“Boy, you are a slave! You don’t have enough power in this world to cause anything to happen. And there isn’t a soul alive who can control who they love.”
Oliver slanted his gaze over to her. “You know I’m in love with Ben?”
“I’ve got eyes, don’t I?”
He grimaced. “Yeah, I guess it’s pretty obvious. Pretty dumb, too, falling in love with a free person.”
Mary didn’t respond right away. Instead, she shoved the plate in front of his face and held it there until he took a piece of toast and started nibbling on it. “Not dumb at all. Master Ben’s a wonderful man. Handsome and kind. Hard not to fall in love with someone like that, if you ask me.”
Oliver swallowed his small bit of food. “He was the first person to kiss me, you know, that way. He held me in his arms and made me feel cherished.” Taking another bite, he shrugged. “Maybe I don’t really love him,” he said around the mouthful. “Maybe it’s only gratitude.”
Mary scoffed. “I don’t believe that. I’ve been watching you two for days now, worried, to be honest. I could see how you felt about each other. Maybe I’m just a hopeless romantic, but it looks like love to me for both of you.”
Alarm shot through him. “Ben doesn’t love me.” He’d been assuring himself of that for hours. Despite what the master had said during the fight, he had to believe that Ben’s offer of sacrifice had merely been born from the heightened emotions of the event. “He’s a decent man, is all, and he’s trying to protect me. I’m not worth sacrificing what he wants for the rest of his life.”
“Oh, darling,” Mary said, patting his arm. “He’s old enough to make his own decisions. You have to trust him to know what he wants. God knows you have no say over it. If Master Ben wants you, be grateful that he’s someone you want, too.”
Oliver blinked back tears that threatened to leak out. The advice is what he’d heard his whole life. Only free people made decisions and had the luxury of choosing what they wanted. Slaves dared not have opinions and accepted gracefully the decisions made for them by their betters. He’d always tried to be a good boy, a good slave. It’d made his mother happy when he stayed out of trouble. It made him happy, too, of course. Being punished was never enjoyable and often in the last year certainly, unbearable. This time it was different. If he passively allowed Ben to turn his life upside down for a slave, it would be wonderful only in the short term. Eventually Ben would regret his decision and maybe resent Oliver for it. Regardless, Oliver knew he’d hate himself for making Ben unhappy.
“I can’t let him do it,” he said in almost a whisper. “I can’t. I do love him, too much to be so selfish.”
Mary sighed and set aside the half-eaten toast. “And just what do you think you can do to stop it?”
Oliver shook his head. “I don’t know. I’ll think of something. If I really love Ben, I have to.”
The tears spilled out and down his cheeks. He made no move to wipe them away. The enormity of the situation overwhelmed him, pressed on his chest, hurting his heart, and forcing air out of his lungs. When Mary wrapped her arms around him and hugged him to her breasts, he went willingly. A sob tore past his lips then another. He let himself go and wailed at his own impotence until he had nothing left inside.
****
Oliver woke with a start, eyes gritty from his crying jag and large portions of his body throbbing with pain. In the dimmed light of the subterranean room, it was impossible to tell the time or how long he’d been asleep. None of it mattered anyway. The one overriding thing that grabbed his attention and chased the remaining fog from his brain was that Ben had come into the room. Oliver bolted to his feet and almost keeled over when his head swam.
“Whoa!” Ben rushed to his side and held him steady. “Are you okay?”
Oliver kept his head down and struggled to provide an answer. Instead, he blurted out, “The master?” He didn’t dare look at Ben as he waited for an answer to the half-formed question.
“He’s going to be fine,” Ben said, rubbing his hands gently up and down Oliver’s arm. “It was a heart attack and he needs surgery for his arteries, but the doctor said he’d make a good recovery.”
Oliver let his breath out in a whoosh, his knees weak with relief. As bad as the master had treated him, he hadn’t wanted the man to die if only for Ben’s sake. “Thank God,” he said in a quiet voice.
“Yeah, it’s ah, good news. Here, sit back down and let me look at you.” As commands went, it was gentle. The pressure Ben used to press Oliver into a sitting position left no room for argument, however.
Oliver still didn’t trust himself to look Ben in the eye, so he kept his gaze on his hands clasped in his lap. Ben’s scrutiny was almost a palpable thing. Oliver acted like a good slave, obedient and pliable when Ben used his finger to tilt his chin up to inspect his face and raised the hem of his T-shirt to look at his torso.
Air wafted between them when Ben choked out an, “oh.” Then he said, “Mary said you insisted on not going to the clinic.”
Hearing the censure in his tone, Oliver jumped to alleviate his concerns. “Nothing’s broken, I’m sure of it. I just needed cold packs and ibuprofen. Really.”
Ben huffed out another breath. “Fortunately for you, Mary agrees. I trust her judgment more than yours on this.” With the side of his finger, he forced Oliver’s chin up again. “Look at me,” he ordered in a quiet voice.
Unable to refuse Ben anything, he lifted his gaze. The misery he saw in Ben’s eyes would have made him cry all over again if he’d had any tears left.
“I’m so sorry I didn’t protect you.”
“No, sir, please don’t blame yourself. It wasn’t your fault.”
“Yes, it was!” The sternness of Ben’s tone caused Oliver’s breath to hitch. “And I’m sorry I yelled at you. I didn’t mean it when I said your wishes didn’t count. I just wanted to keep my father’s attention off of you. Forgive me, please.”
“There’s nothing to forgive. What you said was true, I don’t have a say in what happens to me.”
“I disagree, and don’t start arguing with me now,” Ben added teasingly, “There’ll be plenty of time to develop that skill later.”
Before Oliver could process exactly what that meant, Ben reached up to unclasp Oliver’s slave collar. When it fell away from his neck, he took the first truly easy breath in weeks. He’d become accustomed to its tightness and the feeling of liberation made him grin. Ben mirrored the expression before fishing one hand into his front pocket. He pulled out a gold necklace made of thick links longer than the one that had been taken off. A round disk etched with a single stylized letter swung from it.
Treating Oliver to an even broader smile, Ben wrapped the necklace around Oliver’s neck. It sat loosely along his collar bone, the pendant lying flat just below the hollow of his throat. The metal felt cool against his skin.
“There,” Ben said with a brisk nod. “That’s better.”
Oliver licked his lips. “I-I don’t understand.” That was not entirely true. Of course he understood the import of the changing of his collar. He just needed to hear it confirmed. Then he needed to undo it.
Ben pulled out of his back pocket a document folded lengthwise in half. He opened it and showed it to Oliver. “Look at this.”
He did as told, but all he could tell was that his name appeared imbedded within it. The rest of it meant nothing to him. He dropped his gaze. “I’m sorry. I can’t read.”
“Oh!” Tossing the paper on the coffee table, Ben clasped Oliver by the shoulders. “That was stupid of me. I should have known. Don’t worry, I’ll teach you.”
Oliver hid his wince. Learning to read would be nice, but he didn’t want Ben to have to keep him long enough to accomplish it. He said nothing, however, merely nodded in understanding, if not agreement.
“It’s a bill of sale. I, well, I own you now.”
Despite his determination to set Ben free of obligations, he couldn’t suppress the thrill
of the idea that he was Ben’s, if only for a little while. “The master changed his mind about selling me?”
“Yeah. The heart thing proved to be a wake-up call. He needs to slow down, retire. So he made a deal with me. I agreed to take over the business and he gave you to me.”
Before Oliver could find his voice, Ben gave him the whole story. Most of it went over his head, the idea of a condition and not being able to free Oliver for twenty years. He never expected to be freed, so no disappointment there. The mention of Vince McGill froze his blood in terror for a few seconds. Still, when Ben stopped talking to him and sat waiting for Oliver to respond, he steeled his resolve. Mary had been right. As a slave, he had no power in this world, except for this one thing he could do to protect Ben.
“Thank you, sir, for everything you’ve done for me. These last few days in particular have been the best I’ve ever known.” The words choked in his throat for a second before he forced himself to be strong enough to continue. “While I’ll always be grateful for the kindness you’ve shown me, I have to be honest and say you shouldn’t be making this sacrifice for me.” Sneaking a peek, he saw the deep frown on Ben’s face before dropping his gaze once more.
“What are you talking about, Oliver? Why are you being so formal, calling me ‘sir’ and shit? Being my slave is just a legal technicality. I’m still Ben, and nothing’s going to change between us except that we don’t have to slink around and hide how we feel.”
“Feel?” Perverse as it was, he wanted to hear Ben say he loved him, if indeed he did. Just once. It would be something to treasure for the rest of his life.
Ben chuckled. “Yes, feel!” Clasping his hands in his own, Ben brought them up to his lips for a quick kiss. “I love you, Oliver.”
His eyes closed as the confession washed over him, making him feel light and easing all of his aches other than the one in his heart. He wanted to launch himself into Ben’s arms and hold on tight. His new master offered him everything he wanted, love, safety and a secure future. It would be so simple to take it, yet so selfish. He couldn’t do that because he loved Ben, too.
Opening his eyes, he gently tugged his hands back and ignored the hurt in Ben’s eyes. “Love? Really, Master, I’m just a slut.”
“I told you before don’t call yourself that.” Ben retorted, his tone tinged with anger. Good, that might make it easier to chase him away.
Oliver shrugged and looked Ben in the eye. “Why? It’s what I am. And I’m an honest one, too, so I’ll confess I used all of the skills they taught me at the training center to please you. I figured you’d be nicer to me than your father, and I was right. You’ve been real nice, thank you for that. But love?” He shook his head and grimaced. “Forgive me, Master, for saying so—you’re confusing great sex for sentiment. I don’t love you, in any event,” he added for good measure and waited for a blow that never came.
He almost wished Ben had lost his temper and punched him or took him down to the basement for a hard beating. More physical pain would have been infinitely preferable to the agonizing silence that followed. The heat of Ben’s gaze forced Oliver to look away. Finally Ben sighed and stood.
“You know what? I don’t believe you. Okay, maybe you don’t love me. We haven’t known each other long, and being a slave it’s probably hard to see me as anything other than someone who gets to order you around. I’m willing to wait and see how it goes between us. Maybe with time, you’ll come to love me. If not, it’s still okay.”
Oh God, the man was being stubborn! Oliver stood, too, ignoring the screeching pain strumming through his body. “You’re wasting your time and throwing your life away for nothing.”
Crossing his arms, Ben gave him a mulish expression. “I don’t think I am. And anyway, it’s my decision to make, and I’ve already made it. You don’t get a vote on it.”
“Of course not,” Oliver muttered, frustration lacing every word. “I’m only a slave. I have no choice. I just said as much.”
“I didn’t say that exactly.” When Oliver looked at Ben skeptically, he continued. “I meant you don’t have a vote in the decision I’ve made regarding my life. You do have a say in your own, however. Even though you belong to me, I’m not going to make you be my body slave. Oh, you’ll sleep in my bed, all right, but I won’t touch you. I won’t make you touch me, either,” he added. “The choice about whether we continue to build a relationship is entirely up to you. Say the word, and I’m yours. Otherwise, not. No pressure at all.”
Oliver couldn’t help the snort that came out. “You’ll make me sleep with you, but I don’t have to fuck you?”
Ben shrugged. “I want to stack the odds in my favor. I told you, I love you. And I’m betting you love me, too, or will once you’re out from under the power and fear of my father.” His voice softened as he added, “I won’t let anyone hurt you ever again. That’s the vow I make to you and it’s not conditioned on anything.”
As he stared at Ben, Oliver saw the conviction in the man, the determination. Part of him desperately wanted to buckle and accept what he offered. The stronger part rebelled. He had to stand firm. If he resisted Ben and the life he dangled in front of him long enough, eventually the man would change his mind. Nothing was more important than Ben, not Oliver’s life and not Oliver’s happiness, either. He could do this. He could save Ben from himself.
Chapter Eleven
“Pizza’s here.”
Oliver peeked around the door to the closet where he hung clothing. The guy’d been tireless in unpacking all their stuff, well, Ben’s stuff mostly, all day. Ben was glad to have a good excuse to make him stop. Despite Ben’s efforts to treat Oliver as a partner instead of a slave, Oliver refused to act like anything else. He had become irritatingly good in the last few weeks at being quietly rebellious. Ben’s patience had already worn thin, so when he sensed Oliver intended to argue with him, he made like the master the law said he was.
“Now, Oliver. It’s almost eight. We can finish unpacking tomorrow.” He put a little greater emphasis on the we, given how Oliver had been flitting around their new home, trying to get to tasks before Ben did.
“Yes, Master.”
Ben gritted his teeth while he walked back to the dining area. So far, Oliver had resisted all entreaties to use Ben’s first name. The stubborn guy refused to show any familiarity with his new master and Ben refused to make it an order. This battle of wills was part of a larger war of attrition. Somehow Oliver had come to the conclusion that he wasn’t worthy of Ben’s decision to accept his father’s terms for handing over Oliver’s ownership. He didn’t believe Ben really and truly loved him, or worse, that the love was important enough.
Well, Ben could be stubborn, too. He was determined to show Oliver by deed, as well as by word, that he really loved him and no sacrifice was too great. He also took delight in the quick frown marring Oliver’s pretty face when he saw that Ben had already beaten him to setting the table and pouring glasses of iced tea to go with the pizza.
“Have a seat,” he said and he took his own.
That was part of the pattern they’d fallen into; Ben giving Oliver permission for every little thing, like eating, watching television, and going to bed. It was okay, he told himself. Eventually Oliver would become more comfortable with his new life and settle into a more natural rhythm. Hopefully that would include his sliding over to Ben’s side of the bed at some point. Nighttime had become its own special kind of hell with the two of them sleeping together without any physical contact.
True to his vow, Ben hadn’t touched the guy even in a casual way. It made him achy and twitchy, but on the chance Oliver had been truthful about not caring for Ben the way Ben did for him, he didn’t want to pressure him for sex. Forcing Oliver, raping him to Ben’s way of thinking, would be unforgivable. No, the first move had to be Oliver’s in that regard. Although he wasn’t sure how many more months he’d make the guy sleep in his bed, eventually he’d have to accept what Oliver said at face value. In
the meantime, at least he’d found something productive for Oliver to do. He was a natural at woodworking, and Fiorello had been happy to put the guy to work. If nothing else, Oliver now had a job more meaningful and fulfilling than being a body slave.
Putting a slice of pizza on Oliver’s plate, he said, “Eat up, you must be starving. I know I am. I hadn’t realized moving would be so difficult. I have more crap than I thought.”
Oliver pleased Ben by taking a large bite of his slice. “Thank you, Master, for ordering this,” he said around the food in his mouth.
“Given that the kitchen is completely empty of anything edible and I’m too tired to go shopping, it was the least I could do.”
Swallowing down his mouthful with some iced tea, Oliver said, “I’d be happy to go buy anything you’d like after dinner, Master.”
Ben frowned and shook his head. “No way. We’ve been at this all day, even with the movers I hired. We’ll go out for breakfast tomorrow. After we sleep in,” he added. “Then tackle shopping for supplies and clearing the rest of this mess.”
He looked around his small and currently chaotic house. Living in his family home, especially when his father had come back from the hospital, had been awkward. He’d made finding his own place a top priority, although finding it while he acclimated to his new role as boss at the lumberyard had been difficult. It was a nice place, though, with three bedrooms, an open floor plan for the kitchen, dining area, and living room, and a neat backyard with a swimming pool. He’d been adamant about that because he still took great pleasure in teaching his lover to swim.
Oliver finished his slice of pizza and sat back, fiddling with his almost-empty glass. With a suppressed sigh, Ben slapped another slice on the guy’s plate and grabbed the glass to refill it. “I swear it’s like you’re a baby bird. Pretty soon I’m going to have to regurgitate my food and pass it into your mouth.”
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