Page 23 of Going Deep (Odyssey #3)

M ichael stared in shock as Ginger froze, her eyes wide and wild with panic. What the hell had just happened?

He cursed under his breath when she started to struggle, pulling so hard on the restraints that if the bench hadn’t been bolted into the floor, she might have tipped it over. He hurried to her side, stepping up and leaning over so she could see his face, hear his voice.

“Ginger, what’s wrong? Are you hurting? Talk to me, darling.”

She didn’t seem to hear him, just kept pulling and yanking on the restraints, and he winced. The cuffs were wide and wouldn’t cut into her skin, but if she kept yanking, she’d bruise her wrists. “ Stop . Ginger , stop!” He laid his hands over hers to ensure she followed orders.

“Look at me, Ginger . Right now.”

He let out a sigh of relief when her eyes focused on his, but it was short-lived. The pupils were dilated, her eyes filled with fear, tears spilling over while he watched.

“Please,” she whispered, and the panic in her voice sent a shard of ice straight to his gut. “ I can’t. People watching. Please . Blue , blue, blue!”

Realization hit, and he cursed under his breath. “ Okay , baby, just hang on.”

He kept his hand on her wrists, kept his body positioned between her and the rest of the room as he looked around. Spotting Ben nearby, he jerked his head. “ Ben , I need a blanket. Fast .”

Ben nodded his understanding and moved quickly, returning with a soft, fluffy blanket in moments. “ Here you go, baby,” he told her, spreading the blanket over her. She relaxed minutely, but shudders still wracked her body, and her breathing was much too fast.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. “ I’m going to take out the plug and undo your legs, Ginger , then your arms. Do you hear me?”

“Yes,” she whispered, agony ripe in the single syllable. Tears continued to streak from her eyes, soaking into the hair at her temples. “ Please , hurry.”

“I’ll get her hands, Michael ,” Ben murmured, and Michael nodded in grateful acceptance.

“I’ve got you, darling. Just hold on.” He slid his hand under the edge of the blanket and gently removed the plug, whispering words of reassurance when her body jerked in reaction.

Ben freed her arms while he dealt with the plug, and she flung them around his neck, nearly strangling him.

Gritting his teeth at the trembling that shook her body, he swiftly unclipped the straps from the side of the bench closest to him, then reached across her belly to get the other.

And all the while he talked to her, murmuring words of comfort, affection, reassurance—hell, he didn’t know what he said—and she wasn’t hearing him, anyway.

She’d gone away, deep inside where it felt safe.

Because she didn’t anymore.

Grim-faced, he folded the blanket around her as tightly as he could and scooped her up into his arms. She curled into him so tightly it was like she was trying to crawl inside him, and the ice in his gut spread.

He glanced at Ben , and the other man nodded. “ I’ll get your bag down to the bar.”

Nodding his thanks, Michael tightened his grip and moved through the parting crowd.

The elevator was just past the staircase, the doors sliding open smoothly and silently when he punched the button. He stepped in, using his thumbprint on the scanner to direct it to the fourth floor. As the car rose, he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “ Hang in there, sweetheart.”

She didn’t answer, and he didn’t expect her to.

The elevator doors slid open into his foyer, and he strode through to the large sectional sofa.

He sat in the corner, arranging her on his lap so her back was against the thick cushions, her head on his shoulder.

He snagged the thick throw from the back of the sofa and tucked it around her legs and feet, then settled back.

He stroked her back, her hair, her legs, murmuring to her. “ I’ve got you, darling. You’re safe. I’ve got you.”

Ginger felt as though she were awakening from a long sleep. Her eyes were gritty, her mouth felt as though she’d been sucking on cotton balls. Her limbs were heavy, and more than anything she wanted to curl up and go back to sleep.

But the voice was talking to her, calling to her, and she gradually became more aware of her surroundings. The hard muscle under her cheek, the strength of the arms that held her. The scent that was uniquely Michael .

She lifted her head slightly and looked up into a hard face and hooded green eyes. “ Michael ?”

He smiled at her, though his eyes remained dark, and a gentle hand came up to cup her cheek. “ There you are,” he murmured. “ You know where you are, darling?”

“Um.” She glanced around, blinking in confusion. “ No .”

“We’re in my apartment, over the club,” he told her, watching her face carefully. “ How do you feel?”

“I don’t know.” She felt as though she were trying to think through a fog. “ What happened?”

“You used your anxiety safeword, a little too late, it seems.” He shifted, arms tightening around her as he rose. “ Let’s get a little more comfortable, and then we’ll talk about that.”

She lay quietly in his arms while he carried her into the bedroom, then through to the bath. He set her on a padded bench at the long marble counter, then crouched to unzip her boots and tug them off her feet. “ Wait here, darling.”

She sat, feeling bemused and befuddled, until he returned with a couple of bottles of water. He opened one and handed it to her. “ Drink ,” he ordered, then opened the shower door and flicked on the taps.

He shot her a glance. “ Ginger . Drink the water.”

She automatically obeyed, drinking slowly at first, then deeply when she realized how thirsty she was. By the time he’d stripped out of his clothes, the bottle was empty.

He urged her to her feet, tugging the blankets away to fall to the floor. “ Into the shower,” he ordered, a hand on her butt to move her along, and she hissed as his palm brushed against the tender skin.

His lips quirked in a half-smile, and he pulled the shower door shut. But he said nothing, just tucked her under the warm spray and picked up a bottle of body wash.

“Um. I …” She swallowed hard when he sent her an inquiring glance. “ If you have to go back downstairs…” she began, then trailed off at the look in his eyes.

“I’m exactly where I want to be,” he told her, and his tone had her mouth snapping shut.

He poured some body wash into his hands, the familiar woodsy scent filling the air as he worked up a lather. He stroked his hands over her skin, washing every inch of her. He even washed her hair, tilting her head back in the spray until the water ran clear.

She stood docile throughout, her mind still in a fog. He turned off the taps and dried her off with a fluffy towel, using a second one to dry her hair. He hooked a third around his waist and steered her into the bedroom.

He flipped the covers back. “ In you go,” he told her, and she crawled between the sheets, exhaustion pulling at her.

He crossed the room to flick off the overhead light, then turned on the bedside lamp before sliding in beside her.

He tugged her into his arms, arranging her so she lay on her side, facing him. “ Now , let’s talk about what happened.”

She sighed. “ I panicked when I saw all those people watching.”

“You sure did.” He gathered her close as shivers raced over her skin. “ You didn’t mark exhibitionism as a hard limit.”

She drew a shuddering breath. “ No , I guess I didn’t.”

“Why not?”

“I like the idea of it,” she confessed. “ Being on display. It’s sexy, in theory. And I thought I might get a little anxious, but not like…”

“Not like that,” he finished.

“Yeah.” She lifted her head to look at him. “ I’m sorry.”

“Me, too.” His eyes were soft. “ Is it something you want to work on, work through? Or should it stay ‘in theory’?”

She blew out a breath. “ Right now it feels like it should stay ‘in theory’.”

He brushed a tear from her cheek. “ Then right now it will.”

She managed a wobbly smile and snuggled deeper into his arms.

“Sleepy?” he asked softly.

“Not really,” she said. “ I just feel kind of hollow. And little.” She tilted her head up so she could see his face. “ Does that make sense?”

“It makes perfect sense,” he said with a smile and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “ Want to watch a movie?”

“Not really,” she said, too weary and weepy to think about tempering her answers. “ Can you just talk to me?”

“Sure,” he said, and though there was surprise in his eyes, there was pleasure as well. “ What would you like me to talk about?”

“I don’t know.” She wanted him to talk about himself, his family, his life, but she couldn’t think how to ask. Then she spied the book on his nightstand. “ Maybe you could read to me?”

“I can do that,” he agreed and reached back for the book. “ I’ve never read this author before, but my sister recommended this to me, and I’m enjoying it. Have you heard of her?”

She didn’t bother to hide the smile. “ Nora Roberts ? Yeah , I’ve heard of her.”

He eyed her curiously. “ Have you read this one?”

“A couple of times,” she admitted. “ It’s good.”

“I’m not usually a romance reader, but my sister said ‘diamond heist’, and I was sold.” He thumbed open the book, then glanced down at her. “ You okay if I pick up where I left off?”

“Sure,” she said, and laid her head on his chest.

He flipped through the pages briefly, then held the book in one hand, holding her securely with the other, and began to read.

She closed her eyes, feeling the last of the rough edges inside her smooth away as she listened to the sound of his voice.

* * *

“You said we could do whatever I wanted. Remember ?”

Michael frowned as traffic once again came to a crawling halt. “ I remember. I was hoping you didn’t.”

Beside him in the passenger seat, Ginger laughed. “ Come on. It’s a beautiful day. You don’t want to be inside on a day like this.”