I turned toward Caleb slowly, staring at his back. I’d seen his scars before, kissed them, but Caleb had never let me study them. With his eyes so firmly shut and him taking deep, even breaths, I took advantage of the situation to satisfy my growing curiosity. Even in the dim light, I made out the thick lines crisscrossing his tanned skin. They almost looked like welts, but I could tell they’d been healed for a long time.
Unable to resist, I reached out with my fingertip and traced one from his shoulder to about the middle of his back. He groaned and shifted a little, and I withdrew my hand. I waited a few impatient seconds to see if he woke up, and when he didn’t, I went over the same spot again. The skin was raised by the slightest of degrees and I marveled over how many there were. How did you get these? My curiosity made me bolder and I pressed my palm to his skin letting it travel the length and breadth of his back. There were dozens of the tiny welts. Who did this to you? Is this why you’re the way you are?
Without thinking, I drew closer and pressed my lips to the ill-treated flesh. Caleb was soft, softer than I’d expected him to be given the firmness of him. Tiny, invisible blond hair met my lips and I smiled against his flesh. I’d never been so close to a man as I was to Caleb. Everything with him was a new discovery. Granted, most things I discovered about Caleb were horrible, but sometimes…sometimes I discovered he was soft.
I lingered over his bare skin, scooting closer and enjoying him. He never asked me to touch him anymore. I thought about the time he asked me to touch him. I’d been hesitant at the time. I’d hated him. I was surprised to realize I didn’t hate him so much anymore. I felt so many things toward him, and yes, hate was perhaps among them, but there were others too, far more complex than simple hate.
Caleb planned to sell me. I hated him for that. Everything else? I was shocked to realize I could, perhaps, forgive him. I struggled against the idea every day, at every opportunity, telling myself it would only leave me in ruins…but my heart. My heart, independent of my logic, had reserved a place for my tormentor and my solace.
I was lost in my thoughts, stroking Caleb’s back when he let out a gruff sigh and swatted at his shoulder almost hitting me. I flinched and made a startled sound. Abruptly, he turned and grabbed the hand I had used to touch him. We stared at each other for a bit, my eyes wide and nervous, and his presumably confused and a little angry.
“What are you doing?” he asked suspiciously. He held my hand as if he’d just pulled it from the proverbial cookie jar, and what could I say – I looked the part.
Brazenly, I pulled my hand free and asked, “What happened to your back?” He looked at me as if I’d said something distasteful, and then fell back against his pillow as he expelled a big yawn.
“You know, Kitten, when I first decided to call you that, I didn’t realize how aptly I’d chosen.” He read my perplexed expression and proceeded. “Curiosity killed the cat.” He smiled, but I didn’t think it was too funny.
Jokes about killing me. Yeah – not funny.
“Will you stop asking, if I tell you?” he said. He stretched. I tried not to be distracted by his nearly naked body and the serious case of morning wood he had going.
“Why would I keep asking you if I had the answer?” I said and boldly smiled when he glared at me.
“The better question would be: why do I put up with you?” I knew he meant it to be banter, but all he’d done was thrust our situation into awkward focus. We both knew why he put up with me and the answer was shitty.
I was just about to lie and tell him I wasn’t really curious, but Celia finally came into the room with breakfast. Celia; things were surprisingly not strained between us. She hadn’t been happy Caleb had used her and sent her packing, but the following morning she’d come in, business as usual.
Once, when Caleb hadn’t spent the night and therefore not been in my room the next morning, I spoke to her again. She’d actually seemed a little frightened when I grabbed her arm and asked her just what that smile she’d given me had been about.
“Please don’t be upset with me,” she’d said, and I felt a little snotty and let her go. “He brought me here for you,” she continued. Her expression suggested I was stupid for not knowing – which apparently, I was.
“What do you mean, for me?”
“He cares for you. He cares for you the way I wish my master would care for me,” she said in an almost sad and thoughtful tone. “In a way, I was glad you were jealous – I could see it on your face. It was a nice change from being jealous of you.”