“I don’t think you will, Chance,” he said with confidence. “You aren’t like that.”
She shrugged off his hand, dipped the cloth in the warm water bowl and then wrung it out before returning it to his body. Small, gentle swipes of the cloth dragged a sigh from him and when she knew he had relaxed, she slipped her fingers down beneath his jeans. At first she simply felt his hair, enjoying the texture. Hayes went stiff and swallowed hard again.
“I thought we were building a trust between us,” she whispered, allowing her fingers to slide farther down just a touch. “I guess I was wrong.”
“Chance, stop.”
“Stop what? I’m just trying to clean you up a bit. You broke out in such a sweat through all that pain.” Every time her fingertips swiped a certain spot he jerked, groaned and tensed. “Pain I obviously caused somehow. Do you know what it’s like watching someone you care about suffer like that and not be able to do anything to help? Worse, knowing it’s because of you?”
A ridge formed beneath his denim. Long, hard and thick. Her fingers grazed the hairy flesh just above where she assumed his head would rest. “It was because of me, wasn’t it?”
“Chance, you don’t understand.”
The gruffness in his voice pleased her. He hadn’t made a move to stop her exploration, which he could do very easily. “No I don’t. None of it. I don’t understand how you exist.” She ran her fingers through his thick thatch of hair on each side of his hard cock. “I don’t understand this mystical realm, I don’t understand how I could be so damn hot for you all the time and most importantly I don’t understand how a man I met three days ago could possibly make me care about him so much.”
She leaned down, let her warm breath bathe his taut abdomen muscles and then placed a barely there kiss to his flesh. A light touch, nothing more than a whisper, but it did the job. Hayes jacked forward, sitting up and trapping her hand in his jeans.
With a trembling touch, he cupped her cheek, gazing into her eyes. “You can’t care about me. Don’t let it happen, Chance. I’m nothin’, no one. A blip on your life cycle that you’ll soon forget once I’m gone.”
The sad, longing look in his eyes contradicted his words. He wanted her to care about him but reality demanded he force her away. She got it now. It scared him. Chance wrapped her fingers around his cock. Hayes groaned, released her face and leaned back slightly to give her a better hold.
“You can demand all you want, Hayes, but it’s too late. I care. No matter how much you hate that, it’ll change nothing. I won’t forget about you either. No amount of time will erase you from my memory.” Her hand stroked lightly up and down his shaft. “You’re a good man and this curse hasn’t changed that, so keep talking dumb and saying you’re nothing if it makes you feel better. I can see right through your mask.”
He gripped her wrist in a tight hold, stared at the ceiling and took deep, panting breaths. “I should have let that bastard rape you,” he blurted out.
Chance froze, every ounce of blood in her body stopped dead and refused to flow. Surely he didn’t mean that. He couldn’t. Hayes wasn’t that kind of man.
“I mean, I was punished for interfering. Our role is strictly to grant wishes and not participate in the lives of our masters.” A bead of sweat rolled down the side of his head. “This isn’t comin’ out right.”
“No, I get it,” she whispered. “You were punished for stopping that monster from attacking me.” Chance released his erection and pulled her hand away. “You didn’t help your argument, Hayes,” she continued as she pulled the blankets over him.
He knew he’d suffer and still protected her. Another little piece of her heart fell hard for the man. The knowledge his agony was her fault weighed heavily on her. She stoked the fire and then stood.
“You should get some rest.”
“Chance?”
Nothing could be said right now to make her feel better. She put her hands up and shook her head. “Not now. I need to think.”
“I knew what I was doin’ and I’ll do it again,” he told her as she walked away. “I’ll heal, Chance.”
She stopped. “Yeah, and that makes it all better doesn’t it?” Not to her. “Tell me this, how many other masters have you suffered for, Hayes? Is this something you do on a regular basis?”
He didn’t respond, only shifted his gaze away, answering her question without words.
Chapter Nine
Hayes listened to Chance walk to the bathroom and then heard the shower turn on. Alone now, he released a string of curses and shuddered from the acute pain still slicing through his body. He didn’t lie, he’d do it all over. Seeing that bastard standing over her and knowing what Bill intended to do, no amount of punishment in the world could have stopped him from interfering.
The only good thing about this fucking curse was it kept him from killing the man. Oh he wanted to. He wanted to rip him apart chunk by chunk. He’d never forget the fury that exploded inside him when he heard Chance scream. Deep inside he knew this wasn’t over yet either. Bill would be back. Not tomorrow or maybe even not in a few weeks, but he’d build up his courage and return and when he did, what the hell would Chance do to protect herself?
Maybe he could convince her to take some self-defense lessons or at the very least arm herself. Anything to keep her safe. It would be a worse torture than what he experienced now, knowing she’d been violated and abused by that creep.
A soft humming came from the bathroom. Her mellow voice drifted through the room and wrapped around his heart. She said she cared about him, not once but twice. She actually cared and it scared the hell out of him. Part of him didn’t want her to, the other part leapt for joy. The misplaced feelings would bring her deep heartache and that’s the last thing he wanted.
Even his attempt at trying to scare her away, telling her he should have let her be attacked turned out to be a miserable failure. Proof that he’d lost his mind. No sooner had he spoken the words than he regretted them. The charade ended there. What a world of trouble he landed in here in this time with this woman.
His attempt to downgrade her feelings for him ended up solidifying her emotional state. Hero? Not him. A real hero would have pushed past the pleasure she gave him with her tiny hand wrapped around his hard flesh and made sure she understood he was finished with their sexual play. Big ole lie. Damn it, he wanted her with every ounce of his one-hundred-plus-year-old body.
To top the entire mess off, now she felt guilty about causing his punishment. That he truly hated. He didn’t want her pity and he didn’t want her trying to make up for it. Which is exactly what she would do.
The shower turned off. He couldn’t help but imagine her standing in there naked, her dewy skin so soft and her wet hair hanging down around her shoulders. His cock throbbed to life, drawing a groan from his throat. Something bad was coming from all this. He could feel it in his bones. Someone would be hurt and he hoped like hell it would be him and not her.
When he heard the door open, Hayes closed his eyes and pretended to sleep. Her soft footsteps came near him, stopped and then moved toward the kitchen. It took everything he had not to take a peek. Did she have that thin towel on, the one he could practically see through? Another groan slipped free. Why did he insist on doing this to himself?
“Hayes?”
“Yeah.”
“Would you like something warm to eat? Maybe some broth or something?”
“I don’t need to eat anythin’, Chance. You take care of yourself,” he answered, refusing to open his eyes and look at her.
“Bull. You’re still a man and that means your body needs nourishment. I’ll make some chicken broth. If you feel up to more than that I’ll throw something together.”
He opened his mouth to argue but decided against it. In her mind, she needed to atone for being the cause of his pain. A cup of broth was better than what he feared she might do. “Thank you.”
He heard her fill the kettle, turn on the flame an
d then pull out a chair and sit. An odd tension flowed through the room. He didn’t like it. It meant she was stewing about all this. What could be going through her mind? The kettle whistled, he heard the water pour into the cup and then the sound of a spoon stirring in a mug. In a matter of seconds, she stood by him.
“Do you think you can sit up or should I get a straw?”
“I can sit up.” Excruciating pain speared through his body but he did his best not to show it.
Chance sat down, giving him his first look at her freshly showered. A bit of disappointment struck him. She was dressed, not covered in that flimsy towel. Good. He didn’t need that.
“Here, take it slow. I added some cool water so it won’t burn you.”
Chance lifted the mug to his lips and he sipped. At first the rich taste and heat felt good on his tongue but as soon as it hit his stomach all hell broke loose. The fiery pain had him crumpling over, grabbing his stomach and panting through the inferno.
“Damn it. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” Chance whimpered, her voice full of guilt.
It took long minutes but eventually the pain subsided enough for him to catch his breath. He turned his head and looked at Chance. “Guess I wasn’t ready for that yet.”
She mopped his forehead, helped him lie back and then gave him a determined look. “Hayes, I wish all your injuries and pain to be repaired and your body to return to a normal and healthy state.”
“No,” he sputtered, but it was too late. Already the power rolled through him. The wish overrode his ability to talk sense into her.
His body lifted from the floor, turned until he hung parallel and then a warm wave of electricity washed over him, zinging through every muscle fiber. His body jerked and shuddered uncontrollably, hoarse cries ripped from his throat. Through the haze he saw Chance stand, back away and hold her hand over her mouth. She looked terrified and he couldn’t do anything to comfort her.
Would this backfire? Would he end up a fried mass of flesh in her living room because she used a wish on him? He had no idea what to expect. Would his agony be transferred to her? Oh God, if it did he would never forgive himself.
A spear of white-hot pain rammed through him for a split second. He couldn’t contain the agonizing shout that tore from his throat but then it instantly vanished and he lowered to the ground. His unsteady legs gave out but he caught himself on her fireplace mantel. After taking stock of his body and realizing the slicing pain was gone along with the blisters around his wrists, he looked up at her. Tears and worry filled her eyes.
“Are you okay?” he asked. Jesus, if she felt one ounce of his misery, he’d lose his mind.
Chance nodded. “Are you?”
“I think so. What the hell did you do?” This wasn’t right. He didn’t know how to handle all this. No one ever used a wish on him.
“Are you still in pain?”
“It’s gone.”
Chance wiped away the tears, brushing at them with force. “Then I’d say I healed you and that’s exactly what I wanted.”
“Why?”
She jammed her little fists onto her hips, glared at him and then frowned. “Really? You need to ask that? Don’t play dumb, Hayes. It doesn’t become you.”
“I don’t play dumb,” he snapped back at her. “Why would you waste a precious wish on me? Damn it, Chance. It could have backfired. You could have received my pain.”
“But I didn’t,” she shot back instantly. “My wishes, remember. This is what I wanted. You’re welcome, by the way.”
The hurt in her tone affected him. It squeezed his heart and made him feel like scum. Doing the only thing he could think of, he stood tall and bowed from the waist. “I thank you for your incredible gift, Master, and hope to be able to repay it soon.”
What he meant as a sincere show of gratitude, she apparently took as an insult. “Don’t call me that. I am not your master. I don’t want to be and I never will be. A simple, ‘Thanks, Chance’, was too hard for you? You had to turn it into some mystical genie bullshit?”
“I’m sorry,” he started to say but she cut him off in a tirade.
“Save it!” She stomped toward him, got right in his face and continued. “You are a man. Do you understand me? A man. Not some mythical legend only made of green smoke and particles of dust. You bleed, Hayes, I saw you, remember? You breathe, eat and occasionally stink.”
Ouch, where did that come from?
“And you can fuck damn well. Or was that some genie trick?”
He opened his mouth to respond but Chance didn’t want to hear it.
“Don’t even,” she growled. “If you don’t want me that’s fine. If you aren’t attracted to me, wonderful, but stop using this ‘master’ crap on me to push me away. I find it nauseating and insulting. No one is master of anyone. You helped me and I had a way of helping you. Simple, end of story. Give and take. People help people because you care about them and nothing should be expected in return. No one ever has the right to control another person for any reason. I don’t ever want to be pushed around and made to feel like I’m nothing more than an object to be used any more than you do.”
And it all became clear to him in that moment. Her hysterical, incomprehensible rant didn’t have a thing to do with how he thanked her for healing him. And, by the way she slapped her hand over her mouth, she suddenly understood it as well. Chance made a quick turn on her heel, ready to run to her bedroom.
The oversized sweater she wore fell off her shoulder and revealed a large, purple and blue bruise on her back. The sight of it infuriated him again. Hayes blinked himself in front of her, stopping her escape.
“He did hurt you. You lied.”
“It’s nothing,” she muttered and tried to step around him.
He wasn’t having it. Hayes put himself in her path again. “Why did you lie?”
“I don’t know, maybe because you were on the ground with blood dribbling out of your mouth and shaking like someone took a mixer to your insides. I didn’t feel that pain, Hayes, I felt yours and mine seemed inconsequential.”
The power of her words nearly knocked him off his feet. To have another care so deeply, it boggled his mind.
“It’s no different than what you did,” she whispered. “You ignored the hell going on inside your body to protect me. I pushed away my discomfort to help you. It’s what people do.”
He waited for her to finish the statement with, “who care about each other,” but she didn’t. Hayes took her hand in his, felt the slight tremble in her fingers. The morning’s events were catching up and crashing down around her.
He led her to the couch, turned her so her back faced him and lifted her silky hair out of the way. Next he pulled the excess material of her sweater down to get a better look at the bruise. The bastard must have hit her with something big to damage her flesh this much. It had to hurt, maybe even bruised the bones.
“What did he strike you with?” So much anger roiled in his gut and brain he could barely speak without roaring with an animal’s voice. He wanted to kill the man, slowly.
“I honestly don’t know. I was running to the door. All I could think of was getting inside to you.”
Hayes closed his eyes and absorbed that agony. She had to be so frightened. He ran his fingers around her soft flesh on the outer edges of the bruise. “He hurt more than your body, darlin’. He damaged your spirit a bit. Don’t let him have that. Only a coward beats what’s weaker than him. Learn some self-defense, how to take him out for good if it ever happens again. Maybe carry a weapon.”
He pushed the other side of her sweater down and found finger marks on her shoulder. He couldn’t stop himself. He leaned down and kissed each dark spot, losing his mind in the feel of her flesh against his lips. Chance gasped and then moaned.
“You have it all wrong,” he told her, trailing kisses over the back of her neck. “I do want you. I want you every second with every breath.” Next he kissed all around the large bruise on her back. “I�
��ve never wanted anyone the way I want you, Chance. Each hour we spend together I find myself dreamin’ of things I have no right to dream.”
“Why can’t you dream?”
“Because I am who I am and nothin’ will change that.” Words he took to heart. He forced himself away from her, covered her naked flesh with her sweater and stood. “Don’t care about me, darlin’, it will only cause you more pain.”
“Is it really me you’re worried about?”
Damn the woman. She saw right through him as if he were nothing more than glass. “Yes, darlin’, I worry about you with every fiber of my bein’.”
* * * * *
Chance hid herself in the barn for another two hours, jumping at every sound, screwing up projects with her shaky hands. Mostly she couldn’t concentrate. One moment she had a mini anxiety episode over Bill and then the next she ached and longed for Hayes while cursing his name.
Frustrated, Chance tossed the metal rod she’d been trying to bend onto her workbench. Some days you simply had to walk away, give yourself a break. It looked as though this would be one of those days. She didn’t want to go into the shop but had to. Maybe she would check on Jenny, see if she needed anything and then take a drive.
Chance closed up the barn, strolled to the house and walked inside. Hayes sat there on her couch staring at the blank television. Was he okay? Did her wish not heal everything? She took a step toward her bedroom and stopped. Damn it, she needed to know if he was okay.
“Are you still feeling better? No pain?”
Without looking at her, he answered. “I’m great.”
His deadpan tone said his body might be healed but he had other issues going on. Join the club. “Good.” Relieved, she went to her bedroom, rummaged through the back of her closet for her money box and pulled out a few bills. After tucking them into her jeans pockets, she shed her work coat and pulled out the casual jacket she picked up at a yard sale.
WhiskeyBottleLover Page 13
