Break Me Down. Roni Loren
Sam strolled in. Sam. Just the sight of her gave him a swift kick in the gut. She’d changed out of her work clothes into snug black pants and a corset, torturing Gibson with curves and smooth flesh and brash confidence. Good God, she was something to behold. But as she moved farther into the room and he got a better look at her face, his appreciation of the view switched into something else entirely.
The Sam he’d left in the bar was not the woman here now. Her eyes were puffy and devoid of the smoky makeup she’d been wearing earlier, and one side of her face looked red and swollen. She’d been hurt. He jumped to his feet so quickly, his chair nearly tipped backward. “What the hell?”
Grant stood as well, probably noticing the same things he had.
Their sudden movements must’ve caught her eye because she turned Gibson’s way. Her eyes widened for a moment, and then she spun on her heel and headed in the other direction. But he was only a few strides away and picked up speed.
He caught up to her and put his hand on her shoulder. “Sam, wait.”
She tensed beneath his fingers. “You’re not supposed to touch anyone without permission here. Let me go.”
He didn’t give a shit about the rules right now. He stepped around her, blocking her path. Up close, the damage was even worse. Her cheek was definitely swollen, her lip puffy, and she’d been crying. His spunky, upbeat Sam, crying. Something primal and protective surged in him.
“Baby.” He reached for her cheek. “What the hell happened?”
She ducked away from his touch, her jaw twitching. “Nothing. I’m fine.”
He dropped his arm to his side but didn’t move away. “Bullshit. Talk to me.”
Grant stopped a few steps back, listening but not interrupting.
“I’m fine,” she repeated, her fists clenching at her sides.
“You’re hurt.”
“It’s nothing.”
“Sam,” he said, warning in his tone.
She looked away, her stance steely. “Fine. The guys who gave me trouble at the bar tonight were waiting for me when I walked to my car, all right? Shitty end to the night.”
Gibson’s stomach plummeted, and anger ripped through him like a wildfire. “They did this to you?” He closed the space between them, searching her face, wanting to run his hands all over her to make sure everything was intact but knowing he needed to tread carefully. “God, baby, did they—”
“Angie chased them off before they could do any worse than this. I have a few bruises and a ripped shirt. I’ll survive.”
Gibson let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, but rage still beat through him hard and ugly. Those fucking inbreds had hurt Sam, had scared her, would’ve done worse if someone hadn’t been there to interrupt. “I’m going to kill those fuckers.”
“They won’t get caught. And even if they did, the charges would be minor.” She shook her head, a haunted look flashing through her eyes before she covered it. “Look, I’m okay. I got lucky. I just want to forget about it.”
He understood that desire, but he wasn’t buying that she was fine. Her pulse was jumping against her throat and her gaze was darting around the room like she expected someone to jump out. The woman was spooked. He put his hands on her shoulders, feeling the slight trembling in her body. He wanted to pull her to him, tell her she was safe with him, that he’d never let anyone hurt her again. But she’d only shove him away. The Do Not Enter signs were screaming from every corner of her expression. “Tell me what I can do. Why don’t we go to my cabin? I’ll get you a drink and we can talk. Or I can drive you home so that you can get some rest.”
She tipped up her chin, eyes flashing with defiance. “I don’t need a drink or to talk or to sleep. That’s not why I came all the way out here, and you know it. I need a sub.”
He frowned. “Baby, you can’t just—”
“Don’t tell me what I can’t do, Gib. I’ve had a bad night, and I know what I need. I need a submissive.” Her tone was flinty, her gaze drilling into him. “Preferably one without a lot of limits.” She leaned into his space. “You volunteering?”
People were starting to turn their way, watching the exchange—the petite domme and the guy everyone knew as a dominant. Eyebrows were lifting. His neck heated. His body was responding to her hard tone, the challenge in her eye, but he tamped the instinct down. “Sam, you know I don’t—”
The door slammed shut, her expression shuttering.
“Fine.” She pushed her shoulders back and then stepped around him. “Be a fucking coward, Gib. I was coming here to find Julian anyway.”
The name of the sub sent jealousy burning through him, and he spun around to try to stop her. But Grant stepped in her path instead. He lifted a hand, halting her without touching her. “Easy, there, mistress.”
Sam couldn’t do anything but stop with the wall of cowboy in front of her. Plus, domme or not, no one challenged Grant. But she held her spine straight and met the man’s gaze. “Please, Grant, I don’t want to talk about it. I’m okay. Let me pass and find Julian.”
Grant frowned down at her, concern filling his face as he evaluated her. “No can do, darlin’. I don’t know exactly what you’ve been through tonight, but I can see that you’re not in a safe state of mind to play with anyone tonight. I won’t allow it. You’re upset and angry. Two things that can cloud your judgment and put your partner at risk.”
Gibson moved closer, and he saw tears well in Sam’s eyes before she blinked them away. “I’m not going to cross any lines. Please, Grant. I need this tonight. I can’t tell you how badly.”
It took everything Gib had not to go to her, take her in his arms. Seeing her so vulnerable and shaken made his chest hurt. And he wanted to strangle the men who’d done this to her.
Grant put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. “I get it, mistress. But I can’t allow it. Not tonight at least. Why don’t you stay in a cabin, get some rest, and we can chat in the morning? Or go with Gibson and have that drink and talk.”
She shook her head, frustration marking her features as she backed away from Grant’s touch. “No. I’m not here to talk. I’ll just go. This was a mistake.”
“Sam …” Gibson said. But she was already striding for the door. He lunged for her, but Grant put a hand on his arm, halting him. He shrugged out of Grant’s grip. “I need to go after her, man.”
Grant watched Sam’s retreating form, worry lines around his mouth. “She’s not going to let you help. She’s like an injured horse right now, trusting no one and ready to kick anyone who comes close.”
“That doesn’t mean she doesn’t need help.”
“No. But if you figure out how to convince her to let you in tonight, be careful. She wants to hurt someone, and she’s not thinking straight enough to do it the right way or for the right reasons. She needs a friend tonight, not a sub.”
“I’m not trying to be her sub. I’m just trying to be there for her.”
Grant eyed him. “Sometimes the line between those two can get pretty blurred.”
“I’ll figure it out.” He didn’t want to waste another second and jogged after Sam. She’d just slipped into the hallway when he caught up. “Sam, wait, please.”
She spun around, unshed tears and anger glittering in her eyes. “No, you back off, too. I don’t need to be babied or coddled. And I know that’s all you guys want to do. Pat me on the hand and tell me it’s going to be okay. Well, fuck that. If you want to help me, just leave me the hell alone.”
She turned