She met his gaze. There was a hint of teasing in his tone, the barest curve to his lips betraying his true mood.
Deflating, she nodded. “Sorry. I did screw that up. Guess I do owe you for that.”
He reached across the table and took her hand in his. “Seriously, Gabe, please go with me to the third class. And dinner.” His gentle tone tugged at her. “We can go back to the club later and just watch. Do you have better plans for a Saturday night? Because I know I don’t, and I’d much rather spend the time with you than sitting alone at home.”
She forced herself to look into his eyes. He’d slid back from the asshole line squarely into Alpha territory.
“They’re going to hate me,” she softly said.
“No, they won’t.” He squeezed her hand. “I promise you they won’t. I’ll talk to them. It’ll be fine. They’ll understand.”
“I’m not normally a flake like that, I swear.”
“I get it.” He released her hand after one last squeeze. “It’s okay. I understand.” He arched an eyebrow at her. “Frankly, my opinion is the only one that should matter to you in this situation. Please let me pick you up Saturday for the class. Do it for me, if nothing else.”
He was playing dirty. She took a deep breath and let it out again. It felt like she was about to jump off a cliff.
“Okay,” she softly said. “I’ll go.”
Chapter Seventeen
They texted back and forth on Thursday via their private phones. Gabe wouldn’t deny it felt good to finally sense she wasn’t alone in the world.
It was also a massive relief to have the truth out. To know Bill forgave her, understood her reasons for bailing on the class as well as hiding the truth about her identity from him at first, and didn’t hold it against her.
She also wouldn’t deny it was a relief to know she would get more alone time with him and rope. The thought that she might never experience subspace again had truly saddened her. How much so wasn’t clear until now.
Bill was a nice guy. He was a cop who could understand what she went through, what she did for a living. The stresses she was under, the things she’d seen and had to deal with. If she let things happen between them, she wouldn’t feel guilty about missed dinners or blown plans at the last minute because of a case.
He would understand.
He likely wouldn’t guilt trip her over it, either.
Friday, the task force met again in Venice. Bill and Gabe pretended nothing had happened between them, although Gabe had trouble keeping her eyes off him. It seemed every time she looked his way, his gaze skipped away from her like a panicked horse.
At least she wasn’t the only one who seemed to have it bad, and thank god her boss wasn’t there to see what was going on. She suspected he would have easily picked up on it.
And probably would have been highly amused by it, which would have only served to piss her off.
They had agreed Bill would come up to her condo after they finished working. When he arrived a little after seven, carrying a pizza, she nervously let him in. When he walked in and set the pizza on the counter, he looked out into the living room. “Oh, those are neat.”
She hurried to get paper plates ready. “What?”
He walked over to the coffee table and picked up a blue dog. “These. My wife used to knit things like this. Ami…amo… What are they called?”
“Amigurumis.”
“That’s it.” He set it down and appeared to be counting the others there and around the room. “Wow. You’ve been busy.”
“I donate them.”
“No bears?”
Damn him. Being with a cop would have an obvious drawback. He had a very observant nature, whether by training or temperament, it didn’t matter. “No bears.”
He turned. “Mind telling me why?”
She started to say yes, she minded very damn much, but then realized it would make her sound like a bitch.
She stared at the floor. “I… No bears. It’s not something I really like to talk about. Maybe another time.”
“Fair enough.” He walked back to the kitchen. “Is it okay if I kick my shoes off?”
She blinked before looking back at him. Apparently, he wasn’t going to grill her about the bears. Some guys might have taken her reluctance as a challenge to pry the answer out of her by guilt or guile. “Um, sure, yeah. That’s fine.”
“You all right?”
“Yeah. I’m fine.” Just shocked as hell. She’d expected him to want all the answers.
He tilted his head a little as he looked at her. “You realize that I’m not an idiot, right?” He smirked. “I was married. I’m not such a clueless guy that I can’t recognize when a woman really doesn’t want to talk about something. Especially when she flat out says so. I told you, I won’t play games. I’m a face-value kind of guy.”
“Thank you.”
“No problem.” He kicked off his shoes before walking into the kitchen again. “I do have an admission of my own, however.”
Her heart raced again, only in the bad way this time. “What?”
“I called Seth yesterday and told him what happened. Don’t worry, he won’t out you, believe me. He loaned me the bag of rope, and I have it in the car.”
The fear turned to… Well, she wasn’t sure what it turned into, only that she now stewed somewhere between turned on and trepidation. “Why?”
“You missed last week’s class. If you’re going to get caught up quickly, I need to go through stuff with you tonight. Besides, I wouldn’t mind the extra practice on you. And I’ll be happy to talk you through tying me up first. Fair’s fair.”
Now she felt badly again. “You didn’t get to practice at class?”
“Not really. Laura and Rob came to the class, and she volunteered to let me practice on her, but it wasn’t the same.”
“Why?”
He smirked. “If you don’t remember, Rob’s younger than me, and a county paramedic. He can kick my ass. Also, while I like Laura, I’m not attracted to her the way I’m attracted to you. It was definitely more fun working with you, where I wasn’t worried about offending you or accidentally touching an inappropriate area.”
She blinked. “You’re attracted to me?”
“Yeah. I thought I made that fairly obvious.”
Okay, yeah, he had, she just hadn’t fully processed it. “But I’m—” She clamped her mouth shut.
He stepped close and gently took her hands, waiting until she looked up into his eyes. “If you say you’re anything but beautiful, you’ll make me want to spank some sense into you.”
It suddenly felt very hard to breathe. “Beautiful?”
He cocked his head. “Okay, seriously? I know you said it’s been a while, but surely the last guy you were with told you how beautiful you are.”
“But I’m not skinny.”
“Really? That’s what you’re going with, the old I’m fat garbage? I think you’re gorgeous. I’m not attracted to skinny women anyway. My wife was five eight and a size sixteen most of the time we were together, and she was the most beautiful woman in the world, as far as I was concerned.”
He reached out and lightly tugged on her braid. “Your hair is gorgeous. You have the most amazing, beautiful eyes. You have a body I imagine I could wrap my arms around and squeeze against mine and not worry that I’m going to hurt you. You are a real woman, not fake, not manufactured in a liposuction clinic or too many hours in the gym. And, news flash, I’m not perfect either. Second news flash, it was your personality that drew my attention, not your looks. Your looks were the delicious frosting on an absolutely fantastic cake. But it doesn’t matter how great the frosting looks if the cake is just cardboard underneath.”
She felt her face heat. No one had ever talked to her like this before. “I don’t feel like delicious cake.” In fact, for most of her life, she’d felt like cardboard.
He pulled her into his arms for a hug that felt warm, welcoming, inviting.
> Loving.
“Gabe, give me a chance. Take what I say as my personal truth. I will never blow smoke up your ass. If I say I think you’re a beautiful person, I mean it. It’s not just pretty words. If we never get to a point where you feel comfortable taking this relationship to a sexual level, well, I’ll be disappointed, but I won’t walk away from you just for that. You’ve brought something into my life I thought was completely gone. For that reason alone if nothing else, I don’t want to lose you, however I can have you in my life.”
“What’s that?”
He palmed her cheeks and stared into her eyes. “You brought me hope.”
* * * *
Saturday morning, Gabe awoke early. Bill had left a little after eleven the evening before, their time together a blur of playful teasing and wonderful hours spent tying rope, as well as being tied.
Definitely something that revved her motor. To the point she almost regretted not asking him if he wanted to spend the night.
Then again, they hadn’t had the sex conversation yet and she knew they should. Among other conversations.
Was he someone she wanted to sleep with? Absolutely. The more time she spent with him, the more she realized how much she wanted to sleep with him. Considering how rare that feeling was for her, she wanted to take advantage of it.
Tonight wouldn’t be that night either, though. She knew that. She didn’t want to make a mistake and rush into something just because her hormones had kicked into overdrive.
And it also depended on how the others received her. They might be totally mad at her, despite what Bill insisted, and she might just want to go home after class and be alone.
Although she desperately hoped she was wrong about that.
She was ready when he arrived to pick her up early that afternoon, even though she’d been fighting a horrible case of nerves.
When she set the condo’s alarm and locked the front door, he stopped her before they could walk downstairs.
“Are you all right? Do we need to cancel this?”
The concern in his expression and voice touched her. She hadn’t realized how strongly she was telegraphing her fears.
It didn’t make any sense lying about it. “I’m worried about what they’re going to think. Which is bizarre, because I’ve never worried about that in my entire life.”
“It’s okay. That’s human. Do you trust me to know this will be all right tonight?”
She wanted to. She really wanted to.
She nodded.
“If at some point you feel you absolutely need to leave, just tell me, and we’ll go. All I’m asking is that you give it a chance. Fair enough?”
“Fair enough.”
Her stomach clenched the closer they got to the club. When they walked in the door, she was ready to turn around and walk out again when she spotted Leah standing at the desk and talking to the woman working there.
Leah was faster. She flashed Gabe a brilliant smile before rushing over to hug her.
“Everything’s okay,” the woman whispered in her ear. “Bill told us. We understand.”
The prickle of tears Gabe felt shocked and surprised her. She quickly blinked them away. “Thanks.”
“Hey, we’re used to cold feet, believe me. And you had very valid concerns. I’m just glad everything worked out for the good this time.”
Gabe was about to get her wallet out to pay for her class, but Bill beat her to it.
“I was going to pay for myself,” she told him. It was only fifteen dollars, but still, it was the principle of the matter.
He cocked his head at her, wearing that smirk she was quickly coming to associate with him slipping into a more Alpha mood. “The proper response is usually to say ‘thank you.’”
“I pay my own way.”
He stepped closer. “I asked you here. I can afford it. I want to pay for your class. If you really have a problem with it, or anything else I do, then say red and we’ll talk.”
“I—” Her mouth snapped shut. Code because he paid for her class?
His smirk broadened to a smile.
Dammit.
She knew that he was fully aware of the barrel he’d placed her over, playing with her to see what she’d do. Rather, she’d placed herself over the barrel. Her pride warred over which was the lesser hit to her psyche, letting him actually pick up the tab, or coding over something so—in her opinion—ridiculous.
No, not every sadist is into beating people, apparently.
She sighed in resignation. “Thank you.”
His smile turned into a beaming grin. “You’re very welcome, sweetheart.”
* * * *
Gabe wondered what kind of battle she’d have to deal with at dinner, but he shocked her. When they pulled into the parking lot, he turned to her before getting out. “May I buy you dinner, or would you feel more comfortable paying for yourself? Either way is all right, your choice.”
Relief. Their tiny power struggle earlier wasn’t going to morph into some monstrosity. Not tonight, at least.
“I would really prefer paying for myself, thanks.”
He nodded. “Not a problem. That’s why I asked. How did you feel when I made you choose between coding or letting me pay for your class?”
She stared at him for a moment before answering. “Honestly? It pissed me off a little at the time.”
“I could tell.”
“Then why did you do that?”
He leaned in, gently winding her ponytail around his hand. Today she hadn’t braided her hair, just pulled it back with an elastic band. He tugged just enough to make her lean toward him, that playful smirk curling his lips in an admittedly sexy way.
“Because I could, sweetheart. You keep worrying about me accepting you. That’s a two-way street. There are things I like to do. There are times I want to be in complete control. That doesn’t mean I’m a domineering asshole, but there will be things I will insist on. They might seem like little things to you, but they mean something to me. Coding will always be an option for you, but sometimes I will deliberately goad you into choosing to submit to me rather than coding for something you feel silly about coding for.
“The longer we spend together,” he added, “the more I will push that barrier, because I need you to see the real me, too. To the point where, hopefully, coding is always an implied option for you, but that you will choose to submit to me when I ask it of you because you want to, not because you’re afraid not to. I don’t want someone who will blindly do what I say out of fear or because they don’t know how to make up their own mind. I want someone who wants to do what I say, even if it’s something they don’t want to do and even though they know they always have the choice to refuse without there being any kind of negative consequence. And there will never be any kind of negative consequence for coding or refusing. Understand?”
She couldn’t yank her gaze from his.
She nodded.
“I’d like to hear you say it.”
She didn’t understand why her heart thumped like that.
No, wait, she did.
He was being dominant. A Dominant. He was showing her his other side.
The one only she got to see like this.
She licked her lips to wet them, although the spit seemed to have dried up in her mouth. “I know coding is always an option.”
He arched an eyebrow at her.
“What?”
“I’ll sit here with you as long as it takes. You’ll think of it.”
Gabe shoved away the wave of irritation that tried to flood her brain. That wouldn’t help her now.
What does he want?
She replayed his last comments.
She still wasn’t sure. She suspected she could outright ask him what it was he wanted, or even code and talk about it.
Bill had seemingly pierced her protective wall, figured out how to use her stubbornness against her to his benefit.
She eventually settled on something to try. “I know co
ding is always an option, Sir.”
It was as if a brilliant light flooded from his smile, his eyes, from the very core of his being. He pulled her closer and pressed a chaste, tender kiss to her forehead. “Such a good girl. Very good, sweetheart.”
It felt like the breath had been pulled out of her as his words echoed through her soul.
Good girl.
Her clit throbbed. She knew if she checked she’d be soaking wet, her cunt now desperate for a good, hard fucking.
Holy crap, what just happened?
She realized he was studying her, his smile shifting back to that calculating smirk from earlier. His grip tightened a little on her ponytail as his eyes narrowed. “That just struck a good kind of nerve, didn’t it?”
She nodded.
Another tightening of his grip. “I need an answer out loud, sweetheart.”
“Yes.”
He didn’t respond.
“Yes, Sir.”
He touched the tip of his finger to her lips. “Never forget that phrase,” he said, his voice sounding hoarse, strained. “Because it does to me what ‘good girl’ does to you.”
Chapter Eighteen
Sunday morning, Gabe stared at the ceiling after waking up. The light and shadows looked…wrong.
Feeling around blindly, she found her work cell phone and held it up so she could see the screen.
Holy crap! The time read 10:17.
She rubbed at her eyes. This was the latest she’d slept in in years. And she didn’t even have a headache. In fact, she felt pretty damn spiffy.
The night came back to her. Class, dinner. Going back to the club.
How she’d longed to be some of the women, and a few of the men, bottoming to their partners.
Not the heavy impact play. She’d had enough of that crap to last her a lifetime.
But the trust, the sensation of turning herself over completely to someone.
Broken Toy Page 13