Page 34 of Body Slave

“It’s a bill of sale. I, well, I own you now.”

Despite his determination to set Ben free of obligations, he couldn’t suppress the thrill of the idea that he was Ben’s, if only for a little while. “The master changed his mind about selling me?”

“Yeah. The heart thing proved to be a wake-up call. He needs to slow down, retire. So he made a deal with me. I agreed to take over the business and he gave you to me.”

Before Oliver could find his voice, Ben gave him the whole story. Most of it went over his head, the idea of a condition and not being able to free Oliver for twenty years. He never expected to be freed, so no disappointment there. The mention of Vince McGill froze his blood in terror for a few seconds. Still, when Ben stopped talking to him and sat waiting for Oliver to respond, he steeled his resolve. Mary had been right. As a slave, he had no power in this world, except for this one thing he could do to protect Ben.

“Thank you, sir, for everything you’ve done for me. These last few days in particular have been the best I’ve ever known.” The words choked in his throat for a second before he forced himself to be strong enough to continue. “While I’ll always be grateful for the kindness you’ve shown me, I have to be honest and say you shouldn’t be making this sacrifice for me.” Sneaking a peek, he saw the deep frown on Ben’s face before dropping his gaze once more.

“What are you talking about, Oliver? Why are you being so formal, calling me ‘sir’ and shit? Being my slave is just a legal technicality. I’m still Ben, and nothing’s going to change between us except that we don’t have to slink around and hide how we feel.”

“Feel?” Perverse as it was, he wanted to hear Ben say he loved him, if indeed he did. Just once. It would be something to treasure for the rest of his life.

Ben chuckled. “Yes, feel!” Clasping his hands in his own, Ben brought them up to his lips for a quick kiss. “I love you, Oliver.”

His eyes closed as the confession washed over him, making him feel light and easing all of his aches other than the one in his heart. He wanted to launch himself into Ben’s arms and hold on tight. His new master offered him everything he wanted, love, safety and a secure future. It would be so simple to take it, yet so selfish. He couldn’t do that because he loved Ben, too.

Opening his eyes, he gently tugged his hands back and ignored the hurt in Ben’s eyes. “Love? Really, Master, I’m just a slut.”

“I told you before don’t call yourself that.” Ben retorted, his tone tinged with anger. Good, that might make it easier to chase him away.

Oliver shrugged and looked Ben in the eye. “Why? It’s what I am. And I’m an honest one, too, so I’ll confess I used all of the skills they taught me at the training center to please you. I figured you’d be nicer to me than your father, and I was right. You’ve been real nice, thank you for that. But love?” He shook his head and grimaced. “Forgive me, Master, for saying so—you’re confusing great sex for sentiment. I don’t love you, in any event,” he added for good measure and waited for a blow that never came.

He almost wished Ben had lost his temper and punched him or took him down to the basement for a hard beating. More physical pain would have been infinitely preferable to the agonizing silence that followed. The heat of Ben’s gaze forced Oliver to look away. Finally Ben sighed and stood.

“You know what? I don’t believe you. Okay, maybe you don’t love me. We haven’t known each other long, and being a slave it’s probably hard to see me as anything other than someone who gets to order you around. I’m willing to wait and see how it goes between us. Maybe with time, you’ll come to love me. If not, it’s still okay.”

Oh God, the man was being stubborn! Oliver stood, too, ignoring the screeching pain strumming through his body. “You’re wasting your time and throwing your life away for nothing.”

Crossing his arms, Ben gave him a mulish expression. “I don’t think I am. And anyway, it’s my decision to make, and I’ve already made it. You don’t get a vote on it.”

“Of course not,” Oliver muttered, frustration lacing every word. “I’m only a slave. I have no choice. I just said as much.”

“I didn’t say that exactly.” When Oliver looked at Ben skeptically, he continued. “I meant you don’t have a vote in the decision I’ve made regarding my life. You do have a say in your own, however. Even though you belong to me, I’m not going to make you be my body slave. Oh, you’ll sleep in my bed, all right, but I won’t touch you. I won’t make you touch me, either,” he added. “The choice about whether we continue to build a relationship is entirely up to you. Say the word, and I’m yours. Otherwise, not. No pressure at all.”

Oliver couldn’t help the snort that came out. “You’ll make me sleep with you, but I don’t have to fuck you?”

Ben shrugged. “I want to stack the odds in my favor. I told you, I love you. And I’m betting you love me, too, or will once you’re out from under the power and fear of my father.” His voice softened as he added, “I won’t let anyone hurt you ever again. That’s the vow I make to you and it’s not conditioned on anything.”

As he stared at Ben, Oliver saw the conviction in the man, the determination. Part of him desperately wanted to buckle and accept what he offered. The stronger part rebelled. He had to stand firm. If he resisted Ben and the life he dangled in front of him long enough, eventually the man would change his mind. Nothing was more important than Ben, not Oliver’s life and not Oliver’s happiness, either. He could do this. He could save Ben from himself.

Chapter Eleven

“Pizza’s here.”

Oliver peeked around the door to the closet where he hung clothing. The guy’d been tireless in unpacking all their stuff, well, Ben’s stuff mostly, all day. Ben was glad to have a good excuse to make him stop. Despite Ben’s efforts to treat Oliver as a partner instead of a slave, Oliver refused to act like anything else. He had become irritatingly good in the last few weeks at being quietly rebellious. Ben’s patience had already worn thin, so when he sensed Oliver intended to argue with him, he made like the master the law said he was.

“Now, Oliver. It’s almost eight. We can finish unpacking tomorrow.” He put a little greater emphasis on the we, given how Oliver had been flitting around their new home, trying to get to tasks before Ben did.

“Yes, Master.”

Ben gritted his teeth while he walked back to the dining area. So far, Oliver had resisted all entreaties to use Ben’s first name. The stubborn guy refused to show any familiarity with his new master and Ben refused to make it an order. This battle of wills was part of a larger war of attrition. Somehow Oliver had come to the conclusion that he wasn’t worthy of Ben’s decision to accept his father’s terms for handing over Oliver’s ownership. He didn’t believe Ben really and truly loved him, or worse, that the love was important enough.

Well, Ben could be stubborn, too. He was determined to show Oliver by deed, as well as by word, that he really loved him and no sacrifice was too great. He also took delight in the quick frown marring Oliver’s pretty face when he saw that Ben had already beaten him to setting the table and pouring glasses of iced tea to go with the pizza.

“Have a seat,” he said and he took his own.

That was part of the pattern they’d fallen into; Ben giving Oliver permission for every little thing, like eating, watching television, and going to bed. It was okay, he told himself. Eventually Oliver would become more comfortable with his new life and settle into a more natural rhythm. Hopefully that would include his sliding over to Ben’s side of the bed at some point. Nighttime had become its own special kind of hell with the two of them sleeping together without any physical contact.

---