RockYourSoul (14 page)

She was so full, surely she’d come apart at any second. But
she didn’t. Both men possessed enough skill to push her higher and higher
without nudging her over the edge.

Suddenly, Dade’s hands moved away and Ryan’s mouth slipped
higher to press against her neck. His hand pushed through her hair, pulling her
mouth down to his. He pushed forward, burying his cock into her as far as he
could. His lips and tongue tasted and teased, his kisses varying in pressure,
but never in intensity.

Dade was the only one who moved, so she took the entire plug
with each stroke. He leaned forward as Ryan continued to kiss her, his lips
brushing against her ear so she heard his shallow pants. “I have to commend
you, sub. This glorious ass of yours was just made to fuck.”

Her body suddenly coiled tighter. She tore her mouth from
Ryan’s, breathing heavily as she fought off her body’s demand.

“Come on, California. Hold on just a little longer.” Ryan
started to move, matching the pace Dade set with the toy. She knew she wouldn’t
last long and fought her body with every stroke they delivered. Dade suddenly
slammed the glass toy fully into her, a guttural groan slipping past clenched
teeth as pleasure spun her higher.

“That’s it, subbie. You can take it.” Dade’s hand settled on
the swell of her ass cheeks, pulling her wide as he thrust. His hand shifted,
his knuckles dragging against her skin as he wrapped his hand around his beefy
length. “Feel what you do to me?” The head of his cock brushed against her ass,
hot liquid spreading over her skin in a thick trail.

The image of Dade jacking off behind her added another layer
to her arousal. She knew she couldn’t take this torment any longer. “Please.”

Ryan shook his head. “Not yet.” He moved slowly, withdrawing
then pushing back with exquisite slowness. Dade pulled back and thrust again,
his body now trembling against hers as he finally succumbed to his release with
a low growl.

“Please, Master,” she pleaded again, hoping the high
protocol would help convince him.

“Oh I like the sound of that. So desperate and needy.”
Ryan’s dark laughter surrounded her. “I’m not even warmed up yet, California.”
As if to illustrate, he slowed again, moving so leisurely it was as if time
ceased to progress.

Dade’s lips brushed against her neck, his hands coming
around to cup her breasts. His thumbs and forefingers closed over her nipples
just as Ryan buried himself to the root inside her. The pain shot straight
between her legs. She couldn’t hold back any longer.

She spun, careening out of control, riding the waves of pleasure
as they hit her full force. She was nothing but pure sensation. Pure need and
desire. She wanted everything and didn’t care how she got it as long as she got
something to sate this need. The men worked together, ensuring her body
betrayed her over and over.

She whimpered as Ryan’s firm hand on her jaw slammed her
back to reality.
No, no, too soon. Not enough. Need more. More.

“I do believe there is now a punishment on tap for tonight.”

“I’m sorry, Master.” She whimpered again, hoping beyond hope
he didn’t choose to call a halt to everything right now and carry out a
punishment. She couldn’t take that now, she just couldn’t. “I will atone
however you wish, but please, please don’t deny—
fuck
.”

“Such harsh language from such a darling submissive.” His laughter
rang out as he moved with rapid strokes, smiling as a string of swears filled
the air around them. “Go on, California. Give us that sweet release.”

She threw her head back, resting against Dade’s body as she
screamed.

* * * * *

She reeked of both men.

They looked so fucking happy. So joyous as they sat around a
table near the bar, laughing and joking about something known only to the trio.
He’d followed them to the bar from the warehouse, staying to the shadows. The
ease they had with one other made it evident they’d just had some kind of scene
inside the large building.

He couldn’t imagine hiding in some kind of building,
secreting away his preferences. Not when he had every right to put them proudly
on display for the world to see. A submissive of Beth’s caliber deserved to be
worshiped on a pedestal by others who could appreciate her willingness to
comply. Not tucked away and hidden from view.

He wondered how long they’d been fucking her.

Damn him for missing that fact. She’d always flourished when
multiple people were involved. He prided himself on his attention to detail and
he’d failed. A piece of information such as that could prove valuable. It was
something he could use whenever the time came.

And it would.

He would do whatever it took to guarantee he’d get what he
wanted.

His hand tightened against the water glass as the men on
either side of Beth laughed at something she said. Ryan slid his hand under her
long tresses, pulling her closer. As their mouths met, his ire notched a few
degrees higher.

Not a Dom’s kiss—a lover’s kiss.

Ryan was in love with the bitch.

The couple parted, a soft blush darkening Beth’s cheeks as
Ryan slid his finger down her face. The three resumed their animated
conversation, the other man brushing his fingers against the back of Beth’s
hand.

Who was he? How dare he put his hands on his property.

Rage burned inside him.

Neither man had earned the right to touch her in such a way.

She belonged to him. She was
his
property. His
cunthole. And he was tired of watching these two assholes transgress on what he
rightfully owned. Time to end this once and for all so he could take back what
belonged to him.

He shoved aside his water glass, ignoring the high-pitched
screech of the chair against the wood flooring as he kicked it away. He shoved
a patron when he lost sight of the trio for a split second. “Get out of my
fucking way.”

The customer held up his hands and moved quickly, but not
fast enough for his liking. When the man finally moved, the trio was no longer
sitting at the table. He spun, frantically searching Brogans before sighting
the three as they walked out the front door. Going back to the warehouse for
more debauchery more than likely. While he would normally commend the behavior,
he took exception because it was Beth.

His Beth.

“Do you need something, sir?”

Flexing his hands, he stared at the door as anger burned hot
in his stomach. He’d wait. It was too soon to make a move no matter how much he
wanted to. He breathed quietly, forcing himself to push away his rage. Losing
it here would raise too many red flags. Small town. Small talk.

“Sir?”

“Another water.” He turned his canted chair upright, his
gaze following the waitress as she made her way to the bar. Pert ass. Nice
tits. Pale skin that would mark up nicely. Too much makeup though. Thin too.
She would break under the force of his very first blow.

He wanted a sub made of heartier stock.

Like Beth.

The sun had just started to peek over the horizon as Beth
stepped out onto the sidewalk. She waved to Drew who had just taken over the
soundboard to start the station’s popular morning show.

A quick glance at her phone showed the morning had gotten
away from her as she’d recorded a few commercials. Though she was running a bit
later than normal this morning, it wasn’t as if she had something pressing to
rush off to.

Nothing was waiting for her other than a cold, empty bed.

In the few weeks since her panic attack, she hadn’t seen
much of Ryan. He called, of course, checking to see how her shift went. They’d
had dinner at his house last Friday, but he’d sent her away after a glass of
wine, claiming he needed to work.

The distance between them had spread wider than a chasm.

What should have brought them closer together only seemed to
push him further away. She refused to be ashamed of what happened. Pushing her
past the blocks Ethan had erected was the exact reason she’d asked Ryan for
help.

She’d started calling Ryan Master, for fuck’s sake. And it
felt
right
.

A niggling feeling in her gut told her his distance wasn’t
due to her uncontrolled reaction. There was still something Ryan wasn’t telling
her, something she couldn’t put her finger on. He wasn’t outright lying, but he
wasn’t being completely honest either.

But about what?

She liked the way he showed her she was stronger than she
believed, reminding her of the woman she was before she’d met Ethan. She wanted
to reach out and help him, but he tossed up a wall every time she tried. Then
again, he wasn’t the one who needed help. He wasn’t the one who’d started this
whole thing in the first place by showing up unannounced at his house.

Smooth move, Lawson.

Before she realized, she’d dialed Ryan’s phone. His
voicemail clicked on right away, signaling he’d turned off his phone. Which
meant he was buried in work on the boat and didn’t want to be disturbed.

Or he was avoiding her.

Exhaustion swept over her suddenly, weighing her entire
body. She’d let her own work carry her away. The Quilted Cow was all the way on
the other side of town, a long walk when she was already dragging her feet. She
tapped a set of keys against her palm. She was only two blocks away from the
warehouse.

Sanctuary had proven true to its name, rescuing her from the
depths of a darkness she thought would never disappear from her mind. Maybe it
could serve as her savior now. Ryan had given her a key for times he’d
commanded her to arrive before him and prepare herself.

Nothing wrong with grabbing a few Zs on the modest bed he
kept tucked in a corner of his room, right?

A few minutes later, the key he’d given her slid into the
keyway, the locks tumbling over one another sounded against the hollowness in
her stomach. A quick stop at the coffeehouse a few blocks away would net her
some food after she woke up.

The door handle jiggled but didn’t open. She’d had trouble
with the lock before and had even watched Ryan play with it more than a few
times. There was a trick to it, but damn if she could remember what it was.

She pushed again, using more pressure. The door held fast
and she growled as she kicked at the wood. Stupid useless piece of junk. She’d
have to say something to Ryan about it when he got back. He’d said Patrick had
plans to replace all four doors and locks because of the frustration the
occupants routinely experienced, but this was now past the point of ridiculous.

Figuring brute force seemed to be the only answer, she threw
her shoulder into the wood. It gave at the top, but held fast at the bottom.
One more shove should do it. Her shoulder slammed hard into the door and the
wood gave, spilling her into the room.

She stumbled through the door, catching herself before she
went completely to her knees. Brushing her hair out of her face, she noticed
the room was dark and reached behind her to flip on the light switch.

Unlike the typical harsh glare from the overhead lights,
only one light flipped on. Though the blub gave off a soft glow, it was enough
for her to see the room had been stripped bare of everything she’d come to
identify with Ryan.

Not a single piece of his furniture remained.

Now it was stark and cold, void of feeling and emotion.

She noticed the single, low light shining down on the center
of the room onto the only two pieces of furniture in the space. Pieces not
meant for sex. A simple ivory white tablecloth covered a round table with an
unvarnished chair standing before it. Blinking, she stared for a moment, unable
to process the sight in front of her.

She forced herself to move, closing the door to slowly make
her way to the table. As she sat, her fingers ran over the gorgeous silver
picture frame holding a picture of a stunning redhead cradling a newborn.

Ryan’s wife and child.

A hollowness bloomed in Beth’s stomach, her heavy sigh
reverberating through the empty room. Though she knew she didn’t belong here,
looking at such an obviously intimate thing, she found herself rooted to the
spot. This certainly explained why Ryan was in charge of altering the
functionality of each room. He could set up and not worry about the others
discovering his…shrine.

She studied the picture again, noting the absolute joy
emitting from the woman. Judging by the way she smiled at the person taking the
picture, there was no doubt in her mind Ryan was on the other side of the lens.

Her phone chimed in her pocket and she pulled it out,
scowling at the item of junk mail advertising a promise to increase the girth
of her quivering member. After deleting the unwanted mail, she queued up the
browser on her phone, pulled up Google and typed Ryan’s name into the search
engine.

Most of the hits returned pieces of information about the
successful boat business he’d crafted from nothing. But there were a few links
for news stories from five years ago. She read the first one, her stomach
flipping over when the article meticulously spelled out the gruesome details of
a bus crash that had taken the life of several members of Ryan’s band and a few
of their family and friends.

She shook the horrific images away, blindly scrolling past
the articles related to the crash. One small box caught her eye. She clicked on
the link, sitting back to wait for it to load. Within a few minutes the video
started, the roar of the crowd signaling it had been filmed during a concert.

Ryan’s voice filled the room. She tapped the volume button
on the side of her phone a few times for a more manageable level. A tightness
in her chest spread as she watched Ryan lift a small child into his arms and
continue to sing.

His son.

The sandy-haired toddler squealed and slapped his hands
together as Ryan walked out onto a long catwalk extending into the sea of
people. It hurt to watch this. To know what eventually happened to these people
on the screen. The heartbreak she knew Ryan had to have dealt with.

“That was the last concert I ever gave.”

Beth jumped, her phone clattering to the floor as she dropped
the device. Ashamed, she scrambled for the phone, but Ryan’s hand closed over
hers. Her gaze met his and the knot in her stomach tightened at the despair she
saw painted in those blue depths.

“You’re Ryan Mason.”

“No one calls me that anymore.” Ryan closed his eyes,
blowing out a sigh so heavy she felt it rattle through her bones. “I walked
away from my music career after the crash without so much as a backward glance.
Considering the radio market you came from, I expected you to recognize me
much, much sooner.”

“We didn’t pay much attention to the country side of the
industry. I’m sorry.” She moved to stop the playback, but his hand lifted to
stop her.

“It’s all right, let it play out.”

He increased the volume so his voice filled the room. His
pitch was perfect despite the fact this was a live performance. Instead of
watching the video, Beth watched the man who knelt in front of her.

He smiled at first, laughing at a cute joke his son told to
the crowd. But his expression soon fell as the band started another song and a
woman came out on the stage. She stepped to where her husband and child waited,
wrapping her arms around Ryan’s waist as she took their son into her arms. He
pressed a kiss to her lips as the crowd roared.

“They weren’t supposed to be there that night. But Lisa
decided to fly in and surprise me. I hadn’t seen Tobias’ new missing tooth. He
was so damn proud of that tooth. Wanted to show it off to his daddy. Didn’t
want to take no for an answer.” Ryan’s voice cracked and Beth hit the power button
to shut the phone down.

The harshness of the silence was a razor’s edge that slashed
the room, scoring them both. “I was supposed to protect him, Beth. I was
supposed to protect them both and I couldn’t.”

She lifted his face to ensure he looked directly at her.
“From what I saw, there was nothing you could have done. It was an accident.”

“One that wouldn’t have happened if—”

“If what?” Her arm snaked out to grab his hand as he pushed
it through his hair. “They hadn’t come? You were a family. The three of you had
every right to be together. After all this time why haven’t you dealt with
this?”

“I have.” He gave a halfhearted smile. “But some days are
tougher than others. Seeing the video right now doesn’t exactly help.”

She immediately felt sickened by her curiosity. She should
have simply asked. “I was snooping, I’m sorry. I only came here to get a few
hours of rest because I was too exhausted to make the walk out to The Quilted
Cow. I shouldn’t have come here without your permission.”

“I understand.”

Silence stretched out between them. She swallowed, tapping
her finger against her phone. “I remember seeing the news accounts afterward,
but to be honest I didn’t pay much attention. Just another celebrity accident
that seemed to come a dime a dozen.”

“The news reports got it wrong anyway.”

“How so?”

He snorted. “They just wanted sound bites for their gossip
segments. One of the reporters asked me how I felt about the tragedy. I took my
anger for the whole ordeal out on him.” His eyes lost focus, changing as he
went to some place without her. She knew at this moment, the best thing she
could do for him was to be there as he faced this.

“I saw that too.” News reporters could be vicious with their
demands to get the story. Judging by the articles she’d seen slamming him, it
appeared as if Ryan had taken a heavy brunt. No doubt the horrible emotions he
had to be dealing with at the time contributed to his demeanor, explaining why
he’d taken a swing at the reporter.

“The news splashed it all over the front page, making it
their lead story. The attack, the trial, everything. But the one thing no one
ever mentioned was what the guy said directly to me. That wouldn’t be news
then.”

The harshness of his tone concerned her. Suddenly what he
had to say wasn’t important anymore. “Ryan—”

“He wanted to know what it felt like to have your entire
world taken away from you when you’d worked so hard to reach the top.”

The fury on his expression scared her. This had gotten out
of hand. “Ryan—”

“I’d gotten good at letting what the press said about me and
my family just bounce right off. You learn to develop a really thick skin in
the music industry. You have to or it’ll chew you up and spit you out so fast
your head will spin. But everyone has their limits and that day the dickhead found
mine.”

She realized he wasn’t going to stop anytime soon. Not until
he’d purged those deep-rooted emotions after the tremendous buildup of years
and years. She thought about the healing process he’d been guiding her on. The
things he’d forced her to face even though they terrified her. She knew, better
than perhaps anyone, facing your darkest moments head on was the best medicine
a soul could possibly receive.

“Tell me what happened, Ryan.”

He cleared his throat, reining in whatever was going on in
his mind. “I punched the reporter because I’d just come from holding Tobias’
hand while they turned off life support.”

“Stop. Just stop.” The desperate strangle of his voice made
her want to rescind the encouragement she’d given him. “There’s no need to put
yourself though this.”

“It’s all right.” He sat back on his heels, staring off at
the wall behind her before his gaze fell on the table. “Today would have been
Tobias’ eleventh birthday.”

As tears slipped down his cheeks, Beth pulled him close. His
arms came around her without any encouragement. Muscles in his back, strong and
honed from hours of hard work on the boat, trembled.

She was helpless to do anything more than hold him. When he
started to pull away, she went with him. His hands bracketed her waist and she
pushed up with one arm so she could look down at him. She reached down,
skimming her fingertips against his angular jaw. “Thank you. For trusting me
enough to finally tell me.”

“I should have told you when I noticed something between us
was different. It wasn’t a matter of trust, Beth. I’m sorry you thought that.”

“I really didn’t know what else to think. I knew there was
something. I was determined to get to the bottom of things. Had I known the
extent, I would’ve just let it all go.”

“And that’s my fault. As your Dom, you have to trust me.
It’s a two-way street and I think that’s why I still kept you at arm’s length
even after you had your breakthrough. Definitely not something you want in this
lifestyle. Here I was trying to help you when I needed help as well. Sometimes
even I have a hard time seeing the forest through the trees.”

“No, you did the right thing. Not moving forward any more
than you thought was right, given the circumstances. In some fucked-up way, I
think it worked out for the best for both of us. I was worried I’d done
something wrong. I thought I’d scared you off somehow when I called you
Master.”