What They Call Sin

by Philippa Grey-Gerou

  With the last shred of rational thought he possessed, he snatched a handful of tissues off the desk to spend into, each spurt a burning streak of ecstasy.

  They lay together after, several miles apart, just listening to each other's breathing and the breathless, wordless voicings of drowsy tranquility.

  "Pet, you never stop surprising me,” he murmured finally. “That was brilliant."

  "Yeah,” she agreed, still out of breath. “Worth whatever you have in mind for me tonight."

  "Don't think I could hold this against you. Don't want to deter your creativity."

  "Mmm.” He could almost hear her stretching. “You could hold it against me a little bit..."

  He chuckled, closing up his pants and tossing the tissues into the trash. “I will. I'll hold it against you as long as you want."

  She purred happily. “I should probably get dressed. And aren't you supposed to be in a meeting?"

  "Yeah, I just keep getting these distracting phone calls."

  "Gripe gripe gripe.” She paused. “I think I need to get a heater in here. My nipples are as hard as rocks from the chill."

  "Don't you start, miss. I'll be down there at four thirty to get them all warmed up for you. We haven't broken in that bed yet."

  "It's awfully small."

  "Keep you from gettin’ away from me."

  "And why would I want to?"

  "I'll see you after four, love."

  "Kay. Bring home dinner!” And she disconnected.

  Home. He liked the sound of that. He knew she didn't mean it the way he was taking it, but it was true nonetheless. She was his home.

  He stalked back into the conference room and dropped bonelessly into his chair. “So, where are we now, gents?"

  Chapter 26

  Rogue sat at his desk, flipping through the small leather chat book Lindy had presented to him with a wicked grin the night before. The little photo album contained doubles made of all the pictures from their modeling session the previous week. “I had to take them to a private developer to get them printed,” she explained. “Even so, you should have seen the looks I got when I picked them up!"

  He skimmed over the photos of himself, although he did stop in surprise at a few of them. That couldn't be him. He looked so strong and confident and ... male. He knew he was a sexy thing, but to actually look that in the face and not from his own imagination was startling.

  But he was more interested in the pictures of her. He was grateful his rudimentary photography skills hadn't let him down. Some of the photos were pure Playboy soft porn, some just simple candids, but they all seemed to capture a piece of her.

  His favorite was one of her sitting in the middle of the studio rug, leaning back on her hands with one knee raised. He remembered telling her the most outrageous jokes and horrible limericks until she was laughing hysterically, and he had captured the youthful joy on her face. He loved seeing her happy. And naked.

  He wasn't going to get to see her tonight. Tuesdays rolled around much too fast. But it was better than the alternative that was growing closer and closer. He didn't know how he was going to manage when he went home, couldn't even see her anymore. She was too vital a part of his life. He felt empty even thinking about it. At least he had these pictures to hold onto. And the memories.

  His office door opened to reveal Gabriel, a fistful of documents in his hand. “I've got the final approvals on the project,” Gabriel said without greeting. “You need to sign off on them before the first implementation meeting on Thursday.” He dropped the sheaf of papers on the desk.

  Rogue slipped the little album into his desk drawer and started looking through the paperwork. “Did you get the patent assessment issue straightened out?"

  "It's all in there."

  "Alright, I'll go through it tonight. I'll have them by the end of business tomorrow. I'm taking some personal time in the morning."

  Gabriel stopped, his hand on the knob. “Whatever. Have fun knocking boots with my wife. Just get those signed.” And he was gone.

  It took Rogue a moment to register what he had said.

  Without breathing, without seeing, fear flaming through his body, he went after Gabriel, catching up to him in his office down the hall.

  "Was there something I forgot?” Gabriel leaned back in his leather chair, steepling his fingers.

  "What did you say?"

  "What, did I use too many words? Let me do it in five words or less.” And he counted them down with his fingers. “Enjoy fucking my wife. Jackass."

  The look of shock on Rogue's face must have amused Gabriel, because he laughed. “What, did you two think you were being discreet? Please! Half the office knows what you're up to. Mr. Perfect Attendance suddenly starts missing hours of work? Lindy hanging out with Kathleen Fallon, of all people? And picking up her art again? Right, like that's had any interest for her in years. But the studio's a convenient little love nest, away from prying eyes. Unlike the hotel. If you're going to have an affair, you could at least try to be careful. I'm not stupid. Just supremely indifferent."

  Rogue's fists clenched and opened. “You don't care."

  "Frankly, I don't. If I'd wanted loyalty, I'd have gotten a dog. She brought something else to our marriage, an appearance of respectability, a beautiful face over a pliant personality that made my career advancement easier. Don't tell me you haven't noticed it, Rogue? How easily she shapes herself to please whoever she's with? Makes a man feel special, doesn't it? Powerful. Like he's in charge."

  "You're a cold hearted son of a bitch,” Rogue spat.

  "Poor Rogue, I see it all now. Did you think you could use her to get to me?” He rose from the chair to stalk menacingly around the desk. “Think you'd seduce my wife the way I did yours, then show me the evidence and bring me crashing to my knees? And now your little plot is all broken because I don't care if she sleeps with you. Well, I might have hoped she'd have better taste in her first lover. Oh, well."

  "Shut up."

  "Actually, I probably should thank you. I never really had the time or the inclination to educate her properly. Aside from popping her cherry, she really hasn't brought me much pleasure in bed. You've done a great job with her. I especially like her mouth work. She's turned into quite the talented little cocksucker..."

  Every ounce of power and rage Rogue possessed went into that punch. Gabriel flew off his feet, knocked backwards by the force of the blow to bounce off the hardwood coffee table behind him before crashing to the floor. Every urge in Rogue's brain screamed at him, demanded that he finish the job of pounding his enemy into a pulpy, bloody mass. “Don't you ever talk about her like that. Or I'll kill you."

  Gabriel propped himself up on one hand, reaching up with the other to wipe gingerly at the blood gushing down over his lips and chin. He studied the scarlet smears on his fingertips, then looked at Rogue. “You miss the point, Rogue,” he said in a deadly monotone, sarcastic emphasis only on the name. “She's my wife. Bought and paid for. I can do whatever I want, with her, for her and to her. You're just her fuck toy. You have no say over her.” He paused, his eyes narrowing over a wolfish smile. “But you know what? I can be a generous man. Go ahead, Rogue. Bang her as much as you want, at least until you're gone. You have my blessing."

  "Why you...” Rogue lunged at him.

  "Oh my god! What happened?” Caroline, apparently summoned by the crash, rushed into the room.

  Rogue was frustrated, denied the physical relief of hitting Gabriel again. “This isn't done."

  "What are you going to do? Take her away from me?” Gabriel scoffed. “She's a good girl. And good girls don't leave. Unless she's not such a good girl anymore. What do you think, Rogue? Is Lindy still a good girl?"

  Howling in impotent rage, Rogue stormed out of the office.

  Panic and rage fought for pride of place in his mind as he slammed his own door shut. His hatred for Gabriel grew moment by moment. He knew the man was a heartless, selfish son of a bitch, but Rogue ne
ver would have thought he would be so cruel and cavalier towards his own wife.

  God, what would the bastard do to her? Now that their relationship was out in the open, would he use it to control her? Humiliate her? Was he even telling the truth about not caring, and would he want to punish her now?

  He snatched up the phone and dialed quickly.

  The first ring brought him to his senses. What could he possibly tell her? Not to go home because her husband might beat her up? That Gabriel knew, but it was okay, they didn't need to change anything?

  Before he could hang up to think this through, the ringing was interrupted by her eager, “Hello?"

  He hesitated, trying to decide to disconnect. But he couldn't. “Hey there, pet."

  "Michael!” He could hear the smile in her voice. “I was hoping it was you."

  "Had to call and check in on my best girl.” Needed my touchstone to bring me back to ground.

  "I'm glad you called. I was missing you."

  God, love, if you knew what I've done. “Miss you, too. You working?"

  "Fine tuning a couple of sketches."

  "Did you get your portfolio updated like I told you to?"

  "I just have to add these when I finish them. What's this about?"

  "Told you. I want to introduce you to someone tomorrow, and she's going to want to see your work.” He began randomly adding his signature to each document in front of him without reading them over first.

  "Well, I won't let you down."

  Don't tell me you haven't noticed it, Rogue? How easily she shapes herself to please whoever she's with?

  "You couldn't if you tried. I...” I love you. Come away with me, let me take you away from him and love you the way you deserve. “I'll meet you there at the studio. Around 9:30?"

  "I can't wait."

  "Lindy, if anything ... odd happens tonight,” if your husband rapes you, or beats you, or insults and humiliates you, “promise you'll call me?” Let me save you from the things I can't protect you from.

  She chuckled. “Only if you promise to be able to tell the phone from the sparrows this time."

  "No drinking, I swear.” Alcohol's not going to wash this pain away.

  "Alright then, if I need you, I'll call. Scout's honor."

  "Bet you were a right fetching little Guide."

  "We call them Girl Scouts over here. And I was very cute. Especially in the short little skirts."

  God. You're so happy and playful. How could I ruin you the way I have? “Maybe you'll show me sometime."

  "Maybe."

  "Well.” Don't hang up. As long as you're on the phone, I know you're safe. “You should get back to it to be ready for tomorrow."

  "Yeah. I think you're really going to like it, though!"

  "I know I will.” Haven't found anything about you yet that I don't cherish.

  "I'll see you in the morning."

  "Yeah.” If you still want me. If you don't hate me.

  "Bye."

  "Bye."

  He held the phone long after she'd hung up, until the automated voice came on to advise him that if he wanted to make a call, he should please hang up and try again.

  Chapter 27

  When the door buzzer sounded in the studio, Lindy grabbed up her coat, purse and portfolio case, punching the intercom on her way out. “I'm on my way!"

  She dashed down the four flights of stairs, throwing her coat on as she went, and pushed through the heavy steel door to find Michael pacing the alley like a caged animal. She thought she saw panic in his eyes for an instant before he crushed her in his arms, kissing her as though he hadn't seen her in weeks. She dropped her bags and threw herself eagerly into the kiss, allowing her now-free hands to stroke over his shoulders and neck and down through the inside of his coat to toy with the solid muscles there. His hands, too, were busy, exploring every inch of her, pausing barely a moment before moving on, as though he were inspecting her. She reveled in the attention, quelling her loneliness in his passion.

  When he finally lifted his head, he looked dazed.

  She grinned happily and pulled his head down to rest on her forehead. “I missed you, too."

  He smiled softly. “You got that, did you?"

  "Just a bit. Are you alright?"

  "I'm fine now.” He gathered her close, and she rested her head on his chest, listening to his heart's rapid beat. “Just had bad dreams last night. All gone now that the sun's up.” He nuzzled the top of her head. “How was your night?"

  "Lonely."

  "Not sure that husband of yours would appreciate having his company valued so lightly."

  "He didn't come home last night."

  "He didn't?” Michael pulled back to look at her.

  She shook her head. “He called and said he'd be home late. He still hadn't gotten back when I went to bed a midnight, and he wasn't there when I woke up. I called the office before I came down, and he said he'd been there all night."

  His expression grew troubled. “I'm sorry I couldn't be there to take care of you."

  She smiled and kissed him lightly. “You're sweet. But I was fine. Except for worrying about today."

  He picked up her portfolio and handed her purse to her before slinging his arm around her shoulder to guide her towards Hudson Street. “You haven't got a thing to fret, love. You two are going to get on like a house afire."

  "Do I get any hints?” she asked as they turned onto Hudson and began walking south.

  "It's not a secret. Remember I told you I have a friend in the art business?” When she nodded, he continued. “Well, I want you to meet her. If you're going to get back into your art, you're going to have to start making connections locally."

  She watched his face as he spoke, saw something softer in his eyes. “That's not the only reason, is it?” she asked gently.

  He turned his head to meet her eyes, then shrugged slightly. “She's a very special lady, and one of my best friends on this side of the pond. Anywhere, actually. So I want you to meet her."

  "And I'm not supposed to worry? God, Michael, you make it sound like you're taking me home to meet your family!"

  He laughed and gave her a comforting squeeze. “She's going to love you, pet. No worries."

  They crossed over Canal Street and into the Tribeca section, a mish mash of arts, manufacturing and financial businesses bounded by Canal Street, Broadway and the Hudson River and ending just north of the remains of World Trade. They continued on in companionable silence for several more blocks before turning right onto Reade Street. A former industrial block turned commercial, the buildings all still bore a utilitarian stamp despite the come-hither windows.

  The door he led her to was part of a glass front, the framing all painted black and the name Yggdrasil stenciled in gold leaf on the front window, which currently displayed a photographic collection. He winked at her as he pressed the buzzer. A moment later, a young but professional sounding voice came over the intercom. “I'm sorry, but the gallery doesn't open until eleven."

  He punched the intercom button. “Open up, pet, it's Rogue."

  "Oh, hey! Come on in.” And the door buzzed.

  Michael held the door for Lindy as he guided her inside. A moment later, they were joined by a strawberry-haired young woman who stood several inches taller than Lindy but looked to be at least five years her junior. “Hey there, handsome! I wasn't sure if we were going to see you again before you went home."

  "Wouldn't dream of leaving without sayin’ goodbye to the harem.” He took her hands and kissed the cheek she offered chastely. “How goes the semester?"

  "Ugh,” she replied succinctly.

  He grinned, then turned to Lindy. “Sarah, I'd like you to meet Lindy James. Lindy, this is Sarah Keyes. Sarah is the gopher and general dog's body around here."

  Lindy extended her hand. “Pleased to meet you."

  Sarah shook it, strongly but quickly. “Same here. I hate to rush off, but Carey just put his hammer through the drywall, so I
am off in search of spackle to save his opening tomorrow. It's a good thing he's an artist and not a builder. The man is a menace with a hammer in his hand.” She headed backwards towards the door. “Boss lady is in the office. Don't you dare leave without a proper goodbye!” And she was gone.

  "Sarah's an art student at NYU,” Michael explained as he led Lindy through the gallery to the back. “She's been working here almost since she started there. Sometimes I feel like I've watched her grow up here."

  A part of Lindy wanted to be jealous of the girl, but she couldn't, not really. Seeing Sarah was almost like looking through a lens back at her own life. Sarah stood at the point Lindy had been at when she met Gabriel and her life went off in such a different direction than she had planned. She felt a certain kinship with the girl, a wistful touch of the “what if".

  The entrance to the back office was covered in rough, heavy silk, swagged back behind a celestial tieback to reveal the office behind. Michael escorted her in as the young woman behind the desk hung up the phone and rose from the chair. “Rogue!” Her soft face lit up as she came around the desk to hug him. “I haven't heard from you in weeks! I was worried you'd gone home without saying goodbye."

  "Never happen, dearest.” He hugged her back closely, and this time Lindy did feel a little tremble of jealousy. “I've just been puttin’ my time to better use than waiting for you to see I'm worth giving up girls for. Diana, I'd like you to meet Lindy James. Lindy, this is Diana Simms."

  Lindy offered her hand hesitantly. “I'm glad to meet you. Michael's been dropping hints about you for a while now."

  "Michael?” Diana took Lindy's hand, but raised her eyebrows at Michael. He shrugged, and Lindy could swear he blushed a bit. “I'm pleased to meet you, too.” She smiled and covered their hands in her other one. “Rogue said on the phone that you are an artist? And your mother owns a gallery?"

  Lindy nodded. “Her clientele is more interested in collecting older works than investing in new artists, though. Mostly cultural artifacts. Native American art, pre-Columbian sculpture and the like."

  "Well, let me give you the tour.” Diana drew Lindy's arm through hers. “I'd be interested to see what you think."