Desperate Domination (Bought by the Billionaire #3) (6 page)

“Jackson, look at me,” she repeated. “Let me see your face.”

Slowly, he tilted his head, meeting her gaze in the dim light. The moon was hiding behind the thick clouds that had moved in not long after sunset, but there was enough illumination to see the way her eyes glittered with a mixture of rage and suspicion. It was clear that she would never trust him again, not even the small amount that she had before.

The knowledge made his chest feel heavy and his voice flat when he said, “Because I deserve it.”

“What did you do to deserve it,” she pressed, refusing to let him off easy. “Tell me what you did wrong.”

“Once I knew who you were, the ugliness should have stopped,” he said. “I never should have fucked you on the beach or dragged you back here against your will. And I sure as hell shouldn’t have put you in the kennel.”

“Then why did you?” she asked, shaking her head as if he were a puzzle she would never be able to make sense of.

But there was no puzzle. He was a simple creature, a simple monster, and after all he’d put her through she deserved to know his creation story.

“Because I’m a twisted son of a bitch. Like you said. And I’m never going to be anything else.” He took a deep breath. “It started six years ago when your sister filed a report with the military police accusing me of rape.”

He let the rest of the story spill out, every detail of that summer that had started out golden and ended in a nightmare he couldn’t wake from, no matter how many times he’d insisted that he had never touched Harley in anger.

“I don’t know how she did it,” he continued. “In the video of her interview with the police she was covered in bruises, but the last time I saw her she was fine. There wasn’t a mark on her. I saw every inch of her.” He swallowed hard. “We slept together and I told her that I loved her for the first time. She said she loved me, too, and…I believed it. I believed her.”

His lip curled, disgust for the fool he’d been making his skin crawl. “Later, I found out that she’d been killed later that same night, on her way to elope with my best friend, days after framing me for a crime I didn’t commit. I was sentenced to eighteen months in a military prison and dishonorably discharged from the Marines. My family hasn’t spoken to me since I was taken in for questioning.”

Hannah’s breath rushed out. “Jesus.” She sat down across from him, her arms still folded at her chest. “I thought it was something like that, but I never… I had no idea that you’d gone to prison. Or that the man who was in the car with her was your friend.”

“Don’t pity me,” he said in a brittle voice. “That’s not why I told you the truth. I told you so you’ll understand that I have nothing to offer you except the chance to even the score. Now go get the crop.”

“I don’t want to get the crop,” she said, sounding exasperated. “You know, there’s such a thing as an apology, Jackson. Where you say you’re sorry for something you’ve done and the other person says you’re forgiven.”

“I don’t deserve to be forgiven.”

Her gaze softened. “Then I guess this time it’s lucky for you that people don’t always get what they deserve.” She reached out, laying a hand on his arm. “I believe that you’re sorry. And I forgive you.”

He shook his head, fighting to swallow as a wave of emotion tightened his throat. “You can’t.”

“You don’t get to tell me what to do,” she said stubbornly. “That’s not the place we’re in right now. I want to forgive you, so I will. And I hope you’ll forgive me, too.”

“There’s nothing to forgive,” he said, sitting back on his heels, the knot in his throat even worse than it had been before.

“Yes, there is.” She moved closer, taking his hand in both of hers. “I played my part in the confusion you’ve been feeling for so long. I didn’t realize it, but…” Her fingers tightened around his palm. “That wasn’t Harley you were with the night you climbed through her window, Jackson. It was me.”

He glanced up but was too stunned to form a response.

“I tried to tell you,” Hannah said, anxiety creeping into her tone. “But you thought I was playing along with the game. And then, after the first time we were together when I had the chance to tell you it had all been a horrible mistake, I…I didn’t want to.”

Her gaze fell to their joined hands. “Because it wasn’t horrible. It was wonderful. And that’s why I smiled when you took the blindfold off. Because I’d been hoping to see you again for so long, even though I knew it was wrong, and that it was Harley you cared about, not me.”

“I…I can’t…” He trailed off, still not knowing what to say, only that so many things finally made sense now. Not just the bruises, but the way Harley had seemed so naturally submissive that night, almost like a different person.

It was because she
had
been a different person. She’d been Hannah. It was Hannah who had made him believe he and Harley had a future. It had been Hannah all along.

“Can you forgive me?” she asked.

“There’s nothing to forgive,” he repeated, hoping she could tell that he meant it. “I should have known the difference. If I hadn’t drunk half a bottle of scotch before I came through Harley’s window, I would have. It was my fault as much as yours.”

“Not really,” she said, her lips lifting on one side. “But thank you.”

“God, Hannah, don’t thank me.” He tried to pull his hand away, but she held tight. “I’m glad you told me the truth, but I’m not that man anymore. I couldn’t be, even if I tried.”

“I don’t believe you.” She drew his hand toward her, guiding it to rest, palm down, on her chest.

His fingers fit neatly between her bare breasts and the feel of her soft, warm flesh had the usual effect on his body. His cock didn’t care that he hated himself. His cock only cared that he could have Hannah’s breast cupped in his hand with a shift of his wrist.

But he refused to indulge the urge. Sex was no longer an option, not if he were truly sorry for the things he’d done.

“Don’t do this to yourself,” he said, his voice rough. “I’m sorry for what I did tonight and all the other nights, but I can’t promise I won’t do something like that again.” He grimaced. “Or something worse. I’m not safe for you.”

“Who said I wanted safe?” she asked, leaning closer. “I’m not a fool, Jackson. I know you’re dangerous and I’m not looking for any big promises. All I need is one thing.”

“What’s that?” Her nipples brushed against his chest, sending heat spreading through his core. He clenched his jaw, fighting to keep from reaching for her.

“Tell me that you care,” she said in her soft, sexy voice. “Even if it’s only a little. Because if you can care a little, then you can learn to care a lot. And maybe someday you’ll even learn to let yourself be happy.”

Jackson pressed his lips together, but it did nothing to stop the ache spreading through his chest. He didn’t deserve this; he didn’t deserve her, but he couldn’t hide from how much he wanted what she was offering. He was broken and twisted and wrong inside, but when Hannah touched him it felt right,
he
felt right in a way he hadn’t in so long. Not since that night in Harley’s bed when he’d unknowingly slept with the wrong sister.

“Tell me you care, Jackson,” she whispered, kissing first one corner of his mouth and then the other. “I know you do. And I know you want me as much as I want you.”

“I want you so much,” he said, his eyes sliding closed. “I want you like my next breath, but I’ll hurt you, Hannah. I know I will and I don’t want to.”

“Why don’t you want to?” she asked as she reached down, her cool fingers closing around his erection, stroking him with a gentle insistence that sent longing and grief flooding through him in equal measure.

She had him right where she wanted him. He couldn’t deny her though he knew this wouldn’t end well. It never did when Beauty fell in love with the Beast.

“Because I care about you.” His eyes opened as his fingers closed around her wrist, stopping her mid-stroke. He stared deep into her big eyes, willing her to see what a bad idea this was. “But this isn’t a fairy tale. In real life, the monster doesn’t get better. In real life, the monster drags you down to hell with him and you burn there.”

“You make me burn, that’s true.” Her lips twisted in a wry smile. “Which reminds me that I have a favor to ask, sir.”

“What’s that?” he asked, not sure whether to feel grateful or terrified that she was taking them back onto familiar ground.

Things between them would never be the same. She could call him “sir” a thousand times, but he was vulnerable now and they both knew it. They might be using the same pieces, but this was a whole other game, one he wasn’t sure he remembered how to play.

“I would like a safe word,” she said. “People like us usually have those, right?”

“They do,” he said, mesmerized by the feel of her fingertips teasing across his palm. “Though I’m not sure there are other people exactly like us.”

She shrugged one shoulder. “That doesn’t have to be a bad thing.”

He made a non-committal sound. This was all bad, but it was hard to concentrate on good and bad when she was naked in the moonlight, looking up at him like he was all she needed to get through the night. “So what’s your safe word, sunshine?”

She cocked her head. “No more princess?”

“Sunshine suits you better.”

She nodded, her lashes fluttering as she swallowed. “See? You can be sweet,” she said, pushing on before he could assure her that he was as far from sweet as a man could get. “And my safe word is cheese biscuits. I’d like to see you stay mean and growly when I’m shouting cheese biscuits in your ear.”

Against all odds, a smile stretched across his face. “Cheese biscuits? Those are the words that make you feel safe?”

“What’s safer than a fluffy biscuit, covered in melted cheese?” she asked with mock seriousness. “That’s practically the definition of safety.”

“You’re funny,” he said, warmth spreading through his chest.

“I’m not funny.” She shifted her weight as she shook her head slowly back and forth. “I’m a very serious person, and I’ve got a serious problem.”

He lifted a brow. “What’s that?”

“I think it’s best if I show you, sir.” She held his gaze as she guided his hand between her legs. As his fingers slid through the slick folds of her sex, a ragged sigh escaped his lips.

When he’d come out here, he’d been certain he would never touch her this way again. And he wouldn’t have if she weren’t the person she was, a generous, gentle, unbelievably strong woman who had looked into the darkest corners of his soul and refused to be scared away. And because she was who she was, he could be something better, at least for the night.

“You won’t need your safe word this time,” he said, pressing one finger deep into the well of her heat, relishing the way she spread her thighs, welcoming him in. “There won’t be any games tonight. It will just be you and me.”

“Should I still call you ‘sir’?” she asked, anxiety flickering across her features.

“Don’t be afraid,” he said. “I can’t make you any promises about the future, but I swear there won’t be any pain tonight.”

“But sometimes pain is easier, isn’t it?” she said, proving she understood the game far better than most people who had only just begun to play.

“It can be,” he agreed, withdrawing his fingers from her slickness and taking her by the hand. “Pain gives you a place to hide. But I can’t hide tonight. I’m not in the right headspace. So if you’d rather go to bed alone, I understand.”

“That’s the last thing I want.” She squeezed his hand. “Take me to bed, Jackson. If you’re not afraid, I’m not, either.”

Who said I’m not afraid?

He
was
afraid. So afraid. Of her, of himself, of the trust in her eyes and the affection in her touch. He would betray her trust and affection. He was certain of it, but still he held on tight to her hand as he led her through the sliding doors toward the bed.

He held tight because somewhere deep inside of himself, a voice whispered that maybe it wasn’t too late. He could never go back, but maybe there was a way forward, as long as he kept his eyes on this woman who believed that he could be something more than a monster.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Hannah

Pulse racing with a heady combination of desire and fear, Hannah stretched out on the bed, waiting with bated breath for Jackson to lie down beside her. This shouldn’t be more frightening than being spanked, punished, or locked in a cage, but it was. The look in his eyes, as he gazed down at her, was the scariest thing she’d ever seen.

He was so vulnerable, adrift and directionless, with all his carefully constructed armor falling away. He reminded her of a wounded predator, made more dangerous by the knowledge that his defenses were weakened. But he was also utterly captivating.

For the first time since she’d come into his keeping, she glimpsed the man she’d met that night in her sister’s bed, the man capable of trust and affection. He’d been wounded by betrayal and smothered by rage, but he was still there, nearly within her reach, and she didn’t want to do anything to scare him away.

As Jackson eased onto the mattress beside her, she was shocked to realize that she felt like the Dominant one tonight. The responsibility for his emotional well-being lay heavy on her shoulders, but she could handle the weight. She was stronger than she’d imagined she could be. Jackson had taught her that. He’d shown her the strength in submission and the core of steel that ran through her softness.