One Dom to Love
Page 15

With a wicked sneer, he winked. “You stupid bastard. You lost her to Liam because you were a pussy. Good luck trying to get some sleep tonight. I bet all you’ll be able to picture is Liam buried inside your little princess. I doubt you’ll be able to find a bottle deep enough to drown in.”
Hammer bucked Beck off him, then rolled to his feet, fury like a volcano inside him, primed to erupt. “You’re banned from the club for a week.”
“Again?” Beck chuckled, then stood and grabbed a bottle of Jack Daniel’s from a low table against the wall. He unscrewed the cap and tossed it to the floor, then took a long gulp and hissed through the burn. He thrust the bottle toward Hammer.
“Yeah. Again, asswipe,” Hammer snarled as he took the bottle and swallowed a healthy swig.
“A week? That’ll work. I need a break, anyway. You do know that you hit like a bitch, right?”
“Yeah, that’s why your lip is bleeding and your eye is already turning black,” Hammer snarled. “You hurt her. I can forgive a lot of things, man, but it’s going to take a while for me to get over that.”
“You really need to work out your shit when it comes to her. She’s eating you up inside because she means something to you. Admit it, or one day you’re going to wake up and you won’t even recognize the man in the mirror.”
Hammer bristled, crossing his arms over his chest. “Is that your professional diagnosis?”
“You should have fucked the princess out of your system. Been done with her already.”
“Never going to happen.”
Hammer stormed away and headed to the liquor room. He grabbed a bottle of Patrón and stalked back to his office, slamming the door behind him. He ripped off his suit coat and tie, tossing them on the bed as he walked to the bathroom. As he rinsed the blood from his knuckles, he raised his head, catching his own reflection in the mirror above the sink. Blood oozed from a cut above his brow, but what startled him most were the haunted eyes staring back.
He splashed cold water on his face, then watched crimson swirl down the drain.
Hammer turned off the faucet. As he reached for a towel, the sounds of sex filtered through the walls. It was Raine’s tender moan of passion. Liam’s familiar Irish lilt coaxed, melding with hers. Frozen like a statue, he stood listening to the sounds of their lovemaking. It gnawed at his gut.
Swallowing down the scream boiling in his chest, Hammer marched from the bathroom. Uncapping the tequila, he tipped the bottle back, guzzling it like water. Even so, the moans resounded in his head, burning their way into his brain. Beck was right—there wasn’t a bottle deep enough for him to escape this pain.
Sitting at the foot of his bed, he thought he’d put enough distance between himself and the sounds of Liam and Raine’s ardor, but her sultry cries still bled through the walls. He covered his ears—anything to drown out the reality of another man giving Raine all the pleasures he ached to grant her himself.
All four walls seemed to close in around him and sweat sprinkled his forehead. He gulped more alcohol, then hung his head. The entire day had been a fucking Greek tragedy. All because he’d taken Marlie to bed. Didn’t Raine get that he would—and had—fucked almost every other woman in the club to keep himself from taking her to bed and ruining her life? Of course not. He’d never been honest with her. Hell, it was hard to be honest with himself. But right now, the real sounds of Raine screaming Liam’s name as she shattered for the backstabbing prick was more reality than he could take.
Sweat dripped from his face and down his back. Hammer stood and stripped off his shirt and threw it to the floor. He walked from the bedroom to his adjoining office, praying the walls would provide enough of a buffer to find some goddamn silence.
He sat at his desk and wrapped his thick fingers around his coffee mug, then peered inside. Clean as a whistle. Through all the tears, bullshit, and drama, Raine had still made sure his mug was clean.
With a terrible roar, he heaved the ceramic cup across the room, and as the sound of splintering shards hit the floor, he tipped back the bottle of Patrón and guzzled. When he came up for air, he flopped down on his buttery-soft leather couch and rested the bottle on his knee. Studying the clear liquid sloshing inside, he hoped it would at least dull the brutal pain slicing through him…but he wasn’t betting on it. Fuck Beck for being right.
Beside Raine, Liam snored softly in her ear. Spooned into his chest, his arm curled around her waist, his warmth surrounded her, protected her. She closed her eyes. He made letting go so easy. That tender voice… The caress of his eyes… He might still be something of a stranger—what did she know about his past, his goals, his life—but with him, she found it unsettlingly comfortable to let her guard down and believe him. Trust him. It was exhilarating…and scary as hell.
She snuggled up to him, astounded by the turn their relationship had taken so quickly. But tonight, he’d shown that he would be there for her, just as he’d promised. That he would care for and protect her. He’d broken his long-standing friendship with Hammer to defend her when he barely knew her.
Why?
Raine didn’t know, and the question unsettled her. Liam had claimed her tonight, once publicly and gently, showing everyone his tender dominance. Then he’d brought her to his bedroom and...what? More than fucked her—and more than once. His every touch and look had been rife with some meaning.
Raine had never really had a man make love to her, but she imagined it would feel a lot like what Liam had done. Thorough. Gentle. Consuming. If he’d wanted to reach deep into her, he had succeeded. He’d ripped through her protective walls and totally exposed her soul. In the aftermath, she was finding it hard to fortify herself with those barriers again. Besides being sexy and caring, Liam had been there for her in a way very few ever had.
Why?
She didn’t know. And damn, the day had rushed over her like a flash flood, and she hadn’t found high ground fast enough to take cover.
For so long, her ever-present desire for a fierce protector had burned inside her. But so did her craving for a firm Master. Hammer had been the former for the past six years, sometimes shielding her too much. She knew he could be the latter, if he wished. But she couldn’t make him love her. Maybe he did, on some level. Maybe that would explain why he’d tried so hard to keep her from leaving Shadows when they’d fought. Maybe that was his guilt talking. Or maybe just another one of his games to control her.
It didn’t really matter anymore. Hammer had given her to Beck to punish, rather than touch her himself. And if he wanted to believe that she’d tricked Liam into caring, then screw him. She was done. She belonged to Liam now.
Raine thrust aside the memory of Hammer’s decimated face just before Liam carried her from the room. Her heart clutched. Despite everything, she was stupid enough to love him still. Sadly, some part of her probably always would.
But what about Liam? If he was everything he seemed to be, he deserved a woman who could submit her entire being to him, heart and soul.
God, she could think in this endless circle all night long.
Raine rolled over and looked at the clock. 3:30 A.M. Did Hammer know or care where she was? Did it matter to him at all?
Glass shattering suddenly splintered the night. It sounded like it had come from upstairs, in the bar. She sat up, her heart starting to beat faster. The club was closed, and all guests should be long gone. So what the hell was that sound?
She was still analyzing it in her head when something heavy clattered to the floor from the same vicinity, skittering over the stained concrete above.
She turned to Liam, hand outstretched to wake him. Shadows darkened under his eyes. He’d been through the wringer tonight. The noises upstairs were probably from a drunk member or maybe another one of the staff had just dropped something while cleaning up.
Whatever it was, she could handle it.
Raine stood and slipped Liam’s navy silk robe over her naked body. She should probably wake Hammer, too. Had he heard the ruckus?
But when Raine padded into the hall and reached his bedroom, she found it empty. She fought back surprise, then anger. Bitterness eventually won. He was probably with Marlie somewhere. Inside Marlie, pounding deep into her— No, damn it, she wasn’t going to finish that thought. She had no control over who Hammer liked or fucked. If he didn’t want her, she had to let her thoughts of him go.
She stood for a minute, trying to decide what to do. Then silence pervaded again. Whatever disturbance had been upstairs had stopped. Maybe it had been nothing…
Raine was about to turn back to Liam’s room when she noticed light spilling from Beck’s open door.
With eyes narrowed, she sauntered down the hall. After this evening, she had a few things to say to the dirtbag.
When she peered into his room, she found every light on. He chugged on a fifth of Jack Daniel’s and packed a few things into a duffel bag. As he turned with a flogger and a pair of cuffs in hand, he caught sight of her. Despite the fact that he had a black eye—where had Beck gotten that?—he had the balls to wink at her.
Raine lost it—her temper, her hold on her emotions, her will to hear his side of the story. She charged into the room, straight at him, and slapped him across the face. “You bastard!”
“Watch it, princess.” He rubbed his offended cheek, then she caught sight of another bruise there, along with a split lip. It was no less than he deserved. Thunder rolled across his face. “I’ll let you have that one. I earned it.”
Meaning…? “Did you do what Hammer asked you to do to me?”
“Nah.” He took another swig of Jack, then grimaced, absently tonguing his busted lip. “Motherfucker, that hurts.”
“So do my thighs!” she shot back. “Why did you smack me with a rubber paddle if Hammer told you not to?”
He sent her a considering stare, then a grin spread slowly across his mouth. “A couple of reasons. Hammer warned me off you years ago, but hey, I’m just a man. You’re my kind of wet dream, and I had to know if there was any chance you might be a latent pain slut so that…yeah, maybe we could live kinkily-ever-after.”
Why would he imagine that for a minute? “I think we can safely say somewhere between no and hell no. That really freaking hurt. And no warm-up?”
“Not your bag, I get it. But I wasn’t going to do you any lasting damage.”
“How do you know that, Beck?”
Dark eyes glittered as he sent her a mocking tip of his head. “If you’re never going to call me Sir, that’s Dr. Beck to you.”
Doctor…? “Surely not as in M.D.?”
He nodded, smiling as if he was really enjoying her surprise. “Dr. Kenneth Beckman, board certified vascular surgeon, at your service. I know exactly what’s happening with your veins right now, princess. Trust me. I didn’t really hurt you.”
Holy shit. Shock was an understatement. Beck the Sadist was actually Dr. Kenny, who healed people’s circulatory systems for a living? Raine blinked at him. Blinked again. She’d always known he was smart. In his late thirties, she supposed he was old enough to have achieved that level of education and experience. But hearing that the Jack-swigging, leather-clad sadist swaggering through these halls and melting the panties of every pain slut had a medical degree and practice just didn’t compute for her.
“Keep a lid on this, will you, princess? Don’t want the vanillas freaking out that their doctor enjoys inflicting pain. Hammer knows, too, in case you’re wondering. But he’s one of the few. He picked me to administer your punishment because he knew I’d scare the hell out of you and because if anything went wrong, there was a doctor in the house.”
So Hammer had been looking out for her…in his way. And she hadn’t trusted that he’d been looking past his anger enough to care for her. He always had, and her lack of trust now shamed her a bit.
“Thanks.” She lost her starch. “I needed to hear that.”
Beck shrugged a pair of massive shoulders. “You also need to hear why I threatened to hit you again.”
“You’re a sadist. Duh!”
That made him laugh outright. “Besides that. After the first blow, I knew you were never going to come over to my dark side. But I wanted to do a little test.”
Fury needled her. “To see how much of your shit I could take?”
“Low opinion of me much?” he drawled. “No, Hammer’s told me a little bit about your background. Remember when he took you to a rash of doctors shortly after you arrived?”
Yes. Lord, there had been a dozen. An internist, a dentist, a gynecologist, a plastic surgeon to repair some scarring her father had left behind. Even a shrink. Now that she thought about it, Beck had been lurking in the background a lot then. “You referred them?”
“Every one. From that, I know you’re not like the others. The pain sluts I see…” He shrugged. “Most haven’t had to endure what you have. They come to me for the release pain gives them. But yours was non-consensual. I’ve guessed that pain isn’t going to free you, just make you determined not to cow down to anyone again.”