Break Me Down

His palms on her shoulders were almost too much. She’d die if he could feel her trembling. But the touch was somehow grounding, too—settling. And she hated to admit he was right. She’d never let Tessa do this. She could come up with ten arguments for why it was a dumb idea. But she couldn’t leave. If she left, her attackers won. They would successfully steal her vacation, change her plans, alter her life. She met Gibson’s gaze, needing him to understand, needing him to hear her. She put her hands over his. “I can’t go, Gib. I won’t. I get what you’re saying, but … I need this. Maybe more than anything. I need to be here.”

She hated the pleading tone in her voice, had never wanted Gibson to see this side of her. Even if he hadn’t wanted to go down that road with her, in her mind, she was still the domme and he the sub. She was supposed to be strong in front of him. Instead, she felt like she could crumple at any minute. Everything raw and exposed. Sleep deprivation and the adrenaline crash unraveling the strings holding her up.

Gibson’s eyes searched hers, the lines around his mouth deepening. “You’re not going to change your mind on this, are you?”

She shook her head. “I can’t.”

He let out a long sigh and lowered his hands to his sides. “Okay, then.”

“Really?” All the air sagged out of her. Thank God. Thank. God. He was going to leave her be. She could wallow in peace. Put herself back together on her own before having to face the world again. “Thank you.”

“Right.” Gibson gave a stiff nod, turned on his heel, and headed to the door.

Sam blinked, surprised at how quickly he was leaving. She’d expected a safety lecture first or something, but he opened the door and stepped outside. When the door clicked shut, unexpected loss swept through her, like the candle inside her had snuffed out. She stood there for a few long seconds, staring at the shut door, but then she quickly snapped out of the weird reaction and strode toward it. She should at least tell him good-bye.

But when she opened the door, instead of seeing Gibson’s back, a large, bounding dog was headed straight for her. She only had time to put her hands up in front of her before Sasha, Gibson’s golden lab, was tackling her with happy barks and sloppy licks. Sam skidded back on her heels, barely avoiding sprawling right onto her ass.

“Sash!” Gibson called from the dirt driveway. “Down!”

Sasha got off of Sam and went back to all fours but did a happy, spinning dance, slapping Sam’s legs with her tail.

Gib jogged up and grabbed Sasha’s collar, guiding her into a sit. “Sorry. Being cooped up in the car that long makes her … well, insane.”

Sam was still stunned by the appearance of the dog when she noticed the black duffel bag slung over Gibson’s shoulder. Her gaze zeroed in on it. “What is that? And why is your dog with you?”

Gibson shrugged and then gave one of those pirate grins, all dimples and scruff and bad boy next door. “I had a feeling you weren’t going to come with me. So I made sure I had a plan B.”

Her stomach dropped. “Plan B?”

“Yep. Good to always have one in business and in life.” He stepped past her, back into the house, taking Sasha with him. “Congratulations, you have your first houseguest. Two if you count Sash.”

Every one of Sam’s feathers fluffed up. “Oh, the hell I do. Guest would imply that you were invited, which you’re not. There’s only one functioning bedroom in this place.”

Something flickered in his eyes at that, but it quickly disappeared. “I have a sleeping bag in the trunk. I can take a couch or the floor. And Sasha will behave. She can hang out in the backyard if need be. It’s this or you come home. Not negotiable, sunshine.”

“I’m not going …” She barely resisted the impulse to stomp her foot. Instead, she smacked him on the arm—hard. Then when that felt good, she did it again. Then she pushed him. “Goddammit, Gib. You can’t—”

All the rage from the night before was bubbling up and out. He was backing her into a corner and she didn’t fucking like it. She was spent and exhausted and emotionally wrung out and she wanted to hit things. Hit him. She pushed again, and he rocked back a step, staying silent and stoic, even with Sasha barking at the ruckus.

“What is wrong with you? You can’t do this.” Angry words spilled out of her with every shove. Words that didn’t make sense. Words that weren’t even directed at him. But he said nothing. Soon he was up against the wall and she was pummeling the sides of her fists against his chest like some crazed thing.

He didn’t resist, just let her push and hit. Absorbed her violence. She couldn’t look at him, couldn’t stop. She saw blurred colors and realized she was crying again. Sobbing and yelling. Jesus.

“Fuck. Fuck!” Her voice raked over her raw throat.

“Baby,” he said, almost too softly to hear above her own tirade and Sasha’s confused barking. “It’s okay. Just let that shit out. Whatever you need to do.”

She shook her head. She couldn’t. She just couldn’t deal with this right now. With him. She gave another halfhearted push. But when she finally ran out of steam, almost collapsing into his chest from the exhaustion, she looked up at him.

And that did her in. The expression on his face was so heartbreakingly tender she couldn’t bear it. He’d let her beat him to a pulp if she wanted. She knew it. Saw it there. Her head spun. Crazy woman, meet immovable force. She closed her eyes, the floor feeling as if it were tilting beneath her feet. Was she still crying? Yeah, she was. She couldn’t even feel it anymore. Her chest heaved with broken breaths.

Gibson’s arms were around her before she could topple over. “Shh, it’s okay. I’ve got you. Just take a slow breath. It’s all right. You’re tired. Your body’s giving out on you.”

“I’m fine,” she whispered.

But either he didn’t hear or he ignored it because in the next second, he was lifting her in his arms. She gave one feeble smack against his chest. No. Put me down. But the words didn’t come out. Maybe she didn’t want them to.

“Where’s your room?”

She couldn’t fight anymore. Not right now. Her head sagged against his shoulder. “Upstairs.”

Gibson didn’t say another word. He carried her up the stairs like she weighed nothing and started opening doors. When she heard the skittering of dog nails on hardwood and a bark, she knew Gib had found the right room.

“Hey, there, pretty boy,” Gibson said to Darcy. “Let me get your momma inside, all right?”

Sasha whined from downstairs, and that was the end of that. Darcy scampered from the room in search of a friend to play with. His ears failed him sometimes in sleep, but his nose was deadly accurate.

Gibson strode across the room and laid Sam on the bed. He settled her against her pillows and pulled her grandmother’s handmade quilt over her, the baked-in smell of home enveloping her. She opened her eyes, painfully embarrassed that he was seeing her like this but too wiped to fight back anymore. “I’m going to get the sheets all gross.”

He pushed her hair away from her tear-streaked face. “So I’ll wash them when you wake up. If you don’t get some rest, you’re going to pass out on your feet.”

“I haven’t agreed to let you stay.”

A little smile tugged at the corners of those built-for-sin lips. “That’s ’cause I didn’t ask. We’ll talk after you wake up.”

She closed her eyes, her lids feeling too heavy to hold up. “You haven’t slept either.”

“I’ll take the dogs out and then I’ll crash.”

Part of her wanted to peel back the covers and let him slide in next to her. He smelled good, and having that big solid body next to her felt like the best kind of medicine. But she knew that was the crazy sleep deprivation talking. “The couch in the living room is pretty comfortable. There’s an extra quilt in the closet.”

“Thanks.”

She yawned. “I’m sorry I hit you.”

Warm lips pressed to her forehead, sending a shiver right through her. “I’m not.”

She opened her eyes at that to find him wearing a resigned smile.

“I’ve taken far worse from you, mistress. If it makes you feel better, I can handle it.”

Despite her utter exhaustion, the words sent a curling warmth down her spine. “I wouldn’t be so cocky. You haven’t seen the worst of me yet.”

He lifted her hand to his mouth and brushed his lips over her knuckles. “You’re right. I haven’t been that lucky.”

The longing look he gave her nearly zapped her out of her state.

But before she could respond, he released her hand and stood. “See you on the other side, sunshine.”