Crash Into You (17 page)

She sniffed and pulled her shoulders back, apparently fighting to keep her composure. “I’m fine. I just haven’t been able to give over control to anyone for a long time. You can start getting me ready. I won’t stop you.”

He nodded, even though he knew she couldn’t see him. His fingers trailed down her arm and then pressed the release on her cuffs. She rolled and stretched her wrists, while he moved his hands up to her neckline. He started unfastening her blouse, while Grant continued his questioning. “Why do you think you’ve resisted giving over control?”

Jace reached the end of the buttons and slid her shirt off her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. Goose bumps rose on her ivory skin and she shivered. He rubbed her bare arms with his palms, trying to chase the chill for her.

She wet her lips. “I don’t know.”

There was a long pause, and Jace could tell Grant was measuring her every word.

“That’s not true,” Grant said finally, his tone as smooth as silk. “You’re holding something back.”

Shit
. Jace shot a warning glance over his shoulder
.
What had happened to going easy on her? But it was too late. Grant had
that look in his eye—the one that said he’d switched into master mode.

“Tell us the real reason, Brynn.”

She began to quiver beneath Jace’s hold on her.

“I… I was raped.”

His hands stilled against her.
“What?”

She shook her head. “It was a long time ago. I really don’t want to talk about it. But that’s why I’m here. I want to get past the fear.”

Jesus.
That
was the personal reason she’d alluded to in his office? So many questions rose in his throat—who, when, and did Reid know? He’d bet his left nut Reid had no idea. Otherwise, his friend would be in jail for killing the fucker who’d hurt her. Shit. No wonder she was shaking like a frightened puppy.

Grant rose from the couch and came to stand in front of Brynn, his normally unreadable face full of concern. “Do you want me to tell my members what you’re dealing with so they can take that into account?”

She wagged her head. “No, please don’t tell anyone. I can’t even believe I told you. I just want to blend in. No special treatment. And please,” she said, her voice edging on desperate, “Master J, keep going.”

Jace bent to slip off her heels, his mind still reeling, and Grant reached out and laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. He leaned forward a bit as if he was making eye contact with her despite her blindfold. “Brynn, you’re extremely brave to come here and do this. But you need to be careful. I’m as concerned about the mental well-being of my customers as their physical safety. I don’t want you to push yourself too far. You understand?”

“Yes,” she said, her voice sounding tiny in comparison to Grant’s firm tone.

Grant continued, “If at any time you need out, a break, whatever,
you use that safe word. There is no shame in exercising that right.”

She nodded, straightening under his touch. “Thank you. But I’ve given this a lot of thought. I want to do this. I
need
this.”

“Well, then I hope we can provide you with what you’re seeking. I’m going to let Master J finish getting you ready, but if you need anything while you’re here, don’t hesitate to ask me.”

“Thank you.”

Grant stepped away and slipped out of the room, nodding at Jace as he left.

Jace eased her pants down her legs, then ran a palm along her calf to indicate she should step out of them. Once he gathered all her things from the floor, he rose and took in the view.

God, she was a gorgeous girl. Even though years had passed, she looked as sexy as she had that first night he’d seen her strip for Reid in his driveway—all curves and soft femininity, her creamy skin standing out in contrast to her black satin bra and panties. But who knew under all that softness was a woman tough enough to suffer a rape, then come to a place like this to try to heal herself. He shook his head in awe.

Whomever she ultimately decided to give her submission to was one lucky bastard.

He just hoped to God she’d choose correctly and not hand herself over to someone who could exploit her fear.

Brynn could feel Master J’s eyes on her and wondered what was going through his mind. She couldn’t believe that she’d told him and Grant about the rape. But now she was glad she had. Despite her raging anxiety, telling them the truth about why she was here—or at least part of it—had somehow managed to ease her down from a panic attack.

“I’m going to bind you now, Brynn. Just relax,” said Master J, who’d been silent most of the time she’d been in here.

She tilted her head, something about the way he’d said her name giving her pause, but then the thought flew from her mind when his fingers touched her throat.

Master J wound something around her neck. The smell of new leather filled her nose, and fingers of fear wrapped around her windpipe again. After a quick clink of metal, he tugged at the collar. “Is that too snug?”

She swallowed past the tightness in her throat. “It’s fine.”

His footfalls echoed off the floor as he moved behind her. A warm hand gathered her wrists and bent her arms behind her back into L-positions. Leather cuffs locked around them and when she tested the hold, the collar around her neck pressed against the hollow of her throat, causing her to cough.

“Easy. It’s all connected to a strip down your back. Move one thing, it moves all of it.”

Officially trapped. She bit her lip and nodded. She would… not… cry. This was just sex. Sex. It was supposed to be fun. Used to be great. None of these guys were here to rape her. There were rules and surveillance cameras. She had her safe word.

“It’s time, Brynn.”

Her stomach threatened to heave.

Master J clasped her upper arm and eased her forward on her bare feet. “I’m going to walk you into our common room. All the members interested in taking on a new sub will be there. You are to remain on your knees with your head down until someone addresses you. If someone wants to take you on, they will stand in front of your post. Only after everyone has made their selections will your blindfold come off. At that point, you’ll be able to choose who you want to be with. Understand?”

“What if I don’t want any of them?”

He sniffed. “Then you go home.”

The squeak of a door swinging open made her suck in a breath. The soft buzz of conversation washed over her as the air temperature around her warmed. They had arrived. A crowded room, and she was half-naked and bound for all to see. Her legs wobbled beneath her, and Master J’s grip tightened on her arm to keep her from falling. “Almost there.”

A few more steps and he halted her. “On your knees.”

He helped her bend, and her knees landed on a soft pallet. His hand ran along the back of her hair. “Choose wisely, doll.”

She reared up like someone had pinched her. Only one person had ever called her doll. She turned her head and opened her mouth to ask the question, but he cut her off.

“No more talking.” And with that she heard his footsteps fade.

Well, hell.

A sharp tinkling sound cut through the hum of voices—metal on a wine glass she guessed. “Members, it’s time for the initiation. For those of you participating tonight, please step forward. For those here to watch, please have a seat.”

Brynn sat back on her calves and flexed her fingers, her arms starting to tingle from the restricted position. This was it. No turning back now. She said a silent prayer that she’d get someone who would go easy on her. Heavy footfalls circulated around her, and the air shifted as people stepped into her space, bringing a mix of male scents to her nose—cologne, soap, sweat. She set her mouth in a firm line and kept her expression smooth, determined to keep her fear hidden.

A finger pressed under her chin, lifting her face to some unknown suitor. “What’s your name, beautiful?”

Her heart crashed against her ribs, her panic rising like mercury in a thermometer. She cleared her throat and tried to keep her voice even. “Brynn.”

“Have you been in a D/s relationship before?” asked another male voice.

“Once, a long time ago.”

There were a few murmurs of approval, and the first man released her chin. Then a third voice, deep and melodic, chimed in. “Did you love the guy or was it a casual relationship?”

She wrinkled her forehead, confused by the question. “Does it matter?”

“Answer the question, sub.”

She clenched her jaw. “I loved him.”

“But you think you can keep it casual now?” asked the first man.

She nodded. “I know I can.”

The men asked a few more questions, then the sound of the clinking glass hushed everyone again. “Time to choose.”

Brynn’s head swam and sweat beaded her skin. She dug her nails into her palms and started counting backward from one hundred in her head, a habit she had picked up as a child when she’d wake up from nightmares in an empty house.

Ninety-nine.

Feet shuffled around her.

Ninety-eight.

The strong smell of cigar smoke filled her head as someone else neared.

Ninety-seven.

What if she couldn’t handle it? What if she was repulsed by all her choices? Tears gathered beneath her lids.

Ninety-six.

She tightened her fists and focused on the image of her sister when she was little—blond pigtails and wide, trusting eyes—before she and Kelsey had been tainted by the world around them. Brynn tilted her chin up.

Ninety-five.

It didn’t matter who was standing in front of her. She would
do what she needed to do. She was tired of living with this crippling fear. And on top of that, her sister needed her. If she fainted like one of the damn goats, then so be it. A hand touched the back of her head and yanked at the knot on her blindfold.

Ninety-four.

The wisp of silk fluttered to the floor, and Brynn blinked as her eyes adjusted to the low lighting of the room. Three sets of shoes came into vision.

“Lift your head, Brynn, and choose your master.”

Brynn raised her eyes and stared into the familiar blues of Reid Jamison.

then

Brynn yawned as she lifted the stack of files and set them on her desk. She hadn’t gotten a lick of sleep the rest of the weekend. Every time she’d laid her head down, images of her night with Reid had flooded her senses. How could the guy walk away from something like that? Why couldn’t he just accept that he’d enjoyed it? Yes, it was a little… alternative. But so what? Didn’t people always say that the college years were the experimental ones?

She glanced over at Reid’s work area. He had his head turned toward his computer screen and was typing away. He’d barely looked in her direction all day. She plopped into her chair with a huff. What an asshole. Even if he didn’t want to pursue anything with her, it was shitty to ignore her after he’d slept with her.

She picked up the date stamp and started stamping each file with a little more vigor than necessary. The silent treatment was going to drive her mad. He should at least have the balls to face her and not cower behind his computer all day.
Men.
She finished
the files and moved them to the side of her desk, then spun in her chair to grab the other stack off the floor.

“You stamp those things any harder, you’re going to rip through the paper. I can hear you pounding away at them from across the room.”

Brynn jumped at the interruption and swung around to face Reid. She slammed the new pile of folders on her desk with a heavy
thunk
. “So sorry, did I break your concentration?”

He leaned down, palms splayed on the top of her desk. “Am I sensing some hostility here, sugar?”

“Boy, you’re bright.”

He gave her a half-smile. “I’m sorry I sent you away. I needed to get my head straight.”

“I don’t think it worked. It’s apparently still stuck up your ass.”

He sighed. “I guess I deserved that.”

She glared at him and went back to stamping. Flip page. Stamp. Flip page. Stamp.

He grabbed her wrist, stilling her hand. “Don’t shut me out, Brynn.”

“Interesting request, considering you’re the one who can’t seem to bear a glance my way today.”

He dropped her arm and scrubbed a hand over his face. “It hurts to look at you.”

She smirked. “Gee, you really know how to flatter a girl.”

“Come on, Brynn. You know that’s not what I mean. It’s just every time I see you, I’m reminded of how I treated you this weekend, how I lost control.”

She shut the file folder and met his gaze. “Seems like you were pretty in control to me.”

His closed his eyes, and she noticed the deep bags beneath them for the first time. “I’m so sorry. I know I probably made you feel like shit.”

She blew out a breath, his remorse taking the wind out of her
tirade, and touched his arm. “Hey, stop making assumptions. Yes, you pissed me off sending me home without even walking me out. But you know what I felt before that?”

He looked up, his expression wary. “What?”