Page 18 of Tame Me

“I’ve got you, Reid,” I say, tightening my hold on him. “I swear to God, I won’t let you lose anything… I will kill that bitch myself if I need to.”

“I was taking male birth control,” he says, wiping his face as he pulls back. “She found out and fucking tortured me.”

“How?” I ask.

“She has a thing about pegging me and making fun of me when I come,” he admits.

“You know that isn’t your fault, right?” I ask. “I know it’s one thing to tell a survivor of rape that, but to hear and believe it is different.”

“I’m not a…” he starts to say, but stops when we hear a noise at the door. I smirk, knowing that Ayla stayed behind.

“Come back out here, brat,” I say. The door slowly opens, and Reid can’t help but smile when she grins at us as if to wave a white flag.

“I was worried,” she says carefully.

“It’s okay,” Reid says, waving her over. When she gets close, she wraps her arms around him, and he melts. They both do, really. He rests his cheek on her head, and it dawns on me that Reid is in love with Ayla.

How did I not see this? He was pissed when I was eating her out and damn near in tears when I fucked her. It’s the main reason I did that, because I wanted to see how they interacted. He’s been helping her for so long and has taken a special interest in her. Should I be his boss or his friend? Can I be both? What is best for Ayla?

Ayla pulls back, and Reid rubs his hands down his face. “I’m sorry I worried you,” Reid says.

“When did she hurt you?” Ayla asks.

“Last night,” he says. “Missy is…”

“Insane,” I say. “The bitch is nuts.”

“Missy Holland?” Ayla asks.

“No, Missy Ramos,” Reid says.

“Oh, I know a crazy bitch named Missy,” she says. “I’m sorry she hurt you.”

“I’ll be okay,” Reid says with a simple smile. I don’t trust her questions one bit, though.

I decide I am going to let her think she’s gotten away with disobeying my instructions. I will get Reid to spank her later and see where it goes.

“Let’s go to group therapy,” I tell Ayla. She nods, and I can tell she doesn’t want to go.

Group therapy is bullshit. I don’t want to be here. Instead, I sit and cross my arms over my chest. Dr. Tabitha Sawyer is the one leading, so all of the other trainers and psychiatrists are elsewhere.

When we walked in here, Tabitha made some off-hand comments, implying that Thane was dumb. I am so pissed; I just want to go back to my room and relax. I am completely checked out and intentionally ignoring everyone.

“Ayla, did you hear me?” Tabitha asks.

“No,” I say simply.

“Do you want to introduce yourself?”

“No,” I scoff.

“Ayla,” Thane says. I am sitting with the other participants, but the trainers who stuck around are leaning against the wall, chatting quietly.

“It’s okay,” Tabitha says.

“I don’t think I fucking asked for your help, bitch. Eddie Chavez said he was going to help, and you see where that landed me,” I snap at her.

“Well, we can just go to the next person,” Tabitha says, completely unbothered by my attitude. “Clara, why don’t you go next?”