Secrets & Lies: A Domestic Discipline Novella Page 3

  The thought weakened her, took the stuffing from her legs and made her wish she could take a seat. Would she never be able to move past what had happened last Christmas?

  “Please leave me alone,” she whispered. “I just want to be left alone.” The words were heartfelt and weary. But that was because he was dangerous. She knew that, because even after his betrayal, he had power over her, and she couldn't handle that. Couldn't cope with what it meant.

  “I can’t leave you alone,” he told her on a sigh, his eyes shadowing with an emotion she refused to believe was pain. “I can’t. How can I? You know what we had together. You felt it too. There was no way you couldn’t.”

  She shook her head. “What I felt was a lie. What I felt was for the person I thought was Terry, not a stranger.”

  “I’m not a stranger.”

  “No, you’re worse. You’re his brother. His...” She swallowed down her revulsion. “How could he? Why would he? And why would you?” The questions tumbled from her, but she raised her hands and physically shoved them away. “Don’t answer. I don’t need to know; I just need to forget.”

  Meg started to stride off, but he grabbed hold of her arm. Before she could pull free or shove her bag into his face to ward him off, he’d tugged her against him. The instant their bodies brushed, she had to stifle a whimper at how right the proximity felt.

  He took advantage of her shock and grabbed a hold of her chin. Forcing her to look up at him, he whispered, “You can’t forget. I can’t forget. And this is why.”

  When his lips touched hers, the whimper escaped. As he’d always done, he swallowed it, and took all the noises her mouth made, ones it made for him and him alone.

  The pressure of his lips against hers was perfect, the sensation of those silken morsels against hers was a dream, and the faint scratch of his stubble touching her cheeks and chin was like heaven.

  It felt so good.

  Too good.

  The notion made her freeze and she started to pull away, but before she could, his tongue swept into her mouth, and she was a goner again.

  Meg could have bitten it off, could have screamed blue murder, but she was helpless.

  This man had trained her to crave his kiss, to beg for it. The times when Terry had kissed her and this spark hadn’t been there, had driven her half mad with confusion. Why had she felt this on those Friday nights, but not at any other point of the week? Why had he made her feel so much when he became her Dom but not as a boyfriend? A lover?

  She’d thought herself a deviant. Someone who could only feel this if she was tied up or being tortured to orgasm.

  In a way, it made sense that this flare shot up between her and another man, but she didn’t have to like it. In fact, she detested that something this beautiful was wasted on someone capable of such treachery.

  It was that thought that pulled her away, and he let her go. Surprisingly.

  There was a forlorn sorrow to his gaze when she wiped her lips, smearing the moisture of their kiss away on the back of her hand.

  “Let me explain,” he whispered, the plea in his voice catching her unaware.

  “No. Nothing can explain away what you did to me.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “I do,” she hissed. “The stunt you and your brother pulled was despicable.”

  “I know,” he told her, raising his hands in surrender. “I know, and I want to make amends.”

  “And how can you do that?”

  “By letting you have control over me. By giving you what I took away from you.”

  Chapter Three

  Meg stared at him a second, then shook her head. “Are you insane?”

  “Maybe. I don’t know. Guilt does things to a man, Meg, and you’re not letting me explain my side of things. What else can I do? What else am I left if not the grand gesture?”

  Her jaw worked a second before she slashed her hand through the air. “I don’t have time for your games, Gabe. I don’t have time to waste on stupid things you consider funny...”

  “What the hell are you talking about? I’m being deadly serious,” he spat, interrupting her.

  The rage on his face, triggered by her assumption, made her take another step back. Straight into the front window of her store. It was stupid, because he’d never hurt her, not physically at any rate. Hell, he couldn’t hurt her any more emotionally if he tried!

  “You know that’s not my kink,” she retorted, holding her purse close to her chest. “Why would I want to dominate you?”

  “To get back at me.”

  “How old am I, Gabe? Six?”

  He closed his eyes, apparently seeking patience from a saint somewhere. “What do you want from me, Meg? How can I make this right?”

  “Why the hell do you want to make it right?”

  He glowered at her. “Do you want another demonstration? Because I’m more than willing to put on one hell of a show for your clients.” He pointedly eyed her store, and she twisted around, a harried gasp escaping her at the three witnesses to her very public shame.

  Rather than reply, she stalked off, her cheeks bright red and glowing as she headed for her car. When he followed her, she halted and spat, “Don’t you take another step. Get away from me, Gabe. Please!” The last was a plea.

  “No. I can’t, Meg. I’ve tried. Goddammit, how I’ve tried. This isn’t going to go away, I’m not going away.”

  “Then I’ll call the police.”

  “Do.” He sniffed. “My cousin Joe will get a kick out of hearing how you’re trying to accuse me of stalking when all I want is a goddamn chance to apologize. Properly.”

  Meg folded her arms across her chest. Irritated because she knew his cousin would laugh because most women in town stalked Gabe. Not the other way around. She narrowed her eyes at him in disgust. “You’ve got a huge head, you know that?”

  He jerked a shoulder. “I don’t actually. But it’s what Joe thinks. I’m the one to be stalked in this county according to him.”

  “That’s because he’s jealous,” she retorted with a sniff of her own. “If he laid off the donuts and went to the gym, I’m sure he’d be as handsome as you.”

  “Oh, so you think I’m handsome, do you?” he murmured quickly, his eyes lighting up with a teasing glint.

  “Go. Away!”

  “No, I won’t,” he told her, mimicking her stubborn stance, and glaring right back at her.

  Sighing, Meg relented a second, released her clutch on her purse and started digging around for her keys. “I’m going to meet my friend Sam. I have a pre-arrangement with him,” she lied.

  “Then un-arrange it. We need to talk about this, Meg.”

  The earnestness in his tone ate at her more than anything else could. Terry had wheedled and whined. Told her he needed things she couldn’t give him so he’d gone elsewhere, and he’d done the decent thing by giving her to someone who could handle her own needs, someone who was safe.

  He’d buried himself in his own bullshit, and she’d watched, wondering how she’d imagined herself in love with such a moron. Her idiocy and the sheer lack of respect in his behavior were the two things she was finding hard to deal with.

  If she couldn’t have faith in herself, trust and believe in her own judgment, then what did she have..?

  Nothing.

  Which was why, six months on, she was still finding it hard to get back on her feet.

  It was that, that made her look up at him and say, “I’m meeting Sam. He doesn’t deserve to be stood up. But, I’ll be home tonight. If you want to be there, I’ll listen to anything you have to say.

  “This is a one-time deal, Gabe. After tonight, when I tell you to go, to leave me alone, I want you to do exactly as I say. Do you understand me?”

  The stunned elation on his face wrenched at her heart. How could he seem to care and have done what he’d done to her? The dichotomy of it all messed with her head. The mindfuck was an endless torment, but rather than broach that minefi
eld, she remained silent, waiting for his answer.

  He nodded and murmured, “You won’t regret it, Meg.”

  She just whispered, “I already do.”

  Chapter Four

  Nerves filled Gabe’s belly like a bag full of recently awakened bats. He was close to puking; that was how badly his nervousness was getting to him.

  Terry. It always came back to his older brother.

  The one constant in Gabe’s life, the one bastard who could and would wreck it all.

  Seated behind the wheel of his truck, Gabe rested his elbows on the cool leather and tried not to picture Meg that first night he’d seen her. But it was impossible.

  The image of her was imprinted on his brain, and it had been from the beginning. He wasn’t the sort to believe in soul mates. He wasn’t the sort at all, and yet, when he’d seen her, he’d known.

  The instant Terry had seen his interest, what had big brother gone and done? Tried, and succeeded, in stealing her from him.

  He closed his eyes and tried to quell the bitterness that suffocated him whenever he thought back to the wasted years; years in which he and Meg could have been happy, made a family together, a home for themselves... All that potential had been shoved down the toilet thanks to Terry.

  Gabe closed his eyes as bitter anger filled him, making his stomach burn and his jaw ache from gritting his teeth. He'd been sitting outside Meg’s house for the last two hours. Ever since he’d grabbed something to eat at the local diner and taken off to wait for her at her place. The burger he'd eaten settled heavily on his gut thanks to thoughts of Terry.

  The bastard.

  He'd promised his Ma not to come to blows with the bastard again, and only that promise had held him back this past couple of months after his attempts at reconciliation with Meg were constantly rejected.

  Tonight was a breakthrough he hadn't expected, but he wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. Not knowing when she’d return was one of the reasons for his sitting here all evening. He didn’t want to miss out on the chance to explain himself to her, to finally get the chance to make things right.

  If it meant sitting here all fucking year, he'd do it. She was more than worth it.

  That she’d caved in at all came as the largest shock, and it was caving in. He’d worn her down—at least, it had felt that way from his side of the fence.

  Christ, she was probably right. He had been stalking her, except he hadn’t been following her or creepily taking photos. He’d just made sure that she’d felt his presence in her life. Which he guessed could come across as creepy as fuck, but he just... Hell, he hadn’t wanted her to forget him.

  That made him sigh with regret.

  Like it was possible to forget what he and Terry had done to her.

  He’d done himself a disservice, totally disrespected Meg, as well as shamed a lifestyle he’d come to cherish. By abusing his position as a Dom, by hiding his true identity and withholding it from Meg, meaning she was kept in the dark about pertinent information relating to the man she was trusting her very self with... Christ, he should be strung up.

  Knowing that didn’t make it any better though.

  The idea that she should punish him had come to him in a moment of desperation, and was born from a need to atone. Figuring an eye for an eye might make her listen, he hadn’t been altogether surprised when she’d turned him down. He deserved for her to beat him, to turn the tables and to twist it around so that she could punish him.

  Even though he wasn’t submissive like Terry, he’d have enjoyed the pain of her castigating him. It would have made him feel better. Less selfish. More on an equal footing with her.

  Although, he knew that wasn’t possible.

  The lies and machinations he and his brother had taken part in spanned years. A bond of trust had formed between him and Meg, something that came from months of lessons, of training. He had made her perfect for him, for his needs. That came with a connection too rare in his world.

  It was why losing her hurt so badly.

  To lose the woman was agonizing, to lose his sub was devastating. The double whammy meant the last six months had been hell. A deserved hell, but painful nonetheless.

  Sighing at the thought, he was about to tilt his head back and try to sleep a little when headlights blared in the distance. Meg lived far enough away from the suburbs for those lights to be few and far between. Thinking it was her, he sat up and waited. When she pulled up outside the house in her imported sedan, he climbed out.

  Meg turned when his door banged shut, and she squinted at him through the darkness. “You’re here,” she told him, voice bland.

  “Yes. I want to make this right.”

  She made a snuffling sound. Halfway between laughter and a snort. “Yeah, yeah. Like that’s even possible. Sam says I should lynch you. String you up by your balls.”

  “I’m getting desperate, Meg. That doesn’t sound too disastrous a fate.”

  At his words, she shook her head. “I don’t understand you. You took part in the deception, willingly. I mean, what Terry did was disgusting, but you were a party to it. How can you tell me anything else and expect me to forgive you?”

  He sighed and shoved his hands into his back pockets. When he did that, a breath gusted from her and she wiggled her head again, almost as though she were shaking out the cobwebs.

  Ignoring the odd gesture, he murmured, “Do we have to discuss this outside?”

  She pulled a face. “No, I guess not. But don’t...well, don’t get any funny ideas.”

  “As if I could, Meg. Christ. I just want a chance to explain myself. That’s it.”

  She nodded, but didn’t seem altogether convinced of his altruism. Well, she’d learn.

  “I guess you can come in, then.”

  He joined her on the driveway and walked the ten feet to her front door. The neat yard was landscaped with pebbles and the area was lined with tidy bushes. The facade of the house was red brick with a low gable roof. It was an odd style, not exactly befitting the local area, but it had character.

  Just like its owner.

  “I’m surprised you stayed in this place,” he remarked when she unlocked the door.

  “It’s my home. I have no memories of what happened here. I'm glad we used the club now. At least I can't associate that time with this place.” She shrugged. “Plus, I own it.”

  That made him blink. “Terry never...”

  “I never told him. We shared the ‘rent’, but it covered the mortgage.”

  He blinked again. “Did you trust him, Meg?”

  His question made her freeze. She paused in the doorway before bustling forward, actively avoiding answering him as she headed down a long hall to a room he knew was the kitchen.

  He hadn’t been here too many times. Mostly because it had been painful to consider what might have been, but he’d been enough to know the basic layout.

  Her aim the fridge, he watched as she pulled out a soda, then shook the can at him in silent offering. When he murmured, “Please,” she grabbed a glass and poured the drink into it, then passed it to him, making sure their fingers didn’t touch.

  When he took a sip, his cheeks tingling with the bubbles, he murmured, “Are you ready to listen?”

  “I wouldn’t have asked you here if I wasn’t.”

  “You say that now but you have no idea what I have to tell you.”

  “Get on with it. I’ll soon find out.”

  He sucked in a breath. “That first night you met Terry, he asked you out because I was building up the courage to ask you for a dance.”

  She frowned and he knew he’d hit her from an angle she hadn’t considered. “What?”

  “He only asked you out because I was interested in you.” He closed his eyes a second, not wanting to see her disbelief. She had no reason to trust him, though he spoke the God’s honest truth. “I know how that sounds, and I know you might think I’m being mean…but Terry, he’s always had a problem with me.
Everything’s a competition. It was that way back then, and it’s still like that to this day.

  “I do nothing to feed it. If anything, his need to beat me has made me miserable. Maybe made both of us miserable, but it’s just a part of his nature. I can’t stop it.”

  “You mean, he wasn’t interested in me at all? Only in one-upping you?”

  He blew out a breath. Well aware this could go down South quickly now. “Yeah,” he admitted gently. “He took it so far though that I know his feelings for you changed, but still, those are the origins of your relationship.

  “I know it sounds crazy, but I... when I saw you dancing in that club, I knew I had to be with you. To dance with you. The stuff going through my head freaked me out. Terry saw I was interested you, and as he usually did, took advantage.”

  She leaned back against the counter, then, heaved herself up onto it. As she did, her skirt pulled taut against her thighs, displaying the perfect roundness of her curvy ass and hips.

  His cock twitched in reaction, and it was crazy because he could watch porn and barely have a hard on, but Meg’s skirt pulling tight to her body was enough to make his shaft jerk...

  That was the power she had over him.

  God help him.

  “Do you believe me?” he asked when, after a good few minutes had passed, she remained silent.

  “Why would you lie?” she retorted eventually, taking another sip of her drink.

  Her calmness was perturbing—it was the last thing he’d been expecting. “Well, I have no need to.”

  Meg peered at him, the owlish gesture discomfiting him further. “So, the last six years have involved more lies than I realized.”

  “No. I don’t think so. I think Terry, well, I think he must have wanted you badly enough to try to make it work. Hell, you can ask him if you really want to know. What I’m concerned about is me and you.”

  “Bullshit. There is no me and you. There never has been.”

  He shook his head. “Don’t make me prove myself again.”