Surrender

by Kitty Thomas

  Surrender

  Digital Edition

  Copyright 2017© Kitty Thomas

  All rights reserved.

  Digital Edition License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold or shared. If you did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Respecting the hard work of this author makes new books possible.

  Publisher's Note:

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Neither the publisher nor the author endorses any behavior carried out by any character in this work of fiction or any other.

  Surrender

  Table of Contents:

  Surrender

  Author's Note

  Acknowledgements

  Also by Kitty Thomas

  Author's note:

  Dear Readers,

  This book occurs in the same world as Guilty Pleasures and Broken Dolls. Technically these books occur in a chronological order storywise: Guilty Pleasures, then Broken Dolls, and then this book. However, it would be a mistake to think of this as a "series" or the third book in a "trilogy". It is not. It's a different character's story, and in fact, I don't exactly love that this book is in any way "tethered" to other books because I feel like this story is its own thing and should be experienced in that isolation.

  For that reason I won't be marketing it as part of a "series", but am mentioning here that there are other books in this world if you were not aware. (In fact, some edits were made to this book to make it feel more self-contained and to keep from diverting reader attention to questions about other characters that are answered in other books.)

  Thank you for reading,

  Kitty

  Chapter One

  Dani's Bar stood at the mouth of the bad side of town. But it was still close enough to the good side of town that an eclectic blend of respectable and shady customers always flowed through its doors.

  "You're late," Danika said as Julie pulled her long, auburn hair back with a hair clip.

  "I know, I'm sorry." Julie hung her coat on a wooden peg in the back and carefully slid her time card into the old machine. It was finicky. If she didn't do it just right, it wouldn't click and count her hours right.

  "Third time this week." Danika hated late people. And though her boss was only five foot two and a hundred pounds soaking wet, Julie didn't like to be on her bad side.

  "I'm sorry. My roommate is completely unreliable, and you know we share the car."

  "You need to figure out a way to get to work on time." Her boss sighed and pushed her long blonde hair behind her shoulder. "Anyway, he's out there at the bar waiting for you. He won't order until you get here."

  "Who is?" But Julie knew. Gabe Griffin. The man all her fantasies had revolved around since he'd started coming to the bar last April. Tonight he wore his standard white T-shirt that strained to cover the impressive muscles of his arms and back, Levi jeans, and some boots. She still didn't know what he did for a living, but she always imagined some kind of construction work. The white of the shirt seemed to glow against his dark tan and sun-streaked blond hair. But the back of him was nothing compared to the front of him and those startling green eyes that seemed as though they could read all your secrets.

  Danika laughed. "Girl, you've got it bad. You may as well own it."

  "Shut up. I do not have it bad. I'm not a thirteen-year-old school girl." Though she felt like it when he was near.

  Danika smirked. "Whatever you say."

  Julie went out to the bar, trying to push down the nervous giddy grin that would let him know how badly she wanted him. He smiled when she approached.

  "Your usual, Gabe?"

  "Yeah, sweetheart, my usual." His voice was something between a deep purr and a drawl. He must have been a big jungle cat in a previous life.

  She poured him bourbon and sat on the stool behind the bar. He downed it quickly and slammed the glass down on the counter.

  "Another."

  Julie poured a second. "Rough night?"

  "Nah. I just need a little liquid courage."

  "Oh?"

  "Hey Julie!" a drunk at the other end of the bar shouted. "Can I get another beer?"

  She turned to go fill the drink order, but Gabe's large hand closed around her wrist.

  "You're so tiny," he murmured as his thumb brushed softly against the back of her hand.

  Electricity shot up her arm from where he touched her. That dark, beautiful tan, contrasting against her more delicate pale skin. He definitely did some kind of outdoor work. Construction. Landscaping. Something rugged.

  "Julie... let me take you out sometime."

  These were the words she'd fantasized coming out of his mouth as cool spring had turned into the fire of summer, and then all throughout fall.

  "My boss doesn't like me to date customers."

  "Fuck that. They don't own you. Come out with me. When do you get a night off?"

  Julie's heart hammered in her chest.

  "Jules! Where's my beer?"

  "It's destroying your liver, Hank, hold on! I'm making a love connection over here!" She turned back to Gabe. "I'm off tomorrow. W-what time? Where will we go?"

  "Seven-thirty, and leave that up to me."

  "Julieeee!" Hank sing-songed from the other end of the bar.

  Gabe rolled his eyes. "Go, take care of him, but when you come back, I want you to write down your address and phone number for me so I can find you tomorrow."

  Another thrill of electricity went through her, this time down her spine. She'd imagined going out on a date with Gabe Griffin since he'd first stepped inside the bar. She didn't reply. Instead, she went to the other end of the bar to get Hank another beer. But when she returned, she dutifully wrote down the information he'd requested.

  He winked at her. "Your life is about to get very interesting." With that cryptic line, he got up off the stool and sauntered out of the bar.

  Danika came out from the back. "Did he just ask you out?"

  Julie didn't have to answer. The crimson of her cheeks was enough.

  "You know how I feel about my employees dating customers. It'll be nothing but drama."

  "Then fire me."

  Danika's eyes narrowed. "You know I wouldn't do that. Just don't let it get in the way of your work. And be careful. We get some shady characters in here."

  Yes. She'd heard the speech about Dani's sometimes unsavory clientele about a thousand times, and she'd seen enough of them first hand to know it wasn't just a cautionary tale. But Gabe didn't ping her radar like that.

  "I know... but... he's been coming here forever. I wouldn't accept an offer like that from any random stranger off the street."

  Danika shook her head and smiled. "If he looked like Gabe Griffin, you might."

  Julie didn't bother denying it. She wasn't sure what she would have done if Gabe had asked her out sooner. She'd like to think she'd have the good sense to say no and not throw caution to the wind for a pretty face and even prettier body. But she wasn't sure.

  The bigger mystery, however, was why now? Why tonight? He'd chatted and flirted with her for eight months. It had gotten to the point where she was sure he must be married—maybe to someone he no longer loved—and was looking for a cheap ego boost in the form of the worshipful looks she gave him each time he glanced her way.

  She'd convinced herself it was never going past casual flirtation. She'd convinced herself that was better. The fantasy could never be broken and spoiled that way. She could always keep and protect it if nothing re
al ever happened between them.

  And yet tonight, for whatever reason, he'd wasted no time securing her ready acceptance to his proposal of a night out. She hoped Danika was wrong about the drama.

  ***

  It was an unseasonably warm night. Gabe had been sitting in a red Honda Civic in front of Julie's apartment with the windows rolled down for the past half hour. She wasn't late; he was early. She still had five minutes before she'd be late, but he was about ready to pull away from the curb and disappear from her life forever.

  This was a stupid fucking idea. A nice girl like her didn't need to be getting mixed up with him. It was possible that his radar was wrong, but barring any eleventh hour blushing confessions, this girl was about as vanilla as God could have ever hoped to make one. She was sweet and a bit demure, and something in her screamed to something inside him. But the things he was into would scare her. She'd never go for it. That much he was sure of.

  It wasn't as if he planned to break out the whips and chains on date one. He had no intentions of sleeping with her tonight. No, tonight was an interview, though he already knew she wasn't the right fit for the position he wanted her in. Clearly he had the thinnest ribbon of masochism blended with his sadism or he wouldn't be bothering with this. He was already bargaining with himself.

  Along with a few friends, he ran a large secret, very illicit house that trained young kinky women into slaves for wealthy men who were similarly wired. A lot of money exchanged hands for this unorthodox service. As one of the partners, Gabe spent a lot of time naked with equally naked beautiful submissive women who ached to please him.

  Surely that was enough to scratch his itches. Julie didn't have to actually belong to him. Couldn't he have some nice vanilla thing with her and get his needs met at the house? Of course, he couldn't imagine this girl would actually go along with any of that. It would be cheating to her. No doubt she expected a nice, decent man who only had eyes for her and who liked to cuddle. Well, at least she could get one of those things. Gabe liked to cuddle. Never let it be said he was all growl and no purr.

  But if things went forward with her, he'd have to keep his work a secret. He hated lying. Why did he have to want this woman so much? Typically vanillas did nothing for him. He might notice one was attractive. He might appreciate that beauty from a distance, but there was no urge to get closer... to know her. Because it couldn't go anywhere. And what excited him most wasn't how a woman looked, it was how she submitted under his hand and begged for the opportunity to obey his commands.

  Yet, for the past eight months, he'd been torturing himself going to Dani's to flirt with the bartender who looked far too sweet and pure to ever work in such a dive. He wanted to rescue her and whisk her away to the house. He wanted her to be like him so it would be some dream come true rather than something that would elicit horror, as he was sure it would in reality.

  Whenever he'd visited the bar and flirted with her, every bit of kinky innuendo had sailed right over her adorable head. But despite all these realities, he couldn't stop thinking about her, dreaming about her, experiencing phantom scents of her perfume only to turn and find her not there. Finding her not there would stir an irrational anger in him that kept him going back to see her, to smell her in real life, to pretend this could be something.

  So here he was... for an interview Julie didn't know was an interview for a position he already knew she wasn't equipped to fill and wouldn't want to. There was no way this woman would ever willingly kneel at his feet and call him master. Never in a million years.

  Julie came out of her apartment then, wearing jeans and a dark red V-neck sweater. Her auburn hair was gently curled and hanging freely down her back, something he never got to see at the bar. Around her throat was a gold choker-type necklace. It looked way too much like a collar.

  Gabe gripped the steering wheel and took a long, deep breath. He had to remind himself she wasn't doing it to taunt him. She had no idea what seeing her like that did to him or what a band of metal like that around a girl's neck meant in his world.

  When she reached the passenger side door, she leaned down, her long loose curls falling into the car in a cascade. "Hey, you okay?"

  "Yeah, I'm fine. Get in. You hungry?"

  "Famished," she said as she got into the car. Nervous energy buzzed off her.

  What a cruel joke of the universe. She wanted him as desperately as he wanted her. And yet... they were pieces to different puzzles, never intended to be put together to make the same picture.

  "Do you like Japanese? I know a very nice Japanese place," he said.

  "Sakura?"

  "You know it?"

  "I'm passingly familiar. But, I'm not dressed nice enough for that."

  Gabe very much disagreed. If she looked any better he'd find some snug cave to drag her off to. "You look great. Anyway, I'm in jeans, too."

  She laughed. "Yeah, I would have been shocked if you'd been dressed up."

  Gabe chuckled. "Yeah, not much of a suit guy. I like to keep things simple." You're mine. You do what I say when I say it. That was simple enough, right?

  He shoved those thoughts out of his head and started the car.

  "Is it one of those places where they cook the food out in front of you at a big table?"

  "No, this place is a lot more intimate. In fact, I've got us a private room."

  "Good. I want you all to myself," she said.

  God, this girl was gonna kill him.

  She was quiet during the drive. Shy and nervous. If she knew what he was, she'd bolt out of the car the first time they stopped at a red light and flee him forever. He could have talked to her, eased the tension, but he liked her tension. If this was the most of that delicious energy he could get from her, he'd take it where and how he could get it.

  When they arrived at Sakura, he helped her out of the car and led her through the parking lot, his hand pressed against her lower back. She didn't tense or bolt from him, so at least she didn't seem completely against being led. Surely she must sense or realize the paternalism in the gesture, the control. She didn't buck like a wild horse, at least, or turn cold.

  When they reached the door, he opened it for her.

  She dropped her gaze slightly and murmured, "Thank you," and then went inside.

  Maybe he was wrong about her. She might be ignorant of the kink world, but there was something in her that wanted to submit to him even if she didn't yet realize it herself.

  A petite Japanese woman named Ishi smiled and bowed and guided them to a private room at the back of the restaurant. "Do you need a menu, Mr. Griffin, or should we bring your usual... for two?"

  "No menu," Gabe said. Ishi nodded and left them alone.

  He watched Julie's expression for some rebellion or offense that he would dare to decide what she would eat instead of giving her a list of choices to pick from, but she only smiled that nervous smile again. He might actually be able to work with this.

  He pulled out her chair. "Sit."

  Again, she sat, offering no complaint at the order. He smiled.

  "What is it?" she asked.

  "Nothing." He sized her up. Watching her reactions wasn't enough. He wanted to know what lurked inside that cute little head of hers. "Are you bothered that I told her no menu?"

  "Why would I be bothered? You seem to know this place well. I trust your judgment."

  I trust your judgment. Would that trust extend to the bedroom and all his darker desires? How long would that trust remain once he let loose with his full intensity on her? Five seconds? Maybe ten?

  She kept looking down at the table, at her hands, around at the Japanese paintings on the walls.

  "You're very shy," he said. "You aren't like this at the bar."

  She blushed. "Oh. Well, the bar is loud, and there are a bunch of people. I have to force myself to be bigger."

  So I don't get trampled, seemed to be the unspoken completion to that thought. She felt safe enough with him to reveal vulnerability. A posi
tive sign.

  "Gabe?" she said suddenly.

  "Hmmm?"

  "D-does it bother you that I'm shy? Am I not... am I not what you thought?"

  "Some of my assumptions have already been proven wrong, but believe me, they are welcome mistakes."

  A soft smile curled her rose-tinted lips.

  "How old are you?" he asked.

  "Twenty-two. You?"

  "Thirty-six."

  "Oh."

  "Is the age difference a problem for you?" he asked. Gabe knew he didn't look like the average thirty-six year old man. By this time, a great deal of them had let themselves go, if they'd ever kept themselves together to begin with—beer guts, hair starting to fall out, lines from hard living forming on their faces.

  "No, it's not a problem. I'm just surprised. I-it's kind of a big gap."

  "Indeed it is."

  "Is it a problem for you?" she asked.

  "No."

  Food was brought in then. The kitchen staff must have already started on it before they'd arrived, in case he wanted his usual. Empty plates were set in front of them, as well as chopsticks, some saki, and some tea both hot and iced. A second table was drawn up near the first where the food was brought in and placed. Extra tea, both hot and cold, and saki were left on a third table. As he'd requested. They were prepared not to interrupt him and discretely left the check.

  "Ishi?"

  "Yes, Mr. Griffin?"

  Gabe pulled out his card. "I'll go ahead and pay now. We've got everything we need here."

  "Of course, Mr. Griffin." Ishi left the room with his payment, and he turned back to Julie. "Shall we?"

  He took first her plate, then his own, and filled each with food.

  "Do you like saki?" he asked, prepared to pour her some.

  "I've never had it. I don't drink."

  It was the last thing he'd expected her to say.

  "At all?"

  "No. I-I was raised kind of religious. Nobody at my house drank. I'm not really religious now, but I don't drink. Not a moral thing, just not my thing."

  Gabe poured himself some and put the porcelain bottle back on the table. "But you work in a bar."