He refused to give up. Drawing had always been a way for Kale to work through his emotions. How could he understand his feelings toward Jason if he couldn’t put him on paper?
This time, he kept his eyes open and drew whatever came to him. The curve of the back seemed to be adequate, his hand gliding over the paper easily. Arms formed, a torso, but then it came time for the face.
Rap, rap.
“Come in,” Kale called. The light knocking on the door would be Sophie. Kale ignored her as she entered, putting all his attention to forming the eyes and mouth. If only they would cooperate, this one might actually be passable.
“Damn.” The face staring back at him was not Jason’s. Kale didn’t know who it was.
“What are you drawing?” Sophie neared, peeking over his shoulder.
“Nothing.” Kale scribbled through it and added it to the pile. “Is there something I can help with?”
“I was just getting ready to make some bread and thought I’d see if you wanted to help. There’s lots of dough to be kneaded and pounded.”
“I’d love to, Sophie.” There was something therapeutic about helping Sophie with the bread, and she knew it. Without any real responsibility, Kale often felt at odds staying in such a nice room. He wanted to be of use, and at least when he was working with the dough, he could take out some of his frustrations on it.
In the kitchen, Sophie tore a large, sticky ball of dough from a giant bowl and slapped it in front of Kale on the floured counter. “Here, get started on this one.” There were several bowls full of dough spread throughout the kitchen.
“Dear gods, what do we need all this bread for?”
“It’s not for us.” Sophie was already busy at work on her ball. “The master is working with a charity that is having a bake sale.”
“So he volunteered you to provide the bread?”
Sophie smiled and brushed a golden wisp of hair out of her eyes, spreading flour on her face in the process. “Something like that. Just be glad we didn’t get stuck with the cakes. This is relatively easy, if time consuming.”
Kale added some more flour to his dough. “Has he always been involved in charity?”
“No, that’s a new development. Ever since he gave up alcohol. He’s always received a flood of requests from charitable causes according to Martin, but he used to just ignore them or send a check.”
“So how did he spend all of his time before?”
“He’s always worked himself into the ground. If he’s not working directly, he’s reading about it. From what I understand, he didn’t know anything about steel when he took over the business. There was also a lot of travel involved when he started looking into building a mill near the coast. And he wasn’t a complete recluse. If he thought it could benefit the business somehow, he went out to society events. Martin says that’s how he’s gotten so much business for the mill. In his words, ‘It’s amazing a man can get the business of so many people he despises.’”
“In some ways he’s changed so much, but he’s still the same.”
“That was him you were drawing earlier, wasn’t it?”
“Trying to at least. I used to draw him all the time. Now whenever I try, it just comes out wrong. I can’t figure out anything where he’s concerned. It’s aggravating.”
“I don’t understand you two. One minute it seems like you love him, and the next like you hate him.”
“I don’t hate him, that’s the problem. I wish I did.”
“Like I said, I don’t understand.”
Kale formed his dough into a nice round loaf and set it aside. Sophie handed him another ball and he dusted his counter again. “At least hating him would make sense to me. Instead, I love him. I’ve always loved him. But how can you love a man who owns you?”
“We don’t get to choose those things. You know that.”
“I hate myself for it, Sophie. He can sell me. He did. What kind of relationship is that?”
“Did you always feel that way?”
“It doesn’t matter how I used to feel. I don’t feel that way anymore. I can’t just be around him. It used to be so easy. It came so natural, even before I knew I loved him. Now, though, I can’t bring myself to be that way again. Every time I think of relaxing around him, a voice in my head tells me I’m crazy, he owns me and can do whatever he wants.”
“Do you trust him?”
“In some ways I do, in others I’ll never be able to trust him as long as he’s my master. He hurt me, Sophie. More than I knew it was possible to be hurt. I won’t give him that power again.”
“He doesn’t view you as a slave. He hasn’t from the moment he brought you home. Slaves don’t sleep in the finest room in the house. They don’t have leisure time or get to do what they want. You know all that. If he doesn’t view you as a slave, why can’t you stop viewing him as your master?”
“I want to, Sophie. I just don’t know if I can. How is it even possible? When I try to draw him, I picture all the things I love about him, but at the end of the day, he’s my owner. Nothing else trumps that.”
“Do you want my opinion?”
Kale raised his eyebrows. “You haven’t been offering it already?”
“I haven’t told you anything you didn’t already know. I’m talking about the hard stuff now.”
“Go ahead.”
“I think you’re scared.”
Kale bristled inside and suddenly took a keen interest in his dough.
“I think you’re angry and bitter and scared. I think, deep down, you’re miserable, but you’re comfortable there. The misery you know is better than the one you don’t. So I don’t think you’ve really tried to untangle all that emotion that you work so hard to keep locked away. I think you’re just hoping that you can live the rest of your life with it all bottled up and no one will notice. Eventually, you’ll die never having to go through the pain of sorting through it all. You’ll be unhappy, but there are worse things, you know that, and this way you’ve picked your poison.”
Everything Sophie said dug at Kale’s gut. It was hard to hear, but he knew it was true. “I’m a coward.”
“You’re trying to avoid pain. We all do. You just have to ask yourself if you’ve finally found something that’s worth facing up to all of it. Mr. Wadsworth seems to think he has. Now it’s your turn. You’ll never be able to figure out things between the two of you until you figure out yourself. And don’t think you’ll be able to avoid it forever. Eventually, the pressure will kill you, or it will force its way out, and it’ll be messy.”
The dough beneath his hands was no longer sticky. Kale put it aside and started in on a fresh mound. He couldn’t think about this. Right now, he could knead dough. He had kept it all bound up inside this long, so what if he put it off? Besides, even if it did burst out of him one day, that still had to be less painful than actively working through it. Didn’t it?
Chapter Thirty-Four
Contemporary Masters in Black and White is a special one-week exhibit at the Museum of Art. Up and coming artists from around Arine will be featuring their works composed exclusively of black and white materials.
Perfect. Jason tore the announcement from the paper. This was just the type of event he would like to take Kale to. They hadn’t been anywhere together in the last four weeks other than the park, and this was the perfect opportunity to change that. Each day, Jason could see Kale moving closer to him in inches. While his actions were not always consistent, Jason knew Kale still harbored feelings for him. It was just a matter of making him feel safe and secure enough to yield to them.
Jason threw a quick glance at the window. Kale was nowhere in sight. Jason would check his room first and then the kitchen. They used to have such fun looking at art exhibits together; Kale provided enlightening insights from his perspective as an artist, and Jason took pride in knowing that Kale could outshine any artist on display. This could be a positive step toward restoring their friendship.
Jason read the rest of t
he announcement as he walked. It sounded like it would be a fantastic time, all new artists, and Kale had always favored black and white art. He was so excited about the prospect of going out with Kale that he walked right into Kale’s room without knocking.
“Kale—” Jason looked up from the newspaper clipping and stopped cold. Kale had clearly just finished bathing and was getting dressed. Before him was Kale’s back, exposed as it had been that day at the mill. It had been so easy to forget what Kale’s shirt hid. The scars stood out, livid lines crisscrossing his back. Jason felt acid rise in his throat, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away.
Kale startled, snatched his shirt from where it lay on the bed, and shrugged it on, tucking it into his pants as he turned. His face was stricken, and Jason realized he only made the situation worse by staring, but he couldn’t help it.
“Master.”
Kale’s tone demanded that Jason snap out of it, but he couldn’t find anything to say.
“Is there something you need, sir?”
Jason remembered the paper in his hand. It seemed silly now to speak of going to an art gallery together, and he shoved the clipping in his pocket. “Did that happen at the mill?”
“No. It was before.”
There was some small relief in that. At least the lashes hadn’t been applied under Jason’s authority. It was hollow solace, though. He was the one who had put Kale in the hands of the men who had done this.
“Do they hurt?”
“After the initial pain you mean? No. They’re not easy to see, are they? Think how guilty you felt after what you did to me when Eric broke up with you. Doesn’t seem so bad now, does it?”
The real pain was left unspoken. This is your fault too, and you don’t feel a thing. Except Jason did feel; he felt guilt stab him so hard it took him a minute to get his voice back. “I never wanted that to happen.”
“I’m sure you didn’t. Just not enough to prevent it.”
Jason bridled at Kale’s accusations. There was plenty he was sorry for, but the blame for what happened couldn’t be placed solely on his shoulders. “You’re the one who told me to sell you. I wanted to keep you.”
“Yeah, well, what the fuck did I know? I’m just a slave. I was your responsibility, and you didn’t even have the courage to sell me yourself. You didn’t care what happened to me as long as you got to rub shoulders with your high society and finally get the approval of your prick of an old man. I got screwed because it meant more to you to have his love, even if it meant hiding who you are. What’s that worth, the love of someone who doesn’t even know you? They never knew you, not Eric, not Renee, not your old man. None of them knew you like…” Kale’s voice caught, and he looked away.
“Like you did.” That hitch of Kale’s voice caught on Jason’s heart. In his mind, he saw this gentle man, beaten and abused, with nobody there to comfort him. What must it have been like, going through all that brutality alone? At that moment, every urge in Jason’s body was to comfort. Every impulse was to pull close and hold tight. Only he knew that wouldn’t be welcome.
However, standing by and simply watching was not an option. Jason approached Kale and reached up a hand to his face. Kale predictably flinched away at first, but Jason was persistent. It was a token resistance. Kale gave in quickly and allowed Jason to caress his face. Jason suspected Kale was tired of fighting.
“I’m sorry. You should have never had to go through that.”
“I don’t want your pity.” Kale might not have wanted pity, but he was accepting comfort. Jason’s hand still traced Kale’s face as they talked. The curve of Kale’s cheekbone, the smooth feel of his freshly shaved skin, it all felt so good that Jason didn’t ever want to stop.
“Good. It’s not pity I want to give you.”
Kale pulled away and dropped into a chair. His body looked deflated and weary. “You weren’t supposed to ever see the scars.”
“I saw them back at the mill.” Jason occupied the chair next to Kale’s.
“Yeah, well, that was different. I couldn’t help that.”
“You thought you’d be able to hide your back from me forever?”
“Why not?”
“You didn’t think we’d ever make love again?” The idea that Kale wanted to hide any part of himself from Jason was disturbing.
“Nothing’s changed. It still can’t work for the same reason it couldn’t before. We’re not lovers.”
“But you want it. You’re not nearly as good at hiding your feelings as you think. At least not from me.”
“Not anymore.”
“Why?” Jason leaned forward, nearly pleading.
“Too much has happened. I’m not the same person you fell in love with. These scars are the least of it. I’m just as ugly inside. How could you ever love that?”
“Whoever told you you’re ugly?” Jason slipped out of his chair and knelt in front of Kale, grasping his head between his hands, forcing Kale to meet his eyes.
“You don’t know what’s inside me. I’m so bitter. Right now, looking at you, I can’t help thinking how mad I am at you for allowing this to happen, for hurting me. It’s not fair, and I know it, but I can’t let go. I want to.”
“I know you do, Kale. I know you. I see you. You’ll never be able to hide from me.” Jason didn’t know if that was the right thing to say. Probably not, it would most likely just scare Kale even further away. “I love you. That love never stopped. I can take your hate right now. I can take the bitterness. Just let me in. Let me help you.”
The conflicting emotions in Kale’s eyes tore at Jason. There was such uncertainty and fear there. There was only one thing Jason could think to do. Leaning swiftly in, he connected lips with Kale. He felt the surprise behind Kale’s mouth, but he wasn’t going to back away. In the face of Kale’s uncertainty, Jason would be sure. He sucked Kale’s bottom lip in between his teeth and slid his tongue along it until Kale surrendered and opened his mouth.
When their tongues touched for the first time, it felt both old and new at the same time. Like coming home after a long absence. This was where Jason belonged. Kale was the man Jason was meant to share his entire being with. Jason explored Kale’s mouth, reacquainting himself with this body that had at one time been more familiar to him than his own.
Kale’s hands grasped Jason’s neck, kneading it as he pulled him closer. Jason hadn’t realized he’d been anxious until Kale’s hands melted his nerves, and Jason knew that simply kissing was no longer an option. He wanted to taste all of Kale.
“I love you.” They were the only words that could have compelled Jason at the moment to break from Kale’s lips, and they needed to be said. “I don’t need to hear those words from you. I just need to show you. Let me.”
Kale nodded breathlessly. There was raw desire in his eyes, but even the passion in his dilated pupils couldn’t completely hide the fear. Jason stood, pulling Kale with him and maneuvering them so Kale’s back was to the bed. Clothing suddenly seemed a cumbersome thing, thick and heavy between them. Jason wanted to dispose of it as quickly as possible, but there was the risk that removing Kale’s shirt would make him self-conscious again. The shirt was going to come off, but some preparation would help matters.
Jason reached for Kale’s belt first, hoping to help Kale commit to the idea of sex before tackling the shirt obstacle.
“It’s been a long time for you, hasn’t it?” Jason had Kale’s pants undone, and as his hand wrapped around Kale’s balls, his lips latched on to Kale’s throat.
“Gods, yes.” It came out as part groan. “Too long.”
Jason rolled Kale’s balls around in his hand. They felt perfect: perfect size, perfect soft skin, and the sounds they elicited from Kale were perfect. He snaked his other hand underneath the front of Kale’s shirt until he felt soft chest hair under his fingers. Kale had the best chest hair, not too thick or wiry, just enough to make Jason heady with the masculinity of it.
While one hand was busy playing wi
th Kale’s chest hair, Jason moved the other to encircle Kale’s cock. It was semi-hard, and Jason lightly ran his fingers up and down its length, his touch feather soft, meant to tease, not satisfy. Kale’s head fell back, and he released an agonized moan.
Jason lifted his lips to Kale’s ear. “Back up.”
Kale did so, moving until he sat on the bed. Jason disposed of Kale’s pants and then divested him of his shirt in one swift movement, pushing him down flat on his back. They wouldn’t deal with Kale’s back today. Jason didn’t suspect this would last long enough to broach those issues.
Jason spread his hands against Kale’s chest, luxuriating in the feel of Kale’s skin under his. No other skin felt like this. Jason knew what it was to be addicted to a chemical. This was an addiction to touch. His hands were drawn to Kale’s body as if by an outside force.
Kale’s eyes were closed. Jason would have loved to see the pale green that contrasted so nicely with Kale’s honey-toned skin, but it didn’t matter. Traveling down, his eyes caught on the mark that was turning from red to purple on Kale’s neck. He didn’t know how Kale would feel about that later, but Jason was satisfied that he had enjoyed the application.
That reminded him, his mouth was unoccupied. He licked his lips and descended on Kale’s right nipple, rolling the left between his thumb and forefinger.
“Uhhh.”
Jason gripped Kale’s cock with his other hand. There was nothing light about his touch now.
“Yessss.”
A few tugs and Jason felt droplets of pre-come leaking from the tip. Kale had waited long enough. Jason was not going to prolong the anticipation any longer. He rolled the little nub of Kale’s nipple around in his mouth a few more times and then released it, bestowing a kiss before he left the area entirely.
Before Kale could realize what was happening, Jason knelt on the floor and enveloped Kale’s cock with his mouth.
“Ohhhh.” Kale’s hands came down to Jason’s head. Their weight was welcome, not demanding or steering, merely looking for an anchor.
The salty taste of pre-come hit Jason’s tongue, and he was surrounded by Kale: Kale’s unique scent, his taste, the wiry hairs his cock nestled in. It was Kale, and it was heady.
[Measure of Devotion 02.0] Measure of Strength Page 15
