RockYourSoul (2 page)

His head tilted. “So much for safe, sane and consensual. If
that’s your view on those things, then we have no need to continue this
conversation. Those things are mandatory in my world. So is a safeword.”

“I do believe in those concepts, but that doesn’t mean
others do. Or that people make the smartest choices when their head is in the
clouds. I thought I was in love. I would agree to anything. Needless to say, I
wasn’t given a lot of choice in the matter. By the time I realized what was
happening it was too late to safely walk away.”

His gaze moved over her face, searching. “Yet here you are.”

“He got bored.” The memory of the day still clung to her
like a second skin, thick and slimy.

“Most people would have run as far away from this lifestyle
after an experience like you just described, not ask a Dom for help.”

She nodded. “I did walk away—for a bit. I needed to examine
if I’d been wrong about my choices. It made me realize
he
was the
problem. Not me. I enjoy the concepts he introduced—pain, subspace, sharing.
Just not his approach. I have a feeling he skipped right over the basics with
me, but I refuse to submit to some jerk off the street again just so I can
learn.”

One of his eyebrows lifted. “Technically, I’m just some jerk
off the street.”

She jutted her chin high. “Except you came with impeccable
references and were highly recommended. That makes a huge difference in my
eyes. I can’t promise taking me on as your submissive will be easy, but Elena
mentioned you like a challenge and I need someone to help me. Sounds like a
good fit to me. If you don’t agree, I’ll apologize for bothering you and be on
my way.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes,” she admitted quietly.

He studied her silently with an intense, unnerving gaze that
made her uncomfortable. Why couldn’t he just refuse and they’d both be on their
way for the night? Then she could give up this ludicrous idea she’d had and
just go back to her old life in Nashville.

“To your knees.”

She blinked, stunned at the power and command in his voice.
As the control washed over her, she wanted to respond, but she found herself
too annoyed things weren’t going according to plan. While she’d expected him to
ask her questions to find out what he was in store for, she didn’t expect
anything of this magnitude.

Angry, she returned his glare.

He smirked. The reaction caused her insides to turn to jelly,
her vitriolic thoughts vanishing on the chilly night air. Why did he have to be
so goddamn handsome and annoying at the same time?

“I suggest you listen if you want me to consider taking you
on as I don’t like repeating myself. To. Your. Knees.”

She opened her mouth to protest and he tilted his head down
just enough to give her another message. A very stern one she couldn’t help but
listen to. He would not be ignored.

She dropped her hands to her sides and slowly lowered to her
knees. The rough rocks immediately bit into her shins, but she wouldn’t give
him the satisfaction of showing him she was in pain. She heard the unmistakable
sound of buttons popping on his jeans and looked up just in time to see him
part the denim. What in the Sam hell did he intend to do? If he expected her to
suck his dick right here and now, he’d better think again.

“Eyes down.”

The authority behind those two words coursed through her,
compelling her to obey. It had been a long time since she’d had this kind of
reaction. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she complied. The denim pooled
around his ankles and she found herself staring at the pile.

Just as she started to wonder if Elena had been out of her
mind to recommend this man, his hand slid against the top of her head. His touch
was almost calming and, despite her annoyance, a feeling of tranquility washed
over her. His fingers combed her hair, catching the elastic holder from her
ponytail, pulling it free. He continued to run his fingers through the strands,
fanning out her hair. She relaxed under his persistent touch. The pain in her
legs melted away and she gave a soft sigh as her body started to quietly buzz.

Yes.

The crunch of rocks jolted her back to the moment. She
listened to him move away, leaving her alone on the rock path in front of his
house.

What in the hell?

Beth looked to the left and her eyes widened in surprise as
she spotted him. He strolled toward the small lake at the front corner of the
field, towel swinging in his hand as he walked. Those jeans of his were at her
feet and she now had an unobstructed view of his bare ass.

A very firm, very tan, perfectly formed ass.

Christ on a slinky going down an up escalator if he
doesn’t look even better out of those jeans.
Transfixed by the bunch and
pull of the muscles in his thighs and butt as he walked over the uneven ground,
she forgot her place and openly gawked.

When he reached the bank at the water’s edge, he dropped the
towel and walked right into the lake. She expected him to dive under the
surface, but instead he slowly moved until the water lapped as his hips. He
sunk as if he were a knife cutting through the water, disappearing with no more
than a quiet ripple disturbing the surface. The lake smoothed in seconds.

The only indication she ever had company were those damn
jeans on the ground in front of her.

Under the water there was silence.

No voices. No anger. No screams.

Nothing.

Ryan Flynn learned long ago how to mute the sounds that used
to dominate his life. But occasionally, when the pain got to be too much, he
had to do something to shut the reminders away. Otherwise, he couldn’t find a
foothold. He’d hoped the sanding pass on the boat would help put him deep
enough to push things aside. But tonight the pain roared louder than he was
capable of balancing.

He hated the fact he possessed a weakness strong enough to
break him.

When his lungs burned from the lack of oxygen, he slowly
surfaced, deliberately inhaling the powerful scent of the pine trees lining one
side of the lake. Water lapped quietly around his shoulders as a trio of frogs
croaked off in the distance. Peaceful sounds in such a peaceful habitat should
settle his psyche. But the war occurring in his mind raged on without any hope
of negotiations happening anytime soon.

The presence of the woman still pressed at his back. He
didn’t need to turn around to know she watched him, wondering why he seemed so
brusque and aloof. He’d seen the spark in her eyes the moment she’d walked up
to the workshop and gotten lost watching him. Her open appreciation had been
for him as much as it had been for the boat. A sign she valued fine
workmanship.

But there was more to the story she’d told than she was
admitting. That fact had become clear the moment she’d mentioned Elena’s name.
He wasn’t looking to take on a submissive right now, but the challenge she’d
already presented him with was very alluring.

Did he want to exploit her fight?

He’d be a fool to dismiss his gut reaction to go a few
rounds with her. Those shapely legs of hers seemed to be a mile long. And the
low and sultry voice of hers had hardened his cock the moment she’d first
spoken.

He wasn’t a stranger to the off-kilter feeling where his
body simply took over, where demanding hormones pushed away reason and logic.
But it had been awhile since he’d wanted to bury himself balls deep into a
woman, or wanted to slide his cock through the valley of her breasts, this
quickly.

He wanted her.

And he was smart enough to know the fascination went well
beyond simply the allure of having her under his command. Interesting the
feeling would come now. A day he felt any kind of attraction this intense
should be the last thing on his mind. It was pointless to think too much into
the whys as his body obviously knew something he didn’t.

He was well trained enough to know when he should listen to
his gut.

And right now, his gut was screaming to have Elisbeth
Lawson.

Decision made, he spun in the water. Her gaze immediately
fell as he turned and her position gave him ample opportunity to study her
mannerisms—her tells. She made quite a picture, kneeling in a short skirt on
the cobblestone walkway he’d laid down two years ago. His active imagination
was proficient enough to think about what she’d look like wearing only his
ropes. But the erotic image in his mind wasn’t enough. He wanted to see the
reality in living color.

God, it had been so long since he’d had a submissive where
he’d felt this kind of reaction. And unless he’d gotten rusty in his negligence
of his chosen lifestyle, she was just as attracted to him. Well beyond simply
wanting his assistance because of some asshole with a whip.

It felt good to be wanted.

It also felt good to know his body could still act of its
own accord.

He wasn’t dead yet after all.

The way her fingers trembled against her thigh showed she
was nervous. But the fact she stayed where she’d been ordered signaled to him
something deeper and more profound. She possessed the need to please a Dom. He
guessed she simply resisted the sensation because it went against whatever
society told her was normal. Or someone hadn’t bothered to take the time to
correctly show her. Based on what she’d told him earlier, he suspected it was
the latter.

He smiled as he dipped under the water. Given what he’d seen
so far, she would be more than a handful. The over-starched shirt, pencil-thin
miniskirt and out-of-place stilettos gave that away. Who wore stilettos to a
job interview? He’d put money on the fact she wasn’t used to dressing up in
such a way and had either bought the first pair of heels she’d run across or
borrowed them from a friend.

Her stuffy exterior seemed so…false. Especially since he’d
seen the glint of the silver barbell through the upper shell of her ear. Not to
mention he’d also caught the flash of tanned leather circling both of her wrists.

Fussy female, industrial piercings and worn leather didn’t
normally run in the same circles. Judging by the appearance of her muscle car,
he doubted this kind of clothing was typical. There had to be an explanation
for her being all dolled up to perfection.

Did she have more piercings? More leather in places he
couldn’t see?

He wasn’t ashamed to admit he would take great pleasure in
discovering the answers, peeling away all those layers until there was nothing
left but Elisbeth Lawson exposed and uncontrolled.

The bit of promise of what she would look like tumbling into
subspace is what made him finally pull out the water. Scooping up the towel, he
scrubbed it through his hair and started to walk back to the cabin—to her. He
made no effort to cover his nudity. This was his house, his land and she had
trespassed. If she had a problem with his current state of undress, she
shouldn’t have showed up at his home unannounced.

He casually walked toward her, taking the opportunity to see
if she pushed on the limits of his order again. She didn’t meet his gaze as he
approached and instead dropped her head lower, her chin almost meeting her
upper chest.

Excellent.

He reached down to scoop up his jeans, shaking the
rust-colored Virginia mountain clay loose from the creases before he slid them
on again. He stood over her, waiting as he slowly buttoned his pants, seeing if
she moved or said anything to acknowledge his presence.

She was so fucking beautiful and had no idea of the power
she possessed right now.

He’d bet his newest boat without a single regret.

When she didn’t move after a few minutes, he reached out to
skim his hand over her head again. She inhaled deeply and he smiled, letting
his hand drop to her shoulder. Her breathing pattern deepened as his fingers grazed
over her arm all the way down to her fingers. He bent, taking up her hand to
weave their fingers together as he formulated a plan for her training.

“Go ahead and stand now.”

She did as instructed, but her gaze remaining focused on the
ground between them. Given her state, he’d bet he could have left her there and
she’d have slipped into subspace in no time. But it was too early for that
state. Too early for a lot of things, he reminded himself, but that wouldn’t
keep him from enjoying this moment. From enjoying her.

He lifted her chin, drawing her face to his. Because he had
to know how she tasted, he closed the distance between them to brush his lips
over hers. Her body relaxed to allow him to take as he pleased.

Yeah, she was made for this lifestyle. She just hadn’t found
the right Dom.

The kiss was sweet, with just a hint of the heat coursing
through his body. No need to scare her off before they even got started.
Honey.
She tastes like honey. Clover honey specifically. Bet she’s a tea drinker.
The
sweet taste would now be forever imprinted in his mind as hers.

“We’re done, California. For now.”

She was still blinking as he pulled away. He liked seeing
the surprise in her expression, the darkened shade of her wide, expressive
eyes. Even the stunned disbelief he’d just done more for her in fifteen minutes
than her previous Dom had ever done. He liked the feeling—a lot.

Maybe even too much.

He tossed the towel over his shoulder, deciding to think
about what the arousal building in his veins meant later. “So why are you so
dressed up? Too fancy to come all the way out here just to seek out a Dom or to
buy a boat.”

“I had an interview with Joe Keleron to see about taking
over as his replacement. But I am interested in commissioning you for a boat. I
didn’t lie to you.”

An interview with Joe explained a lot. He handed her the
elastic he’d removed, waiting while she pulled her hair away from her face. As
her fingers combed through the strands, it reminded him how the silky texture
had felt against his calloused palm. He wondered how her hair would feel
wrapped around his fist as he plunged into her.

Hot damn this woman had certainly gotten him all spun up.

He mentally shook away the explicit images threatening to
derail his plan. “So, you’re going to be the new town disc jockey.” He’d heard
Joe mention moving out the West Coast for a bigger market the last time they’d
run into one another at the grocery store. Hearing the news had come as a
surprise since Joe seemed happy enough spinning tunes for the small town. Funny
how life had carried on when he hadn’t been paying attention.

“I don’t have the job yet.”

“Joe wouldn’t have asked you to see him if he didn’t already
want you. What market did you come from?”

Her eyes narrowed, a shadow darkening her heart-shaped face.
“You seem to know a lot about music for a boat maker.”

Ryan winced.
Damn, gotta watch that.
“Joe grew up
around Gatlin Falls. We used go to school together and he can be quite the
talker. I’m a fast learner, so I tended to pick up things he likes to ramble
about.”

“Oh.” She accepted his explanation without further inquiry.
“I came from Nashville.”

He fought back the wave of nausea suddenly turning his
stomach sour. The buzzing in his head returned and he battled it back as he
fought to keep up the normal cadence of conversation. She couldn’t see him
crack, not when she’d come seeking his strength and support. “Come to live in
Virginia and give it a taste of country?”

She laughed, pushing at a pebble with the exaggerated point
of her shoe. “Ah, no. I worked at an alt-rock station.”

“Either the water really plugged my ears, or I just heard
you say something pretty damn unbelievable. You spun alt-rock in the heart of
country music city?” As odd as it sounded to him, those words settled his
nerves.

One less thing for him to worry about.

She combed her fingers through her ponytail. “Yeah, I know.
My grandpa always told me I was either stupid or ballsy.”

“Certainly dressed nicely for spinning that kind of music.”

Beth shrugged as she smoothed her hands down over the front
of her fitted skirt. He’d be interested in seeing her in casual wear, or maybe
even nothing at all.

Well, nothing but my ropes.

Damn it.

“It was an interview. Not as if I could slip on a Nirvana
tee, flannel shirt, ripped jeans and a pair of Chucks for that kind of thing.
Then again, it probably wouldn’t have mattered. According to you, I already
have the job.” She smirked.

The noise in his head calmed a little at her soft snort. Odd
how she seemed to have this effect on him. “Still seems out of place for
Nashville. It’s a good market, so why leave? A lot more attentive listeners
there.”
Watch it, Flynn, you’re letting yourself get a little deep.

“Needed a change. I’ve been known to try my hand at
something only to fail miserably. Kind of how I got into music. Had a friend
who needed someone to fill in for the graveyard shift and I had nothing better
to do at the time. Needed the money too. Taught myself the sound boards and
ended up being the overnight talent. KROX hired me away to a bigger market a
few years later, but I got tired of that aspect pretty quick. Wanted…smaller.”

“So why not go back home?”

“I could.” Her heavy sigh caressed his skin. A lot of
emotion in that sound. “But then I would just be hiding, wouldn’t I?”

He had enough information and if they kept circling around
the radio station and music talk, he was afraid he’d allow something to slip.
“Well, sounds like Joe made a good choice. Why don’t you sleep on what you saw
tonight, Elisbeth?”

“Just Beth, please.”

“Okay, Beth. We’ll go from there if you decide you want to
continue.”

The puzzled look she gave him said she’d expected more. He
always enjoyed keeping a submissive on her toes. There was definitely more in
store for her if she actually came back. It had to be her choice, especially
because she’d sought him out. But something told him she’d definitely be back.
He doubted she was even aware she’d just started the training she’d asked him
for.

“All right. I’ll be in touch.” She carefully picked her way
over the rocks, sliding behind the wheel of her muscle car. Interesting car
choice. Nothing frilly or fancy about all that steel and chrome. As the tail
lights of her car faded in the distance, Ryan did his best not to think about
how her ass had swayed suggestively under the tight fabric of her skirt.

Intelligent.

Sexy.

Articulate.

Beth Lawson was the whole package.

He grinned into the fading moonlight as he thought about
unraveling her very fascinating package.