Merrick
To say he was displeased with Linnie was an understatement.
Not only was she openly discussing aspects of the club in front of a woman who hadn’t signed any of the waivers, disclaimers, or non-disclosure agreements, she was hurting Tamsyn needlessly by projecting a future—or lack of one—where it didn’t belong, forcing him to make a stand where he didn’t want to set his feet.
This wasn’t the time or place to knock Tamsyn back.
Honestly, it was unfair for her to deal with it when she was drifting between drugged sleep and consciousness, floating on pain medication. He didn’t know how much of the full conversation she’d heard, but she’d definitely caught the tail end of it.
There was no mistaking those tears, glistening over and amplifying the power of her tawny eyes.
When they closed, her misery sliding away into sleep, Merrick bided his time. He waited through the tense silence permeating the bedroom as Linnie systematically shut down the IV and began removing it. “There, done. She’s all yours.”
Because he was a gentleman—well, not so much, but he occasionally liked to believe he owned certain gentlemanly behavior—he rose and carried the IV stand for her, shutting the bedroom door behind him as he followed her into the hallway.
“Appreciate you fixing her up, Linnie.” Each word was measured, his tone even and polite. “Appreciate it more if you don’t come back.”
“I—what?”
“Exactly what I said. You’re one hell of a doctor and a good woman, but the lines you crossed in there were unnecessary.” Dominance throbbed in his voice as it deepened. “Tamsyn was awake and aware, Linnie. Not only were you talking about submissives in front of her, you razed her world to shreds without a second thought.”
“She was sedated,” Linnie pointed out.
“She was listening,” he corrected. “Maybe she’ll remember what she heard, maybe she won’t, but I’m pretty damn sure she’s gonna remember me rejecting her. Putting me in an untenable position is unacceptable; doing the same to her is cruelty. She ain’t got much to hold on to right now, and you just took the last scraps away from her when you didn’t need to do so.”
She opened her mouth; he raised a finger.
“Becoming involved with her romantically or sexually was never gonna be viable for me. Friendship was beneficial for her . Instead, you brought the impossible to the forefront, offered it first as an option, then squashed it.” His brows lowered until he imagined he resembled an angry ogre. “I don’t like hurting anyone, Linnie. I especially don’t like causing an innocent girl pain because you fucked up and opened a can of worms that wasn’t relevant at this point in time.”
“She’ll need medical attention at some point.”
“She will,” he agreed easily, shrugging his shoulders. “If she asks to see you, I won’t stop her. Won’t influence her for or against it.”
Linnie blinked, disbelief written all over her face. “What the hell are you going to do when she needs a fucking doctor, Merrick?”
“I’ll work something out with Elias, get permission to bring someone in from the city, or take her in. I don’t want to turn this into a battle where we fall out, Linnie, but you were right. There are consequences for what we do, and this is one of them.”
“I… This is… What the fuck , Merrick?”
“I’m putting the girl first, as requested.”
He saw the moment she switched from shock to temper. It lit up her eyes, twisting her mouth. She snatched the IV stand from his hand, adjusted her grip on her bag, and snapped her shoulders straight.
“Good fucking luck to you,” she hissed, storming down the hall toward the door. “She’s going to be more trouble than she’s worth, mark my words.”
He didn’t flinch when she slammed the front door shut behind her, nor did he let her words get under his skin. Trouble wasn’t something he walked away from; he thought of it as a challenge, more of a problem-solving exercise than a wrench in the cogs.
If Tamsyn ended up being trouble, it was only because Linnie stuck her damn nose into a situation that didn’t exist and forced it into existence.
So, now he needed to be on his guard and head that trouble off at the pass.
Damn Linnie.
Grumbling under his breath, Merrick turned his back on the door still shuddering on its hinges and headed for the kitchen. He needed to think, and he thought best with something in his hand. Coffee would hit the spot while he tried to sort this mess into a logical order.
He supposed a plan of action would come in handy for when Tamsyn was lucid again.
But what was the right plan?
Flipping on the coffeemaker, he paced around the kitchen table with slow, measured steps. Formulating a plan meant having some idea of what he had to work with, and the truth was, he didn’t know. Wouldn’t know until she woke and gave him some indication of where her head was at after Linnie’s interference.
Two moods were most probable, he decided. She could wake up sad and melancholy about the situation, or as a realist, understanding what was said hadn’t been intended to hurt her. He didn’t get the feeling she was the type to get angry, but then, he hadn’t gotten virgin vibes from her either.
He scrubbed his face with his hand.
A fucking virgin. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d met a woman who wasn’t sexually experienced, not in this lifestyle. Hell, it seemed like teenagers were having sex younger and younger these days—his brother’s daughter almost brought the family to its knees when she fell pregnant at fourteen.
Tamsyn wasn’t fourteen. If she wasn’t of legal age to drink, gamble, and marry, he’d be genuinely surprised. It was hard to gauge her age when that pretty face was so thin and exhausted, but he’d guess mid-twenties, maybe slightly younger.
Regardless, he admonished himself firmly, it didn’t matter. He wasn’t in the market for a sub, let alone a relationship, and even if he was, a virgin was completely out of the question.
He loved the artistry of a mindfuck, the skill involved in breaking a submissive down to her bare bones and rebuilding her into a goddess writhing under the toys at his disposal. He thrived on coaxing a woman’s submission from her, teasing it until it was all his to strengthen her.
He fucking revered, well, fucking.
As a virile man in his prime—barely forty, contrary to popular belief and the color of his hair—sex was a number of things. A chance to blow off steam, to purge the imbalance of reality and dreams, to hone skills he’d learned at sixteen, and of course, to have fun.
In his late teens, he’d been an absolute dog, sniffing around any girl who’d take a second glance at him. By his early twenties, he’d been fucking women twice his age once they learned what he was packing in his pants, and a few years later, one of those cougars introduced him to BDSM and all the beautiful secrets it possessed.
At thirty, he reached a calmer milestone in his sexual career. Kink tamed his promiscuous ways without hindering his imagination, and he fell in love seriously for the first time after meeting Helena in a diner in Kentucky, of all places.
He’d adored her, loved her with all the passion an unclaimed heart gathered before it suffered its first heartbreak, for eighteen months of raw, unbridled lovemaking before he proposed.
Merrick’s lips curved in a bittersweet smile. He remembered Helena fondly, even though she’d done the right thing for them both at the time and turned him down flat before he could even say the M word in that traditional sentence.
She’d told him he wasn’t mature enough yet to get on one knee, to wear a ring symbolizing fidelity and lifelong dedication when she sensed he had more oats to sow.
Helena had smiled sadly, cupped his then-bare cheek, and asked him to find her when he was truly ready for their lives to be one. As though he hadn’t been ready then, as if he hadn’t known his own goddamn mind at almost thirty-two years old, for fuck’s sake.
Scowling darkly, Merrick crossed over to the coffeemaker to grab his drink when it pinged softly.
Because he’d loved her, he’d done as she asked.
He’d waited an entire year, pining for her, planning their future.
A year to the day of his original proposal, he’d tracked her down to finally set the rest of his life on the perfect track, and found her shacked up with a racehorse trainer whose list of winners was comprised of one name. She’d been heavily pregnant, a dull gold ring already on her wedding finger, and a shell of the woman who’d haunted his dreams for three-hundred-and-fifty-two days.
How foolish he’d been back then, just eight years ago.
How completely bewitched by her.
Ready to take the bull by the horns, pack up her and the unborn child sired by another man, and get her as far away from the bluegrass state as he could.
Until he realized she was there of her own volition, drawn in by the temptation of Derby money and the love of the horses—not the beasts themselves, but the gambling. After eighteen months with Merrick, it had taken her less than a month to get into bed with her new husband, chasing winning posts and winner’s circles where there were none to be found.
Merrick sipped his coffee tentatively, savoring the burn along with the caffeine.
Ironic, really, that it was that moment when he truly matured and became the man he was now. Stricter, more controlled, more… conservative when choosing partners for sex. Selecting the right submissive, even for a night, was imperative to keeping his heart from making another disastrous mistake.
Yes, he set out rigorous specifications for any sub who wanted him for more than just a scene where he sent them flying and reeled them back to earth. Unfair specifications, he supposed, but then he wasn’t exactly fair in the cock department.
Pain was sexy when tempered in the right doses with pleasure, or to a masochist who knew and understood her own limitations.
The only exception of late had been Liam and Wyatt’s now-fiancée, Sierra, who definitely wasn’t on Merrick’s approved list. She’d been half-blissed out on orgasms when he pushed into her tight little pussy and still, the memory of her body resisting him inspired his cock to salute her whenever he recalled that night.
But Tamsyn… she was too small, too delicate, utterly fragile, and she wore her heart in her eyes. Worse than all that combined, she pulled at his, sneaking little fingers around the hardened shell to find cracks in the onyx.
Rubbing the bridge of his nose, he shook his head.
Linnie was right. It was safer for all involved for his little owl to spread her wings and take shelter in a different tree, but he discovered his reluctance to send her away ran deeper than just breaking a promise.
Mornings were brighter now he woke to a purpose. The last couple mornings, he’d hummed his way through a shower and making breakfast. He was getting used to the flare of terror in her eyes when he roused her before she recognized him, her smile a sleepy hello. Their one-sided conversations were some of the most meaningful he’d ever had despite her lack of vocal input.
More than once a day, he caught himself standing in the bedroom door, checking on her. Sometimes she was fast asleep, her hand or the stuffed owl under her cheek. Others, her stunning eyes were locked on the TV, swirling with a mixture of fascination, wariness, suspicion. She became so engrossed in what she watched, it was easy to see when she lost all perception of the reality around her and tumbled beyond the screen.
She was adorable when she tried to regain her independence—three times he’d caught her trying to sneak to the bathroom; once she almost made it to the end of the bed before her legs gave out on her. He didn’t doubt her attempts would increase significantly without the IV stand anchoring her down.
She hated needing his assistance for the simple things—toilet duties in particular—although her silent protests faded at bath time. When her bruised body slipped into the water and the pain eased, he felt everything inside her relax.
Friday night, he was scheduled to return to work. Fordham was covering Merrick’s shifts during this unusual absence, but they were both earning their own reputations in the club, and some of the members weren’t satisfied with his temporary replacement.
Tamsyn was a grown woman, he reminded himself. She’d survived out in the Denver wilderness on her own for god knew how long, in freezing temperatures; she’d manage a few hours in a warm bed with the screen for company.
Still, it was a concern.
Amused at himself, Merrick sipped his coffee and wondered when the little owl sank her dainty talons into him without his knowledge. The Master who cared for the subs he played with but encouraged nothing deeper than the intimacy of a scene was suddenly aware of the substantial connection he’d unknowingly forged with a traumatized waif and stray.
Linnie was right, he realized.
He was playing with fire.
The brightest, prettiest, most fascinating little flame was growing, spreading, twining around him and burning him in subtle ways he couldn’t feel, yet he couldn’t stop craving her light. Tamsyn was igniting something in him he hadn’t felt for years, something he missed.
The quandary still remained, however, that she wasn’t his.
Couldn’t be his.
That burn, he did feel. Deeply.
*
Things changed considerably after Linnie’s visit.
Obviously, Tamsyn remembered what had been said and taken it to heart; for two whole days, she couldn’t look at him. The brief glimpses he caught of her eyes showed him the spark was gone, buried beneath a layer of emotion he couldn’t decipher.
She wasn’t angry; Merrick would’ve preferred the snap and sizzle of her temper to the dull, desolate vibes he felt when he stepped into the room. It was an odd feeling, like sinking up to his neck in grief and being suffocated by heavy, immobilizing depression.
When she refused to eat yet again, he decided they needed to talk.
Setting the tray with the untouched chicken breast and vegetables aside, he regarded her carefully. “We hurt you, didn’t we?”
Gaze fixed fully on the screen, she didn’t respond. Still, he didn’t miss the quick quiver of her bottom lip, or the twitch of her eyebrows. Her mouth drooped further, portraying her misery clearly.
“We need to air this, little owl.”
A tiny headshake gave her away.
Sighing heavily, he reached over and snagged the remote, turning the screen off and retracting it into the footboard. “Two days is too long not to eat, Tamsyn. Don’t think I won’t hook you back up to the IV or stick your food in a blender and force feed you. Even if you’re not hungry, you need to keep your system going.”
She tried to snatch the remote back, then gave up when he simply tossed it across the room. Grabbing her owl instead, she hugged it to her chest and closed her eyes.
“All right. I think being here with me is doing more harm than good,” Merrick murmured. “My presence obviously isn’t helping at a time when you need help to get back on your feet. I’ll call Evander and see if the offer of the room in the clubhouse is still available. Maybe distancing myself is the answer.”
Christ, the noise she made was like a wounded animal.
Now she met his eyes. Head shooting up like a doe hearing a twig snap in the forest, her eyes were huge and round, brimming with conflicting emotions and glimmering with tears. Those downcast lips were trembling, and that was his undoing.
“Fuck, darlin’, don’t do that. I’m trying to do what’s best for you.”
If her trembling mouth was his undoing, the choked hitch of her breath killed him.
Before Merrick realized what he was doing, his arms reached out wide. “Come on, little owl.”
She shoved the covers away, revealing the shirt— his shirt — that hung off one fragile shoulder, it was so big on her. Launching herself at him, she collided against his chest, burrowing her face against his neck. Warm breath gusted over his skin in panicked bursts.
Fuck, she was thin. As his arms curled around her gently, he swore he felt her bones rubbing together when she moved. Fragile was the perfect word to describe her current condition; she was a crystal doll, so delicate all it would take was one wrong knock to shatter her into tiny, unfixable shards.
“I’m sorry, Tamsyn.” He rubbed his short beard over the top of her head as his hands stroked her shaking back. “I’m sorry we hurt you. I’m sorry if we left you feeling bereft and rejected; you don’t deserve that. I know you don’t understand why we were arguing, but I’m sure you remember what I said, right?”
She nodded, another sob jerking her slight frame.
“That’s what hurt, isn’t it?”
His shirt was getting damp, soaking up her quiet tears.
“Thought so. I didn’t say it to upset you, Tamsyn. That’s the last thing I want. There are a lot of reasons why I couldn’t be with you if you formed an… attachment to me.” Attachment was a poor substitute for what he actually meant. “Sex isn’t the highest priority on your list, little owl. Don’t fall for the first guy who shows you affection or tries to convince you he’s the one , and for God’s sake, don’t let your heart make the decision on its own.”
Apparently his comforting technique wasn’t as honed as he believed—she just cried harder, her body shaking with disconcertingly silent sobs. Maybe he shouldn’t say anything at all for now, let her cry it out of her system. She obviously needed to purge it.
Deciding his brain was smarter than his mouth at the moment, Merrick said nothing more and just cradled her as she was, rocking from side to side in a rhythm he’d never done before. It just seemed natural, and it soothed some ragged part of him, too.
Losing track of time was easy with her. He was a man who prided himself on punctuality, control, immaculate time keeping, yet all it took was a silent ghost in his life to obliterate it all.
When her sobs finally drew to a halt and her body shook with tiny tremors instead of bone-shaking shudders, Merrick eased her away to look at her face. Fuck if she wasn’t still beautiful despite her swollen eyes and red-blotched skin. Even the tears and mucus weren’t detracting from the core appeal of her, and he really wasn’t the kind of Dom who got off on degrading a sub until she was a snotty, dilapidated mess.
Humiliation wasn’t a hard limit for him, but he did have a limit.
“Probably doesn’t feel like it now,” he murmured, sliding his thumb over her damp cheek, “but that will take a huge weight off your shoulders. Crying is an equalizer, balancing out emotions. It’s a tool, not a weakness.”
She snuffled sadly, leaning her cheek into his hand.
Damn her, she wasn’t even trying to pull his heartstrings, yet she did so perfectly.
“Are you ready to listen now?” he asked gently.
A tiny, hesitant nod.
“Good girl. Linnie and I shouldn’t have had that conversation in front of you. She believed you were sedated enough you wouldn’t retain any of it, but that isn’t the point. We were discussing something that involves you, and we both believe our opinion is the right way to protect you. The only one who can make that decision is you.”
Tamsyn grimaced slightly.
“Yeah, not an easy choice to make,” he started to say, but broke off when she jabbed a finger pointedly in his chest. The intent behind the poke made a very clear statement. “You want to stay with me.”
This time, her nod was decisive.
“We can work with that. Do you remember what I said about not being the right man for you, Tamsyn? Virginity aside,” he said when she puffed up indignantly, “I still wouldn’t be the right man. Innocence doesn’t fare well in my company, and you’re innocent down to the roots. I take pleasure from pushing limits, from rough and dirty sex. The things I do to women are consensual, but they’re… they’re not roses on the sheets and candlelight flickering on the walls.”
She cocked her head as though she didn’t understand; her eyes searched his face through the puffy slits of her eyelids.
“How old are you? Thirty?”
Her frown wasn’t as affronted as it should be if he’d guessed too wide.
“Twenty-five?”
Mouth twisting, she held up a finger.
“Twenty-six.” He nodded when she made a quiet sound of agreement. “I’m forty, little owl. That’s fourteen years between us, which might not seem like much, but when you weigh up that extra fourteen years in experience, it is. I know what I need, I know what I like, and you have to discover those pleasures for yourself. Maybe you’ll like pain, but I’m not willing to ruin you for the sake of finding out.”
She looked so forlorn, he couldn’t stand it.
“I’m going to tell you something. There is a man out there who will treasure you for who are you. Scratch that, he will dote on you, adore you, and you will be the center of his world. Don’t settle for less than that.” He added a darker, warning edge to his voice now because he wanted her to sit up and pay attention. “There will also be men, a lot of fucking men, who want you as nothing but a trophy, a notch on their bedpost. They’ll be nice, charming, but they won’t see you, darlin’—the only thing on their mind is what’s between your legs. You’re more than that, you understand me?”
That must not have occurred to her, because she gave him an incredulous look that insinuated he’d lost his mind. Maybe he had—after all, he was giving a woman fourteen years his junior a lecture on who she should and shouldn’t give her virginity to, while she sat on his lap, wearing nothing but his shirt, and his cock was wondering what it needed to sacrifice to be the one to claim her.
Not just once, not just twice, but for forever.
She took a few moments to consider what he’d said. Her thoughts ticked through her head as though they were sheets of paper, and she picked each one up, absorbed it, then set it aside to reach for the next.
Her teeth chewed pensively on her lower lip as she nodded absently.
What the hell was she thinking?
Finally, she huffed a little and wiggled to sit straighter on his lap. Of course, his cock gleefully accepted that as a sign and thickened under her ass. She tried to vocalize whatever she wanted to say, but all that came out was a series of rasping squeaks that were too cute for her safety.
Instead, she laid her hand on her heart, then moved it to press above his own.
Dread filled his stomach. “No. Tamsyn, no.”
She repeated the gesture, tapping her fingers on his chest this time.
“Did you forget the part where I’m not the right man for you?” Merrick demanded.
Some of the life flickered back into her eyes, kicking aside that awful dullness and sorrow. The smile she gave him was part-mischief, part-understanding, and a whole lot of I don’t care . Whatever she’d decided, she was content with it, even if it set his nerves on edge.
Patting his cheek gently, she squirmed off his lap and headed for the bathroom.
Of course, she only made it two steps before her knees buckled, but Merrick was already on his feet, one step behind her, and he scooped her up as she toppled toward the carpet.
“Your feelings are your own, little owl,” he told her gruffly, sweeping her toward her destination. “I’m gonna guess you haven’t had a lot of love thrown in your direction if you’ve hooked onto me after only a few days, and maybe that’s okay if you need to feel close to someone after… whatever happened. But there ain’t nothing gonna come of it, hear me? I won’t encourage or reciprocate those feelings. There sure as hell won’t be any sex.”
Tamsyn hummed in agreement, nestling her head into his shoulder. If he ignored how thin she was and the awkwardness of her cast, she actually fit against him perfectly; he appreciated a sense of balance in his life and she was the short to his tall, the slender to his bulk. Even when she put weight on, she would still settle in his arms easily.
No. No, no, fucking no.
It was all well and good warning her that he wasn’t the one she needed, that a physical connection wouldn’t be possible, but he hadn’t expected to require a stern caution himself. Unless he censored his own damn thoughts, he’d find himself in an untenable position of his own making, and she’d follow him blindly into the hell of an unsustainable dynamic.
It was time to go back to work, remove himself from prolonged periods of contact with her until he contained the errant thoughts and carnal urges to fuck her. Surely if he searched through the list of subs waiting to scene with him, he’d find one with masochistic urges strong enough to handle taking his frustration.
Failing that, maybe he could convince one of the other Doms to partake in some bareknuckle boxing in the employee gym. Some good old-fashioned flesh-on-flesh violence was almost a satisfactory substitute for down and dirty fucking.
Following their usual bathroom procedure, Merrick set her on her feet beside the toilet and waited until she was safely sitting down before retreating to stand outside the door. Once he heard her finish up and flush, he went back in to slip a supporting arm around her waist and guide her to the sink to wash her hands and freshen up after her crying jag.
But this time, he hesitated before lifting her into his arms again.
If he continued to carry her everywhere, she was never going to regain her strength. There were muscles in her legs, slim and weak, but she’d trekked through the forest to find Serenity, so there was an inner strength as well.
Offering her his arm, he encouraged her to walk, which brought an excited smile to her mouth. Her soft, pink mouth that would look amazing swollen from kisses, his kisses.
Fuck’s sake, he was a monster.
A horny, old-enough-to-know-better monster.
Tamsyn’s pace was slow and tottering, her feet shuffling carefully as she weighed each step and the stability of her joints. Her knees threatened to give way twice, making her cling precariously to his forearm, which made him feel like a fucking god.
To give credit where credit was due, she actually made it halfway back to the bed before her slow progress came to a grinding halt. Sweat glistened along her hairline, her hand trembled on his arm. Her legs didn’t buckle this time, they just collapsed from under her.
“Good effort, darlin’. We’re gonna work on building your stamina.” Merrick picked her up and finished the second half of the journey in seconds. “For now, how about I get you some juice and we start the whole dinner fiasco over again?”
She hummed softly in acquiescence.
No doubt she’d be asleep before he got dinner warmed up, he mused, laying her down. She switched off faster than a power cut when she was tired; there was no slow drooping of her chin to her chest or head bobbing as she fought the pull. She just dropped from one state of consciousness to the other in the space of a breath.
Just one of the little things he’d learned in the last few days.
That, and her snoring was adorable.
Fuck, he was in way over his head.