“I’ll call le prêtre.” Kingsley started to rise off the floor.
Nora pulled her mind out of the past.
“I can’t begin to tell you how hard it was to pull myself off that floor, Michael,” Nora said. “I was so sick and so tired…every muscle in my body was shaking. But I did. I stood up and looked Kingsley in the eye and I told him…”
Nora exhaled and the past reached out and took her in its arms against her will.
“Don’t, King. Don’t call him.”
Kingsley lifted his proud chin. “I must and you know it, Elle.”
“If you call him…if you tell him, then he’ll decide. Yes or no, it’ll be on him. I can’t do that to him. I can’t make him make this decision.”
She remembered the cold, hard certainty that she’d felt at that moment, the certainty that letting Søren decide would be a mistake. If he told her to keep it, it would ruin their life together. Twenty-seven years old…a job in a bookstore that paid almost nothing, and she was the mistress of a Catholic priest. Not ideal conditions for raising a child. But if he said to end it…a Catholic priest…she couldn’t let him make that decision. She had to do it. She had to do it alone. Not for her sake, but for his.
“You ever heard of the Fortunate Fall, Angel?” Nora asked, coming to the present yet again.
Michael shook his head.
“It’s a theological concept that Adam and Eve in the Garden were supposed to eat the fruit. That they were supposed to fall. That it was God’s plan all along. Søren thinks it’s bullshit. I’m inclined to disagree. That day when I had to make that decision without him… You have to understand, Angel, your priest made all my decisions for me and had for almost ten years. He owned me. He owned my body. I didn’t cut my hair without getting his permission.”
Michael whistled. “That’s intense.”
“Welcome to the world of being owned. You’ll like it. Until you hate it,” she said and winked at him. “Søren…I loved him too much to force him to make this decision for me. Either choice would break his heart. So for the first time in years, I made my own decision. I didn’t want to lose Søren and what we had. I couldn’t for one second imagine bringing up a child in the world I lived in—threesomes with Søren and Kingsley, parties at S&M clubs, slave auctions. Not a family-friendly atmosphere in our world. I went to the doctor, got the magic pills and took them. And the second I took them, it was like the Fortunate Fall. I had tasted the fruit of knowledge…but not of good and evil. The knowledge of freedom, of making my own decisions. And it tasted so sweet it scared me. I went to the rectory and waited for Søren. He came home and found me on his bathroom floor in absolute agony. I spent a lot of time on bathroom floors that week.”
“Did it hurt?”
Nora wiped at her cheek with the back of her hand.
“Yes, Angel, it hurt like fuck. And in the midst of a horrible cramp, your priest found me. I told him everything immediately. It all came out in one big rush. The antibiotics and the pregnancy and Kingsley and how I loved him too much to make him decide. Oh, my God, I’ll never forget the look on his face when I told him what I’d done, told him why I was in a ball of agony on his bathroom floor.”
“What? Was he angry?”
Nora reached out and took Michael’s hand in hers.
“No…he looked at me and…” She stopped to take a breath. “He said, ‘Little one, I’m so sorry…’ And he’d never looked at me before with such love or such compassion. He wasn’t angry at all. The opposite really. Goddammit, he’s a good priest, isn’t he?”
Michael bit his bottom lip and nodded. “Yeah. He really is. The best.”
“He wrapped me up in those crazy-strong arms of his and held me close to his chest. And then he gave me the one order he’s ever given me that I couldn’t obey.”
“What?”
Nora smiled.
“He ordered me to marry him.”
Michael actually gasped and Nora laughed at his shock.
“Yes. Romantic, isn’t he? Well, we kinksters can never do anything the normal way. I think he thought that’s what I needed—more supervision, more time with him. He said he would leave the priesthood and we would get married. Nothing like this would ever happen again. I would never have to go through anything like this alone ever again.”
“And you said no?”
“I said no. And then he got angry. I wasn’t afraid of him. I’ve never in my life been afraid of him. But I couldn’t stay, not a minute longer. What he offered, I wanted it so much I could taste it. But I had that other taste on my tongue, the taste of freedom. So I got up and walked out. And when I couldn’t walk anymore, I crawled. And your priest didn’t see me again for over a year.”
“A year?” Michael repeated in shock.
“A year. I found a place to hide out. A place he couldn’t follow. And believe me, he tried. And after a year there I went back to the city and back to Kingsley. And we buried Eleanor Schreiber in the past, and Nora Sutherlin was born to take her place.”
Michael smiled. “But Eleanor didn’t die.”
“Shh…” Nora covered his mouth with her finger. “Don’t tell.”
For a few moments they both sat in silence. The sun had set and the lawn had come to life with a thousand yellow fireflies.
“Do your regret it?” Michael asked, his voice no louder than the lightning bugs.
“What? Not having Junior Kingsley or not marrying Søren?”
“Both?”
Nora sighed heavily and shook her head. Leaning forward she pressed her lips to Michael’s and gave him a deep, long, slow kiss. He moaned into her mouth and Nora smiled as she pulled back.
“Neither,” she whispered.
Michael gave a rueful laugh.
“So you don’t even wonder?”
“Sometimes,” she admitted, possibly for the first time ever out loud. “Junior Kingsley would be about seven years old now.”
“That’s how old Owen is.”
Nora ran a hand through her hair and tucked it behind her ear. Owen Perry—wavy black hair like hers, smart, weird—every time she saw him, she remembered.
“Yes, it is, isn’t it? But like I said, no regrets. Life’s too short for regrets.”
“Do you regret anything?” Michael asked and Nora’s stomach tightened.
Turning her head she saw Wesley standing before her, his big brown eyes rimmed with unshed tears as she told him goodbye.
“Nothing,” she lied.
She stood up and patted Michael on top of his head. “But that’s not what we were supposed to be talking about. Didn’t bring you up here to talk about all the gruesome shit in my past.”
“Better than talking about all the gruesome shit in my future when my father finds out about Griffin. Nora, if Father S doesn’t want me and another guy together, then maybe—”
“Angel, Father S has no problem with you being with a guy. He’s worried that Griffin won’t take care of you the way he thinks dominants should take care of their subs. Griffin’s a well-trained partier, an ex-drug addict. He put the play in playboy. And he and Søren hate each other for no reason either of them will tell me....”
Michael looked at her with guilty eyes.
“Michael…you know, don’t you?”
He didn’t answer. Nora cupped his chin and forced him to look at her.
“Angel, tell me. This is an order from your mistress.”
“It’s not fair th
at you can do that.”
Nora grinned at him. “I know.”
“Griffin…” Michael began and stopped. “He…and you…”
“Oh, Lord Almighty,” Nora groaned. Michael didn’t have to say another word. So Griffin had actually been in love once upon a time. With her of all people. Maybe one of these days she’d figure out why every man in her life had such terrible taste in women. “Griffin went to Søren about me, didn’t he? I should have known. Søren and Kingsley don’t believe any dominant should lay a hand on a submissive until he or she has experienced pain. And apart from bar fights, tattoos and hangovers, Griffin hasn’t. I guess that’s about to change tonight.”
“Father S is going to hurt Griffin?”
“Don’t worry. He loves you. He can take it.”
“You think Griffin loves me?”
Nora cupped his face and caressed his bottom lip with her thumb.
“I’m certain of it. After tomorrow, I think you will be too.”
Michael blushed crimson. “Oh, God. Me and Griffin… We’re going to be…” He couldn’t even finish the sentence.
“He’s going to fuck you blind the second he gets a chance. Hope you’re okay with that.” Nora grinned fiendishly.
Groaning, Michael collapsed down onto the window seat. Nora could only laugh at him.
“Don’t pretend you aren’t dying for it,” Nora said. She picked up her laptop bag and pulled a folder out of it, a folder that contained the single most beautiful photograph she’d ever seen in her life. No matter where she went, she always took the photo with her. She’d been given a copy with the express orders to show it to no one ever. And she’d followed those orders to the letter…until now.
“Nora…me and Griffin? Seriously? I want it…I do. I want it so much it hurts. But I just can’t. Father S—”
Nora opened the folder that contained the photograph and held it out in front of Michael’s face without a word. Silently Michael stared at the image in front of him. Watching his eyes, Nora saw his expression change from curiosity to understanding.
Michael finally wrenched his eyes from the photograph and looked at Nora, who stood subtly smiling at him.
“Feel better now?” she asked.
Michael nodded wide-eyed at her.
“Much.”
23
The sound of falling water roused Michael from his sleep. Rain pelted the roof above him and the window next to him. Usually he loved the sound of rain, especially a morning rain in the summer. But now his first thought upon waking was of Griffin on his motorcycle, wet roads and screeching tires.
So this is love, he decided. Love was fucking terrifying.
Even awake Michael kept his eyes closed, not wanting to face the morning yet. He’d spent all night asleep in the bay window seat curled up in Nora’s lap like a kid. Last night he’d been certain he’d never fall asleep, but Nora had started running her fingers through his hair and humming softly, humming the quietest of lullabies. The song and her soothing touch had calmed his racing mind and finally allowed him some rest.
He heard footsteps in the hall, familiar footsteps, and his heart soared at the sound. But he kept his eyes closed, kept pretending to sleep.
“Welcome home,” Nora whispered. “You survive the night?”
Michael felt a new hand on his back, larger than Nora’s.
“Barely,” came Griffin’s voice, also in a whisper. “Your priest… I have no words.”
“Did he kick your ass? No, don’t tell me. I’ll be too jealous if he did.”
“He didn’t,” Griffin said, and Michael heard the surprise in his voice, the grudging respect. “We talked.”
“A talk with Søren? I think I’d rather take a beating.”
“It hurt worse than a beating. But I think I needed it.”
“So what’s the verdict with you and my Angel?”
“The verdict is…”
Michael felt Griffin’s hand slide from his lower back to his neck. Griffin’s fingers dug gently into his skin.
“Enough faking, Mick. Let’s go.” The gentleness of Griffin’s touch gave way to force, and Michael found himself being hauled to his feet.
“Griffin, it’s seven in the damn morning,” Nora said, yawning luxuriously.
“Good. We’ll need all day to make up for lost time.” Griffin’s fingers dug into Michael’s skin. “Excuse us.”
Michael’s heart raced, his hands went numb and every drop of blood in his body made a beeline for his hips.
“Excused.” Nora waved them off as Griffin hauled Michael toward the door.
“Oh, message from Søren, Nora,” Griffin said, pausing in the doorway.
“Good Lord, what?” she asked.
“He said you’re in trouble for going to the party in the city. Told you to stay upstate and out of trouble. So he’s punishing you.”
Nora rolled her eyes.
“Goddammit.” Nora sounded horrified at the prospect of punishment. “Whatever. I’ll do it. What is it?”
“He said…” Griffin paused and Michael winced. Griffin seemed genuinely afraid to tell her. Michael hoped the pause would last forever. He had no idea what was about to happen between him and Griffin but something told him whatever it was, his life would never be the same again after.
“What?” Nora demanded, her voice edged with anger.
“Don’t shoot the messenger, okay?”
Michael suddenly feared Nora’s punishment more than whatever Griffin had planned for him.
“Griffin…just tell me.” Nora gave him a cold, hard stare.
Griffin exhaled heavily.
“Søren said you have to visit your mother.”
Michael almost laughed out loud with sheer relief. But Nora’s face fell and she raised her hand to her forehead.
“Goddamn motherfucking sadist.”
“Good luck,” Griffin said as he beat a swift retreat, dragging Michael with him by the back of his T-shirt.
“What’s wrong with Nora’s mom?” Michael asked as they neared Griffin’s bedroom.
“They don’t like each other.”
“But why do—”
Michael’s question died on his lips as Griffin grabbed Michael by the shoulders and pushed him firmly but gently into his bedroom door. Digging his hands in Michael’s hair, Griffin forced Michael to meet his eyes.
“Do not speak again until I give you permission.”
Michael opened his mouth in an automatic “Yes, sir” but remembered himself and stayed silent.
“Good boy. Now go. In my bed. Right now.”
Without a moment’s hesitation, Michael threw open the doors to Griffin’s bedroom, pulled the covers back and slid into the bed. He did nothing else.
Griffin yanked off his leather motorcycle jacket, stripped down to his boxer briefs and threw himself into bed next to Michael.
Rolling onto his back, Griffin grabbed Michael and pulled him hard to his chest.
“Now go to sleep,” Griffin ordered. Michael raised his head and stared at him. Griffin met his eyes and then burst into laughter.
“Seriously?” Michael asked, breaking the no-talking rule.
“I’m exhausted. Haven’t slept all night. I love you too much to lay a hand on you like this. Now shut up, sub, and go to sleep.”
Michael nodded and laid his head down on the center of Griffin’s chest. He’d only slept an hour or two himself last night. But something Griffin said forced
Michael’s head back up again.
“You love me?” he asked, his voice hardly more than a whisper.
Griffin brought his mouth to Michael’s. For what felt like a year but probably lasted no more than a minute, Michael was subjected to the softest yet deepest, most intimate kiss of his life. With the most expert touches of his tongue, Griffin managed to set every nerve in Michael’s body firing with only his mouth on Michael’s mouth.
“Yes,” Griffin said, finally ending the kiss with the most erotic smile Michael had ever seen in his life. “Now go to sleep.”
Michael pressed his entire body to Griffin’s and luxuriated in the warmth of his chest through the soft fabric of his white T-shirt. Right before falling asleep, Michael whispered the two words he’d been waiting to say since the moment he’d met Griffin.
“Yes, sir.”
* * *
Nora stared at herself in the mirror and cursed at her reflection. She hadn’t seen her mother in over six years and here she was trying to decide if her mother would approve of her outfit. Last thing she wanted was to provoke a fight by showing up in any clothes that even remotely hinted at the woman Nora had become. She’d left her mother’s protection and returned to the city, returned to the world her mother had prayed her daughter would one day leave behind.
Jeans. Basic jeans. A white blouse buttoned up to a respectable level. Boots with a low heel. Hair in a ponytail. Almost no makeup. Surely that would be good enough, tame enough, vanilla enough for her mother.
Nora got into her BMW and headed out at near-breakneck speed. She wanted to get this punishment over with as soon as possible. Being here in Guilford so close to where her mother had moved had been a mistake. She should have known at some point Søren would order her to visit her mother. They’d been friends once—Søren and her mom. When Nora was merely a troubled teenager everyone called Elle or Ellie, the sainted Father Stearns and her mother had worked together a time to two trying to tame her wild side. Of course, Søren’s methods had proven far more effective than her mother’s hectoring and disdain. Nora knew her mother always thought her daughter had far too much of her reprobate father in her. It had been a miracle her mother had taken her in at all that day Nora had shown up at the front door still cramping from the drugs she’d taken, shaking from the shock of running from the only man she’d ever loved.
The Angel (The Original Sinners) Page 33