Only for the Night (If Only Book 2) (19 page)

“Okay.” Sage’s word said one thing, her tone another. “It’s not important anymore.”

Another lie. Everything about her was important. He’d known that for a while now. He just hadn’t expected
everything about her
to include this. He stared through the darkness at the woman he’d held in his arms last night and realized, accepted for the very first time, that with her he had come back to life. He’d been living in a daze, the mask of easygoing rocker without a care or responsibility in the world except his dog getting him through the days with a minimum of effort. If he didn’t care, he didn’t hurt. He didn’t lose, like he’d lost his family, his job, his friends.

Until Sage. She’d shaken him awake, and he knew with sudden certainty that he didn’t want to lose that, lose her. He wanted to keep her, and that meant he had to fight for her. For them.

“Everything about you is important, Sage.”

He meant it, but she didn’t think so—he caught the shake of her head through the darkness.

“It is. Tell me.” He stood and started slowly across the room. “Trust me.”

“I don’t trust dicks,” she said. The strain in her voice cut into him, drawing blood.

That’s when he got on his knees. Pride didn’t matter, and neither did being right. All that mattered was healing the hurt he’d inflicted. He knelt at her feet, scooting in as close as he thought she’d let him—and, admittedly, hoping to mitigate the impact if she decided to kick him—and took her hand. It was balled into a fist, but she didn’t pull away. “I’m sorry. I— There are reasons I…”
Fuck.
“I want to explain.”

“Probably a good idea.”

He fought to find the words.
Man up, Nash.
“You know I used to be a cop in LA. My dad was a cop, my uncle. My brother.” He reminded himself to breathe. “It was the only route I considered after college. Upholding the family tradition. Fighting for truth, justice, and the American way.” Bitterness coated the words, a bitterness he hadn’t been able to erase in eight long years. His belief in truth and justice had soured along with his law enforcement career.

Sage’s fist relaxed as she listened. He stroked his thumb across the back of her hand, coaxing her, saying
I’m sorry
with every pass. “I had a few years under my belt before I was assigned a new partner. Coger. Big guy, knew his stuff. Good partner, or so I thought.”

He had to take a moment to swallow. Sage didn’t move, didn’t protest; she waited.

“Partners tend to get close. Wasn’t long before we were attending family barbecues and hanging out after work. Coger was married, and it took even less time for me to notice there was something off about his wife.”

“Like what?” Sage’s hand opened beneath his as she waited for him to speak. Hank kept his strokes steady, not wanting her to realize what she’d done, the gift she’d given him, and have her jerk it away from him again.

“Like she was timid. Scared. I’d seen it before, women who’d lived through abuse. I didn’t want to pry, so I didn’t ask. Not till I ran into her one day at the store. She was bending over to grab a flat of water, and when I went to help her, I noticed a bruise. It was on her neck, a ring of blue, like she’d been choked.”

His breath was getting faster, his pulse beginning to thump in his ears. Sage turned her hand beneath his, opening herself to comfort him.

“I got a lot more observant then. Started asking questions.” He’d investigated his own partner. “Turns out Coger was a Dominant. His wife was his sub. Only…” He squeezed Sage’s hand. “Let’s just say he didn’t play by any rules. I tried to convince her to get away, to trust me. I tried—”

He choked off the words.

“What happened, Hank?”

“She almost died. And I took the fucker down.”

Sage’s gasp rang in the air between them.

“There’s an unwritten code in many departments, mine included: never rat out a brother. I broke that code.” He made himself meet Sage’s eyes, and a jolt of surprise hit him at the gleam of tears. “I couldn’t live with it, and I couldn’t live with the men who would rather sweep it under the rug than give the PD a bad name. Including my family.”

“So you left,” Sage said quietly. “Is that when you moved here?”

He nodded. When he’d moved here, when he’d thrown his lot in with V. and they’d started Weekend Washout. When he’d abandoned any and all responsibility for other people, preferring the uninhibited loyalty of his German shepherd to most humans. He’d been hiding, even if he hadn’t known it. He couldn’t hide any longer.

“V. is my family, Sage, V. and Knight and the band. Alice and Merry. I love them, and I love him like a brother. But I try not to think about what he does, what he is. All I can think about when I hear the word ‘Dom’ is Tara’s face. Her beautiful face, bloody and beaten. I can’t—” Nausea rose again, and he put his head down on her thigh, right next to their hands, unable to let Sage see what those memories did to him.

“It’s okay, Hank.”

Her words seemed to bring Hank out of the memories that had taken over his reality. His gaze cleared, his skin lost that green tinge that had crept in, and his eyes lifted to lock with hers. She repeated them, wanting to know for certain that he understood exactly what she was saying. “It’s okay. I understand. I don’t need…” She didn’t even want to say it, didn’t want to bring up things she knew hurt him, but she had to. “I don’t need to be dominated.”

“Yes, you do.”

She met V.’s eyes as he came in the door across the room. She really wished he’d go back out. She wished this whole day had never happened. “I can go without it, V.”

“But you can’t.” V.’s words rang in the air, in Sage’s mind. “You can’t submerse that part of yourself.”

“I can.”

Hank spread his big hand atop her thigh, the fingers wrapping down the sides. Warm support, from someone who had every reason not to support her. “Should you have to?” he asked.

“It doesn’t matter. I wasn’t very good at the whole sub thing anyway.”

Hank snorted. “Says who?”

“Everyone. Isn’t that what Mas—what V. told you? He knows exactly how much of a failure I was as a sub.”

“That’s not what I saw,” V. said. The sincere tone made her eyes tingle with would-be tears. “I saw a sub who needed more than her Dom was willing or able to give. That doesn’t make you a failure, Sage. That’s all on him.”

She stared at him. “V., that’s…”

She didn’t know how to finish that sentence. The problem had been hers, not Kevin’s. Hadn’t it? And when he couldn’t deal with his broken sub anymore, he’d dumped her.

Hank squeezed her thigh to get her attention. She focused on him instead of the memories, the questions. “What exactly happened?” he asked.

Oh no. No.
She couldn’t—

V. cleared his throat, opened his mouth.

“No.”

V. shook his head. “You’ve both been through the ringer today; I know that. And I don’t think he needs details right now, but he has a right to know, at least some of it. It’s the only way to work this out.”

Hank cupped her face. “It’s okay,” he said, repeating her words back to her. “It’s gonna be okay, I promise.”

You can’t promise that.
The words rang in her head as V. began to speak, and she found her mind wandering down pathways she’d long hoped to forget the map to. Images she’d thought exorcised. Emotions that ripped through her just as hard now as they had all those months ago.

“V., that’s enough.” Hank’s voice. His face appeared before her. “Breathe, baby,” he whispered softly, just between the two of them. “Follow me.” He stared into her eyes and sucked in air, pushed it out. Sage found herself mimicking his actions without thought, easing the pain in her chest, her heart. With every exhale, the memory of Kevin’s face, that last look of pure disgust, faded, replaced by the acceptance she found in Hank’s expression. No disgust there, no disappointment, only strength.

God, he would make such a good Dom.

She closed her eyes at the thought. He’d never do it, not after what he’d shared with her.

The softest brush of lips crossed hers. A kiss. Her eyes popped open, and there was Hank, still staring, still accepting, lending her his strength. She could love this man—she knew it right then, right there. The thought brought her tears back, but she blinked them away, reached up instead to cup his face, rub her palm along that sexy stubble. When he closed his eyes and tilted his head deeper into her touch, she knew what she had to do.

“I’m done with it, Hank.” She met his reopened eyes with what she hoped was determination. “I mean it. I don’t need to submit to be happy. I’m fine without it.” If there was a twinge of longing in her chest, she ignored it. Hank and whatever they could have together was more important. She wouldn’t give up this chance.

A confused crease appeared between his eyebrows. “Then why does V. say you do need it?”

“Because he’s a Dom? They always think they know best. I’ve been there, done that. I’ll find my own way from now on.”

“So when I do this”—he pushed into her hair and fisted a handful, tugging just enough to make sure she felt it—“it does nothing for you?”

Her knees wobbled despite the fact that she was sitting, and her eyes rolled back in her head. The moan that escaped didn’t surprise either one of them, though Sage tried to hold it back.

“We’re hardwired to want what we want,” V. said from somewhere behind Hank. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“But I don’t want to want it!” She jumped to her feet, tearing away from Hank and nearly balding herself as her hair tangled around his fingers.

“Sage!” he hissed, forcing her to be still with a hard hand on her hip while he freed his fingers. She told herself the tears in her eyes were from the pain in her scalp, but she knew better.

“Hank, I will not let this rule my life.” She slapped a hand to her chest. “I decide what I want, and what I want is you. You aren’t a Dom. You can’t even take pulling my hair. I could never ask you to hit me, be rough with me. It wouldn’t turn you on; it would disgust you—
I
would disgust you. I can come just fine without the dominance.”

Hank frowned. “But you’d always feel like something’s missing.”

Why did he have to get her so well? “You’re talking like we’re in a committed relationship—”

“We are.” The way he prowled toward her set her stomach fluttering. “For as long as we’re together, we’re committed. Long-term or not, one night or a thousand, I’ll give you what you need.”

“My sexuality is not your problem,” she whispered. She would not saddle him with this.

Hank’s eyes went soft, tender at her words as if he knew exactly what she was trying to do. “Then why do I need to take care of you? Because I do, Sage. I need to know you have everything that makes you happy, that fulfills you. It’s not what I want; it’s what I
need
, what I have to have.”

“You’re a nice guy—”

“Nice? You think this is about being nice? You think my cock is rock hard and hurting because I’m nice?” One dark wing of an eyebrow went up, daring her to repeat her words.

“I—”

“Because I’m warning you, I’m not feeling particularly nice right now.” He moved right into her space, his big body forcing her back until her shoulder blades met the fridge. “In fact I’m feeling decidedly un-nice.”

And it was getting her hot as hell. Thank God the unforgiving surface behind her made up for her suddenly noodle-weak knees. “Hank, I—”

“Hush.” He leaned closer until his breath gusted against her lips. “Just…don’t say another word.”

Her gut clenched at his command.
Yes, that’s what I want. Control me. Please.
She wanted to kneel before him, wanted so badly to surrender, but Hank didn’t truly want her submission. She couldn’t relive that, wouldn’t beg for something her partner didn’t want to give.

“What is it?” he asked.

She closed her eyes. Dom or not, Hank had the instincts down pat. Even an experienced master didn’t always catch the subtle cues of a sub; she knew that from experience. Painful experience.

“I want…” She shook her head.

“What?” Hank’s rock-solid body pressed her against the cool stainless steel at her back. His voice dropped an octave, rumbling through his chest and into hers. Her nipples throbbed in time with her racing heartbeat. “Tell me what you want. Be honest with both of us.”

“I want…to get on my knees. I want you over me, commanding me, even…forcing me.” Her voice cracked as she revealed her deepest secrets to him. “I want you to take complete control, and then I want you to lose it. But you don’t need the same.” And she wouldn’t ask it of him. It was as wrong to ask him to change himself as it was for him to try to change her. “It’s okay. You don’t need the same.”

“I’m not so sure about that.”

Hank swung his head to stare at V., his gaze as shocked as she felt.

V. moved closer.

“I’m no Dom,” Hank told his friend.

“Not yet, but you are dominant.” V. moved to their side, and she watched as he eyed Hank’s posture. “Here’s what you’ve got to get in your head: You associate being a Dom with hurting someone. Dominance doesn’t have to be pain. It doesn’t have to be a lot of things—it’s what you make it between the two of you. Start with what makes you hot, what you need, and go from there.”