by Gemma James
He opened his mouth, shut it. Opened it again.
I blinked, feigning apathy, but I was shaking on the inside. He’d never looked so…at a loss. Unsure. After a year of submitting to his every order and whim, a single act of rebellion had knocked him on his sanctimonious ass. What a powerful, addicting feeling this was.
The belt slipped from his hand. “What do you want from me?” He spread his arms. “I’ve given you everything—”
“No! I’ve given you everything.” My voice rose. “I’ve spent more time on my knees than at your side. Have spent more time with your cock in my mouth than actually talking to you. You’ve forced your damn rules and jealous tirades on me, but I’m not allowed to feel anything when I see that bitch sitting on your desk like she fucking owns it?” I threw the hairbrush at him, but instead of hitting his face, it thumped against his broad chest. He caught it, folded his fingers around the handle, and I realized too late that I’d just given him a weapon.
He stalked into the bathroom, his body moving in a way that warned. I had no room to retreat, no way to defend myself as he grabbed my arm.
“Don’t you dare judge me when you’ve been sneaking around for weeks working at his hospital.”
I gasped, and the sails of my anger dropped, leaving me bobbing in a sea of blatant deception. Leaving me stagnant with guilt.
“That’s right, Kayla.” His gaze wandered my face, assessing the flush of guilt spreading across my cheeks. “I’ve known since you started.” Letting go of my arm, he grabbed my chin, holding me prisoner in his furious indigo eyes. “Did you see him?”
“Yes.” My admission crashed a wrecking ball through his heart, and my own fractured at the flicker of betrayal in his eyes. “Nothing happened. I ran into him a few days ago, and I told him to leave me alone.”
“You really don’t want to lie to me right now.”
“Please, Gage. Don’t do this.”
His fingers slid from my jaw, and he fiddled with my short hair. “You started it, baby.”
“I’m sorry.” And I was. Not because I’d defied him. Not because I’d blown my top over Katherine. I was sorry because this was the worst time to poke at the frayed past named Ian Kaplan.
He lowered his eyes. “I’ve tried so hard not to come down on you about this. I’ve waited and waited and fucking waited for you to tell me.”
The Friday ritual…I was right. He’d done it to punish me, maybe even to coax a confession out of me.
“I only wanted to do something meaningful with my spare time.”
“You should have asked for permission.”
“You would have said no.”
He cocked his head. “You sound so sure of that.”
“Are you saying you would have given your blessing?”
“That depends.”
“On what?”
“On whether or not you’re still in love with him.”
For a few seconds, my lungs ceased working. The room and everything in it, including Gage, blurred, shifted. My eyes stung with the truth. I wasn’t supposed to care about another man, especially when that man was his brother. I was certain my silence gave him all the answer he needed.
“Kayla…” he said, voice thick with pain. “What do you want from me? I’ve gone to counseling. I’ve been the best father I can be to Eve. I’ve worshipped the fucking ground you walk on, yet you go behind my—”
“You’re slowly killing me!” I barreled past him and paced the bedroom, tired of being cornered, especially since he still held that brush with purpose. “Your love is toxic. I can’t fucking breathe anymore.”
Spanning the distance, he held my left hand and ran his thumb over my wedding ring. The one that meant so much to him because it had belonged to his mother. “I’ve given you everything I can. Everything that I am.”
“You don’t get it!” I yanked my hand from his. “I need more than this. I need to be able to walk out the door when I want. See who I want. Wear what I want. Get a damn job if I want.”
“Then explain it to me. Why do you need those things?”
I blinked several times. That was not the reaction I’d expected. “Because…because I just do.” I brought my fist to my chest. “I need a piece of me back.”
In the space of two seconds, he had my chin in his strong grip. “But you gave every piece of yourself to me the day we married. I need you to submit, always.”
Like a flash going off behind my eyes, it all became devastatingly clear. Control. It would always whittle down to his thirst for complete control over every aspect of his life, and now mine. He’d had none growing up. I’d known this, and maybe I’d understood it on a subconscious level. I’d bent for him for a year because I’d wanted to make him happy—because giving him everything meant giving him the security he needed.
“The question goes both ways, Gage. Why do you need it?” I wondered if he’d figured out what I had, or if it was still a need that chewed inside him, mostly uncategorized.
His forehead creased. His eyes narrowed. He struggled to speak.
“You don’t know why you need it, do you?”
“You’re asking me to change who I am. I can’t, Kayla. I’ve already bended the most I can bend.”
“No, I’ve bended. Every damn day, I’ve given up myself for your needs.”
“You’re more limber than I am, baby.”
“Don’t joke about this.”
“It’s not a joke. You’re the strongest woman I know. Nothing can break you, not even me. You’re my miracle.”
“I shouldn’t have to be so strong.”
“But you are.” He held my gaze with meaning. Paused a beat. “Only you can handle what I need.” He tapped the hairbrush against his palm. “And what I need right now is to blister your ass.”
“Just when I think we’re getting somewhere.” I yanked at my infinity collar, brimming with restless energy—a tonic of anger, desperation, and even regret. “Take it off, Gage. I’m done handling your shit.”
He struck so fast, I didn’t have time to gasp. I dangled over his shoulder, the hardwood floor of our bedroom my only view as he stalked toward the bed.
“Let me go!”
He dropped me to my feet and forced me over the end. “Ass up, Kayla.”
I kicked and yelled and slung obscenities at him.
“Knock it off. Take your punishment like a fucking adult.”
“Why should I, when you treat me like a child?”
“If you don’t behave, I’ll make you wish you had.”
“Let. Me. Go.”
“Do you remember your wedding vows, or do you need a reminder?”
“Do you?” I fired back.
He smacked my ass with such strength, the world seemed to halt. I cried out, my eyes stinging, muscles rigid from the fiery imprint of his hand. That hairbrush was going to be torture in comparison. I held to no delusions; he had every intention of beating me with it. The thought stole my breath, and I fought for air until my lungs filled. The world jerked forward, returning to its laborious orbit around the sun.
Just like I would. I’d orbit Gage because he was that powerful. He was the center of my solar system, the God of my gravity, the devil of my desire. The Master of my mind.
He was the dean of my discipline.
“Let’s try this again,” he said, squeezing where his palm had just put me in line. “Do you remember your vows?”
“Yes! Of course I do.”
“I want to hear them. One at a time.” He shifted and stood to the side. With ceremonial significance, he placed the brush on the mattress in front of me. Fisting a hand in my shortened locks, he forced my gaze on his chosen implement of punishment.
Wooden, square, made durable for long hair…which I no longer had.
Warm fingers skimmed the back of my thighs, inching my skirt up to expose his naked canvas. “You’re getting five strikes for each vow, but for each one you’ve broken, you’re getting twenty-five.” He released his
grip on my hair and picked up the brush again. “Don’t plan to sit anytime soon.”
I wanted to scream at him. Wanted to tell him to go screw himself. But he had me right where he wanted me, and I knew from experience that the only way out was to follow his orders.
“Okay, Gage. You win.”
Whack.
“Ahhh!”
“Address me properly.”
“I’m sorry, Master.”
“Start reciting.”
“I promised to love.”
“Love me, you have. I know I’m difficult to love, but I feel the way you love me every time you drop to your knees.”
Whack.
“Every time you make yourself gag so I’ll come that much harder.”
Whack.
“Every time you take my belt.”
Whack.
“Every time you’ve let me kiss your tears away.”
Whack.
“Every time you come with my name on your lips.”
Whack.
“Every time you watch me with Eve.” Dead silence followed his words. He cleared his throat. “You don’t realize that I’m paying attention, but I am, Kayla. I see the amazing smile that lights up your face. Your joy is a fucking weapon.” He drew in a shaky breath. “Next vow.”
I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see through my tears, so I wasn’t sure how he expected me to speak. But that didn’t matter. I’d better find a way to utter what he wanted to hear, or face even harsher consequences.
“To honor.”
“Have you, Kayla? Have you honored me?”
If I were being truthful… “No, Master. But you haven’t honored me either.”
“How do you figure? You’ve been sneaking behind my back for weeks. How have I dishonored you?”
I figured now wasn’t the time to bring up the double standard—the fact that he’d hid something from me as well. But there were no double standards with Gage. Only my obedience.
“You don’t respect me,” I said. “You don’t care how I feel. You’ll always do what you want, and what I want doesn’t matter.”
“You’re right. I will do what I want, but that doesn’t mean you don’t matter. You matter more than you realize. I’ve made concessions I didn’t think I was capable of making. I stood by knowing you were seeing him, and I said nothing.”
God, he was right. I had no argument to stand on.
“We’ll call this one a draw,” he said. “Next vow.” The tone of his voice dipped to a dangerous level.
We both knew what was coming. His triumph over punishing me, and my struggle to endure it because I had broken the last vow. I’d stood on that altar and promised to obey him. It didn’t matter that his expectations and demands were beyond fucked up—I’d married him with both eyes open.
He hadn’t changed. He’d remained his usual volatile yet ironically dependable self. If I could count on anything, it was that Gage Channing would always punish me.
“Obey,” I whispered.
“Did you break that vow?”
The words wouldn’t come at first. A lifetime seemed to go by in the time it took to force out the answer he thirsted for. “Yes, Master.”
“Yes, you did. Even worse, you broke my cold as fuck heart.” He brought the brush down with maximum strength, stealing the essence of my life-force. My lungs refused to work. My muscles refused to relax and take the strike. My brain’s synapses were stuck firing down a one-way street. The boulevard of broken man. Gage had a heart—fragile and infested with love for me.
I’d stomped on it by not giving him all of mine.
“You could have volunteered anywhere. Any goddamn fucking place, Kayla. But you chose that hospital. Why?”
“I don’t know,” I cried, not even flinching when he hit me again.
“Yes, you do. You just don’t want to admit it.”
Whack.
“Fuck, Kayla, out of every man on this planet for you to be in love with, why’d it have to be him?”
My body quaked from the force of his words.
“I love you more.” I shuttered my eyes, too ashamed to look at him because my non-denial spoke volumes. I was in love with two men. To finally admit and accept it shredded my soul. “Forgive me, Master.”
I glanced over my shoulder, and for the second time ever, I watched him struggle to hold it together. Tears hinged on dark, thick lashes. He blinked rapidly, each drop purging him of turmoil and grief and heartbreak.
“I’ll die trying, Kayla.” He lifted the brush, and my ass became the devil’s playground.
13. Four Minutes Past Midnight
This was the worst way to start off our anniversary trip. We’d pulled ourselves together long enough to welcome Eve off the bus and get her ready for when Leah’s mother picked her up for the sleepover.
But we’d barely said two words to each other since we’d loaded our bags into the trunk over an hour ago. I shifted in my seat, hissing between my teeth because no matter how I moved, I couldn’t escape the pain from the force of that brush.
He’d walloped my ass good.
I shot him a sideways glance. A shadow darkened his jawline. I imagined a dark cloud obscured his eyes as well.
“How many times did you see him?” His question filled up the festering space, piercing my ears louder than the highway rushing beneath us.
“I met with him once,” I said then lowered my voice. “Ran into him twice after that.”
He gripped the steering wheel as if the thing threatened to break off and roll away. “Did you run into him on purpose?”
“No, Gage. It wasn’t on my end.”
“Address me properly.”
I sighed. This was getting us nowhere.
“I mean it, Kayla. Address me properly, or I’ll pull the car over.” He threw me a look full of devious meaning. “After what I put your ass through earlier, trust me—you don’t want more.”
“Yes, Master.”
“Did he touch you?”
Shit. He wasn’t about to let this go any more than I’d been willing to let him off the hook about Katherine and her undone buttons. I recalled how Ian had grabbed my hand, how he’d trapped me between him and the couch. How he’d kissed me for the merest of seconds.
All of those things would jab at Gage’s anger.
“Just tell me the truth, Kayla. Don’t overthink it.”
“He touched me,” I admitted quietly.
“How?”
“Grabbed my hand, mostly.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed in this throat. “Did you touch him?”
“Only to push him away.”
His jaw was so rigid, I wondered if it would split in two.
The remainder of the drive went by in utter disquiet. Gage focused his attention on getting us safely over the worst part of the snowy pass. By the time we pulled into the driveway of a secluded cabin, nightfall had descended hours ago. Fluffy, white snow weighed down the surrounding pine trees, and the inches on the rooftop must have reached a foot or more.
I opened my door, grateful that someone had plowed the driveway and cleared a path to the front door. My boots crunched on packed-down snow, fracturing the cold serenity of winter. Gage popped the trunk, hefted a suitcase and a duffle out, and gestured for me to precede him to the stoop.
“It’s beautiful out here,” I said.
“It’s secluded. I had to pay a premium to get someone out here to ready the place for us. No one’s around for miles.” We reached the front door, and the way his gaze lingered on me sent nervous flutters into my belly.
“For two days, it’s just you and me, Kayla.”
Just the two of us…and me at his mercy. Eve wouldn’t provide a buffer between us. His work wouldn’t save me with a well-timed distraction. Being in the middle of nowhere with him was nerve-wracking enough on its own, but considering how hurt and furious he was…
He set the luggage down long enough to unlock the door. I entered first, and a blast of warmth
hit me. A fire raged in the insert. The plush throw rug in front of the flames would be the perfect spot to make love all night.
The thought squeezed my heart. I missed making love with him. These past few weeks, he’d been more dominant than loving.
He dropped our luggage by the front entrance. “No TV, no distractions. I’d planned to make you come all weekend until you begged me to stop.”
Past tense.
Forget making love by the fireplace. I’d ruined this weekend and any chance of that happening.
No, a logical voice in my head piped in. We’d ruined the weekend. I’d been in the wrong, but he wasn’t innocent either. He should have never allowed Katherine inside his office, let alone plant her ass on his desk.
He dragged a hand through his hair. “I want you naked, now.”
Blinking several times, I held it all in, refused to fall apart. But the way he was acting stabbed at my hurt, opening old wounds. I couldn’t take it when he grew cold and distant. I could take just about anything but that.
“Yes, Master,” I choked out, shrugging out of my coat. I reached for the hem of my sweater, but his warm palm on my cheek stopped me. He leaned down and took my mouth. The slow slide of his tongue against mine melted all my doubts, all my fears.
The tears finally broke free, streaming down my cheeks, dampening the stubble on his face. Cleansing us. I clutched his jacket, needing his reassurance more than ever.
“I’m sorry, Master,” I said with a gasp.
“Shhh.” His command feathered across my well-kissed lips. “I know, baby.” The low, sexy tenor of his voice hit me in places where I was most vulnerable. Right at the center of my heart and between my thighs.
“Get naked for me, then go lie down on your stomach on the rug.” He pointed toward the fireplace. “I’ll put our bags in the bedroom.”
Less than five minutes later, he had me sprawled by the fire. The rhythmic movement of his hands as he rubbed lotion into my skin cast me under a curious spell—one where the pain from the hairbrush ceased. But his gentleness also widened the crack in my spirit, until every last bit of sorrow and regret gushed from me in a torrential downpour. As I replayed my punishment, in which he’d extracted each vow, I wasn’t sure if I hurt for him or for me.