Break Me Down. Roni Loren

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Break Me Down - Roni  Loren

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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 and pushed through the door that led to the main lobby. He strode after her, the door swinging shut behind him. “I’m not letting you drive home like this. You’re upset. It’s not safe for you to be on the road.”

      “Not letting me? Right.” She waved at one of the security guards by the door. “Jack, I’m leaving. I don’t want this man to follow me. I’m calling my safe word.”

      Jack stepped forward, his mouth flattening into a sober line. “Of course, mistress.”

      Gibson groaned. “Jack, she’s upset and shouldn’t be driving like that. We’re not in a scene. She’s a friend and I’m trying to help her.”

      The big guy shrugged. “Sorry, man. Rules are rules. You’re going to need to stay inside until I see her to her car.”

      Gibson threw his hands out to his sides. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. Sam, don’t do this. Let me help.”

      She turned and peered at him over her shoulder, resignation in her eyes. “I gave you a chance to do that. But you said it yourself. You can’t. There’s nothing left to say. I’ve got to go, Gib.”

      She walked out the door with the security guard, leaving Gibson with two other staff members who would uphold the rules just as strictly. And if he was in any doubt, they both sent him don’t-try-me looks to punctuate it. He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, steaming. Fine. She could leave. But he knew where she lived and he’d be damned if he was going to let her be alone tonight.

      He’d give her a few minutes’ head start and then he would follow her.

      But fifteen minutes later, when the guards allowed him to leave the Ranch, he never caught up with her car. She’d either driven like a bat out of hell or taken an alternate route. No matter. He knew his destination. But when he reached her apartment, her car was nowhere in the parking lot, he got no answer when he knocked on her door, and her phone went straight to voice mail.

      The seed of anxiety that had nestled in his gut when he couldn’t find her car on the road bloomed into full-fledged worry. He hit a different button on his phone and called his brother. It was the middle of the night, but maybe Sam had gone to Kade and Tessa’s house. She probably had a key, and Tessa was her best friend. Who better to go to if she needed a shoulder to lean on?

      His brother answered on the third ring, groggy-voiced. “Gib? What’s wrong?”

      “Is Sam at your place?”

      “Sam?” Kade asked like he was trying to make sense of the word. Sheets shifted. “No. Why would she be here?”

      “Are you sure? Could she have come in while y’all were sleeping?”

      “No. She doesn’t have an alarm code and she knows we’re getting on a plane this morning. Why? What’s wrong? Did something happen? Don’t tell me you messed around with her and pissed her off again.”

      “No, it’s not like that. Shit.” Gibson ran

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