Debauched (Undone Book 3) (29 page)

“You do that.”

With that, he seems to relax, but a sense of foreboding creeps over me, leaving me cold.

Afraid.

Chad

I’m nursing a beer, watching Ruby talk to her friend Gene while trying to control the irrational possession beating away at me. I don’t like the way the guy’s looking at her, smiling at her. I thought he lingered too long when he hugged her. I though his gaze was a little too hungry.

Of course, I’m ninety-nine percent sure this is all made up in my head and even if it’s not, Ruby’s a big girl. She can handle herself. I’ve always rolled my eyes at jealous boyfriends, and I’m sure as hell not about to become one of them, even though that’s how I feel on the inside.

I’m too enlightened for that.

My mom raised me better. Girl power and all that.

Gene puts an arm around Ruby’s waist and hugs her again.

I grit my teeth and signal the bartender for another beer.

Someone taps me on the shoulder and I turn to find Layla looking up at me. She smiles. “Hey.”

“Hey.” At least I’ll have a distraction away from the guy talking to Ruby and how much I don’t like it. I don’t even understand the emotion. Except that it’s wrong. That it says something about me.

Jealousy is weakness. It’s a lack of confidence.

So that must mean I don’t feel confident about Ruby even though, in theory, she’s exactly where I want her.

Layla tilts her head to the side. “You know, I’ve been thinking.”

The bartender hands me the beer and I sit down on the empty stool to focus on Layla. “Oh yeah? That’s dangerous.”

“Indeed.” She sounds so much like Michael right then it can’t help but make me smile.

“And what have you been thinking about?” I take a sip and ignore the compulsion to find out what Ruby is up to.

“How life is funny. When we met on that blind date so long ago it was like I knew you, even though you were a stranger.”

I nod. It’s true. Even though it was pretty clear she was traumatized at the time, Layla and I had connected that night. Not sexually, but in that instant kinship kind of way. So much so that when I ran into her months after on a fluke it didn’t surprise me in the least. “It was like that.”

She waves a hand at Ruby. “Maybe she’s why.”

Given an excuse to drink her in I gaze at her, still talking to Gene, but now the other guys from the band are there too. It’s hard to remember back to when I first met her and didn’t give her more than a passing glance. It wasn’t that I hadn’t thought she was smart and interesting and pretty, but more that we came from different, incompatible universes. “Maybe.”

She clears her throat. “Did you tell her not to talk to me about you?”

I raise a brow. “Do I really seem like the kind of guy that would do that?”

In fact, I wish Ruby would talk to Layla and Jillian. In my experience women need other women to talk to, to help calm the noise in their head. That Ruby chooses to remain silent about her relationship with me is worrisome.

“No.” She shakes her head in the rhythm of the word. “But I don’t understand why she won’t talk to me. I’m her best friend. I have experience. I know her. Her fears. Her reservations. It has to be overwhelming, and I can help her with that, but she won’t open up.” She waves a hand in Michael’s direction. “But he insists I have to let her come to me.”

I’m not surprised Michael’s said this; he’s a very intuitive guy, almost scarily so. But the request didn’t come from me. I shrug. “You’ll have to listen to your fiancé, Layla. You know I can’t help you with that.”

A sly expression crosses over her features. The kind smart, submissive girls are prone to. “He said I couldn’t talk to Ruby, he didn’t say anything about
you
.”

I laugh. She’s found the loophole. “I wish I could help you, girl. But this is between Ruby and me. She’ll talk to you when she’s ready, but I’m not stopping her.”

“I know, but I want to make sure she’s okay, you know?”

“I know.”

“At least I can rest assure that you’re a good guy who will finally treat her the way she deserves.”

“I do my very best.”

“I know you do. I’ve never seen her so happy.”

“I’m glad.” And I am, my main priority is keeping Ruby happy.

Layla fingers the silver necklace she wears, a tiny lock around her throat signaling to anyone who knows about that kind of thing, that she’s owned and spoken for. In our crowd it speaks as loudly as the ring on her finger.

I wonder if I’ll ever put something like that around Ruby’s neck.

And just like that it hits me like a two by four.

Why I’m jealous and possessive. Because there’s a part of me that feels like she’s not really mine. For weeks I’ve been telling myself I’m cool with the way things are between us. Because everything is so, so good. And it’s true, in theory, I’ve been taking exactly what I want from her almost from the very beginning. I’ve been slow and careful and methodical. I make sure she craves everything I do to her, and god does she respond, but it’s not settled.

I want more.

I don’t want to ignore the elephant in the room.

And while I don’t need a bunch of rules the way other dominant types might, I do need acknowledgment that I control her. That I’m the one running the show.

Like Layla, I want Ruby to finger the necklace at her throat and know it’s there because of me. That she wears it because she chose to belong to me.

I need her acceptance. Her submission. Not by default, as it is now, but because she gave it to me of her own free will. Because it’s what she wants and needs as much as I do.

I haven’t pushed her, or forced her to talk about it, telling myself it was because she wasn’t ready.

But that’s bullshit.

I’ve been lying to myself. I haven’t pushed because I’m afraid. Afraid all the time I’ve spent showing her how submissive she is, and how good it makes her feel, won’t matter. That I’ll lose her because of this.

She’s ready; it’s straining at the seams to get out, even if she doesn’t see it that way. I’ve known since I touched her for the first time the confrontation wouldn’t be easy. And at the start, I’d been right not to force it. But we’re past that now.

It’s me—and my fear—that’s standing in the way.

That’s not a good reason.

I can’t keep pretending it doesn’t exist. That it’s not important to me.

Because it is.

She needs to understand that. If she can’t, if she won’t accept it, then I can’t let either one of us go deeper.

I can’t ignore it any longer. Good dominants don’t let things slide. It’s their responsibility to push. To help their submissive grow and become everything she’s meant to be. And I can’t do that if Ruby doesn’t give me that power over her.

If she doesn’t get down on her knees and officially turn it over to me.

I turn back to look at her. My stubborn rocker princess.

Deep in my gut I know the truth. As I’ve known it all along. I’m in love with a girl that only wants a part of me, and as much as I don’t want it to matter, it fucking does.

Ruby

Something is wrong.

We’re back at Chad’s, but he hasn’t attacked me the way he normally does. Hasn’t tried to consume me, or driven me crazy, or sexually tortured me. Instead, he’s watched me. Intently and with purpose. As though he’s waiting for something, only I don’t know what it is.

On the ride back home he hadn’t teased me at all. He hadn’t touched me. He’d been silent.

I’m not used to his silence.

I’m afraid to ask what’s wrong.

I’d removed the plug—such exquisite torment at the beginning of the night, now forgotten. I’m in the bathroom not sure I want to face whatever is waiting for me. Earlier, I’d thought all I’d had to be nervous about was Chad’s big cock in my ass, but I know now I’m not going to get that lucky.

I’m wearing a black tank top and my batman panties and I want to put something else on but all my clothes are in the bedroom. I bite my lip. It’s time to stop stalling.

I take a deep breath and go meet my fate.

When I open the bathroom door, he’s waiting for me, as I suspected he would be.

He’s sitting on the edge of the bed, his elbows on his knees, fingers laced, and that’s not happiness on his face.

Unable to stand it a second longer, I clear my throat. “Are you still mad about before?”

He shakes his head. “No. That’s not it, but we need to talk.”

Panic rushes through me, turning my stomach, and making me sick. Oh my god, he’s breaking up with me. Here I’ve been falling in love with him and he’s breaking up with me.

Hot spikes of fear prickle across my skin. I cannot handle that talk, not from him. I walk over to where a pair of my jeans are draped on the chair and jerk them on over my feet. “It’s not necessary. I’ll get out of your hair.”

I yank the denim over my hips.

“Where do you think you’re going?” His words are low and deadly serious.

I zip up and turn to him. “You can spare me
the talk
.”

His gaze narrows. “Sit down, Ruby.”

“I don’t want to do this.” I shake my head. “Everyone in the world knows what—we need to talk—means, and I don’t want to hear you make a bunch of excuses about ending it.”

A muscle ticks in his jaw. “You think I’m ending it?”

“Aren’t you? Isn’t that what—” I make air quotes, “—the talk means?”

“In my case it means I want to talk to you.” He sighs. “I don’t know if it will end us or not.”

My eyes tear and I blink them away. “Where is this coming from?”

“I’m in love with you.” The words are even, almost flat sounding.

Stunned, I sink with a thud into the chair. “You’re in love with me?”

He nods. “Aren’t you in love with me?”

“Yes.”

“Say the words to me. At least once.”

I mean them with my whole heart but I stumble over the sentence anyway. “I…I love you.”

“I love you too, Ruby.” Unlike my own, his voice is rock steady.

This declaration should fill me with elation, but the dread continues to grow like a thorn bush, knotty and painful. I suck in my breath. “I’ve never said them before.”

He smiles. “Me either.”

I look down at the floor. “So why do I feel like crap?”

“Probably because of what the I love you means to me.” His tone is serious.

Suddenly, I know deep down where this is going. My respite is over. He’s not going to let me ignore what he is any longer. I don’t want to ask the question but I do. Because it’s the adult thing to do, and I’ve recently discovered being an adult is who I want to be now. I gulp down my fear. “What does it mean to you?”

I meet his gaze and he’s studying me intently, fingers still laced tight between his knees. “I don’t think I can keep ignoring the elephant in the room.” He smiles, gently, almost with resignation. “I want to own you properly.”

My heart starts to pound. “What does that mean?”

I’d known this was coming but everything was so good between us I didn’t think it would be this soon. I thought I’d have more time. I need more time.