Cherise Sinclair - Edge of the Enforcer

All the same, HurtMe’s assertions didn’t matter. Not really.

Breaking up with Zander was simply the right thing to do. They were getting too involved, and if Parnell or Ricks found her, there was a chance Zander might get hurt.

So…she was a danger to him, and she didn’t satisfy his needs. Couldn’t get much more straightforward than that, right? She stared down at her hands, watching her knuckles blur as grief welled up and filled her eyes with tears.

I can do this. I have to do this.

Nonetheless, when Zander walked in a few minutes later, she still wasn’t prepared.

“Ready to go, Lindsey?” he asked.

“Um… Hey.” She attempted to smile at him.

Eyes narrowed, he leaned over the counter. His fingers—so familiar a touch—curved to cup her chin. “You’ve been crying. Why?”

The authoritative demand of a Dom sent a shiver up her spine. She swallowed. Do it now. Here. If she left with him and tried to argue—face it, he could make her change her mind in a heartbeat. “Because I’m sad.”

The words kept sticking in her throat. Get it out now. “Because I’m not going to see you again.”

His fingers tightened on her face. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

DESPITE FEELING SCRAPED raw all day, deVries had looked forward to seeing his little Texan. Her sense of humor, her caring, her warmth—being around her was like stepping into springtime. But what was this shit? He let go of her. As short-tempered as he was today, he needed to be careful. Patient.

Her face was pale, eyes haunted and wet with tears. She really was upset.

Gentling his voice, he rested his hands palm-down on the desk. “Okay, babe. Tell me what’s going on.”

“There are reasons why we’re…breaking up.” Actual grief shadowed her face. “Several, actually. Only there’s one difficulty we can’t get past. It’s impossible.”

“Go on.” Impossible rarely was.

“You’re a s-sadist,” she whispered.

“You knew that when we met. I’d never go beyond what you wanted. Not if you’re honest with me.” Unlike the way she’d been last night. One more thing they’d talk about.

“Yesterday, you stopped long before you were ready to. B-before you were satisfied.” Her raised chin defied him to deny her statement. Her quivering lower lip tugged at his heart.

Hell…this he hadn’t been prepared for. Perceptive, wasn’t she? And…hurting. She must feel as if she’d failed him. He softened his voice. “Satisfaction isn’t everything.”

“It is to me—when it comes to you. I’m not comfortable if you’re suffering. If you need something I can’t provide.” She reached out to touch him. Drew back.

Fucking submissive who wanted to give him…everything. Dammit, this wasn’t her choice to make. “We’re good. I’m good.”

“You’re not. I can see it.”

He growled. Wasn’t as if he couldn’t function without handing out heavy pain. S/M was a craving, not an addiction. Wasn’t like going hungry… More like giving up pizza or steak. Sucked to cut back, but other things were more important. “I fucking care for you.” The words sounded ugly. Harsh. Not how he’d figured on telling her.

The tears in her eyes overflowed. “And I care for you.”

He saw her lips firm. His gut registered the loss even before she whispered, “I won’t let you live handicapped because of me. I can’t. We’re done, Zander. Please… If you care, honor that.”

What the fuck? He straightened, staring at her. Just like that? It was fun. We’re done?

If she’d really cared, she’d stick. She wouldn’t walk away for such a fucked-up reason. Anger flared, burning apart his shaky control. “Might have known. A relationship takes work. Aren’t many women willing to put out the effort.”

“Zander…”

“It’s deVries .” He leaned forward into her face, gritting out the words. “You got your honor, Tex. Hope it helps you sleep good in your empty bed.”

The ashes inside him settled over everything, turning his world gray.

“I’m so—”

He moved toward the exit and stopped at the sight of fucking-richer-than-God Ethan Worthington. Had she arranged to meet the other Dom there?

Even as he told himself he was being an ass, deVries glanced over his shoulder at Lindsey. Hand over her mouth, tears rolling down her cheeks. Right . His wife had done silent crying; hadn’t meant shit. Tamara had dumped him for a rich man who’d keep her in style without any effort on her part.

He glanced at Worthington, then Lindsey. “Looks like you won’t have an empty bed for long.”

He took little pleasure in slamming the door behind him.

On the street, the cold air slapped him in the face. Brought him up short, playing over his asshole words. Fuck. He suppressed the need to head back in and apologize. Fix things. Lindsey wasn’t Tamara—she wouldn’t play him that way.

She’d just dump him and cry. Would give up without even a fight. “We’re done.”

Not fair. Not right.

Now what? He stopped, feeling the frustration growing inside him, needing an outlet more than before.

He couldn’t do a scene. His control was shot.

A bar fight, though… He studied the rowdy tavern down the street. Full of city boys. No challenge there. But he could visit some of the places by the docks.

He glanced back at Dark Haven—a haven no longer. Big brown eyes, trembling mouth, sweet words. She’d gutted him worse than a KA-BAR.

Yeah, he’d make the rounds of the dock bars. See if he couldn’t get his outsides battered up enough to disguise the pain inside.

***

The slamming of Dark Haven’s door shattered Lindsey’s control. He wasn’t supposed to be mad at her. He should have been relieved.

“I can’t say I’ve seen deVries upset before,” Sir Ethan said. He walked around the desk and leaned his hip on the edge. Even with her vision blurry, she saw the concern in his clear blue eyes. He handed her a tissue from the box beside the computer. “What happened?”

Tears flooded her eyes faster than she could wipe them away. “H-he… I-I…” She made herself stop. Zander—DeVries—wouldn’t want to be talked about.

Why should she care? He’d been cruel…but only because she’d upset him. God, she’d really hurt him. Her lip trembled. He’d cared for her…more than she’d realized.

I changed my mind—come back.

No. She couldn’t waver. This was for the best. It was. She pulled in a shuddering breath, wanting to hit her hands on the desk, to throw things, to scream to heaven. Why—why is life so unfair? Sobs boiled up inside her, impossible to subdue.

When Sir Ethan put his arm around her, she buried her face against his chest and cried.

With a low rumble of approval, he wrapped her closer, holding her firmly. As he rubbed her shoulder, he murmured soft words she couldn’t hear. Zander had done the same before, his hands rougher, his voice harsher, and God, she wanted him.

Can’t have him.

After a minute, Lindsey regained control and struggled to pull away.

Sir Ethan’s arms tightened for a moment before he let her go.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

His aristocratic expression was gentle as he used a tissue to clean her face. “You are very welcome, sweetheart. You can have my shoulder anytime. Or anything else you need.”

The warmth in his gaze said he meant the invitation exactly as it sounded.

The Dom was a walking, talking definition of gorgeous. Skilled, powerful, caring. She should want him.

And yet, her heart was set on Zander. Why had she ever wanted to be in love? It hurt—hurt far more than any whip a sadist could wield.