Roni Loren - Break Me Down

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.”

She watched him go, the honed muscles in his back shifting beneath his shirt, that bitable ass fitting his jeans just right. God, he was so fucking beautiful it almost hurt.

See you on the other side.

Yeah.

She just wished it was on the other side of her flogger.

With that delicious image lingering in her mind, she fell into a deep sleep, the nightmares kept at bay by one big Texan with a dimpled smile and a stubborn attitude.

Gibson’s body was too long for the couch, so he’d only managed a couple of hours of sleep, but he didn’t care. He was here. Sam was safely tucked away upstairs. He’d deal with any discomfort involved as long as he could guarantee that.

When he’d driven along the winding, overgrown road that led to the place, he’d never been so worried in his life. This place was at least two miles from anything but fields and cows. Beyond some psycho finding Sam out here alone, what would happen if she hurt herself? Remodeling a house alone was never a good idea. Too many things could go wrong. But out here where cell phones didn’t work? That was crazy. He hadn’t been lying when he’d told her that he would call out his guy friends on something like that, too.