by Lexi Blake
It was his fault. It wasn’t Africa that had made her soft. It was Theo Taggart, with his whispers and caresses, always lying to her about how pretty she was. She wasn’t fucking pretty. She had a damn mirror and she could use it.
She wasn’t buying his bullshit. Didn’t need it. Didn’t want it. He was playing some kind of game with her and it stopped now.
“Hey,” he called out, catching up in a few strides of his long legs. He had a hand on her elbow, trying to pull her back.
It was the perfect excuse to get a little violent with him. She kicked back, catching him right in his perfect six-pack. There was a muffled groan and he went down on his ass.
“I said I don’t need a fucking babysitter, Taggart. That’s all you are, you know. A babysitter. You feed me and put me to bed and make sure my hair’s done right but other than that, you obviously aren’t man enough to handle me.” Something nasty had taken root in her gut and she spat bile his way because he was the only one around who could give her the fight she was desperate for, the only one who couldn’t ruin their mission.
It would utterly ruin their relationship, but she hadn’t believed in that anyway. It was better to break it than to be broken by it.
“What is that supposed to mean?” He hopped back to his feet and his shoulders squared as he stalked toward her.
This was what she needed. She needed a good fight, needed to destroy something, and if that ended up being something important, then so be it. The need to tear and rip was threatening to overwhelm her.
“It means I’m done playing your games,” she shot back, her voice low. They were well away from the clinic and the dorms, but she wasn’t giving up the op. They would still have to pretend, but she wasn’t doing it anymore when they were in private. That had been a terrible mistake.
“Game? What the hell game am I playing?”
“The limp dick game,” she shot back. “The one where you pretend to want me in order to control my behavior, but the truth of the matter is you can’t get it up and don’t want anyone to know.”
A harsh laugh came from the back of his throat. “Oh, my love, you are excellent at rewriting history, aren’t you? I’ve showered with you. You’ve seen how hard I can get around you. You’re angry that I haven’t treated you like a piece of meat. You’re pissed as hell that I won’t prove myself to be as bad as every other man you’ve known, but I’m not going to start now. This isn’t a game. This is our life and I won’t allow you to goad me into ruining it. I understand that you’re tired and emotional, but I won’t let you self-destruct on me.”
Of course he wouldn’t because he was Theo the fucking Great. He couldn’t be goaded. He was far too good and smart and upstanding to be goaded into acting like the rest of them.
“Fuck you, Theo. I’m done with you. Do you understand me?”
He stared at her, but there was a nauseating sympathy in his blue eyes. “Far more than you think I do. Baby, don’t do this. Tell me what you need and let me give it to you. Let me ease you tonight. I know how bad you feel.”
He couldn’t possibly. He’d always had that face and that sunny air. He’d had a brother who loved him. Hell, when he’d found two brothers he hadn’t known before, they’d welcomed him with open arms and made him part of the family. Maybe he hadn’t had all the money in the world, but he’d had respect and love. She’d had none of the three. She’d had a father who’d actively hated her. Theo wasn’t capable of understanding her. No one fucking was. “You don’t know a damn thing and you’ll step back if you know what’s best for you.”
He stood his ground. “I know something better, Erin. I know what’s best for you. Me. Give over and let me take care of you.”
Why the hell couldn’t he take a hint? “I don’t want you, Taggart. I don’t trust you and I have zero interest in you. I want a real man. I want a man who doesn’t whine and cry and need my undying love in order to fuck me.”
“I need your undying love because you have mine,” he said slowly. “But I’m beginning to think I’m going about this the wrong way. Maybe you need more.”
“More than you.”
He moved swiftly, his big body capturing her and pulling her close. He stared down at her. “Do you need me, Erin? I’ll take that. I’ll give you what we both need if you’ll admit that we belong together. No words of love. Simply tell me this works for you and I’m not like the other men and we’ll move this forward.”
This. Them. Nothing special because she wasn’t truly special, but then she knew that. She didn’t know what his real game was. Did he have a bet with his brother? With the other boys from Ten’s unit? Was he the kind of man who needed to know that he could have absolutely any woman in the world?
“You don’t work for me, asshole. None of this works for me. I’m playing along because I don’t want to lose my job. I’ll have to leave this job because the boss’s brother is an asshole who can’t take no for an answer.”
He paled a bit. “That’s not what’s happening and you know it. Your job isn’t in jeopardy. Am I wrong? Have I scared you? It wasn’t my intention.”
His face was so earnest. He had scared her, but not physically. He wasn’t the type of man who would impose his will on a woman. He would never force himself on her. He sure as hell wouldn’t fight her and that pissed her off.
But his existence made her antsy, anxious. Angry. He was a prize she could never be worthy of. “Fuck your intention.”
He sighed. “Let’s go to bed, Erin. One day you’ll understand that you are everything to me. You’re the reason I was born. You’re the reason I’ll hold on long after I should have died. But today, let me comfort you. Let me do what I was born to do.”
The words pierced her, so sweet and so untrue. She didn’t deserve any of it. Not a single syllable. He was wrong. Or he was cruel. She wasn’t sure which but either way she hurt. She ached with love for him and she couldn’t stand it.
She punched him. Hard. In the nose. It was what she did. She felt bad, she did some violence.
Theo shrank back, cursing. “Damn it, Erin.”
“Fuck you, Theo.” It was all she could say. What the hell was she supposed to do? Beg for forgiveness and comfort and solace because he might—god, please—love her? She couldn’t do that. Couldn’t get super soft and subby for him.
His eyes went hard. “Don’t do this. I want to be tender. I want to hold you and let you feel precious. But if you push me, I’ll do what I need to do. What you need me to do.”
Her hands fisted at her waist. Maybe she would still get her fight. “Bring it, Taggart. I’ll fuck you up. That’s what I need.”
“It doesn’t have to be this way.”
But it did. “Screw you.”
“All right, baby. Whatever you need.” He was still for a moment and then turned away. He was leaving. He was walking away from her. There went the violence she needed. He turned back, his face falling like a fucking sad-sack baby. “Can I grab my bag? I’ll work the shift. You do need some sleep.”
In their bed. Alone. “I’m not sleeping, Taggart, but you can definitely get your bag and get out.”
Her mind started whirling with bitter possibilities. She could use this breakup to get closer to Faith. Yes, maybe that would work. Maybe she could even stay with Faith and get the shifts moved around so she wouldn’t have to see much of Theo. If Big Tag fired her, so be it.
She started walking toward the small building that had been their home for weeks. Domesticity had drugged her into becoming something she wasn’t. She’d begun craving the time they spent together in their tiny house. They would eat at the commissary with the rest of the staff, but every morning he would wake up early and prep her coffee. He would climb back into bed and they would sit in the early morning light and drink coffee and talk.
And at night, after a long shower, she would pour them each a glass of Scotch and sit on his lap and watch a movie.
How long would it be before she felt like that again?
<
br /> “What is it?” Theo had stopped, his hand on the doorknob.
Tell him. Tell him you were a bitch and that he’s right and you’re so tired you can’t think straight. Ask him to take you to bed and hold you and maybe you’ll find a way to cry and get the toxic shit out of your system because it’s killing you.
Instead she rolled her eyes. “You’re being slow, Taggart. Grab your bag and get out.”
“Not going to give on anything, are you?”
She didn’t have anything to give him. That was the real problem. He brought sunshine and she was used to rain. “Could you hurry it up?”
He opened the door and stepped away to let her in first. She stepped through the door and he was on her in a heartbeat. He caught her completely off guard, tossing her over his shoulder in a fireman’s hold.
“What the fuck?” She started pounding on his back with her fists.
There was a loud smack as the flat of his hand rained fire down on her ass. He managed to grip her legs so she couldn’t kick at him and still had the strength to smack her ass hard. “You want to do it your way, then I can be the hardass Dom. What’s your safe word?”
Safe word? He was asking about her safe word? It was something they’d agreed on a long time ago as part of their cover.
“It’s Winnebago.” The worst vacation she’d ever had had featured a Winnebago. She’d been seven and her father had left her in a bathroom in Wyoming. It had been eight hours before he realized she wasn’t there and he’d punished her for forcing him to drive back to get her.
“Use it if you need to.”
“I don’t need to use my fucking safe word, Taggart.”
Another hard smack. “I think I’d like some courtesy from you. I’m bending. I’m doing what you need so you can either stop cursing me or I’ll punish you for real.”
She knew she should stop this here and now. Spit out her safe word and then chuck him straight out of their house. It would be easy enough to do. Theo would follow the rules.
He was also a sneaky bastard who would make her admit what she wanted one way or another. Not saying her safe word was basically the same thing as admitting she needed him.
So her best option was to get out of the game altogether. In this case, retreating would win her the war.
And leave her alone.
“Fuck you, Baby Tag.” She knew how that annoyed him, knew how it rankled to have everyone compare Case to Ian but label Theo as the baby, the one who needed the others to watch out for him. Yeah, she always knew where to stick the knife in.
He moved into the bedroom. His kit was in the closet, but he hesitated. She could practically hear his mind whirling. If he put her down, would she run? He didn’t trust her.
He shouldn’t because she would run. She would make it as hard on him as possible without saying her safe word. She would make him hurt her because she did need it. She so deserved the pain and none of the real pleasure.
If she could draw out the nasty Dom, the man deep inside who needed to hurt someone a little to feel big, maybe they had a shot at a D/s only relationship. She could curb her need for him by bottoming. She would never be his girl, but she might be his submissive with clearly drawn boundaries and limits placed on them both.
He proved more creative than she’d given him credit for. Theo grabbed the long cord that charged her laptop and tossed her on the bed, face first. He immediately covered her body with his, his hands drawing her wrists together and binding them quickly.
Fuck, he’d been fast and that did something for her. The horrors of the day were slowly receding as she concentrated on giving her Dom as much hell as she possibly could. He hadn’t gotten her feet yet so she tried to bounce him off her.
Theo put a hand on her back. “You stay down or I’ll clamp those pretty tits of yours before we get down to business.”
He eased off her cautiously, like a cowboy unsure as to whether the calf he’d so recently tied would hurt him or itself.
She was in the mood to do both. Erin flipped over and started to kick out, but the room was too small and he caught her before she could truly connect. His mouth twisted in a vaguely cruel grin as he held both her ankles in a single hand.
“All right, sub. Clamps it is. You want to go for a plug? Yeah, I checked my whole kit. I’m sure whatever passes for TSA in the various countries we’ve visited loved looking through that. Do you know what I do every day while you’re having breakfast with Faith?”
“Jerk yourself off while listening to teen pop?”
He reached over to the tiny closet they shared and came back with the single tie he’d brought. One suit. One tie. Just in case, he’d told her. It looked like the tie would get some use in. He wrapped it around her ankles as he spoke. “I take out every toy and I carefully wash it and make sure it’s ready for use because I wake up every morning hoping you’ll decide today’s the day you’ll finally love yourself enough to let me love you, too.”
“Don’t spout that psychological shit to me.”
He shrugged and continued on. “I look over all of it and I remember that I bought every single toy with you in mind. Not a one of them has been used on anyone else. They’re for you. They’re to torture and pleasure only you. You’re the only sub I’ll ever take and if you can’t find the bravery to say yes, I’ll pack it away and never use it again.”
She could feel emotion strumming through her and it made her sick inside. She couldn’t handle it. If he kept it up, she would be a sobbing mess and she didn’t fucking cry. Never. Crying made her weak. “I don’t want this, Taggart. I want the play, but I don’t want this sentimental shit you’re pushing.”
His jaw tightened. “I thought I told you to stop cursing me. I don’t curse you. I expect a modicum of respect when I’m topping you.”
He flipped her over and she heard him rustling through the closet, likely reaching for his kit.
What was she doing? He didn’t truly want this. He’d even told her. He was playing at being the top. He didn’t need it the way she needed to bottom. It wouldn’t work because he was pretending something he didn’t feel.
Then she groaned because something hard and nasty came down on her butt and she couldn’t breathe for a moment.
“It’s a cane. You like a bite of pain, well I can give it to you. You want to howl, baby. I’ll make you scream.” He brought it down on her again, this time hitting the backs of her thighs.
The pain bloomed through her, crisp and right. It flared and then sent shivers through her body. Her skin was suddenly alive when she’d felt flat for so long.
He caned her with a steady hand, the strikes moving from the flesh of her ass down her thighs. The ache began, but it was physical and so much easier than the one in her soul. This ache was a gateway to something else, something freeing.
He stopped and she heard more movement and then she felt him tugging at the waistband of the scrub pants she’d taken from the clinic. The sound of fabric tearing made her tense.
“Don’t move. I don’t want the knife to cut you.”
She went still. “Those aren’t mine. And don’t even think about cutting my underwear off.”
She felt it go.
“If you wanted to save it, you wouldn’t have forced me to tie you up,” he growled her way. “Damn, but you’re pretty.”
“I told you no sentimental crap, Taggart.”
“And I told you to show me some respect.”
She couldn’t see what he was doing. After a few seconds, she felt him tug the pants and underwear off her, leaving her naked and exposed from the waist down.
“I don’t give a shit what you think about your own ass. I think it’s beautiful and fuckable and my dick hurts looking at it so you can keep your opinions to yourself or I will gag you. I think this whole evening might go better if I shove a ball gag in your mouth and take away your right to degrade yourself and the experience. Do you treat all your Doms like this? Or is it special because you don’t have an ounc
e of respect for me?”
That question made her feel nasty. She’d always respected the lifestyle. Since the day she’d found it and knew she had a place in D/s, she’d given every man who’d topped her the respect they deserved. They’d all been carefully selected. None had ever hurt her and Theo Taggart wouldn’t physically harm her on any level.
“I’m sorry, Sir. I do know the rules.” No Dom wanted to listen to his sub moan and complain about her body. Self-denigration was frowned upon. Doms in her world took pride in building their submissives’ confidence.
He gripped her hips and she found herself with her backside in the air. “It’s pretty when it’s all nice and pink.”
He slapped her ass, this time with his hand. His hand was on her, cupping her and holding in the heat from the smack. After a moment, he ran his hand over her, fingertips tracing across her skin.
Yes, that did make her feel pretty. The trouble was she wasn’t treating Theo like any other Dom. If they were going to try a pure D/s relationship, she had to start and that meant trusting him to bring her peace and pleasure. It meant giving over to him and letting herself find subspace. She could fight him again tomorrow. In the morning she could lay out all the new rules and they could sit down and bang out a contract that was for more than the operation.
But less than her soul.
She would be satisfied with that. Until he found the woman who could match him. Some day he would find a woman with his same shiny sunniness and she would be left out in the cold, but at least with that contract in place, she would never forget it. She would always know she was a placeholder for Theo Taggart’s real woman.
“I think you’re beautiful, Erin.” He smacked her again, every stroke feeling like admiration to her. He said the right words to go with the very same actions that the vanilla world would deem cruel. They were perfect for her. Kind words. Hard hands. Agreed upon actions.
She groaned as he tore her tee shirt apart and then unhooked her bra. At least that would be salvageable. She had so few of them. He ran a hand along her spine.