Maya Banks - Sweet Surrender

“Faith, what you think you want…” He began as gently as he could. “I think you’re kidding yourself.”

Her cheeks stained red, and he could tell he angered her.

“Don’t patronize me,” she said. “Don’t tell me what it is I want or don’t want.”

He held up his hand. “Let me finish. Let me see if I have this right. You want to submit to a man. You want a man to dominate you. That’s what the trip to The House was all about and your allowing a complete stranger to spank your ass. In public.”

She blushed and looked away.

“Faith, look at me.”

She turned her gaze back to him.

“Am I right? You want to give up control to a man?”

Slowly she nodded.

“But that’s not what you’re doing,” he pointed out.

Her brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“As much as you say you want a man’s control, you cling to every vestige of control yourself.” He gestured down her body at her tied arms and legs. “You’ve set the scene just as you imagined. You’ve scripted the role, my role, and decided how everything plays out. You’ve got every detail worked out in your mind. You’re in complete control. No one else. I’m merely a puppet dangling on a string waiting on you to command me to command you and for you to tell me how to command you.”

Her mouth fell open in shock. Her pupils widened.

“I don’t work that way, Faith,” he said softly. “I told you what I wanted. A woman who’d be content to let me call the shots. Nothing about this scenario is me doing anything but allowing you to dictate how it is we get together.”

He reached down and untied her legs. Then he freed her hands. He pushed himself off the bed and looked down at her. “I’m going to take a shower. It’s been a long day.”

Faith watched him go, her entire world turned on its axis. Slowly, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and got up to collect her clothes. Not bothering with her bra or panties, she pulled on her jeans and shirt then sat back on the bed in stunned silence.

Her body ached from the constant state of arousal, first instigated by Micah and carried one step further by Gray. But she hadn’t found completion. But Gray’s words had definitely brought her down from her impending orgasm.

How could she not have seen it before? He was exactly right. She craved a man’s dominance. Wanted a man to take care of her, but she scripted every aspect of his performance. She had a detailed idea of how she wanted everything to go. Hell, if she had her preference, she’d provide him with a list of every single thing she wanted him to do to her.

She dropped her face into her hands. Oh God, what a moron she was. She hadn’t wanted a dominant man. Just the opposite. She’d been trolling for a mindless puppet.

But that wasn’t really what she wanted, was it? No, definitely not. Actually what she wanted was a man who didn’t have to be coached. Someone who could reach inside her and pull out her fantasies, her needs and provide for her. Emotionally and physically.

And even when searching for a mindless puppet, she’d been a dismal failure. She’d spent more time hinting around than she had coming right out and saying what it was she wanted. Was it any wonder she was a walking case of sexual frustration?

What a mess she’d made of things. She wanted to go home and have a good cry. She’d found the perfect man, a man who wanted the same things she did, but she’d gone about it completely wrong. Now he thought she was an idiot who didn’t have the first clue what she wanted and worse, thought she was playing stupid mind games.

She had obviously sat there beating herself up for longer than she thought because the next thing she knew, Gray put a hand on her shoulder.

She looked up to see him standing there, a towel around his waist.

“Are you okay?” he asked quietly.

She let her hands fall to her sides, and she looked away. “You were right. I didn’t even realize what I was doing, but you’re right. I was orchestrating the entire thing. It’s what I’ve done in all my relationships. Is it any wonder I’m so fucked up?”

He sat down beside her, holding the towel up with one hand. “You’re not fucked up, Faith. And there’s nothing wrong with you wanting to orchestrate your sexual fantasies. I merely suggested that what you think you want and what you really want might be two different things. Maybe you need to consider that you might be better off in a situation where you’re calling the shots and controlling the situation.”

She let out a frustrated sigh. “But that’s just it, Gray. That’s not what I want. I know I’m all mixed up, but what I want is a strong man. Someone who isn’t afraid to step up and call the shots, as you put it. I want, no I need that from the man I’m going to be involved with. I want…I want someone who will take care of me, who will cherish my gift of submission. Maybe that sounds horribly old-fashioned, but I’m tired of searching for something that obviously doesn’t exist.

“Maybe I went about it all wrong, but it doesn’t change what I want. I know what I want. I just haven’t figured out how to go about getting it yet.”

She stood, suddenly possessed with the need to get the hell out of there. After all, she’d made a big enough ass of herself for one day. Maybe she’d go cry on Micah’s shoulder. Or maybe she’d just go home and try to forget this day ever happened.

She chanced one more look at him and found him staring at her in faint shock. There was an odd expression in his eyes like he was puzzling over her words. Which wouldn’t surprise her, since she’d made a muck of everything else.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “Truly, I am.”

She headed for the door, only anxious to be as far away from any more self-discovery as possible.

“Faith, wait,” he called, but she didn’t stop.

She picked up her pace and hurried out the door.

Gray watched her go, helpless frustration seizing his throat. Had he gotten her completely wrong? She’d looked so lost and confused, and then she’d spoken with such conviction about what she wanted.

He’d assumed she was playing sex games. Wanting her little kinky thrills without the veil of realism. But as he’d listened to her pour her heart out, he’d become more convinced that he’d misjudged her. Could it be possible that he’d found a woman who wanted the same things he did from a relationship?

She seemed unsteady, a little unsure, as if she was just spreading her wings and preparing to fly in uncharted airspace. And he’d shot her down.

What a mess. He couldn’t afford to get involved with her, not at least until the whole situation with Samuels and her mother could be resolved. He was using her, which in essence was what he’d accused her of doing to him. He winced at the hypocrisy.

For the first time in his life, he felt real doubt over a woman. He needed to get back perspective. Remember why he was here in the first place. A call to Mick should do just that. He needed an update on the case anyway, because it sure as hell hadn’t been uppermost on his mind for the last several days.

He rose from the bed and dropped the towel on the floor. He walked to his chest of drawers nude and rummaged for underwear, jeans and a shirt.

A few seconds later, he dialed Mick’s number and waited for his answer.

“Got any news for me?” Mick asked with no preamble.

“I was hoping you had some for me,” Gray said. “Other than the one phone conversation, I’ve come up with nothing. Her mother hasn’t called back since.”

Mick grunted. “Last report I got was the one where they were spotted in Huntsville. That was several days ago, so I’m sure they’ve moved on by now.”

“How are you getting those reports, Mick? Is the department investigating Samuels now?”

Silence registered on Mick’s end. “What are you insinuating, son?”

Gray blinked in surprise. “I didn’t realize I was insinuating anything. I wanted to know if the department had come around and focused on Samuels or not. What’s the latest on their investigation?”

Mick made a sound of disgust. “Rat bastards, the lot of them.”

“Maybe I should call and see what progress has been made,” Gray said.

“Nah,” Mick said quickly. “You’re supposed to be on leave. If they get wind of what you’re doing, your ass will be in a sling. I’ve got a contact there, an old buddy of mine who is keeping me informed of what’s going on. Or not going on as is the case.”

Gray shrugged. “Well, I’m not coming up with much on my end either. While I’m convinced that Faith’s mother is mixed up with some worthless piece of shit guy, I’m not sure it’s the same piece of shit who shot Alex. I’m operating on little to no knowledge over here.”

“You’re doing me a favor,” Mick said shortly. “That’s all you need to know. I know the bastard shot my son. If I had left the investigation to Billings, we’d still be pissing in the wind trying to come up with a suspect.”

Gray bit the inside of his cheek. He knew Mick’s emotions were raw, but his grating attitude was not something Gray was in the mood for right now. Especially since he was the one down here chasing his tail around his ass.

Which begged the question; why was he down here chasing a hunch? Mick hadn’t given him anything too substantive, but Gray owed him, and Alex was his partner. If Mick was right about who killed Alex, and the department wasn’t doing shit about it, then Gray damn well wasn’t going to back off.

“Look, son.” Mick’s voice became more cajoling. “I know this isn’t easy for you, down there cozying up to a skirt who’s probably as worthless as her mother. I know you’re anxious to be back on the job. Just give it a little longer. My gut tells me Samuels is heading down there. Shadow the daughter for a few more days. If nothing turns up, then you can come on home and forget all about it.”