Free Comforting Touch (Touch #5) by Cara Dee Page A

arm's length.
    Of course I want it to be Rio Kelly. I ache for it.
    "I'm still a little dazed about all this," he says out of nowhere. "Having you in my bed…" The corners of his mouth twist up a little. "It was too farfetched to think we'd end up here."
    I can see how he'd feel that way. Being thirty years old and stumbling on to a sixteen-year-old little shit wouldn’t make anyone consider a future together with whips and chains.
    Time has changed things, though.
    "Will you treat me like a plague again?" That’s really all I need to know before this night is over.
    "God no, baby." He sits up and hugs me tightly, dropping a soft kiss on the spot behind my ear. "I can't apologize enough for my reaction to your moving here. I was shocked, angry, and confused—and I have some shit I still have to work through." Grasping my chin, he makes me face him. "But I won't avoid you."
    I can't describe how relieved I am. Locking my arms around his neck, I squeeze him back and close my eyes against the emotion threatening to surface.
    "You changed your mind fast." I guess I'm still worried about that—if only a little. He's explained that seeing me at Switch and then Dante telling him I was coming to the party made Rio realize that I'm part of this community now. He said he needed to accept that and make the most of things, but is that all? And is he reluctant about it?
    Feels like he can't be too reluctant, considering how quickly he bought me at tonight's slave auction. Not to mention where we are right now.
    "It was more about caving." He brushes his lips along my shoulder. "I'll tell you all about it one day. But now I think we need sleep."
    That totally gives me reason to voice one more curiosity. "Here or in the slave quarters? I mean, it's where Miranda is…"
    What makes me different? is what I'm really asking.
    "Too cute." He rumbles a sleepy chuckle and lies down again. He brings me with him and kisses the top of my head, his arms snaking around me to keep me on top of him. As if I'd leave voluntarily .
    Rio doesn’t offer any other response.
    *
    The next morning, disappointment settles over me for a brief moment when I wake up alone in bed. But then I see a note on Rio's pillow.
    Good morning, little rebel. I'm out on my morning run, but I will be back soon. I hope to find you waiting for me in the bathtub.
    I smile giddily and squeal into the pillow. I'm so silly, but I don’t care. I want this with Rio, and that means I gotta suck it up and find the courage to be up-front about everything. My intentions and wishes, my past, and even my, um, innocent Facebook-stalker tendencies.
    Maybe he'll take a chance on me, and that note doesn’t do anything to deflate my hope.
    Jumping outta the bed, I practically skip into the ensuite bathroom. As I wait for the tub to fill up, I survey my naked body in the mirror. A shiver runs down my spine, my fingers brushing along some of the bruises and welts Rio left behind.
    Faint shades of blue, red, and purple decorate my skin, along with the fading henna. I almost wanna take a picture of his marks on me, but I'll settle for the dull throb and ache they've left behind, plus the wish for more some day.
    That’s not to say I always want to get beaten—far, far from it. My nature lies in servitude and worship, but every now and then, there's nothing like the fiery pain of physical sadism.
    Wanting to please Rio as much as he's pleased me, I leave the bathroom, walk through his bedroom, and tiptoe out in the hallway. I can hear voices from downstairs, possibly Dante and Gretchen. Maybe even Dylan? And Miranda? I can't be sure, but if I could just sneak downstairs and maybe get Rio some coffee, perhaps some fruit—anything; the paper?—to show I'd love to go the extra mile for him, I'd feel better.
    I close the door behind me again and scan the bedroom, my eyes lighting up in triumph when I spot my bag in the chair by the window. Dante must've brought it for me before he took off last