Surrender, Page 2

  Julie shrugged. "Yeah, but Danika likes that I don't drink. She's had problems with girls who drink too much on the job. She says it makes you too vulnerable and that we have some shady characters that come in. She doesn't want us at risk."

  And I'm one of those shady characters.

  Danika wasn't the only one who liked that she didn't drink. He probably wouldn't be very interested in a girl who either drank too much or smoked. To echo Julie, not a moral thing, just not his thing. He'd wondered why he'd go for a bartender, knowing this. But now that he thought of it, he'd never seen her take a drink on the job.

  "Tea, then?" he asked.

  "Yes, please."

  "Hot or cold?"

  "Hot."

  As he poured her tea, Ishi quietly re-entered the room with Gabe's card.

  "Is everything okay?" she asked.

  "Everything is great, Ishi."

  "Will there be anything else?"

  "No, we have all we need."

  "If you decide you need something..."

  "I'll come to the door and let someone know."

  She smiled and gave a small bow, then turned and left them to their meal, closing the doors quietly behind her.

  They ate for a few minutes in silence, then Gabe resumed his interview. "Are you in school?"

  "I was. I'm taking some time off because I'm not sure what I want to do. It was okay to be indecisive at first because I had to get all the basic core classes in. But now it's to the point where if I don't have a declared major, I'm flying blind and wasting money I don't have to waste. I don't want to be like some slave with massive college debt I can never climb out from under."

  And she probably didn't want to be Gabe's slave either, he thought. But aloud he stuck to the conversation she thought she was having and said, "You have no idea what you want to do?"

  "I mean... in a perfect world I know what I'd like, but it's silly and unfeminist and... you'll laugh. Or be offended."

  "Try me."

  Julie's face turned nearly as red as her sweater. There was some resistance to this admission but somewhere within her she seemed to find the courage to say the words. "I want a simple life. I want to find the right man, someone who can take care of me. And then I want to take care of him and his house. And children if we have them. God, I can't believe I said that out loud. It's so mortifying."

  Gabe laughed.

  "I knew you'd laugh at me."

  "I'm not laughing at you. Trust me. I was just thinking you were in college to get your MRS degree."

  Julie looked down at her plate. "Yeah. Kind of, I guess. It's pathetic."

  Gabe reached across the table and covered her hand with his. "No. It's not pathetic at all. You want what you want. At least you're brave enough to say it instead of chasing an ambition that doesn't truly interest you."

  In truth, Gabe found himself ridiculously happy she had no large goals of her own. The idea that her sole ambition in life might be to serve him sent a thrill down all his nerve pathways. At least if things progressed and he became the demanding bastard he knew himself to be, he wouldn't be robbing her of some other great ambition and life.

  "Do you want children?" He worried this might be too much for a first date—not exactly light conversational fare—but kids didn't fit into his life. He had to ask all the important questions now before he let himself get carried away with plans for their future.

  "I'm not sure. I'm pretty young. It's a little early to decide that now, I think. Do you have kids?"

  "No."

  "Do you want them?"

  "No."

  "O-okay."

  "I got the snip. I never wanted them and wanted to be sure I never had them."

  "Oh."

  He watched as she carefully brushed her hair over her shoulder. More a nervous gesture than a flirtation. Dammit. She did want kids. This was clearly a dead end that was only going to make her uncomfortable, so Gabe shifted the conversation. They could worry about this kid thing later.

  "So, you're looking for a rich husband then?"

  "No. He doesn't have to be rich. And if he makes a small wage and needs my help to earn money, that's okay, too. I'd prefer to stay home, but I have a job. I can work. It's not a problem."

  "I'm teasing you," Gabe said. "I don't think you're a gold digger. Do you have any hobbies or interests?"

  "I-I like to play the piano."

  "Are you any good?"

  "Well, I'm not concert caliber if that's what you're asking, but I'm good to the untrained ear."

  "You didn't think to pursue that as a career?"

  Julie's lip turned up in a look of disgust that was almost too precious given her soft, sweet features. "God no. If I turned my love into a job, it would turn into... well... a job. I want it to be something I do because I love it, not something I'm striving to compete with the whole world for. I don't want to be the best. I just want to be."

  She might be innocent—far too innocent to work where she worked and to have reached the age of twenty-two—but she had all the makings of a submissive in every other aspect. Could he not gently lead her along this path? She seemed willing to be led, almost starving for it.

  Leaving aside the kid thing. But maybe later she'd change her mind. Or maybe she was being honest and it wasn't a priority. Maybe she'd just been taken aback by how firmly he'd said no. And if he had to live a double life with her, couldn't he set her up somewhere in suburbia and adopt a couple of kids? Men in crime families did the suburban family thing all the time. Probably not the best rationalization or example, but he was reaching for anything here.

  "W-what do you do?" she asked, bringing him back to the present.

  Gabe stiffened, still undecided on what he would tell her about that. But of course if he was grilling her, she'd begin to return the favor.

  But Julie continued and supplied a story for him. "I was sure you were in construction."

  He laughed. There was a weird sort of truth in that, if you counted what he did with the girls who came to the house for training construction. Maybe reconstruction. But definitely something new and grand was being built through his hands.

  "You're pretty perceptive," he said.

  Her face lit up. "So you are in construction?"

  "I am." But even this recombining of the truth turned his stomach. He didn't want something fake with her. He didn't want to have a whole secret life behind locked doors miles away from her. He wanted to be able to confide the truth. But there was no way he could tell her without bringing her to the house. And then she'd be his prisoner. Even without great ambitions, he didn't think he could do that to her. She wasn't just some girl. She was the girl who'd been tugging plaintively at his heart for months now.

  "Are you close with your family?" Gabe asked.

  "For a long time I was. They offered to pay for my college, but they wanted me to go to seminary. They had this idea in their head that I'd meet some nice preacher boy and that I would make an ideal preacher's wife. But I think it was this last ditch effort to keep me religious—like he could somehow babysit my thoughts and convictions. When I told them I didn't want to go to seminary and that I wouldn't marry someone religious, let alone a minister, they flew off the handle and disowned me. Supposedly I was killing my poor father with my rebellion."

  She looked down at her plate as if realizing how personal she'd gotten with him. "I-I'm sorry. That was way too much information probably for a first date." She took a slow breath, smiled nervously, and said, "No, I'm not close with my family. You?"

  Suddenly her working at a dive bar made sense. It was perhaps the least religious place she could immerse herself in... well, besides the house Gabe helped run, anyway.

  He swallowed a bite of food and took a drink of saki. "I am similarly estranged from my own family. Though for very different reasons. They're all a bunch of raging alcoholics. I left home the second I could be free of them."

  Julie stared pointedly at his cup of saki, then no doubt followed t
hat up with thoughts of him drinking whiskey at the bar.

  "Don't worry, sweetheart. I have much more self control than they have, and I have other vices to self-medicate with." Off her somewhat concerned expression, he added. "Not drugs, either."

  Sex. Control. Domination. Power.

  But that might be too much information for a first date.

  "What about relationships?" he asked. "Any jealous ex-boyfriends who haven't gotten over you that I should know about?"

  "Ummm..." Suddenly she became very interested in her hibachi chicken and the finer points of chopstick usage.

  "Julie?" He'd only been kidding. Was there a crazy ex to worry about?

  "I... no."

  "Okay, you have to give me more than that. There's a story there."

  "No, that's the thing. There isn't a story there," Julie said. "I-I don't have any exes."

  "What do you mean you don't have any exes? You're a grown woman. Religious upbringing or not, you aren't a nun."

  "Well, in high school, my parents watched me like a hawk. They needn't have bothered. I was... small for my age and..." she got flustered and trailed off.

  The light bulb clicked on. "Undeveloped," Gabe supplied.

  She flushed. "Yes. And you know high school boys. They were into boobs. And as the boob fairy had not yet blessed me, I was spared their attentions."

  "Trust me, you didn't miss much. High school boys are selfish lovers. I know, I was one once upon a time. But you look like a woman now, so what am I missing?"

  "Well, I was busy with school. I didn't have time to date. And then eight months ago I met this man I liked, so... I guess I was waiting for him to ask me out."

  God, this girl.

  "I see."

  "Does that put you off?" she asked. "I mean, I know there's a big age difference. And I'm not stupid. Despite the whole virgin fetish some guys have, I know most men get creeped out by it. I guess that's another reason I haven't dated. I feel like I've somehow missed my window. And with every month and year that passes, it gets weirder and weirder. If I'm not careful, the only suitable man for me will be a minister. Then at least I can say I was saving myself because of Jesus or something."

  He chuckled. "I really like you, Julie. Much more than I probably should."

  ***

  Gabe pulled up to the curb at Julie's apartment, got out of the car, and went around to her side to help her out. He was pretty sure this was the last time he would see her.

  "You're much more of a gentleman at the end of the date than you were at the start," Julie said.

  "Oh? How so?"

  "Well, I mean, you didn't even come up to my door."

  Because he'd been planning his escape.

  "Sorry about that."

  When they reached her door this time, they stood for a few long awkward moments. Finally, Gabe said, "Tell me you've at least been kissed before."

  She became very interested in her shoes. "When I was eleven."

  "So, no then," Gabe said.

  "Well, it was a boy. And he liked me. And it wasn't my cousin or anything. I told you I keep missing my window."

  Gabe pressed her against the brick wall beside her door, and wrapped his hand around the back of her neck, pulling her close. He tasted her. Her lips parted beneath the onslaught of his kiss. She melted under him. Finally he pulled away. No woman had reacted that way to his kiss in a very long time. They were all too jaded and experienced and kinky for a simple kiss to mean so much. He found that he wanted to take this sweet innocent girl who knew nothing of love and mold and train her so that she didn't know what was normal and what wasn't, so that the only thing she cared about was that he kept touching her and approving of her.

  "Well? Were you ever kissed before tonight?" he asked.

  Julie was flushed and breathing hard. "N-no, never."

  In his imagination she completed that sentence with sir. Of course in real life she would never address him that way without prompting. Maybe not even then. Besides, he got sir from the girls at the house. He wanted master from this one.

  Gabe turned to go. This was probably the best time to leave, all things considered. He had a lot to think about where Julie was concerned. He'd assumed he would have a war with himself over his next move. He hadn't expected the situation would turn out to be this extreme. She was so inexperienced he was sure it would be nearly impossible to be sure she could ever really want to give him the things he wanted. She needed a nice normal man who wouldn't demand too much of her. If Gabe was smart, he'd stop going to the bar and break off all contact.

  It might hurt her. It might seem cruel to her, but it was mercy.

  "Gabe, wait. Do you want to come in?" she asked, still a bit breathless.

  He turned back to her. "Do you know what asking a man if he wants to come in after a date generally means?"

  "Yes. God, I'm not stupid. And I haven't been cloistered away in a convent. I've read books. I've watched movies. I have a roommate, though Stacy's out right now... doing all this carnal stuff I'm apparently too innocent to understand. But I really mean... for coffee. Real coffee. Not coffee." She used air quotes. She was so adorable.

  He chuckled. "Yes, I'll come in for coffee, but then I have to go."

  She fumbled a bit with her keys and then unlocked the door and led him inside. If he were the smallest percentage point more evil, this one act would have sealed her doom with him.

  Julie flipped the light switch on and headed for the kitchen. "It's late. Do you want decaf?"

  "I'll have whatever you're drinking."

  The apartment was extremely tidy but sparsely decorated with cheap furniture that required assembly out of a box.

  "Okay. Do you take cream or sugar?" she called from the kitchen.

  "Black for me."

  While she busied herself in the kitchen, Gabe took a look around her apartment. School books lined the shelves. All the basics of math and science and history.

  "You don't sell your books back to the bookstore when you're done?" Her apartment wasn't in the worst part of town, but it also wasn't in the best, and school books were expensive.

  Julie poked her head out of the kitchen. "Oh, no, those are Stacy's. She's such a hoarder, I swear. But then... her parents are paying for most of her stuff, so I guess she can afford to be."

  Gabe wandered back through the apartment. "Which room is yours?"

  "Oh God, it's a mess, don't go back in there."

  "I'm a nosy bastard. Indulge me."

  "Fine. Last door on the right, beside the bathroom. But I warned you."

  He expected to find a huge mess, but all he found was an unmade bed and some clothes draped over a chair. This was a mess to her? The room was simple with a few posters on the wall. Pictures of old world architecture, mostly. On the desk were some books and CDs.

  When the coffee was ready, Julie brought it back to the bedroom and handed a mug of it to Gabe. It was a rich espresso roast.

  She seemed to realize suddenly that they were alone inside her apartment in her semi-darkened bedroom. She turned on a lamp as if that could change anything.

  He took the coffee cup from her hand and put it on the desk. Julie looked nervous, as though she might dart from the room like a scared rabbit. She worried her bottom lip and took an involuntary step back. Despite the thoughts running through his head, Gabe had a rational side of his brain that knew right from wrong and all the proper social conventions.

  For example, he knew that when a woman looked frightened of him, the correct appropriate response was to back off immediately and find a way to make her feel comfortable and safe again. However, despite this social training, the reality was that when he saw her like this... nervous, unsure, taking steps out of the room, all he wanted was to take her. The primal, predatory, uncivilized part of his brain knew exactly one formal word: Mine. The rest was a series of indecipherable grunts and growls.

  Before he could stop himself, he'd backed her into the living room and up against the
wall. He kissed her, and grabbed her wrists, pinning them over her head.

  "I want to tie you up," he said, barely conscious those words had escaped his mouth. He loosened his grip on her arms but now pinned her waist as he rained rough bites and kisses along her neck, pulling back the sweater to get at her collarbone.

  He wanted to take her back to the house where he had proper equipment. He wanted to put a collar around her throat even though a more sane and rational part of his brain tried to remind him quite reasonably that she wasn't like him. And besides all that... she was so innocent.

  "No! Stop it!" Julie shouted, shoving at him to get off her.

  On reflex, Gabe covered her mouth and pressed his full weight against her to stop her thrashing. "Shhh. You'll call all your neighbors to this door." She'd gone tense and terrified beneath him, her hazel eyes wide. This went well beyond the level of light fear and trepidation that excited him. This was exactly the look he was afraid he'd get from her. You stupid bastard. She's so inexperienced. This is way too much for her with a stranger. Think about what this looks like to her.

  Even if he'd been coming to the bar for eight months... being in a public place together was very different from being alone with a man she didn't really know. He had half a mind to turn her over his knee and spank her for letting a man into her house this soon. Even if he was that man.

  He moved his hand away and took a few steps back. She looked trapped and was shaking like a poorly socialized chihuahua. Definitely too much fear. He didn't want her this way with him. He wanted her to want this.

  "W-what did you mean when you said you wanted to tie me up?"

  "Forget it. It's not important."

  "It is important if you wanted to rape me!"

  "That's not what I meant. Some people like to be tied up," he said. Great way to introduce this to her, you stupid asshole.

  "Not me," Julie said.

  He didn't bother asking her how she knew what she was and wasn't into when she couldn't possibly know what her body could crave at his hands—what he could make her body crave with proper training. She might be willing to be led through a parking lot and ordered for at a restaurant, but she wasn't willing to be led into his chains or ordered to call him master.