Page 73 of Ryker

Because I’ll certainly do mine.

Chapter 26

Tara

Ryker wants me to do my worst? That’s a hunk of bait I’m tempted to take. Look, I’m not a Domme. At least, I don’t think I am. But I don’t really consider myself a sub either. Maybe I’m a combo? Lord knows I can be aggressive when it’s called for, and obedient when I want to be. They say there are two wolves inside everyone—one of mine wants complete control, the other desperately wants to lose it.

Right now, I want control.

Ryker does nothing without purpose. There was a reason he treated me like that at the club. I just wish he’d told me why first instead of just acting like that.

But damn does this man look good on his hands and knees. He might be smiling, but I know it’s a mask. There’s a war going on in him and he probably thinks no one else sees it. But I do. I saw it in his eyes when we met the realtor at that apartment building. I saw it at the ceremony when he placed his bid for me to be the Butterfly. I felt it when he fucked me at my place. And I heard it in his apology outside my door.

“Everyone has their demons.” Closing the space between us, I tip his chin with the end of my flogger, forcing him to look up at me. “And I want to be introduced to yours.”

His eyes darken as he slowly unbuttons his shirt and pulls it off. God, his body is perfect. Defined muscle lends the perfect canvas for his tattoos and the way he sits makes his abs flex. It’s hard to tell how old he is, but I’d say late twenties, early thirties.

“What’s this date for?” I run the handle of the flogger along his chest where there’s a tattoo and a jagged scar.

“That’s none of your business, Butterfly.”

He’s right, but that won’t stop me from pushing him. “What’s the scar from?”

Ryker doesn’t answer that either. I sink to my knees in front of him for a better look. It’s a thick, raised line and must have been a painful injury. Without another word, I lean over and press my lips to it.

A breath shudders out of him. “Don’t.” He drops his head, shaking it. “Don’t ask me personal questions.”

“How are we supposed to trust each other if we don’t know personal things about one another?”

“You don’t need to know my past to enjoy my present.” His mask is firmly back in place. “And trust is something earned, not given.”

My gaze lingers a little longer on the scar before moving down to his abs again. Ryker sits back on his haunches, his hands pressed against his thighs. So much tension. So much ink. So much pain. This man is a mystery—one I’m not sure if I should leave unsolved or not. There’s appeal to both.

“I trust you.” My voice holds steady even though I’m trembling. “I wouldn’t have let you back in here if I didn’t.”

“You shouldn’t,” he argues. “I’ve proven over and over that I’m not a good man.”

“Who said I wanted a good man, Mr. Hudson?” Tipping my head, we’re suddenly very close again. “Maybe I want great man instead.”

He barks a laugh like that’s the dumbest thing he’s heard all day. “You’re more fucked in the head than I am if you think I rank any higher than the dog you’ve turned me into.”

“I didn’t turn you into a dog. And you are a great man.”

“Not hardly.”

“You protect.” Grabbing the flogger from the floor, I stand up. “You care for people.” Circling him, I run the tassels along the backs of his shoulders. “You work hard to keep everyone in here safe, happy, and healthy.”

I can’t see his face, but his body stiffens at my words, which means I’ve struck a chord.

Good.

Swinging the flogger down on his back, it falls flat, the impact sloppy. To recover, I keep talking. “You’re a great man, Ryker.” I swing again, this time making the tassels land solid on his skin with a thud. “Say it.” Swing. Thwack! “Say it, Ryker.” Swing. Thwack!

His back mottles with redness in no time.

“You’re a great man.” Swing. Thwack! My hits come harder. Faster. Stronger. Before long, my voice raises to a shout. “Say it!” Swing. Thwack!

Ryker shakes, and he pitches forward. His fists and knees dig into the carpet. I’m not sure if I’m hurting him or not, but he isn’t calling Red, so I’ll keep going. Swing. Thwack! Swing. Thwack!

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