Only for the Night (If Only Book 2) (29 page)

“I know I made some mistakes,” Kevin said. “I know I…hurt you. But before that, before everything went wrong, we had something special; you know we did. I— Christ.” The sound of a harsh breath escaping reached her. “I just need…I want you to let me explain, let me take you home. Stop trying to prove a point, to get back at me, and come work it out. Please. I need you.”

“This shouldn’t be about what you need,” Hank snapped. “That’s where you went wrong.”

Kevin shifted like he would step forward, but Hank’s low growl stopped him. Really, her lover had quite a bit in common with his pet. Still, his protective attitude reassured her in a way no other response could have.

And he wasn’t done yet.

“She told you very clearly that she didn’t want to hear from you again. Exactly how does that translate into ‘come stalk me in my own business’?”

Kevin zeroed in on Hank, probably coming to the conclusion that ignoring the man wasn’t going to make him go away. “Again, who are you?”

“I’m Hank Nash. Sage’s boyfriend.”

Kevin’s snort was dismissive. “Sage, honey, we were good together. He can never master you like I did.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” Hank moved to stand beside Sage, and when she glanced up at him, it was to see satisfaction crossing his face. “See, I don’t need whips and chains to master her. All I need to do is love her.”

Love her? Sage dug her fingernails into her palms. Did he love her? He’d never said. But then, neither had she.

“You should also know I’m an ex-cop with friends still on the LA police force. So if you don’t suddenly want all kinds of hell coming down on you, I suggest you say your good-byes now and never—and I do mean that literally—
never
come near her again.”

He didn’t still have friends on the LAPD; at least, she was pretty sure he didn’t. The fact that he’d lie to keep her safe warmed some of the ice that had taken up residence in her chest in the last half hour.

Kevin got the message; the whiteness of his face said it was loud and clear.

“Now you’ve got about a minute to get yourself back out that door.” Anger vibrated in Hank’s voice. “Consider it a gift—to Sage. I’d rather kick your ass.”

Kevin turned a narrowed gaze on her. She lifted her chin. “My life is no longer your concern, Kevin.”

If her words registered, she couldn’t tell; Kevin’s stare was unreadable. After a moment he backed toward the door, only speaking when he had a hand flat against its surface. His smile was stiff. “It probably wouldn’t have worked out anyway. You could never be the sub I need. A good sub.”

And then he was gone.

His words rang in her ears long after the doors went still.

“Sage?” Hank asked quietly.

She tried to look up, to reassure Hank that she was fine, but she didn’t have the strength. She was shaking, she realized.

Careful hands turned her toward him. “Sage, are you all right?”

You could never be the sub I need. A good sub.

“Sage, are you okay?”

Hank’s demand finally registered. She didn’t know why it took so long to turn her head, to look at him, didn’t know why her chest ached like she was having a heart attack and she couldn’t breathe. She didn’t understand any of it. But she met his eyes like she was supposed to. Like a good sub.

A shaky breath finally filtered into her lungs.

“I’m fine.”

Hank didn’t seem to believe that any more than she did, but he didn’t challenge it. Instead he waited silently while she took off her apron and set it on the counter. She managed something that probably barely resembled a smile, though it felt more like stretched taffy than the reassurance she’d intended. “I’m fine. Really.”
What is wrong with me?

Hank didn’t hug her, one of the few times she’d been upset that he hadn’t immediately taken her into his arms. Bear hugs were as common as bear claws with him. But instead of surrounding her, he gave her space to breathe, merely clasping her hand between both of his and chafing it lightly as if trying to warm her some other way. “Why don’t you take a break?”

Wasn’t that why she’d taken off her apron? And yet she opened her mouth to say no, she didn’t need a break. What came out instead was, “I can’t leave Merry shorthanded.”

The swinging doors opened as if her friend had been waiting for a signal. “Merry can handle herself,” she said as she breezed into the kitchen. “Lunch rush is over. Maybe the big lug over there can help me out.” Her warning tone dared him to argue despite it being his idea for Sage to leave. “You go on now. Get a bit of a rest.”

How had Merry known Sage desperately needed to be alone, just for a few minutes? Sage hadn’t even realized it, not consciously. “I—”

Tears pricked the backs of her eyes, which was ridiculous because all the drama was over. So why did she want to cry?

Hank nodded at Merry’s suggestion, seeming to understand even if Sage didn’t. His kiss was sweet, careful, his eyes understanding. The thumbs that stroked across her cheeks were rough with calluses but oh so tender. And then he turned her around, a soft shove on her backside sending her toward the back door. “Take a nap, baby. I’ll be up in a little bit.”

“Okay.” She stepped past him, then turned back. “Hank, I…”
Love you.

Hank’s beautiful eyes went soft as he smiled down at her. “I know.”

He didn’t even know what she was going to say. How could he know? But for some reason it seemed too complicated a puzzle to figure out at the moment, so she went out the door without responding.

You could never be the sub I need. A good sub.

Upstairs, she let herself into the apartment. Knight danced at her feet, eager for attention, but her strokes along his broad head were automatic. Why? She didn’t still love Kevin. She didn’t want him back. Didn’t care what he thought about her. Maybe this was relief?

You could never be the sub I need. A good sub.

Why had that hit her so hard?

Her steps down the hall were taken without thought. In her bedroom she closed the door behind her, ignoring Knight’s whine to follow her inside. One by one, her clothes came off, dropping to the floor with no more than a whisper of sound. When she was naked, she walked to the dresser, not the bed. Wasn’t she going to take a nap? That’s what Hank had told her to do.

What she did was kneel. Right there, facing the door, the plush rug beneath her bare knees. She knelt, thighs apart, palms up, spine straight. Closed her eyes. And waited.

She had no idea how long she was there. Minutes, hours, days passed—she didn’t know. Only the
click
of the bedroom door opening finally registered.

Hank.

Help me.

He understood her so well. All he had to do was see her, and he would know. Just from the position of her body. What she needed. What she wanted from him.

“Sage.” His low voice demanded her attention. The perfect blend of understanding and command. Relief melted her fear away. “Look at me.”

It took forever to tilt her chin up. On the way, she became aware of her trembling mouth. Sniffling nose. Fever-hot cheeks. She was crying. When had she started crying?

“Look at me, Sage.”

She did. And winced. The worry in those hazel eyes burned so deep it hurt her just to look at him.

“Baby…” He went to kneel in front of her.

Panic beat at her, bruising her breastbone. “No! Stay back!”
Look at me. See me!
“I need—”

Hank backed away, but his head was already shaking. “No, Sage. We need to talk.”

“I need—”

“What you need,” he said, “is to talk to me.”

The words were a lit match to the building tension inside her. “Don’t tell me what I need!”

“I will tell you what you need—I’m your Dom. But aside from that, I love you. And I can see it so much clearer from the outside than you can on the inside. That’s what I’m here for, isn’t it? To see what you need and give it to you?”

His words echoed in her head. She couldn’t even deal with the
I love you
right now; that was impossible. And crappy timing.

Somehow the irritation broke through her fog when nothing else had. She pushed it away.

“Sage, you can’t deal with your problems like this.”

She shot him the nastiest look she could, uncaring that being on her knees and naked had her at a disadvantage. “Of course I can. I can deal with them however I want to—it’s you who’s not willing to deal. You don’t want to help me any more than Kevin did.”

Whoa.

Just like that, everything clicked. And not only for her.

Hank’s eyes went wide. “This isn’t about Kevin, really. Is it? This is about testing me, making sure I’m not like him.”

“No!” Of course not. Except it was, wasn’t it? “I kno—”

He was on her in a second. Sage fought like a wildcat, but Hank sat on the floor and wrestled her naked body into his lap like she was merely swatting flies. Hugging her into his chest gave her zero leverage to get a good hit in; his head tucked behind hers forestalled a head butt. He simply clamped down and waited.

But she couldn’t surrender. When she couldn’t smack, she shoved herself against him, doing her best to throw him away from her. She yanked against his hold, kicked her legs, yelled every name she could think of, and still he held on. Horror tinged the edges of her awareness—she was trying to hurt the one person who gave a damn about loving her—but all control was lost in the firestorm of emotion raging inside her.

And Hank stayed with her through every second.

Sage hadn’t realized her breathing had sped up until the harsh sounds began to echo in her ears. Her throat closed up tight, choking off her air. The rough wheezing scared the shit out of her, making it even harder to draw breath.

Hank laid his hand between her breasts.

“Easy. It’s all right. Easy, Sage.”

“I can’t— I can’t—”

“Easy, baby.” He rubbed her breastbone lightly. Even when she clawed at his hand, desperate for air, he didn’t panic. “Breathe with me, Sage.” The sound of air being sucked in was a distant hiss, then the release. Again. Each time he repeated the action, it got louder until she found herself trying to follow him, trying to do as he commanded. It took long moments for her panic to subside, but Hank held her through it, every second.

When finally she got a full breath of air, she sagged against him. Her body ached, bruises and tension and the strain of kneeling for so long mingling until she couldn’t tell the difference. Her eyes were closed, she realized, her face streaked with tears that refused to stop. Lying still in Hank’s arms, she wept like her world had come to an end.

And maybe it had. The old one, at least.

The display didn’t shock Hank—nothing seemed to shock him, scare him away, thank God. He rocked her gently, soothed her, crooned to her. Sang. His gravelly voice washed over her, a reassurance that he was right there with her and wouldn’t go anywhere, no matter what he saw, what she did. No matter what had happened in her past, who had abandoned her before.

He wasn’t Kevin. He didn’t have to say the words for them to sink into her heart and sprout leaves. Her heart had been a barren wasteland without her mother, her home. Even who she was had been shaken to its foundation. In this moment, the death throes of that life surged inside her, but Hank was there to show her the way back out. She was lost, but he would find her. She was crying out for help, but he wouldn’t leave her alone.

She didn’t have to be afraid anymore.

“I’m sorry.” The words were hoarse, but she managed to squeeze them through her ragged throat.

The shake of Hank’s head tangled her hair in his stubble, tugging on her scalp. “This was inevitable. You’ve been trying to be perfect for so long—the good daughter, the good chef, the good sub. This was just the final straw.” He shook her lightly. “You needed to get it out, little hellcat.”

And he’d helped her do that. “How did you know…?”

“Instinct. You and V. are always telling me to listen to them, right?” He rearranged her into a more comfortable position across his lap, leaned her back against his arm so he could look into her eyes. “You don’t need me to hit you to deal with your grief, or your anger, or your pain, Sage. You need me to see you, deep down where no one else can reach. I can do that. I can keep you safe.”

She knew he could.

“I’m not really, you know.”

“Not what?”

“A good sub. Maybe that’s what’s been wrong all along, why Kevin never understood me. I mean, I can’t even do this”—she waved a hand, barely able to lift it under Hank’s hold—“right. What good am I to anyone if I don’t even know what’s best for me?”

The muscles beneath her, around her had tensed bit by bit with every word out of her mouth. By the time she finished, Hank was stone and steel. “Sage, look at me.”

That tone pulled her gaze to his whether she wanted it up or not. He looked angry. A shiver ran down her spine.

“Did you do anything wrong that night, with Kevin?”