by Sara Brooks
His head dropped to her chest, his tongue dragging tortuously along the underside of her breasts again. The slick sandpaper texture of his tongue glided over her skin, arousal following everywhere he touched. Releasing him, her fingers sought purchase against the smooth surface of the comforter.
“Put your arms up above you.” The tone of his voice was strangled and low as she lifted her hands in compliance. Even without his ropes and sex furniture, his commanding presence came through. She reveled in the way her body responded.
Her slim fingers curled around the edge of the bed, her knuckles turning white as she gripped tightly to push up against him. A thin film of sweat beaded along her forehead, her eyes squeezing tightly shut in concentration.
“Beth,” he whispered as he drove into her. “Look at me.” His hips ground rhythmically against her as he slipped in and out.
The concern lining his face caused her to lift her hand, smoothing away the hard lines marring his forehead as he slowed his pace. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” He shifted his weight to one arm, lifting his hand to cup around the intricate piece of knots he’d placed on her throat. “I want to claim you, Beth. Brand you as mine. Push you further than you’ve ever been pushed before and know I’m the only one who’s ever taken you there. This collar stands as more than just a symbol of my love for you.” His lips touched lightly against hers.
The words made her heart soar and she finally confessed what she’d held close to her heart for the past few weeks. “You already have. Everything you do shoots straight through me. It reverberates right down to my soul, telling me this is so right. I am yours, Master.”
“As I am yours.” The promise slipped past his lips in a soft oath as he pressed himself forward, burying his cock as far as she would allow.
The room around her splintered, her cries resonating through the large room as the strong orgasm clenched hard inside of her and violently released. Her lungs burned for air, her heart thundering in her ears as the waves relentlessly pulsed through her. Her muscles milked, caressing the entire length of his shaft in an effort to pull him right along in the ecstasy with her.
Exhilaration mingled with pain in a sensual caress, culminating in the feeling of being so completely at one with him. She couldn’t differentiate where she ended and Ryan began. The most basic of all feelings, cut to the very core of existence. This was her and Ryan together, stripped down to nothing and painfully raw.
She began chanting his name, calling for him to release his own grip on reality and plunge after her. His mouth crushed down on hers as his body went rigid and he plunged them both into oblivion.
* * * * *
Hours later, Ryan ran his hand along her back, tracing the sloping curve as she lay pressed against him. He hadn’t fallen asleep right away, instead spending the time listening to her slow breathing. She hadn’t fallen asleep right away either, but a long night of work had finally caught up with her.
She was tough.
But there was still a sweetness about her that sliced at his very existence. She played video games and rode a Triumph, for Christ’s sake. And the never-ending retro tee-shirt collection that made Allison envious. How many more facets were there to this extraordinary woman?
Something told him he’d only scratched the surface.
Despite all the darkness in her life—the suicide, the brutality—she managed to smile. Hell, she seemed to outright enjoy life whatever it threw at her since she’d moved to town. And here he’d played it safe for too long and even gotten complacent with avoiding his life.
He traced the soft lines of the marks she’d kept hidden from him. “You are definitely not some delicate Southern flower afraid of a little autumn frost, are you?”
She stirred in sleep, his fingers tracing the scars on her back until she slipped deep again. He smiled at her exhaustion. Shortly after making love, he’d carried her to the shower area to wash them both. But he hadn’t been able to keep his hands off her luscious body and instead of washing her, pushed her up against the shower wall to take her from behind.
The sound of her voice screaming out the orgasm still echoed in his ears. That was a sound in his head he cherished. It caused him to smile in the dark as he continued to smooth his fingertips over her spine.
“Can’t sleep?” Her voice, heavy and thick with sleep, caressed his skin.
“I have to go to New York.”
She propped her head up, pressing her lips against his shoulder. The feeling spread through him like a shockwave. How was it possible to still want her even after taking her numerous different ways over the past several hours?
“I’ll go with you.”
The statement caused his boiling blood to cool. No, he would not have this ugly part of his life touch her or sully up what they’d both worked hard to build between them. Especially not tonight. They’d turned a corner. He wasn’t interested in making a u-turn. “That’s all right. It should only take a few days. I’ll be back before you know it.”
“Ryan, please, I want to come.”
“It’s easier for me to go alone. I can get things done quicker.”
“Easier for whom?”
He ignored her question. “It’s just some boring legal crap I have to handle. You can’t really up and leave the station without an overnight DJ, can you?”
She shrugged. “I can pre-tape my show and have someone fill in for me to flip the switches when necessary. It’s only a few days, right?”
“I’ll be back on Saturday. Want to get together after your shift?”
“Ryan—”
He pulled her closer, skimming his lips over her forehead to plant a kiss near her hairline. “Beth, please. Just let it go, all right? Everyone’s getting together at The Copper Nickel for dinner and drinks before Cooper’s movie festival this month. It’ll be fun for you to go without me.”
He recognized the pain in her eyes at the brusque dismissal. Though he regretted the need to make this trip alone, it also couldn’t be helped. Not even Dade would accompany him.
This was something he knew he had to do alone.
Chapter Eighteen
“Hey, girl, how are you?”
“All right. You?” Beth slid into the chair next to Elena at The Copper Nickel, smiling as best as she could manage. Her shift at the station had been miserable. She knew Ryan had left on some trek he insisted on taking by himself. It was wrong of her to need to be included, to go along with him when she had no right, but the curt dismissal still stung. She’d inevitably get over it well before he returned, but until then she felt it was perfectly acceptable to mope.
“You sure?” Elena inquired as she handed over a spare bottle of beer. Beth accepted it with her thanks, nearly downing the bottle in one swallow. “Whoa, cowgirl. Gonna be a short night if you keep that up.”
“Sorry. Rough day.” She pushed her hands through her hair, tugging slightly in frustration.
“The reason wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain Dom, would it? Or the collar I see around your neck?”
“It shouldn’t, but it does.” The reminder of the item caused her to run a finger against the rope. Even in the short period of time she’d been wearing it, she’d already forgotten about its presence because of the light weight. “How sad am I?”
Allison plopped down next to Beth with a beer in her hand. “Not sad at all. But you’ve fallen and didn’t expect it, did you? And holy frak, you’re wearing a collar. That’s not decoration, is it?”
“No, it’s not. I’m just frustrated.”
“I remember feeling just like you are right now.” Allison nodded, leaning forward on her elbows. “Could always take out those frustrations somewhere else, or with someone else. Test what you’ve been taught.”
Beth followed their gazes to Dade. He smiled and tipped his beer toward her before returning to his conversation with Alex. Her cheeks burned hot at the reminder she didn’t need. “No.”
“Oh darling,
you have it bad.”
“Have what?” Allison and Elena both smirked. “Not just no, but hell no.”
Allison snorted and pointed to her neck. “Uh huh. And the collar you’re wearing means absolutely nothing.”
“He said he had to go. Something about New York and…and…I don’t know. It’s not because he didn’t take me along with him. Really. I totally understand. It’s probably more to do with the fact he’d just collared me. And Christ on a broken fucking trampoline, I sound like a weepy, needy mess of a woman that I hate.”
Elena grabbed her hand, tugging her away from the group. “You know it’s something he just had to do on his own, right? He’s not trying to shut you out.”
“Could have fooled me.” She rubbed at her forehead, wincing at her behavior. “I don’t mean that.”
“I know you don’t. You’re understandably emotional about this all. The fact you care enough to feel he purposefully pushed you away tells me things are well beyond what you expected out of this deal, aren’t they?”
Beth sagged against Elena’s shoulder, grateful someone understood. “Yes. Dammit. How did I let this happen? I just needed someone to help me and he set up shop right inside my heart, didn’t he?”
Patrick and Alex entered the sitting area, waving to everyone.
“He can be annoyingly persistent, can’t he?”
“God. Yes. And fuck me for loving every second of it.”
“Come on. Let’s have a good old session of men bashing even though we love the hell out of them.”
A short few hours later, they stumbled down the street. Though she was certain Elena had more to drink, Beth felt her head spinning. Exhaustion didn’t help matters. She just wanted to sleep for a few days, then she’d feel better.
“You sure you’re going to be all right here for the night?”
“I’ll be fine. I don’t want anyone to have to go out of the way. I know it’s supposed to be Ryan’s night here anyway. Unless one of you guys need it?”
“Not that I know of. They’re all going to be at the theater. Want me to stay and keep you company?”
She winced at the thought of keeping her away, especially because she knew Elena enjoyed the monthly film festival. “I’m fine. I’m going to go curl up on the fancy bed Ryan has and sleep for the next few days. I haven’t been getting much sleep lately.”
“Give me a call when you decide to surface. We’ll meet at Perfect Shot for a cup of coffee. Have some more girl talk.” Elena winked.
Beth pulled her into a tight hug. “Thank you, Elena. For everything.” Beth had never felt this connected to someone before. Even when they’d known each other in college, their friendship had never been this close. She was grateful she’d thrown caution to the wind and upset her entire life to make this huge change.
It had paid off in spades.
“Go before I get all girly and mushy on you. I know you hate it.”
Beth waved as Elena vanished around the corner and shut the outer door with her hip. Her fingers danced over the surface of the separator walls as she walked down the hallway. She turned the corner, her fingers curling around the collar Ryan had given her.
Its presence would take some getting used to. Especially considering the fact she’d never worn one this important. In some way, she was glad she’d never had one at any prior point so she could appreciate this one even more.
The door stuck, as usual, and it took some finessing in the form of a few powerful shots from her shoulder to get it open. She growled at the keys as she tossed them to the table, slamming the door behind her. The noise of it echoed in the open space.
She was pleased to see Ryan had left the bed where it stood before he’d left for New York. She discarded her clothing as she trudged to the bed, sighing loudly as she dropped onto the soft, supportive mattress. It hugged her body, holding her comfortably while she drifted off to sleep.
A loud noise woke her sometime later. She sat up, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand. The sleep she’d been awakened from had been deep and consuming. So deep she hadn’t even dreamed.
A sharp bang reverberated through the room. She realized it was someone shoving their shoulder into the door, just as she’d done when she’d tried to enter. Considering all the occupants complained frequently enough about the doors at the warehouse, the noise didn’t disturb her enough to worry. More than likely, Ryan had cut his trip short.
The door finally gave with a groan, spilling the person trying to get in through the opening. Beth rose, grabbing one of the posts, hoping she looked sexy and suggestive for her Master. She jumped when he kicked the door shut with a violent slam. Had his trip not gone as planned?
Worried now, she rushed forward but was brought up short when the man lifted his head. Her past slammed into her with such force, it stole her breath. The recognition sent her reeling as he squarely met her gaze.
Murdock.
He was in front of her in a flash, his fist a blur through the air.
She had a second to curse Ryan’s ingenuity with soundproofing the walls before her world went black.
* * * * *
The courtroom filled with silence as concert footage played out on the television set. Watching the video again caused his heart to ache. But the pain wasn’t because of those images.
Not this time.
Seeing this again so soon made him realize how much he wanted Beth sitting here beside him, giving support as he fought to ensure this bastard didn’t go free on some legal technicality. He couldn’t bring Lisa and Tobias back, but he could stand up for them and see justice served. Knowing Beth, she would want the same thing.
As the tape finished, the image turned black. He braced himself, knowing what was about to come. Red lights flashed as the camera quickly came into focus. The jarring motion made him queasy, but he pushed it down, steeling himself for what he knew lay ahead. The person holding the camera stopped running so the image of the tour bus lying on its side came into clear focus.
Smoke and dust particles drifted in the night air, rising from the nearly unrecognizable pile of twisted metal. Sense recall kicked in. He remembered the smell of the smoke and gas surrounding him. He heard the tortured cries of those on the bus, an easy memory to pull to the surface because he’d been in the mangled wreckage as well.
He’d been asleep, exhausted from the show. Lisa had been beside him with Tobias in a bunk just forward of the bedroom. He swallowed the bile rising to his throat as the camera drew closer to the wreckage. A man stumbled into view of the camera then. The very same man who sat just a few feet away from Ryan in the courtroom.
The video showed blood pouring from a gash on his forehead, but he was otherwise uninjured. The cameraman drew closer, his bright light shining on the man’s face. His pupils should have gotten smaller against the harsh light. Alcohol and cocaine saturating his system prevented the reaction.
“Am I on TV?” He smiled for the camera, running a hand through his mussed hair. He didn’t even notice when his hand came away coated with blood.
The lawyer punched the pause button. Bloomington’s drunken gaze stared at the small crowd. But Ryan wasn’t watching the television anymore. Just as he hadn’t listened to the lawyer during the hearing. Instead, he remembered how it had felt to crawl through the twisted remains of the bus. He remembered the burn of the gas on his skin. He swore he could still feel the sewage from the toilet and even the blood of the injured coating his hands as he’d tried to provide assistance.
He remembered what it felt like to hold his dead wife’s body in his arms, her form limp because she’d died on impact. The medical report would later show it was because she’d been thrown forward from the force and slammed head first into the bulkhead separating the bedroom from the rest of the bus. She’d never had a chance because this bastard had gotten behind the wheel and made the stupid choice to drive while intoxicated.
He recalled hearing a child’s scream in the silence and realizing it was To
bias. He hadn’t wanted to leave Lisa, but he’d had to. It had been one of the hardest choices he’d ever had to make in this life.
Well, the second hardest.
He’d felt such joy and elation at finding his precious son still alive. But the joy had been short-lived when he discovered the boy was pinned and there didn’t seem to be any way to free him. He’d felt helpless and completely alone just inches from where his child lay dying.
Tobias’ screams haunted him every day for a year after the crash.
They still haunted him to this day—the high-pitched cry for help echoing in his head. Until Beth entered his life. She stopped those noises and gave him the clarity that always seemed to be just beyond his reach.
The sharp crack of the judge’s gavel snapped Ryan back to the present. He stood as the judge left and the deputies came to take Stockard Bloomington back to jail to rot until his next parole hearing.
Stockard turned and Ryan came face-to-face with the man who’d taken everything from him. The very man he was determined would never step foot outside those prison walls again as payment for his sins.
The rapidly aging man leered at him and Ryan’s hands tightened at his side. The drugs and alcohol—not to mention the withdrawal symptoms—had not been kind to the man. Seconds before he threw what would have been a very satisfying punch, and violated his own probation, Ryan stopped. Stockard was goading him to do something stupid so they’d be on the same playing field.
Ryan refused to stoop to his level.
He was not the same as this monster. He had someone to live for. Someone to support when times got tough. Someone who would return the support when he found himself in need of it as well. He wouldn’t throw away a future with Beth because this asshole had taken away Lisa and Tobias.
Instead he stood, watching as the courtroom emptied.
For some unknown reason, he felt lighter. Freer. As if nothing could ruin the swell of warmth spreading inside him. He’d done what he felt was his duty to the family members and friends he’d lost. He’d stood up for them because they couldn’t stand up for themselves.