AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Master Giacomo smiled gently down at her. “Do up your blouse. We shall hurry to the library.”
She scrambled to her feet, quickly buttoned her blouse, dusted off her skirt then tugged both blouse and skirt into their proper positions. She glanced at her watch. They weren’t late, yet. But they weren’t going to be early either.
Cutting down the side roads less likely to be congested, she hurried to the sweeping structure of tinted glass and steel that was the city’s library. She tried telling Master Giacomo everything he’d need to know in order to use the library terminals to access the Internet but he was more interested in playing with the automatic door locks, automatic windows and dashboard controls than in listening to her.
“I’m trying to help you. Pay attention,” she snapped.
He turned to look at her, one eyebrow raised. “I am not ignoring you, mia tesora. But you explain too much. You have given me your card. I will go inside and ask the librarian for assistance. That is all I need to know.”
“But you need to know how to swipe the library card and type in the password—”
“No. You forget how much has changed in the years I have been away. I had secretaries who did all my typing for me. So I will need far more help than you can give me to find all the necessary keys and demonstrate a click and double-click.”
“I suppose I could go in with you and show you.”
“I delayed you once already. There is no need to make you late when it is the librarian’s job to assist patrons.”
She pulled into the parking lot, stopping in the loading area in front of the main doors and cut the engine. “Really, I don’t mind.”
“I do.” He brushed her cheek with his fingertips then unclasped his seat belt and opened his door. “It is important for you to be needed, to be allowed to help others. But your desire to help overwhelms your self-preservation. As your Master, it is my job to prioritize for you when your emotions render you unable to think clearly. You have a prior obligation. I will be here when you return.”
He got out of the car, closing the door on any possible protest then walked into the library without a backward glance. She frowned, cranky and out of sorts. Objectively she knew he was doing the right thing. Her mother was relying on Sam to pick her up after her hair appointment, to take her to lunch and to take her shopping for Toby’s toy. Master Giacomo would be fine on his own for a few hours.
Sam threw the car into drive and punched the accelerator, looping around the lot and back onto the road with total disregard for the lot’s striping. Master Giacomo was right. He didn’t really need her, not for this. He could find out the details of what had happened to his family and friends after his death without her.
But she wanted him to need her for more than just technical assistance. Whatever he found would likely shock him, much as his first exposure to a modern news broadcast had. She’d helped him cope with that and she wanted him to turn to her for help now.
Stopped at a light, Sam beat her forehead against the steering wheel. Stupid, stupid, stupid! She was falling for him.
It was easy to see why. He was gorgeous, intelligent and single-mindedly devoted to giving her the ultimate orgasm. He pushed all of her buttons with his dominant strength and control wedded to the incontrovertible need that arose from his strange condition.
She pulled forward at the green light, her teeth clenched and her fingers white on the wheel. He needed her, all right. For sex. To get his life back. But he didn’t need her. Anyone who summoned him from the book would have done equally well.
Her breasts ached from the unfamiliar use he’d just put them to. And he had used them, used her, to prove a point. She was his willing slave. Whatever he asked of her, she would do. Whatever he wanted, she would give.
But she feared that what he wanted most was his freedom. Once he’d given her the ultimate sexual pleasure and his life was restored to him, he would have no more need of her. He might even view her as a distasteful reminder of his former weakness, his own slavery to the mystic power that had stolen him away to the half-life he’d existed in since 1967, and be in even more of a hurry to leave her.
Somehow she managed to make it to the beauty salon before her mother was finished. It helped that the stylist was running late. But when her mother tottered to the waiting room on the stylist’s arm, Sam was seated in one of the plastic and vinyl chairs, leafing through a style magazine.
“…after sitting for so long. You understand,” her mother was telling the stylist.
“Of course, Mrs. Taylor. Don’t you worry about it.”
Sam hopped up and took her accustomed place at her mother’s side. As expected, her mother transferred her grip from the stylist’s arm to Sam’s.
The physical therapist insisted that there was nothing wrong with her mother’s legs and spine that exercise and attention to balance couldn’t cure. Her initial fracture had healed cleanly and completely. But the blow to her mother’s confidence hadn’t. She should be able to walk, garden and drive with no assistance. Instead she relied upon Sam to help her with everything. Given how badly she’d let the house deteriorate after the death of Sam’s father, Sam was afraid to leave her alone to fend for herself.
Sam waited patiently while her mother counted out the money for the stylist. Both Master Giacomo and her mother needed her, but for the wrong reasons. Master Giacomo needed her because she’d been the submissive who read the book who called him back to the world of the living. Her mother needed her because the bonds of family ensured she would care for her and the lack of a family of her own meant she could care for her 24/7.
They needed her because of what she was. Not because of who she was.
The situation sucked.
Still dwelling on the unfairness of it all, Sam escorted her mother to the deli where they routinely ate lunch after visiting the salon. As they both sat picking at their sandwiches, Sam realized her mother wasn’t prattling on about the latest gossip as usual.
“Mom? Is something wrong?” She dropped her sandwich to the plate. “Did tipping back in the chair hurt your back?”
Her mother smiled reassuringly. “No. I’m just tired.”
