Chapter 40

Tara

After a long soak with bath salts in Ryker's tub, we got dressed and drove back to the club. We were silent the whole ride here. I'm too exhausted to speak, and I think he's too wrapped up in his mind to make words come out of his face.

There's a noticeable difference in his body language as we pull up to the parking lot behind the Monarch. He's tense again. You'd think after the session we just had, some of the volatile aggression he carries all the time would have been fucked right out of his system. Clearly, that's not the case. A little insecure voice whispers in my ear that maybe I wasn't good enough for him. It makes my stomach drop.

Stop it, Tara. No way am I letting my past burdens taint what we've done today.

Turning the engine off, Ryker growls, "Don't move. I'll come around and help you out."

"Okay." He wouldn't let me do anything for myself after we fucked at his house, either. I couldn't brush my hair. I couldn't dry myself off. I couldn't get myself dressed. He took care of everything for me.

The aggressive sex followed by soft attention is a complicated combo.

I've fucked rough before. It's never turned out like this. I'm both precious and powerful and it's lovely.

Ryker quickly walks around the car, fixing his tie just before making it to my side. His hand is warm in mine when he helps me out. The two wobbly noodles I have for legs collapse immediately.

"I've got you," he says, scooping me into his arms before my knees hit the concrete. He had to carry me to his car when we left his house, too. Why I thought my body would bounce back faster is beyond me.

He stares straight ahead, his jaw clenching, and stuffs his face into the camera attached to the back door. A few seconds later, Dmitri opens it, his icy eyes wide with alarm. "Jesus, Ry."

Ryker doesn't say a word as he slips past Dmitri, through the kitchen, and into the main area of the club. It's ten o'clock at night and the Monarch is in full swing. Dim lights illuminate our path, setting the mood for all the action happening everywhere. It might be my imagination, but I think Ryker's taking the long way back to our suite. Unrushed, he walks us through most of the common areas and down the hall that leads to the elevators. Everyone's looking at us.

Wrapping my arms around his neck, I nuzzle against him and make eye contact with every motherfucking woman we pass. I'd bet ten grand Ryker's doing the same with all the men. Members move out of our way, respectfully.

Others gawk.

Only one jars me, and that's Blake Rittenhouse. He's got this tight smile on his stupid face, and I match it as we pass by. He can look, stare, lust after, and fantasize all he wants, but he'll never have me. We both know it.

Since I'm feeling extra spicy tonight, I flip him the bird as I kiss the side of Ryker's jaw.

Blake's eyes flash with anger and he pretends to go back to whatever conversation he's having with his partner for the night.

Ryker carries me to the Butterfly suite, where Sophie waits at our door. She opens it and whispers casually that she'll have food and drinks brought up.

"Thanks, Soph." That's all Ryker says before kicking the door closed.

"I think you can put me down now."

He clenches his molars again. "Not yet."

I'm not sure if this is still part of his Dom drop, or if he's just become a territorial caveman. Either way, I don't argue. He places me gingerly on the bed with a sigh. "Let me see you again, Butterfly." When I give him a confused look, he adds, "I want to make sure all the marks are gone and you're okay."

I kind of hope a few of them stay. "I'm fine."

"Let me see." He's not going to take no for an answer. Lifting my dress, I spread my legs a little, and my cheeks blaze with embarrassment. I don't feel sexy like this. Not with how concerned Ryker looks. "Lay back for me."

My head hits the pillows and I stare at the ceiling. "I feel like I'm at a gynecologist"s office."

He doesn't laugh when he peels my underwear off me. The gentle probe of his finger on my pussy makes me suck in a harsh breath. "Does that hurt?"

"Not really. It's just a little sore."

"There are no abrasions from the clamps," he says, more to himself, I think. He already checked me earlier. Why is he doing it again? "How's your backside?"

"Sore, but also fine."

"Let me see."

"No." Shoving my dress down, I close my legs and look away. "Why are you acting like this?"

"Tara." Ryker sits on the edge of the bed with my panties in his fist. "You're still bleeding."

It's probably normal given how hard we went at it, and for how long. Ryker's dick is fat and long. A little blood should be standard. "I'm sure it's nothing."

"I can't stand the possibility that I hurt you."

"You didn't do anything I didn't want, Ryker." To make my point clear, I scoot to the edge of the bed and stand. "See? I'm good to go." Except walking takes extra effort. By the time I make it to the bathroom doorway, a sheen of sweat covers my chest and forehead.

I was so hyper focused on making it to the finish line, I didn't hear Ryker come up behind me.

"My brave, beautiful girl." His arms band around my waist and he kisses the side of my neck.

Heat pools in my lower region. "The pain's delicious," I admit. "I can see the draw to floggers and clamps now." I'm not sure if I could handle harder, harsher toys, but down the road, I'd be willing to try. "Later, I'd like to experiment more to see where my limit is with them."

"Not tonight," he warns, his mouth pressed to my neck.

"No." I feel all mushy and soft when he kisses me like this. "Not… fuck, not tonight."

"That's my good girl." He palms my tits.

"Ryker?" I lean against him while he runs his hands all over me.

"Yes, Butterfly?"

"I want you again."

He freezes. "It's too soon, baby."

His rejection stings. "I think I know my body well enough to say what I can and cannot handle."

"As your Dom, I will override your wishes if I think it's necessary. I just put you through it, Tara. Your body needs time to heal."

"My ass does, but not the rest of me." I think he's created a monster. Between his possessiveness while carrying me, his sensitivity while taking care of me, and his confidence to march through the club with me curled in his arms like he owns me… I'm turned-on big time. "I want more."

"So needy," he whispers. "Can we at least eat first?"

Bracing my hands on the doorjamb, he kisses along my shoulder blades and down my back. God, his mouth is phenomenal. "I'm not hungry."

"Well, I am." He bites my ass cheek. It makes me yip.

Someone knocks on the door.

Ryker presses his forehead on the small of my back and sighs. "Don't you dare fucking move."

"Yes, Sir."

He rushes over and opens the door, whispering something quietly to the person on the other side. Then I hear the door shut and lock. Plates and glasses clank on a tray, which he places on the table by the couch, I think. I keep my eyes forward, staring into the dark bathroom, and hold on to the doorjamb so I can stay upright while I wait for his return.

His body heat warms my back again. "Now…" Ryker wraps his arms around me. "Where were we?"

"You were just about to fuck me."

He spanks my ass. "Nice try." Lifting me over his shoulders, we cross the room, and he drops me back on the bed. "But I said food first."

"Does that mean after I eat you'll give me your dick again?"

"We'll see." He retrieves the tray and uncovers the first dish. It's two grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup. Ryker shakes his head, chuckling. "This guy."

Pulling one of the melty sandwiches apart, I hand half to Ryker. "You talking about Dmitri?"

"Yeah." He chomps down on his half, and I swear even the way he chews is sexy. "This is my ultimate comfort food."

And Dmitri knew he needed it tonight. "You have an amazing best friend."

Ryker nods and takes another bite. Wiping his mouth with one of the two napkins rolled up on the tray, he says, "Cheap bread, cheap cheese, and butter. It doesn't get much better than this."

"Oh, I don't know about that." Slipping out of my sundress, I rip off little pieces of my sandwich and place them along my belly. "This might make it taste better."

He arches his brow. With a little smirk, he pushes the tray of food aside and eats each piece, bite after buttery bite, off my body. "Fucking delicious."

I'm half tempted to pour the hot soup on me just to watch him lick it off.

"Don't even think about it, Tara." He shakes his head slowly. "That soup will scald you and I'll be a mess about it."

"It might feel nice," I push. "A little burn never hurt nobody."

"I think if you got a paper cut, I'd go apeshit." Sliding the tray over, he taps the last covered item. "Any guesses what this might be?"

Well, if these are Ryker's ultimate comfort foods, I'm going to guess, "Cookies."

He grins. "Try again."

"Hot fudge sundae?"

He laughs. "Nope."

"I give up. What is it?"

Ryker lifts the lid, revealing two chocolate pudding cups.

"You're kidding." I snag one and rip the lid off. "I haven't had one of these in forever." Licking the lid brings me back to my childhood…

"Dinner's ready!" I set the glass bowl down on the kitchen table.

Mom comes in, her freshly dyed hair still wet from the rinse. "Ohhh nice." She snags two spoons from the drying rack and hands one to me. We clink our utensils and dig into the vat of chocolate pudding I've had chilling in the fridge since noon.

"Chocolate pudding is top tier deliciousness." I lick the back of my spoon before scooping another mound and shoving it in my face.

Mom giggles. "You're going to turn into pudding one day."

"I'm sure it's already running through my veins." I shove another spoonful into my mouth. "Want to watch another movie tonight?" We've been on an action movie binge for the past month. It's been perfect. Just the two of us eating our weight in junk food, wrapped up in a million blankets on the couch until midnight. "We can start the Avengers."

"Not tonight, honey. I have plans." She doesn't look at me when she says this.

Which means I know what her plans are.

Mom's on the prowl again. Jesus, why does she always have to go looking for a rich guy? It never works out. My mom's been married twice already, and both ended in divorces that left us with exactly what we started with. Each other and nothing else.

I wish she'd be happy with only me in her life. But she wants more. She's not looking for love, she's looking for gold. Sometimes I wonder if my mom knows how to love anyone but herself.

"Who is he?" The pudding tastes sour in my mouth now.

"His name's William Brisbane. I met him at a networking conference downtown."

She means she served him coffee at the hotel she works at.

"What's he like?"

"Smart, confident, big brown eyes, and a fat wallet." She waggles her eyebrows at me. "He has a son about your age, too."

She's already done some research. Great.

"He's taking me to that five-star restaurant off Lambert Ave at eight."

"Nice." I have no clue what restaurant she's talking about. Staring at the table, I tap my fingers on my thigh while silence spreads in the kitchen. I finally snap. "Why do you always do this?" I didn't mean to ask it out loud. Last time I did, she slapped me and called me ungrateful. "I'm sorry, I—"

"Look around us, Tara." Mom stabs her spoon into the bowl of pudding and crosses her arms. "Do you like what you see?"

Yes. I do. Our apartment is perfect for the two of us. I have friends on the first floor and down the street. I don't have to take the bus to school because it's close enough to walk. I'm happy here, and if she fucks around, it'll end badly—because it always ends badly—and then she'll want to pack up and move again.

Two things are concrete with my mother: Her beauty is a weapon, and she's forever on a treasure hunt.

Nothing's good enough for her, including me.

"Yes, mom. I love it here."

"Well, I hate it. We can do so much better than this, Tara."

Says who? "Agree to disagree."

Her cheeks blaze with her temper. "We're in a tiny apartment that my shit paycheck barely covers the rent on!"

That's because she spends most of her money on high-end clothes, so people will notice and "respect" her. She pays the bare minimum for our life. Rebecca Reed invests in only herself.

"Look at us, Tara. We're having pudding for dinner!" Mom shoves the bowl off the table and it crashes onto the floor in a colossal mess. "How much lower can we sink?"

Fury bubbles out of me. I hate you. Tears burn in my eyes because I can't believe I thought she was going to be different this time. "Money isn't everything, Mom."

"You are so fucking stupid." She shoves a finger in my face, and I see they're freshly painted red. "One day you'll understand that if you don't have money, you don't have shit."

"You don't need a rich husband to have money." I toss my hands up. "Work your way up at the hotel. Take some classes and learn a new trade."

She laughs, cold, harsh, and ugly. "Jesus, Tara. You think it's that simple? I don't even have a GED. I'm lucky to have a job at the hotel as it is. No one wants to hire a woman whose background is scrubbing dishes, stocking shelves, and flipping burgers." The veins in her temples pop out. "I'd have made something for myself if it hadn't been for you, but that ship sailed when I was sixteen."

The walls close in on me. "I didn't ask to be born."

"No, you didn't. And I loved you enough to have you, anyway."

Should I be grateful? "But you don't love me enough to just be happy with me."

Why am I not good enough? I get straight As, I'm in all the gifted classes, I have a part-time job and help with the bills, I never get in trouble, and I'm home by curfew, always. I don't even like action movies, but I watch them all the time for her because they're her favorite.

"Baby," her voice softens, the anger quickly fizzling out fast, just like it always does. Reaching across the table, Mom grabs my hand. "Of course, I'm happy with you. But I'm lonely. I want someone to share a life with. To make memories with." She tips her head and offers a little smile. "Maybe have another baby, too. Wouldn't you like having a sibling?"

Hell no.

"I'm sorry I snapped at you," she says, wiggling my hand playfully. "I'm just really nervous about my date with William tonight."

"Why?" my voice cracks. "It's just a date."

"No baby, this is the first night of our new future together." She stands up and kisses my forehead. "And when you meet him, I want you to be extra sweet to him, okay? I want him to love you as much as I do."

What she means is, "Don't fuck it up like you have all my other relationships."

Swallowing my pride, I force a smile onto my face. "I will, Mom. I'll be perfect."

"Annnd she married William a month later," I say.

"Jeez." Ryker's leaning on his side, his tatted hand propping his head up. "That's wild."

"I've spent my entire childhood moving around, shaping myself to be whatever my mom wanted, so her boyfriend, fiancé, husband, or whatever would love me. And when things would go belly up, she'd blame it on me."

"Fuck, Tara. I'm so sorry." He runs his hand over my leg. "And now she's married a real asshole."

"She doesn't care as long as she gets her own black card." I lean back on the pillow. "And she's already moving on. I saw her fucking that guy Travis in the Mercedes when we left."

Ryker's nonresponse means he saw it too and just wasn't going to mention it.

We've laid in bed, talking, touching and petting each other for a while now. It's nice. "What time is it?"

"Going on midnight, I think."

My yawn's so big my jaw pops. "Man."

"Get some rest, Tara." Ryker kisses my forehead.

I keep my eyes open long enough to watch him get up and turn the lights out around the room. "Are you going to leave?"

He pauses by the bedside table. "Is that what you want?"

"No." I bury my face in the pillow and close my eyes. "I still want you to fuck me."

The mattress dips and the heat rolling off him feels good. "Sleep," he orders, lying next to me. "And let me just hold you for now, Butterfly."

I drift off, hoping if he won't fuck me while I'm awake and begging for it, then he'll fuck me when I'm asleep so I can wake up with him already inside me.