“You’ve pulled away from me, hon. Don’t deny it. I can feel it.”
“What you two have is private between you.” She picked at her fingernails. “I’ll get another job and save money so I can move out and get my own car once this mess with Bryan is sorted out. Then you guys can get back to normal without worrying about me.”
His heart dropped. He stepped over to her and gently grabbed her wrists. “Clarisse, you can’t leave us. Please.” His desperation reflected back to him in the sunglasses. She couldn’t leave. He couldn’t—wouldn’t—let her. He had to protect her.
The way he’d failed to protect Betsy.
“Mac, I’m cramping your lifestyle. You shouldn’t have to hide who you guys are because of me. It’s not fair to you.”
“Would you please promise to stay at least six months? See how it is between Master and me. You’ll understand better. You haven’t seen us together the way we normally are.”
“You can’t be together the way you normally are with me around.”
He released her wrists. She was right.
“You promise me at least six months, and Master and I will show you how we normally are. You’ll see it’s okay. Please?”
Clarisse stared at him, grateful for the minimal shield the dark sunglasses offered. Mac was so sweet, how could she stand watching Sully beat him?
Realistically, how would she take care of herself?
Six months. If she could tolerate years of Bryan’s verbal, mental, and emotional abuse, she could deal with six months of retreating to her room when the two men did whatever it was they did. It’s not like they’d be doing any of it to her.
Six months to get her shit together.
“Okay. Six months.”
He threw his arms around her and hugged her tightly to him. She wouldn’t deny that felt nice, comforting. More than a brother or friend.
Clarisse sat back, not wanting to follow that mental trail.
“Thank you, sweetie,” he said. “You won’t regret it. You’ll see, at the end of six months you’ll feel like part of the family. You won’t want to leave.
That’s what I’m afraid of.
Sully closed his eyes and let his mind drift as the car drove him home from the airport. His leg hurt like a son of a bitch. He hadn’t taken his cane or his heavier pain meds with him, not needing either in months, but the weekend had been long and exhausting with a lot more time spent on his feet than expected.
He rubbed his hand over his left thigh, just above his knee, and tried to massage the ache. He couldn’t wait to get home, fall into bed, and let Mac work over his muscles with his talented hands.
He wondered how the weekend had gone for Clarisse. He hadn’t called, knowing with them out on the boat that Mac’s cell probably would be out of range anyway. If there’d been any emergencies, Mac would have used the satellite phone to call him, even from the water.
As his leg throbbed, he tried to distract himself with other thoughts. By the time the car dropped him at home a little after midnight, he felt nearly sick from the pain. He pulled himself up the stairs and left his bags inside the front door for Mac to take care of in the morning.
He rummaged through the kitchen cabinet for the bottle of OxyContin, relieved to see he still had eight left. He took one, swallowing it with a glass of water.
“Master?” Mac stood in the kitchen doorway, naked except for his collar. When he spotted the bottle of pain pills on the counter, his face turned worried. “Are you okay?”
Sully shook his head. “A lot of pain. Help me to bed, please.”
Mac swooped in, slipping his arm around Sully’s waist, draping Sully’s arm around his shoulders. He carefully helped him limp into their room and gently lowered him to their bed. He knelt in front of him and removed Sully’s shoes.
“How long have you been hurting?”
“I woke up this morning and limped into the shower, stood there until I could walk again. I’ve been eating Tylenol all day. I haven’t hurt this bad in months.”
“Lie down.”
Sully did. Mac helped him slide his slacks off, then retrieved a tube of ointment from the bathroom. He worked it into Sully’s left leg, his fingers knowing exactly what muscles to focus on, where to press, where to rub.
Sully grunted both in pain and relief as Mac’s attention, in combination with the drugs, started to relieve the worst of the pain.
“Is that helping, Master?”
Sully’s eyes closed. “Yeah. Don’t stop.”
Mac worked on his leg for nearly half an hour. Sully unbuttoned his shirt as he lay there with his eyes closed and tried to hold on until the pain diminished enough for him to move again.
“You need to take it easy this week, Master. Should I call the doctor?”
“No. He’ll want to put me back in physical therapy. I overdid it and didn’t take my cane. I’ve spent too much time sitting at my desk instead of working out.” He cracked open an eyelid. “How’s Clarisse?”
Mac’s hands hesitated for a moment. “She’s okay.”
He propped himself on his elbows despite the pain it caused.
“Slave.”
Mac sighed and related the conversation. Sully lowered himself to the bed, silently swearing. He hadn’t left Mac with any explicit instructions, hadn’t considered them necessary. He wouldn’t punish him for telling her the truth, but he suspected what little trust Clarisse had gained in him sailed overboard at the revelation.
“Master?”
“It’s okay. You did the right thing to tell her the truth.”
“Why doesn’t it feel okay?”
“It’s okay.” Mac lifted Sully’s leg, helping him flex at the hip and knee. “That really helped, thank you.”
Mac helped him sit and remove his shirt. “Do you want the heating pad?”
“Might not be a bad idea.” The drugs started to take hold in his system. He hated using them, but under the circumstances, he’d make an exception.
Mac got him situated, propped himself with a few pillows to read, and tucked his body against Sully’s to hold Sully in a comfortable position. Sully knew Mac would stay up, waiting until after he’d fallen asleep so he could put away the heating pad to prevent him from getting burned.
As Sully drifted into sleep, he realized he’d forgotten to go through their usual greeting routine, the pain taking precedent. He drowsily reached back and patted Mac’s thigh. “Thank you, Brant.”
Mac kissed his forehead. “You’re always welcome, Master.”
Chapter Ten
Sully awoke in pain early the next morning, but not as bad as he’d felt the night before. Mac was already out of bed, but had left the heating pad on the mattress where he could reach it. Sully grabbed it, turned it on, and wrapped it around his thigh.
Fucking leg. Then again, he should consider himself lucky he still had a leg. The bullet had shattered it above the knee. He supposed some pain on occasion was a small price to pay.
But dammit, he hated paying it.
Mac walked in with his coffee, a glass of water, and a pain pill.
“You’ll want this, Master.” He handed him the water and the pill.
Sully nodded, no arguments. He needed to get on top of the pain sooner rather than later. He could spend the rest of the day on over-the-counter pain meds if he knocked the pain back now. After this kicked in, Mac would draw him a hot bath to soak in and work on his leg to loosen the muscles.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t go through our routine last night,” Sully apologized.
Mac smiled. “It’s okay, Master. No infractions.”
Sully realized Mac was naked. “Where’s your clothes?”