Collaring Brooke (Club Zodiac Book 3)

by Becca Jameson

  He parked several yards from her Pontiac, turned off his engine, and jumped from his truck. He jogged the distance from his vehicle to hers and came to a sudden stop when he saw inside.

  For a moment, he couldn’t breathe, and then he let out a long, slow exhale. She was inside, curled on her side in the fully reclined driver’s seat, a pillow stuffed beneath her head, a blanket covering her body.

  She didn’t move. She didn’t appear to know anyone had approached.

  Another glance at her back seat filled in the blanks. She wasn’t waiting on him to leave so he wouldn’t follow her home. She didn’t have a home. This car was her home.

  He staggered back a few steps, trying to control his emotions. Fuck. Why was she homeless? She had a job. He doubted it paid well, but it was a job. Why was she living in her car?

  He ran a hand through his hair, pacing back and forth, trying to pull his emotions together so that when he approached, he wouldn’t scare the fuck out of her.

  Finally, several deep breaths later, he closed the distance and leaned against her car. Before he could figure out what to do next, she bolted upright. His shadow must have alerted her. At least she wasn’t fully asleep. He feared he’d scare the piss out of her if he rapped on the window.

  “Jesus,” she shouted, setting a hand over her heart. “Are you kidding me?”

  He waited.

  She turned her head away from him and stared out the passenger window, her chest rising and falling with every breath.

  “Brooke,” he said loud enough to reach her, “open the door.”

  “No.”

  It occurred to him that he’d never heard her cuss. The harshest word she’d said since he met her was Jesus, spoken a few seconds ago. “Open the door,” he repeated. “I’m not leaving.”

  She flopped back down on her side and curled into a ball, drawing her knees up to her chest. She looked so small and vulnerable. Was she crying?

  Her body shook. Yeah. She was crying.

  Dammit.

  He lowered his voice. “Brooke… Baby, please open the door.”

  She didn’t obey his command, but she did curl in deeper, turn farther away, and sob harder. He could hear her now.

  “Baby, please…” His chest literally hurt for her. What happened in her life to bring her to this moment? He had no idea, but he fully intended to fix whatever it was.

  He knew very little about this woman, but it didn’t matter. It was enough. She was alone. She was homeless. She was hurting. She needed help. Even if she never gave in to his advances, he would not leave her like this.

  She cried for a while.

  He waited, both hands on her car door, leaning in, watching, hurting for her, praying she would open the door.

  Finally, she glanced at him and blinked. She rolled partially onto her back and stared at him forever. She swallowed—weighing her options?

  The standoff continued. He waited some more, not moving. Not giving in. He would never give in.

  She clenched the blanket with her fists and pursed her lips.

  He waited.

  She took several deep breaths, her body relaxing marginally. Streaks of tears dried on her face.

  He wanted to wipe them away. He wanted to hold her. He wanted to chase away whatever happened in her life to put her in this position. And he vowed to himself that he would fix this if it was the last thing he did. Even if she never let him touch her. Even if she entered the lifestyle right under his nose and found a Dom who was willing to beat her.

  No matter what, he was going to be her friend. Starting now. “I’m not going to leave without you, Brooke. Please, baby, open the door.”

  More time passed. More waiting.

  Finally, after an eternity, she reached for the lock and lifted it.

  Chapter 9

  Brooke was out of ideas.

  It didn’t seem Carter would ever leave.

  She had no idea he’d followed her. What an idiot. There was no way to hide her current problem. She could bluff, but he was too smart. Her car was filled with her belongings, and she was trying to sleep in a commuter lot. That spoke volumes.

  She’d never held a man’s gaze so long in her life. Not by half. Even through the window, he’d been there, waiting patiently, calmly. So kind. So thoughtful. So giving.

  When she gave in and popped the lock, he eased the door open slowly. Still, he didn’t touch her. He bent his knees, lowered to her level, and—holding on to the frame—met her eye-to-eye. “Come home with me.”

  She sucked in a breath. That was the last thing she expected. “I can’t do that.”

  “Why not?”

  “You’re… You’re…”

  He smiled. “I’m what?”

  “A man, for one.”

  He frowned. “So? I’m not an asshole. I’m just male.”

  She was unable to keep from widening her eyes. There’s a difference?

  He winced. “I have no idea what has happened to you to put this fear in you and make you so skittish, but I swear I’m a good guy. I just want to help.”

  “Help? Me?” She rolled her eyes. “What? By taking me home and turning me into some sort of sex slave or something? I’ll pass.” She turned to her side again, facing away from him. She tucked her hands between her thighs and wished she could take the last several words back.

  Carter gasped and then silence took over for several moments. Eventually, he spoke again. “Obviously some asshole has made you think all men are complete pieces of shit. Or perhaps a series of assholes have done that job. However, I need you to understand that we’re not all like that. I’m not like that. I won’t deny I’m attracted to you. It’s the reason I’m standing here in the middle of the night after following your sweet ass around the city in circles forever.

  “I’ve been attracted to you from the first moment I set eyes on you. Those damn red curls make my entire body take notice. And your porcelain skin is every man’s dream.”

  She didn’t move a muscle.

  He kept going. Rambling. “Maybe it’s the way you so demurely put me off. Maybe it’s the submissive nature I see in you. Maybe it’s the way you exude an innocence that tugs at my heart strings. Maybe it’s the way you tuck those unruly curls behind your ear when no one is watching. Maybe it’s the way you hide. And run. And need. And want. And cry. And hurt. And…” He stopped.

  She couldn’t catch her breath. What was happening here?

  He breathed heavily for a while. “Brooke, I don’t have the answers. I don’t even have the questions. I don’t know what I’m saying or suggesting or what I want. But I’m not leaving you here. So, you either have to move over and let me in or you have to come home with me.”

  Her face flushed so hot she thought it might catch fire. Go home with him?

  He waited. Again. Never moving. Was it a trick?

  “I’m not sleeping with you,” she blurted.

  He sighed. “I hope not. It would totally blow my image of you.”

  A smile crept across her lips, unbidden. She also couldn’t keep from glancing at him before she realized what a bad idea that was.

  He returned her smile. “Please. I won’t touch you unless you ask me to. Come home with me.”

  “Unless I ask you to?” she joked. Joked? What was happening to her? “You’ll be old and gray and lonely if you wait for that sort of invitation.”

  He laughed, his face lighting up. “If that’s the effect I have on women, then I have no business keeping my man card anyway.”

  “I’m a mess.”

  “Challenge accepted.”

  “I have no money. I lost my job. I lost my apartment. And whatever was left of my self-respect.”

  He flinched. “You lost your job?”

  She adjusted her seat and held his gaze, righting herself. “You didn’t know?”

  “No. What happened?”

  She shrugged. “When I got off work yesterday, the company fired me. Something about gradually cutting back.�
�

  His brows rose. “They did that to you? How long have you been with them?”

  “Four years.” She pursed her lips. Why was she sharing so much with him? He was so big. He filled the entire doorway with his frame. He could break her in two with one hand. And yet, for the first time in her life, she found herself trusting a man. A man.

  Perhaps she was misinformed. Maybe not all men were as vile as she’d been led to believe.

  Nothing in his stance or his words indicated he intended to mess with her. He went to a great deal of trouble to follow her and wait for her to come around. Who would do that if they had only bad intentions?

  “Four years? And they fired you? On the spot?”

  “Yes.”

  “How did you end up sleeping in your car tonight if you just got fired yesterday?”

  She lowered her gaze, fiddling with her fingers in her lap. “I was already behind on my rent. It was a bum day. I also got evicted.”

  “A bum day?” His voice rose. “A bum day?” he repeated.

  She flinched, lifting her gaze.

  His eyebrows were high on his head. “Baby, a bum day is when the internet won’t start up fast enough. A bum day is when the mail is late. A bum day is when my phone has no service in the car and won’t send my text fast enough. Losing your job and your apartment in the same day is…well, it fucking sucks. That ranks far higher than a bum day.”

  She swallowed, opened her mouth, and let words tumble out that should have been kept sacred. “You haven’t walked in my shoes. Losing my job and my apartment in the same day doesn’t even make the top ten worst.” Immediately she regretted her admission. She jerked away from him and faced the passenger window again. “I’d love it if you walked away and let me be.”

  “Well, that’s not going to happen. Yesterday might have been a bum day, and it makes my blood boil that it wasn’t the worst day of your life, but your bad luck is over. Can I trust you to follow me to my house? Or do I need to drag you out of this car and set your sweet ass in my truck?”

  Renewed tears fell. She tucked her lips in and kept her head down low, hating the braid that prevented her hair from hiding her face. She didn’t even lift a hand to wipe the tears this time. Let them fall.

  Again, this god of a man waited patiently. He didn’t touch her. Nor did he retreat. He stood stock still while she considered her options. When she thought she could speak again, she whispered, “If I leave my car, someone might break in and steal my things.”

  “Then you’ll follow me,” he decreed.

  She nodded. “Yeah.”

  “Don’t even think of trying to lose me, Brooke. I’d much rather go to bed eventually tonight than spend the entire night driving around Miami looking for you, but I won’t stop.”

  She lifted her gaze. “I’ll follow you.”

  He smiled. “Good girl.” Righting himself, he tapped her roof and then turned away.

  She watched his enormous frame as he sauntered toward a silver truck. His butt was fantastic. His shoulders were wide. Even his gait was sexy. Sexy?

  She jerked her gaze away from him. He’s a man. Stop staring. They’re all scum.

  It wasn’t hard to follow him. He drove cautiously and gave her plenty of time to keep up. He didn’t even take the highway. It took twenty minutes, but eventually he pulled into a nice neighborhood and turned several corners before he slowed. A garage door opened at the house on the left. There was a black sports car in the garage. He pulled behind it, rolled down his window, and pointed into the garage.

  He wanted her to park in his garage?

  She came to a stop next to his truck while he got out, rounded her hood, and leaned against her window. “Park in my garage. It’s a nice neighborhood, but it’s late. You don’t want to unload all this stuff tonight. And there’s no reason to take any chances. Your car will be safe inside my garage.”

  She swallowed the lump in her throat as she did his bidding. And then she opened the car door and stepped out. She hadn’t been this nervous in a long time.

  “Come on.” He angled his head toward the door as he shut the garage.

  She followed him, hands shaking.

  He was attracted to her. He’d said so. But he’d also given her no reason to think he intended to sleep with her in exchange for this kindness.

  When she entered his kitchen, she shut the door behind her with a soft snick while he reached for a panel to the side, disengaged the alarm, and then reset it. Finally, he faced her. “Relax. You’re safe here.”

  She leaned against the door. Safe? He had no idea what safe even meant.

  She realized she’d left everything in the car. She needed some of her things. “I need to get some stuff. Can I sleep on your couch or something? I’ll just stay this one night. Tomorrow I’ll figure something out.”

  He stalked toward her, making her heart race as he got closer. When he was a foot away, he set one hand on either side of her head and leaned in closer. He didn’t touch any part of her. “Brooke, I’m sure I have everything you’ll need tonight. And I have a guest room. You’ll sleep there. You’re not leaving here in the morning either. Where would you go?”

  She said nothing, trying not to breathe. He smelled so good. Whatever soap he used and…man.

  He held out a hand. “Give me your keys.”

  She glanced at his palm and shook her head. “No way.” She gripped them in her palm.

  “Brooke, give me your keys.”

  “I’m not a hostage.”

  He sighed, his head hanging low in front of her, the top of his messy blond hair catching the soft light coming from the lights above the stove. The only lights on in the house. He spoke to her feet next. “You’re not a hostage. You’re a flight risk. I don’t trust you. I want to help you. I’m going to help you. The only way I can ensure that is if you give me your keys.”

  She stuffed them in her pocket, defiant. She had no idea why she kept challenging him like this, but she couldn’t stop. Perhaps she was testing him, wondering where his breaking point was. How long would he go before he snapped and took a swing at her?

  Instead, he chuckled and stepped back, running a hand through his hair. A grin spread across his face when he faced her next. “Fine. I’ll give you two choices. Either you give me your keys and I let you sleep in my guest room, or you sleep in my bed with me so I can ensure you don’t try to run in the night.”

  She gasped. For a moment, she lost her certainty about him, and then she saw the twinkle in his eyes. He was not going to hurt her.

  He was also not going to sleep with her. She dug in her pocket, pulled out the keys, and handed them to him, dropping them in his palm without touching his skin. Self-preservation.

  He grinned again. “See? That wasn’t so bad. Come on. I’ll show you around.” He sauntered through the kitchen, not looking back.

  She took in her surroundings. The kitchen was pristine. White. White tile. White granite. White cabinets. Not the sort of kitchen a murderer would try to hide a crime.

  Shuddering at the thought, she followed him. Her choices were limited after all. The attached dining room was less colorless. He had a mahogany table and chairs that rested on a thick, dark-brown carpet. There was even a floral center piece in the middle.

  He continued through the family room, also inviting. A soft, brown leather sectional angled toward an entertainment center. The carpet was the same as the attached dining room. Thick. Inviting. Homey.

  She closed her eyes and forced herself not to look any longer at his environment. He might have her keys, but she was not staying here more than one night.

  A hallway opened up on the other side of the family room. Carter kept walking. He flipped on a light, illuminating their path, pointing right and then left. “Office. Guest bath.” Right again. “Guest room.” Left again. “Master bedroom.” When he reached the end, he stopped and turned around.

  She paused, unsure what to do next.

  “Everything you need is
in the guest bath. My sister lives in Minneapolis, but she visits me at least twice a year, and she thinks my bachelor pad is uninviting, so she makes it…girlier when she comes.” He smiled.

  That explains the silk flowers on the dining room table.

  “She says every home should have guest provisions, just in case. Open every cabinet and drawer. You’ll find what you need.”

  Brooke nodded. “Thank you.” She stared at the floor.

  Carter snapped his fingers as if just remembering something important, turned to the right, and headed into his room. The lights went on and he returned a few seconds later holding a T-shirt. “Here. Something to sleep in.”

  She took it from him, murmuring, “Thank you.”

  He cocked his head to one side. “Is your back okay? From the whip, I mean?”

  Mortification flooded her. If he thought she was going to show him her back or her thighs, he was crazy. “It’s fine.” It felt warm, but it didn’t sting at all anymore.

  He nodded. “Good. I know Faith is an expert. She knows exactly how hard to strike for the results she intends, but it’s harder to be sure when the submissive is clothed.”

  “It’s fine,” she repeated.

  “Okay.” He hesitated. “You won’t take off in the night on foot, will you?”

  She shook her head, staring at the white T-shirt instead of him. “No.”

  “Then, I’ll let you sleep. If you need anything, yell or just come get me.”

  She nodded.

  “Brooke…” He sighed. “I have no idea what you’ve been through, but I sense it hasn’t been pretty. I’m not your enemy. I’m not an asshole. I’m a nice guy. Give me a chance. I won’t let you down. It would seem too many people have let you down in your short life. I will not be one of them.”

  She nodded. Tears started to fall again as she considered the fact that it was possible he was not lying. She turned abruptly before he had to watch her cry again and entered the guest bath, shutting the door behind her. She pursed her lips to keep from sobbing out loud and turned on the faucet.

  She’d never been in a bathroom this nice. Not one equipped with a spare toothbrush and toothpaste. Not a bathroom she had not cleaned herself. Not a bathroom with brown swirled granite counters. Not a bathroom that undoubtedly had unlimited hot water, a toilet that flushed without jiggling the handle, and a faucet that shut off completely.