chicken?! Here, new best friend, rape and pillage my master! He keeps his wallet in the top drawer and his family heirlooms in the closet.
”

Gibson laughed. “That doesn’t count. Sash already knows you.”

“She needs to take lessons from Monty. He would’ve ripped someone’s face off if they snuck into my bedroom no
matter what they offered.
Then
he would’ve eaten the chicken because . . . chicken. But either way, Reagan’s going to be the happiest kid on the block to play dog sitter for Sasha.”

“Sash will enjoy that,” Gibson said, thankful for the distraction.

“Wait, are we seriously having a conversation about dogs and kids while you have the hard-on of the century and handcuffs on?”

“Yeah, we are.”

“Awesome.” He could almost hear Pike’s grin. “I’m thinking this should feel weirder.”

“It’s weird for me.”

“And me!” Foster called out.

“Your dick hasn’t noticed,” Pike said smugly. “It keeps pointing at me. Of course, that’s probably because I’ve got my hands on you. I have that effect on people. Are you still considering going gay for me? Because I hate to break it to you, but I’m taken.”

Gibson smirked. “Ever heard of a cock ring, asshole? This tent’s not for you.”

“Yeah,” Foster said, coming up beside him again. “And don’t forget the anal vibrator. Guy’s got no shot at standing down.”

Gibson cringed at that. They hadn’t seen everything, but they obviously had heard what was going on.

Pike sighed. “Ah, the ass vibe. Didn’t catch that part. Now I’m just jealous. I love those fuckers.”

Gibson turned his head toward Pike’s voice, lifted his eyebrows.

“What? Unlike you, I’ve got no shame, bro. My woman is kinky as shit, and I am not above waxing poetic about the wonders of the prostate.”

“You’re bent.” Gibson said it with conviction but then smiled. Leave it to his friends to make this seem like a perfectly normal Friday night. Plus, they’d successfully distracted him from his physical state.

“I am. Now let’s get on with this kidnapping. I’m developing Stockholm syndrome with my captive.”

“That’s for the captive to develop, dumbass,” Gibson said.

“Shut up, oh captive my captive.”

The guys guided him to the garage and helped him into the backseat of his SUV. Sitting with the plug made him doubly aware of its presence, but he tried not to squirm and make it obvious. One of the guys pulled a seat belt into place over his chest.

“All set.” Foster said as he snapped the buckle in place. “We’re going to follow y’all there.”

“Why?”

“Because you asked us for help, and Sam may need us to subdue you if you panic and try to fight. In fact, I think Pike’s kind of hoping he gets to take you down.”

“Word,” Pike said from somewhere in the garage. “Let’s do this!”

Gibson imagined Pike hopping from foot to foot and punching the air like a boxer about to go in the ring.

“Y’all don’t have to follow. I’m not fighting this.”

“Yet,” Foster said, that dominant edge coming into his tone. The guy never hid that for long. It seemed to be part of his DNA. “We’re joking around right now, but this is serious shit, Gib. You don’t know how you’re going to react when she pushes you past a boundary you’ve never crossed. Sam’s not messing around. I know what she has planned, and it’s . . . going to be hard for you.”

Just that quick, anxiety banged around in his gut again, a thousand thrashing wings. When he swallowed, it was like glass caught in this throat. “I . . . trust Sam. I want this. Her.”

“I know.” He could feel Foster considering him. “But we need to follow you.”

Frustration flared. “I told you I’m good.”

“Your fists are clenched, your shoulders are stiff, and your pulse is beating so hard at your throat that you look like you swallowed a hummingbird. You’re not fine, Gib. And that’s okay.”

“Don’t you dare pull out that sub-whisperer shit on me, man.”

Foster gave his shoulder another pat. “We made you a promise. We won’t back out of that. You’ll thank us later.”

With that, he was gone, and the door slammed shut. Murmured voices sounded outside as Sam came back and conferred with the guys. Gibson fumed in the backseat. He loved his friends, but sometimes he wanted to throttle them. And being left out of the rest of the conversation just pissed him off.

He was working himself up into a good righteous anger when the plug in his ass jolted to a powerful setting. He groaned, and his head fell back against the seat. “Fuck.”

Sam has a remote.

A door opened. “Being a good boy in there?”

Her voice was candy laced with razor blades.

“Just peachy, mistress.”

“I don’t appreciate the sarcasm, sugar,” she said, dialing up that wicked Southern. “Keep it in check or I’ll make sure you make a big ol’ mess in your nice clean car, mmkay?”

He grunted and clamped his teeth together. The vibration eased up.

This was going to be a long damn drive.

* * *

Sam didn’t know whether she was going to throw up from nerves or lose her mind from the rush. Gibson was in the backseat, eyes closed, face deceivingly stoic, mouth shut. She’d taken off the blindfold and cuffs and had given him a T-shirt to wear. As much as having the man bound and half-naked in the backseat would’ve been a turn-on, she didn’t want to put him at any risk of being seen by a passerby. And God forbid they got in an accident. She wouldn’t want him cuffed and unable to
help himself. But he was bound just the same by her words, and somehow, that was even hotter.

She was glad the drive to the Ranch took a while because she needed that time to get herself in the right headspace. When Gibson had called his safe word, it’d taken everything she had to continue on with the scene. This was a guy who never safed out. Panic had been all over his face. But he’d told her what he needed, and she was going to give him that even if it had made her gut wrench to see him so distressed. Physical pain she had no problem with. Even a dose of fear. The sadist in her loved dancing along that edge. But honest panic was altogether different. She knew what that felt like, didn’t wish it on anyone. It felt like . . . dying. But he’d told her what he needed. They’d made a deal. She would be strong so that he could be, too.

Tonight, they both had to fight for each other.

Pass or fail. There was no in between.

They were going to set the whole thing on fire and hope to survive it.

Time to strike the match.

Gibson had settled into a near-meditative state by the time the SUV slowed to a stop. Sam had ignored him the whole way but had played with the vibrator speed based on the tempo of whatever song was on the radio. He loved that she could manage to make him feel invisible yet tease him at the same time. It kept him focused on her and held his body at a simmer instead of boiling over. He couldn’t think about what was next, only what was now. But as soon as he realized they’d arrived, his mind began to race ahead again.

Sam turned off the ignition, and he fought hard not to open his eyes. He wanted to see her so badly, to ground himself with the sight of her face. But he managed not to look. The sound of fabric sliding along the seat hit his ears. “Still with me, sub?”

He cleared his throat, trying to find his voice after an hour of not speaking. “Yes, mistress.”

“Good. Pull down your shorts and spread your knees.”

The request wasn’t what he’d expected, but he did as he was told. He fumbled with his shorts, working them over his erection and then slid them down to his ankles. He parted his knees and leaned back, trying to stay calm for her.

Warm fingers touched his aching cock, and he almost leapt off the seat at the sudden stimulation.
“Unh
.
”

“Hush. I’m going to get rid of the rings. Don’t you dare come.”

He tipped his head back and gripped the edge of the seat as she lubed him up again to slide the silicone rings off. Even that simple touch seemed like an earthquake to his system. He gritted his teeth, stomach muscles clenching, and the vibrator kicked on to a low hum.
No. No. No.
The rings moved over his engorged head and her fingertips grazed the slit. He cried out and his hips jerked. There was no helping it. His body gave up the fight and all the build up of the last hour went rushing through him like a tsunami. He grabbed his cock, trying to prevent the inevitable. But his erection spasmed in his fist and hot jets of his release weren’t far behind.

“Fuck.
Fuck.
” He cried out, and unable to stop the instinct, he jerked himself, stroking hard and riding the orgasm, gasping as he came with such force that he was sure he’d hit the sunroof. “Oh, shit. Shit. I’m sorry.
Shit.
”

He was huffing breaths and sputtering apologies when Sam finally spoke again. “No goddamn control.”

“I’m sorry, mistress. I—”

“Clean your hand,” she said, no sympathy in her voice.

“What?”

“Lick your mess off yourself and pull up your shorts.”

Coming too soon was humiliating. He hadn’t done that since the day he’d lost his virginity. And having to clean himself up only added to that indignity. He had no idea if anyone nearby could see him, but that base part of him stirred at the command. That darker part woke up. He cleaned his hand. And tugged his boxers on again.

“Good boy,” Sam said, husky desire in her voice. “Now when we get out of the car, I’m going to strip you down fully, put a collar on you, and get you ready to walk into a room of people.”

His lungs stopped moving. The reminder that they weren’t alone was like a Mack truck to his chest.
Wham!
“Mistress . . .”

“I don’t want to hear it. You are mine right now. People are going to watch you take my whip. They’re going to see that plug in your ass. And they’re going to see you beg. Then, if I think you’ve earned it, I’m going to fuck you for all to see. I’m not going to leave any doubt who you belong to.”

“Shit.” He breathed out the word, his blood rushing through his ears. His spent dick twitched anew at the thought of Sam taking him over, whipping him. But that there’d be an audience sent his stomach plummeting.

There was a long silence and he could feel her eyes on him.

“Tell me what’s going through your mind right now. No filter,” she commanded.

“I . . .” He wanted to back out. It was right there. He wanted to say the word.
Red! Red! Red!
His mind was demanding it. But he couldn’t let the fear win. Would. Not. He swallowed hard. “Bind me, mistress.” He forced the words out past a throat that felt three times narrower all of a sudden. “Please.”

“What?”

“Restrain me. Force me.” He shook his head, the panic like a flash mob in his brain, shouting, crowding out everything else. “I—can’t. And I don’t want to hurt you or the guys. I . . . don’t trust myself. I want to run. I’m going to run.
I’m going to fucking run.
”

The words were going up in volume, the anxiety taking over.

“You want to run from me?”

He shook his head hard, but everything was spinning behind his eyelids. “No, it’s not—”

“Stay.” The door opened and shut, but he barely heard it over the sound of his beating heart. His muscles twitched, ready to bolt, to fight.
Fuck
.
Don’t do this. Don’t do this.

But every instinct was screaming at him.
GO!

He opened his eyes, reaching for the door handle.

But before he could grab it, the door on the other side opened. Warm night air rushed past him and hands gripped him. The guys were back. They dragged him out of the car. And it took everything he had not to throw a punch. They needed to restrain him. Fast. He was going to lose it.

“Put him on his knees,” Sam commanded from somewhere out of his line of sight.

The guys lowered him to the gravel, keeping hold of his arms. The smooth rocks bit into his knees, the pain like electricity through the haze of panic. He closed his eyes. “Please. Hurry. Cuff me. Do something.”

“Let him go.”
Sam.

“No!” Gibson couldn’t stop the word from escaping.

The guys released him and his palms hit the gravel.

Firm fingers grasped his chin. “Open your eyes, Gibson.”

He blinked, finding Sam in front of him, the sight of her startling him out of the immediate need to bolt. His gaze raced over her, taking her in like a starved man eyeing a feast. “Sam . . .”

“You. Will. Not. Move.” Sam stepped back, giving him a full view of her outfit. She was in a black full-body catsuit and lace-up boots. Her hair was pulled into a long, curling ponytail. Nothing was exposed, but she’d never looked hotter—like some kind of twisted superhero or villainess. She’d dressed to fight. His entire body took note.

She cocked an eyebrow. “Still want to run from me?”

“It’s not about you, mistress. You’re . . . perfect.” He didn’t dare take his eyes off of her and look at either of his friends. Why weren’t they cuffing him? Doing something to keep him here? “But, Sam, please. I can’t—”

“You asked me to restrain you,” she said.

He nodded, his heart beating too fast, too hard. “I need it.”

“Last I checked, you don’t get to make demands, sugar. That’s my job.” She gave the guys behind her a look and then turned what he guessed was the vibrator remote in her hand, toying with him.

He pressed his lips together, trying not to bark out in frustration. She didn’t
get
it. Didn’t understand. This fear was bigger than him. His heart felt like it was going to bust through his ribs. This was why he’d asked for this, dammit. He needed the push off the board. Why were they just standing around?
Fucking do something!

He finally forced himself to turn his head to send a signal to one of the guys, a plea, but when he looked, they were climbing back into their car.
What the hell? No!

Sam noticed what he was doing. “Looking for someone to save you?”

Gibson took quick breaths, trying to fight off the attack.
Breathe. Breathe.
“Sam, I need—”

“You need to listen, is what you need to do.” She crossed her arms in front of her, locked her gaze on him. “You’re still on your knees. All you need are my words.”

He wagged his head.

“Look at me.”

He forced his gaze up.

“I can’t do this, Gib.” Her neck constricted with a hard swallow. “I won’t.”

“What?”

“Force you.”

The ground seemed to open up beneath him. He closed his eyes.
No. Please. Don’t do this.

“I love you,” she said softly.

He sucked in a breath and looked back to her.
“Sam
.
”

“And I think you might love me back.” She didn’t flinch, but he could tell it cost her something to take the risk in saying
that without getting confirmation from him.

But he was too tongue-tied to respond.

“In your letter, you told me I’m the strongest woman you’ve ever met. But what you don’t know is how goddamned strong you are, too. Look at you. You’ve survived things that would’ve destroyed most other people. You made a good life anyway. That’s why we get each other, Gib. We got the crap draw growing up, the short stick. And we didn’t let it stop us from being successful or whole or happy. It did not beat us. Fuck those people who didn’t love us like they should’ve, who hurt us.
Fuck. Them.
We are amazing. They didn’t break us.”

She stepped closer to him, her scent drifting on the night air, and looked down, forcing him to tilt his head upward.

She pressed a finger to his head. “In here are the monsters. Your father’s words, that insecurity he planted in you, all that hurt you didn’t deserve. I have monsters, too. But they’re only strong when you feed them. Stop feeding them, Gib.” She pointed to the building. “Inside those doors are people who care about you. They’re real. Not ghosts of the past.” She kneeled down in front of him, took his hand, and placed it on her chest. “And inside here is my love. And that’s as real as it gets. I love
you
. Exactly how you are.
Because
of who you are. Like never felt this way about anyone else in my life, love you.”

Tears climbed up his throat, made it burn.

“And in a few minutes, I’ll be inside with the others. Onstage. Waiting. Leave the monsters out here, Gib.”

His chest constricted.

“I’m not going to tie you up and drag you in there. This is your decision. And you’re strong enough to make it on your own. So you can stay out here with the monsters and let them have you. Let them steal away what you know could be an amazing, spectacular thing. Or you can get up on your own two feet, tell them to fuck off, and walk inside. You can kneel down for me in front of people who accept you and want you to be happy, and you can have me.” She cupped his face, her expression softening, but pain hovering there, too. “We can have
this
, Gib. Every day. I want you so much it physically hurts me, but I can’t force you. I thought I could. And if it was just sex and fun and for the sake of a kinky night, I’d be able to. But not for this. I need . . .” She took a breath, her eyes flickering with a vulnerability that dug right into him. “I need you to choose me. I’ve been forced on people my whole life, Gib. I need to be chosen this time. I need to be worth the cost to someone.”

He closed his eyes, the words seeping into the cracks of that wall of panic and settling in.
Choose me.
Sam, the girl who never got a forever family, who bounced from place to place like she was lost luggage, was baring her soul to him. He’d gotten so caught up in his own bullshit that he’d failed to see how selfish he was being. His pride and father’s legacy coming before the heart of the woman he cared most about. He’d been about to run from her. For what? In order to run
to
what? What would he gain by doing that? Nothing. But he knew what he’d lose. And he couldn’t bear that.

He turned his face into her palm, kissing the tender center, smelling her scent and tasting her skin, letting it calm him. This. This is what he needed. He let that sensation bloom in him, swell, pushing back that insistent voice that always told
him to bolt, to protect himself, to never surrender. The tight grip around his chest loosened. “I’m so sorry, Sam.”

He sensed her stiffen. She was bracing. She thought he was saying he couldn’t do it, that it was too much. That he was apologizing for letting her down. She backed away. Her expression smoothed out, the shields going up.

He reached for her hand, capturing it before she could move too far away. “Don’t.”

“Gib, I can’t. I can’t stand here and—”

“I love you, Sam,” he said without fear.

She stopped backing away, frozen.

He climbed to his feet and though his heart was beating faster than it had all night, this time it wasn’t panic. This time it was something very, very different. Instead of picturing the faces of the people who might judge him in submission, worrying about what his father would’ve thought, he only thought of her face. What he could give her. What gift he could offer.

She didn’t want the guy he always thought he
should
be. She wanted the man he was. Flawed. Real.
Hers.

He released her hand, took a step back, and tugged off his T-shirt.

Her gaze followed the shirt as he tossed it onto the hood of the SUV. “What are you doing?”

“I love you,” he repeated. He reached for his shorts and tugged them down and off. Then he got right in front of her and kneeled back down in the gravel, more naked than he’d ever been in his life. He took her hands in his and met her gaze. “I love you, Sam. I
choose
you. I will always choose you.”

Her eyes were wide and they turned to glass then, sparkles in the moonlight as tears filled them. “Gib . . .”

“Please, mistress, take me inside and make me yours.”

She grasped his shoulders and dropped to her knees in front of him, the tears falling with her. She didn’t say anything, just wrapped her arms around him. He allowed himself to do the same, gathering her to him and sitting back on his calves so he could lift her knees out of the gravel and let her kneel on his thighs instead.

They stayed like that for a few long moments and he couldn’t remember ever being happier in his life than right now. Cars came in and out of the lot and he barely noticed. The switch had been flipped. Flinching, being embarrassed, now meant hurting the woman he loved. Unacceptable.

He’d finally figured out whose opinion mattered. His. And hers. The rest of ’em could, just as she’d said,
fuck off
.