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must have got by on sheer determination. He just didn’t have the mass, or apparently the diet, to have enough energy to heft over fifty-pound cases five days out of the week.
    Then again, Lucas supposed one could do almost anything if it meant escaping the hell that had been Kyle’s life thus far.
    He carried the man back to his bedroom and tucked him under the covers once again. “I’m a light sleeper, so if you need anything else, just call for me.” Turning to leave, he was stopped by a surprisingly strong hand on his wrist.
    “Please don’t go.” Deep green eyes glinted in the dim glow of the lamp on the nightstand, shadowed more with fear than by the dark bruises encircling them. Lucas eyed the empty spot on the bed beside Kyle then let his gaze wander down the man’s hidden body. He knew what lay beneath the covers—had explored every inch of it during his ministrations. He also knew that keeping his libido in check would be no small feat. It was the shimmer of trust shining through Kyle’s desperation, however, that undid him.
    Pulling the covers back, he stretched his length between the sheets, leaving several inches of space between them. Without hesitation, Kyle snuggled closer, burying his face in Lucas’ neck and curling his hand under his chin. Lucas stiffened as hot breath fanned across his clavicles and warmth permeated his right side through the thin layer of the shirt Kyle was wearing. My shirt . For the first time in his life, he was experiencing what he imagined felt like intimacy…and it felt good.
    Right.
    The vibrations of soft snores tickled his chest less than a minute later and he willed his body to relax. Kyle was scared, that was all, and probably had nightmares. If Lucas could help keep those at bay with mere touch, then he would. The wall of solitude he’d built around his heart since childhood was still intact…and would be long after Kyle found the strength to move on with his life.

Chapter Three

    The next several days passed by at a lazy pace. Kyle had never felt more relaxed, more safe—or more confused—in his entire life. Over the course of the six months he’d worked for Lucas, he had gradually grown comfortable with looking people in the eye after being restricted from that act for so many years at Craig’s house. In the privacy of Lucas’ home, though, he often forgot that he had that freedom with the quiet man. It wasn’t that he compared his boss to his former boyfriend. It was rather that living with him felt intimate, in a way. Like a relationship.
    He was also having trouble differentiating his desires from his fears. He found that he wanted to do many of the things for Lucas that he had done for Craig. When Lucas had deemed him fit enough to cook, clean and sit at the bed to help with paperwork, Kyle had found himself delighting in the praises the man would bestow upon him. They were few and often delivered in clipped, cool tones, but they made his stomach flutter and encouraged him to improve every time.
    Most of them were the same chores he’d done at Craig’s house, which had also been done out of a desire to please. He soon realised he’d enjoyed doing these things for years. Maybe not the work itself, but because making another happy made him happy. Did that mean it was possible he hadn’t tried hard enough to get away from Craig because he’d secretly enjoyed the humiliation and abuse that also came with his former relationship? He hadn’t thought that he liked it, and yet he couldn’t shake the yearning to please Lucas any way he could, just as he had tried to do for Craig.
    He’d seen similar cases on television shows, on those rare occasions when he’d been allowed to watch TV. He had learned to live with pain just as the victims on the shows had. They’d spoken of how, when given the chance to escape it, they preferred to stay. When asked why, they’d said it was because they loved their partner and were too afraid to live without them,