by Vonna Harper
“Ah, hmm,” she muttered. He didn’t respond, just kept the pressure going.
She was being invaded. Her body breached.
The hard object wasn’t comfortable. She couldn’t begin to convince herself it was. Muscles not designed to stretch so much gave way as the invasion sank into her. She wanted to fight it, to whirl around and attack, to grab the object, yank it out and heave it at the window.
At the same time, she accepted what her master had decided she needed and maybe deserved. He’d concluded she was worthy of this proof of his guardianship.
Something about the word ‘guardianship’ relaxed her. This wasn’t punishment but an undeniable statement about their relationship.
“There.” He pressed on the plug, seating it inside her. “Every time you move, no matter which way you position yourself when you sit, every step you take will serve as a reminder of what I’ve claimed.”
Her face in the bedding, she imagined being him. He’d withdraw his hand while making sure the plug stayed put. That done, he’d step back so he had an unobstructed view of the broad base that covered so much of her. The curved part wrapped around her crotch as if cradling it.
“Now for the test.” He pulled her back and up. She stood looking at the opposite side of the bed, her legs farther apart than usual. “Walk from one end of the room to the other.”
What she believed must be shame heated her cheeks as she obeyed. She refused to look at him, which left her overthinking what she was experiencing. The plug wasn’t going anywhere. Even when she pushed like she was having a bowel movement, it didn’t so much as shift inside her. The longer she remained married to it, the easier it was to accept. She didn’t want to reach for it, didn’t want to check to see if she could stimulate herself with it. Maybe—probably—she’d do that when she was alone.
“I’m not going to ask what it feels like,” he said, “because I don’t think you’d tell me the truth. I’m right, aren’t I?”
Staring out of the window with her hands pressed against her thighs and her feet splayed, she nodded.
“Look at me.”
Praying her legs knew how to do something as complicated as turning in a half circle, she obeyed. This way he could no longer see the base. His gaze locked on her breasts. He was obviously in no hurry to leave her. Maybe his intention was to stare wordlessly until she broke down.
So this is what it feels like to be possessed and controlled.
Until today she’d barely given the words a thought. Now they were everything—almost everything.
Damn it, not long ago she’d been in charge of her body.
“I saw.” She forced every bit of strength she had into making her words strong. “The scar on your spine. How did it happen?”
His expression darkened then froze. “Damn you.”
“It’s just a question. Why does it upset you so much?”
“It doesn’t involve you.”
“If you want me to agree,” she said, “you have to tell me more than you have.”
“What is this about? Maybe you want to go another round with these?” He held up his hands.
“Of course not.” The longer she talked, the stronger she felt. It was ridiculous to be having this conversation, but she’d gotten to him, and she might never have an advantage again. “Why won’t you answer a simple question?”
“Because I don’t have to.”
“Is it that, or are you afraid to open the door?” His expression became even sterner. She should know enough to stop. “Look, I told you something pretty personal. I don’t understand why—”
“What do you mean, personal?”
He couldn’t have forgotten. She filled her lungs. “I’m talking about being sexually abused as a child. Whatever the adults who were in charge of my life wanted, I had to give it to them.” She couldn’t go on.
“This isn’t the same thing.” He shook his head. “You haven’t given me much in the way of details, but I’m sorry it happened to you. So sorry.”
“That’s what I thought when I saw your back. You didn’t deserve—”
“What the hell made you say that? You don’t know what I’m capable of.”
Raw laugher burst from her. “What do you call this?” She reached behind her, tried to settle her fingers around the plug. “It gives me a pretty good idea what you’re capable of.”
“You and I aren’t at war. What happened between us today, the gift I left in you, is a world apart from what I experienced.”
“It looks like you came close to being killed.”
There it was again, that closed-up expression. She guessed he’d debated satisfying her curiosity, but for reasons she’d probably never know, he’d changed his mind.
“You must have nightmares. Memories.”
He shook his head, his gaze raking from her throat to her toes. They’d had an insane kind of sex not long ago, but obviously he was no longer interested in intimacy. She wanted to feel the same way, to not care how he’d been injured and what the aftermath was like.
“What about you?” he snapped. “Do you dream about your childhood?”
Sometimes. “No. I learned that’s counterproductive. Decided not to do it anymore.”
“It can’t be that simple.”
“Whatever.” She was getting cold. Would he object if she got dressed? “If you’re interested in the truth, all you have to do is look inside yourself. Touch what you can of your spine and acknowledge what you have to deal with all your life.”
How many times had his expression reminded her of a moonless night? Much as she needed to determine whether she could make him react like this again, the effort would further damage their relationship.
What relationship? She’d never had one remotely like this one. She needed to get away from him, not by quitting the job but by keeping distance between them until she had control of her emotions.
“I’m sorry I brought up my dysfunctional childhood,” she said. “It doesn’t matter.”
Frowning, he cocked his head. You’re lying, his expression said. “Maybe not today.” His mouth barely moved. “But we’re going to visit this again. The next time I expect you to be honest. I’ll insist on it.”
“What about you?” She was so tired that the plug barely made an impact. “Will you do the same?”
Chapter Fourteen
They were all so damn young, except for hooded eyes that had seen too much. As he watched the trio of newcomers exit Croft’s SUV, Banner recognized himself in how they studied their new-to-them surroundings. Not long ago, these twentysomethings wouldn’t have had any qualms about being deposited where they’d never been. Sadly, those days would never return. They’d jump at unexpected sounds, tense at an unanticipated sight. If an outsider questioned their reaction, they’d change the subject or pretend they hadn’t heard. Some would seek help. Others wouldn’t.
He was a member of the second category. Nothing his father had said or tried had changed that. He’d told his parents he’d moved on, had no interest in opening the wound.
Trying to keep from thinking any more than he already had, he took his measure of the soldiers. The shortest would probably be in his forties before he stopped being asked for his ID every time he stepped into a bar. The kid was slightly built but walked as if he weighed at least double what was in his medical records.
The blond to the kid’s left was well over six feet tall, with shoulders and chest a football coach would take a second and maybe a third look at. His pace had a fluid quality that made Banner wonder what kind of injury he’d sustained. Quite likely every step he took was deliberate, a painful decision to keep the truth to himself.
The final man, even more muscular than the tall blond, needed a shave and haircut. His hair was overdue for a shampoo and comb. Obviously the muscular soldier with the jerky, uneven stride hadn’t given a damn what he looked like for a long time. Banner wondered how much muscle tone he’d lost to still look as athletic as he did. Judging b
y how he walked, he’d spent considerable time in a hospital, undoubtedly cursing whatever hell had robbed him of the life he unwisely still clung to.
Wishing he didn’t care so much about the baggage the newcomers had brought with them, he approached. He wondered if Asha was watching. He didn’t know what was on her agenda today. Hell, he’d barely said a word to her in the five days since he’d gifted her with the plug. The next morning, he’d texted to let her know she could pull out the toy but to keep it nearby. She hadn’t responded.
Moving slowly, Croft came around the SUV’s far side. They hugged, two men with too much in common. They didn’t give a damn whether anyone questioned their sexual orientation. They’d seen each other cry, shed the same tears, heard the sounds that nightmares wrenched from them.
After a few words about how many more miles the SUV’s tires had in them, Croft introduced him to the trio. Banner shook hands with each man then gave them a rundown of the minimal rules. There weren’t any mandatory sessions with shrinks. As long as they took care of their personal needs, they could spend their time as they wanted, including trying out the off-road vehicles due to be delivered tomorrow. Money for electronic games had been allocated. If they had a preference, this was the time to speak up. The only hard and fast rule—they couldn’t stay in their rooms twenty-four-seven.
“I’m hoping I’ll see a lot of physical activity, as much as you’re capable of.” He pointed at a new modular building. “That’s the gym. It’s open around the clock. The equipment was donated. Most of it’s in decent shape, but I learned the hard way not to trust the leg press. It’s supposed to be repaired by the end of the week.”
“You’ve got horses,” the ragged-haired man who was named Dade said.
“Yes. Several mares. One stallion.”
“Where are they?”
“I’m not sure. There’s several pastures. I’ll have to ask the woman I put in charge of them.”
Dade sighed. “I used to rodeo.”
Banner studied the other men to see if Dade’s words had caught their interest. It didn’t look like it. After several seconds of awkward silence, Croft told the men to get their belongings and follow him. Banner went to the office, accessed a company that made electronic games and printed out their list. He’d never been into what he considered time- and brain-cell-wasters. Hopefully the residents would know which were worth the cost.
He wouldn’t ask Asha, he decided without much forethought. He’d be willing to bet she was like him, not particularly interested in modern technology. The conclusion made him feel old. Hell, he was out of step with much of today’s world. He also didn’t care.
Then what did matter to him, he asked the bastard locked in his brain. Fulfilling his dad’s dream for one. Buying a new truck—if he could ever make up his mind what he wanted. Getting through a night without the kind of dream that brought him upright and sweating. Fucking. Repeatedly slapping Asha’s luscious ass. Listening as she fought not to cry. Learning more about her childhood. Pummeling whoever had ruined what should have been her childhood.
Amend that. He didn’t want to care about her, or himself.
* * * *
“I’ve got them tucked in,” Croft said as Banner handed him a beer. Like the last time they’d been together, they were sitting outside the ranch house as the air cooled and the view darkened. “What do you think of this lot?”
“It’s too soon to tell. The one—Sam, right? What does he go, maybe a hundred and thirty pounds?”
“If that. He made sure we all knew he’s a computer expert. Security systems. According to him, the brass made a major mistake putting a weapon in his hands instead of taking advantage of his real skill. He doesn’t have much respect for any politician who believes we have to go nose to nose with New Undine.”
“He isn’t the only one who feels like that.” Banner upended his bottle and swallowed. Alcohol wrapped itself around his nerves and quieted him. “What’s his injury?”
“He lost the sight in his right eye and about half of the left. He works hard not to let people know.”
“Shit.” He debated finishing his beer here and now, then decided to let it last, because he had some talking to do and Croft was the only man, woman or child he trusted to keep what he said private. “What about Dade?”
Croft sucked on his bottle. “What do you want to know about him?”
“He said he’d done some rodeoing. Do you think that’s true?”
“I haven’t looked into it. No doubt about it, he was a jock before the army messed him up. You know how it is with young bucks. If they think they can get away with exaggerating, they’ll do it.”
“I wonder whether he specialized in brahmas or horses?”
“We don’t have rodeo stock. He won’t have to prove himself.”
Croft was right, which meant he didn’t need to concern himself with the muscular kid’s boasting—or he wouldn’t if he could assure himself that Dade and Asha wouldn’t have a reason to interact beyond the minimum. “Why is he on the list?”
“His hips got crushed when he lost control of the military truck he was driving. His internal organs are pretty well rearranged.”
“What about his—organ?”
“If you’re asking if he can still call himself a man, I think the answer’s yes, or it will be once his pelvis mends some more. He was in the hospital for over a month. His girlfriend was there for a while.”
“She’s no longer in the picture?”
“No.” Croft squeezed his bottle so hard Banner wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d shattered it. “My guess is she couldn’t handle his anger.”
“Or his fear of what his life is and will be like.”
“Yeah, that.”
Resignation clung to Croft’s words. Banner didn’t think his friend’s limp had lessened since he’d last seen him, but unless Croft wanted to talk about it, which he almost never did, there’d be no updates. Croft should probably be using a cane or crutch, but he didn’t want to draw attention to himself. He’d hate having to explain what had happened during the longest night of his life.
Croft and another soldier had been deep in New Undine near an enemy camp where, according to intelligence, several troops had been gathering. The pair’s assignment had been simple—learn as much as they could about the size and complexity of the camp. After spending a night close to those who would kill them on sight, they’d return to safety, hopefully with vital information. Croft and Johnny had taken pictures and had strained to overhear conversations. They’d counted heads and taken note of which officers were in charge. They’d intended to slip away during the interlude between when the quarter-moon stopped doing its job and the sun rose.
Only they hadn’t. Croft had spent a half hour keeping watch while Johnny napped. Then they’d switched. He’d never seen Johnny alive again, so Croft didn’t know whether his partner had fallen asleep.
At Johnny’s cry, Croft had jumped to his feet. He’d grabbed his rifle, his mind still tangled, and fired at movement. He’d kept firing until he’d run out of ammunition. Johnny had been on his own. He’d had to get to safety!
But a bullet had torn through his thigh. Knocked his legs out from under him.
Biting down on terror, he’d crawled into the bushes. He’d spent daylight hiding and coming close to bleeding out. When night had finally enveloped him again, he’d managed to put New Undine behind him. He hadn’t collapsed until he’d reached safety. Before agreeing to be helicoptered to a military hospital for five hours of surgery, he’d shared everything he and Johnny had learned.
Six months later he still blamed himself for leaving his friend.
“What about Andy?” Croft asked. “He strikes me as someone who doesn’t think past the end of his cock. Combine that with emotional baggage and you have trouble. I got the sense he’d like nothing better than to hump Asha.”
“He would.” If it were anyone else he wouldn’t bother continuing the conversation. “I
laid into him after he came on to her. Since then he’s kept distance between himself and me.”
Snorting, Croft stroked his thigh. “What about her?”
“What do you mean?”
“Did you lay into her?”
The question was double-edged. “If you’re asking what I think you are, the answer is yes.”
“Shit, man.” Croft leaned forward then back. “What did she do to deserve it? She doesn’t strike me as someone who pushes the boundaries.”
“I can’t keep an eye on her all the time. She has to assume responsibility for her actions. And to realize things can quickly get out of control if she isn’t careful.”
“What did you do?”
“I got her attention.”
“You spanked her?”
“Among other things.”
“Shit.”
“Don’t give me that,” Banner snapped. “She’s surrounded by messed-up, horny men. She needs to understand—”
“I got it. Was this so-called discipline for her sake or yours?”
“Go to hell.”
“Been there. Don’t want a repeat performance.”
He should apologize, tell his friend he’d spoken without thinking about what Croft had endured, but Croft knew that.
“Looking back,” Croft said, “do you think you accomplished what you intended to? She learn whatever lesson you had in mind?”
“Not at first, but eventually she opened up about some shit.”
“Regarding?”
Asha would resent and maybe hate him even more than she already did if she learned he’d shared what she’d told him, but he’d done a lot of thinking about what she’d revealed. Maybe it was time to get someone else’s perspective.
“She’s been through a lot. Dysfunctional childhood. Years of financial insecurity. Homelessness.”
“Does she jump at shadows?” Croft stood and slowly stretched his injured leg, his features tightening.
“If she’s scared, she keeps that to herself. She’s one hard-ass.”
“More than you want her to be?”