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He jerks his head around, his eyes narrowed. “You remember that?”
“Vaguely,” I reply, taken aback by his intensity. “You said you were going to check the property.”
He smiles. “I think I’ll have some of that breakfast now.”
But I’m not fooled as he slowly stands and goes into the kitchen. Despite his smile, he isn’t moving like himself. He holds himself differently, stiffer, and I’ve never seen him move so hesitantly. Almost like—
“Are you hurt?”
“It’s nothing serious.” He sits down and picks up his fork, as if he told me his favorite football team scored a touchdown. “I have an idea I want to explore in the next few days. It’ll make me feel better when you’re here by yourself.”
“How did you get hurt?”
“Have you ever had any self-defense classes?”
“Charlie!” He arches a brow at me for raising my voice, but I don’t care. I slip out of my chair and kneel beside him, running my hands up his jean-clad thighs. “How did you get hurt?”
He sets his fork down and flattens his palms on the table. His eyes close, surrounded by dark circles. His lashes are dark against his pale cheeks.
The T-shirt. He never sleeps in a shirt. Lightly, I brush my fingertips up his sides, and though I barely touch him, he can’t hide the flinch. His right side. I push his shirt up to reveal a large bandage taped to his skin. Hands shaking, I’m afraid to touch him, afraid to hurt him.
“I found Tasker last night.” Charlie shrugs, though it must hurt. “He fights dirty. But not as dirty as me.”
“Did you go to the hospital? Without me?”
He leans back in his chair, a catch in his breath telling me even a slight movement causes him pain. But he keeps his palms on the table. “Of course not. It’s just a nick. I cleaned it, put a couple of staples in, and bandaged it. I’ll be right as rain in a day or two.”
Right as rain. That saying has never made sense to me. Drizzling, overcast, gray, chilly, gloomy. Not right.
“You put staples in. Yourself.”
He shrugs again but still doesn’t look directly at me. “No big deal when you’ve had the kind of experience I’ve had over the years. Really, it’s nothing to worry about.”
His hands tremble on the table, a slight tremor, but I don’t miss it. I’ll never miss the way he moves or holds his body. I’m too attuned to my Master’s every single gesture, whether intentional or unconscious. “You’re hurting.”
“On a scale of one to ten, I’m about a four. I took a few ibuprofen when I got up. That’ll be enough to dull it a bit.”
Why can’t he look at me? Why didn’t he touch me? At all? I’ve never seen him so withdrawn and distant, as though he isn’t even here. Not in spirit, at least. I want him, here and present, his strength around me, his skin against me. I want his calm, powerful energy bathing my senses. Not this bleak, empty man with Charlie’s smile but not his light or spark. I don’t know how to bring him back.
Distraught, I press my cheek against the bandage. His breath rushes out in a groan, even though I’m careful not to press on the wound. He doesn’t move or say anything, but the front of his jeans bulge, growing by the moment. His breathing quickens.
And now I know.
Charlie is a sadist with a taste for blood. Pain and blood, a volatile combination. Even his own pain would drive him crazy with lust. And being the kind, caring Master that he is, he’s trying desperately to avoid exposing me to that danger.
Because it is dangerous. We haven’t indulged in heavy play since Christmas Eve. Neither of us has needed to feed that beast.
But it certainly roars to be fed now, even if he isn’t willing to indulge because he wants to protect me.
I turn my head slightly so I can brush my lips across his ribs, across the breadth of the bandage, to skin again. Soft, gentle, warm kisses.
“Ranay.” His voice vibrates with just enough threat to make me moan in response. “This is a bad idea.”
I trail my tongue over the tape, making sure to overlap with his skin so he’ll know what I’m doing. One corner is loose enough that I can grip it in my teeth. I tug a little, enough to make him feel the stretching of his skin.
One big hand clamps on my nape, fingers tangling in my hair. He jerks me away, palming the back of my head.
I lick my lips and his fingers tighten so hard I wince.
