Surrender To Me

WREN

I dreamed of him. Of Bane. Of him bending me over the countertop in that private bathroom and slamming inside me. My dream self screamed in pleasure at the invasion, at his ownership of me. I hadn’t even seen his cock, but Dream Wren had an incredibly active imagination. And a very generous one.

Rolling over in my bed, I let out a deep breath and kicked off the thin sheet that had been covering me. It was only seven in the morning, and it was already in the nineties. The only positive I could take from the situation was that it was Saturday and the last day of the working week.

Getting up, I showered and dressed in my uniform, already looking forward to finishing up this afternoon and doing nothing tonight. Going out last night had left me almost too exhausted to sleep, but with the vivid image of Bane’s head between my thighs, my subconscious was eager to get into the REM zone.

As I ate breakfast, I checked my phone. I had a couple of missed calls from Darcy which had come through after I’d crashed. Fuck, I was supposed to meet her last night. Instead of listening to the voicemails, I just hit dial.

“Oh, thank Christ you’re not dead,” she answered.

“Good morning to you, too.”

“Don’t give me that shit, Wren Montana. Where the fuck were you last night? You didn’t call.

Didn’t text.”

“I’m so sorry, babe. It’s kind of a long story.”

“Does it involve sex because you know that’s the only acceptable excuse for me?”

I sank into my couch, a bowl of cereal on the table in front of me. “Yes, it involves sex.”

“All is forgiven, then,” she said. “Proceed.”

And I did. I told her how Bane had hijacked me at the front door by putting me on the VIP list. How he’d followed me into the bathroom and then proceeded to give me two of the best orgasms of my life. I’d been so ashamed of myself when I left the bathroom that all I wanted to do was go home.

“Wren, babe, what are you going to do? I mean, I get why you wouldn’t want to become Bane’s private pussy, but isn’t it a means to an end? Two weeks isn’t that long, and then Hawk’s debt will be gone.”

“Maybe,” I conceded. “Until he fucks up again. We both know he’s going to.”

“True… so what are you going to do?”

I ran a hand through my ponytail and dropped it onto my lap. “I don’t know.” “Want me to come over tonight?”

I smiled. Darcy was the best friend a girl could have. “Nah, I’m okay. When I finish up work tonight, I’m going to soak in the tub, then watch some Netflix before bed.”

“All right,” she said reluctantly. “But if you change your mind and want me to come over, I will.

Baron will understand.”

“Thanks, babe. I better let you go. I’ll talk to you later.”

I hung up the phone, not feeling better at all. Maybe I was being stubborn in not accepting Bane’s terms. He was right that a piece of paper could be dangerous for a man like him. It would look like he’d solicited sex, which in a way he was, but this was a personal contract.

And if I did do this, Hawk would be off the hook. I loved my brother and would do anything for him, but there had to be some limits. There had to be a line in the sand that I wasn’t willing to cross. Bane Rivera might just be that line.

As I walked to the shop, I shot a text to my brother, asking if he had any luck raising the cash he owed to Bane. I answered his call a moment later.NôvelDrama.Org is the owner.

“Hey, so I think I’ve found a way.”

“A legal way?” I asked. My brother looked for loopholes like a lawyer did-with precision and dedication.

“It’s horse racing… of course, it’s legal.”

I barely held in my groan. Of all the stupid, dumb-ass moves he could make.

“Hawk, for fuck’s sake! Really? You’re gambling to get money?”

“Well, if you know of a better way to clear my debt with Rivera, I am all ears.”

I hadn’t told him about the proposition. If he knew, he’d begged me to take it because he could be selfish like that. I understood fear was driving a lot of his words and behaviors, but I still felt that nagging sense of responsibility.

We’d been on our own since I was sixteen and Hawk was twelve. After bouncing from foster home to foster home together, I became emancipated at eighteen, got us an apartment, and took care of him ever since. That need to protect him was as strong as a mother’s instinct, and I couldn’t shake this ingrained need so easily.

I arrived at the shop, unlocked the door, and slipped inside. After shutting off the alarm, I told him, “I don’t, but I’m going to go and talk to the bank to see if they’ll offer me an emergency business loan.”

He blew out a breath, then said the words I’d been waiting to hear from him. “I’m so fucking scared, Wren.”

“I know. We’ll figure it out, though.” I glanced up as my nine o’clock client came in with her poodle. “I have to go, Hawk. I’ll let you know how I go with the bank.”