CHAPTER 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.
But her mother had taken her in, sheltered her, fought to keep her there when the others questioned whether Nora belonged there or not.
“She left her lover,” her mother told the others who wanted her out. “He won’t come for her here. He can’t. He abused her. Physically.”
Although it turned Nora’s stomach to hear her mother tell the lie, she’d kept quiet, praying that the others would take pity on her and let her stay. And finally they had. Nora had been given her own room, chores to do, and orders to keep her head down and cause no trouble. She’d caused trouble, of course. Couldn’t be helped. It was her nature. In her loneliness there at the house, she started to write a story about a girl running away from a man. Nora could see the girl in her mind’s eye, see her racing through trees, turning her head back every few seconds to see who followed her. And Nora had whispered to the girl in her mind, “Don’t run. He’s the only one you don’t have to be afraid of….” And with that one sentence, that one idea, she’d written her first book, The Runaway.
For that book alone, the book that changed her life, she’d be forever grateful for her year of limbo in that house with her mother. Søren once said that book had been her way of writing herself out of hell. But it hadn’t been hell in the house. Hell was leaving Søren. Hell was staying away from him. Behind the gates that Nora drove through…that was mere purgatory. And it was to purgatory she now returned.
Hell punished sin. Purgatory burned it away. She’d like to keep her sins, thank you very much. No matter how much they hurt.
Nora parked the car and headed for the main house. Finding the bell at the wrought-iron gate, Nora rang it and waited.
“Yes, child?” came a weak voice from an ancient face behind the gate.
“My name is Eleanor Schreiber.” Nora waited to see if the woman remembered her.
The old woman smiled and nodded.
“I’ll find her for you.”
“Thank you,” Nora said, entirely without gratitude.
She heard the sound of cloth scraping the ground as the woman shuffled down a hall. A few minutes later younger footsteps approached. A door at the side of the gate opened and two women stepped through—one in her eighties and one in her fifties.
“Sister Mary John, this is your visitor.”
The woman in her fifties heaved a deep sigh.
“Elle? What are you doing here?”
“Hi, Mom.”
* * *
When Michael awoke, the morning rain had dissipated completely and warm white sunlight filled Griffin’s bedroom. He guessed he’d slept to about noon or later, slept deeper and better than he ever had in his life. Griffin’s chest made the best pillow in the world.
Michael laid his hand on Griffin’s rib cage and felt his heart beating steadily against his hand. How had this happened? What had he done to deserve the right to be in Griffin Fiske’s bed with his hand over Griffin’s heart? It seemed the most ridiculous thing in the world. Like a gift. Like a grace. And entirely without meaning to, Michael leaned up and dropped the smallest of kisses on Griffin’s lips.
The touch of their mouths caused Griffin to stir in his sleep. His dark eyelashes fluttered and opened. Michael froze.
“Sorry, sir,” he said in a panic.
“Never be sorry for kissing me, Mick. That’s an order.”
Michael grinned.
“Your orders are really easy to follow, sir.”
“Take your clothes off,” Griffin said without blinking or missing a beat.
Michael’s hands went numb.
“Okay, I take it back.”
Rolling up, Griffin cupped the side of Michael’s face. With his thumb he caressed the arch of Michael’s cheekbone. With his fingertips Griffin kneaded the soft skin underneath Michael’s ear.
“I’ll help.”
Reaching out, Griffin gathered the fabric of Michael’s T-shirt in his hands and pulled it up. Michael hesitated before lifting his arms to help the process along.
“I’m so fucking skinny and you’re so—”
Griffin clamped his hand over Michael’s mouth as he sent the T-shirt flying across the room.
“I have the most beautiful sub in the world in my bed. If you insult him, the punishment will be swift and severe.” Griffin gave Michael a stern glare. “Understand me?”
“Yes, sir.” Michael nodded in penitence even as his heart soared at Griffin’s words.
“I have wanted to do this for weeks.” Griffin ran his hands through Michael’s hair, down his neck and back, over his arms and down his chest and stomach. “Icing you up after your first night with Nora, I thought it would kill me. I’d never needed to touch someone or kiss someone so much in my life.”
“Really?” Michael’s mind boggled at the confession. He couldn’t believe the entire time he’d been aching for Griffin, Griffin had been equally pining for him.
“Really. Swear to God, Mick, it’s nearly killed me not to touch you for so long. Like this…” Griffin pressed his thumb into the hollow of Michael’s throat. “And this…” Griffin ran his hand down the center of Michael’s back from the nape of his neck to the small of his back. “And this…” Griffin pressed his hand between Michael’s legs and cupped his testicles. Michael inhaled and closed his eyes.
“We don’t…” Griffin began and stopped. “It’s a big deal, letting a guy inside you. We don’t have to do that yet. We can wait as long as you need or want. I don’t mind. There’s a lot of other stuff we can do. And I’m a little on the big side so I don’t want to hurt you. We can wait. We should wait.”
Michael opened his eyes and looked at Griffin.
“I want you inside me,” he said simply. He reached out and dug his fingers into Griffin’s biceps. “I will beg you for it if you order me to. And I’ll beg you for it even if you don’t.”
Griffin looked at Michael with an expression on his face he’d never seen before. No, he corrected. He had seen it. Often. On Father S’s face during prayer. It was love mingled with reverence. Reverence…for him?
The reverence quickly morphed to unabashed, unadulterated lust as Griffin gripped Michael’s shoulders and pushed him down hard onto his back. Their mouths met, their tongues intermingled…Griffin’s hips pushed into Michael’s. Michael trembled as he felt the full force of Griffin’s hunger for him pressed against his stomach. But he wanted this, needed this. All summer long he’d waited for this. He wouldn’t let fear stop him. He’d worry about what his father thought tomorrow, what the world would say. Today all that mattered was Griffin.
“Stay here,” Griffin said as he pulled himself up and off of Michael. Michael nodded and lay perfectly still on his back, panting. He didn’t watch Griffin, merely stared at the ceiling. He could definitely get used to staring at Griffin’s ceiling.
Griffin returned to the bed with rope cuffs in his hand and a smile on his face.
“Up,” Griffin ordered and Michael came to his feet.
He stood in front of Griffin and inhaled with pleasure as Griffin took Michael’s forearms in his hands and bound them with the rope cuffs behind his back. Michael wondered why his forearms at first and not his wrists. Then he remembered his fresh tattoos. He’d almost forgotten about them. But Griffin hadn’t.
“Now…” Griffin said with a sensual smile. “Down.”
Michael hit his knees without hesitation or a word of protest. Ever since witnessing Nora doing this to Griffin six weeks ago, he’d dreamed of going down on his knees like this. Griffin pulled off his boxer briefs and tossed them aside. Yes…Michael took a deep breath. Just like this.
Griffin slid into Michael’s mouth. Michael discerned the subtle hint of salt on his tongue and relished finally knowing what Griffin tasted like. He took as much of Griffin into his mouth as he could. Nora had done this to him several times this summer, but he still didn’t have much of a clue what he was doing.
“It’s okay, Mick. Go easy on yourself,” Griffin said, twining his hands in Michael’s hair. “It feels amazing.”
The slight catch in Griffin’s voice stoked Michael on. Somehow Michael had managed to do something right. Right enough that Griffin had to call a stop to it.
“Yeah, that was as amazing as I dreamed about. Too amazing,” Griffin said, pulling out of Michael’s mouth. “Don’t want to end this before it begins.”
Griffin reached down, grabbed Michael by the arm and hauled him to his feet. As Griffin reached behind him and pulled off the rope cuffs, Michael pressed a kiss onto Griffin’s muscular shoulder.
Griffin stopped moving but Michael kept kissing.
“Is this okay?” he whispered as his mouth moved from Griffin’s shoulder to his neck.
“God, yes, it’s okay.” Griffin tilted his head to the side to give Michael better access to his throat. “Mick…I want to do something if you’re okay with it.”
“Anything, sir.”
Griffin gave a low, throaty laugh.
“Let me tell you what it is before you say yes to it.”
“Okay, sir.” Michael bit lightly at Griffin’s earlobe and was rewarded with a sharp intake of air. Biting…Griffin liked biting. Awesome.
“I want to go bare with you. You can say no.”
Michael stopped in the midst of a protracted kiss of Griffin’s collarbone.
“You mean…?”
Griffin nodded. Michael hadn’t forgotten their conversation from weeks ago when Griffin revealed he’d never in his life had had sex without using a condom. He’d said it was the one thing he held back so he’d have something to give if he was ever in a real relationship with someone.
And Griffin wanted to give that part of himself to Michael.
“Yes. Yes, definitely, sir. Absolutely, yes.”
“Mick, what are you trying to say?”
Michael laughed and leaned into Griffin, who wrapped his arms around him.
“Yes, sir!” Michael shouted the words and laughed as Griffin gave him a wide-eyed look of shock.
“That’s the first time I’ve ever heard you raise your voice at all.”
“Yeah…” Michael shrugged. “I didn’t know I could do that.”
Griffin cupped Michael’s neck with both hands.
“I like it. I like hearing you. I always want to hear you,” Griffin said and dropped a quick but sensual kiss on Michael’s lips. “I want to hear you talk.” He dipped his head and kissed Michael’s throat. “And I want to hear you shout.” He bit Michael’s earlobe. “And I want to hear you beg.” Griffin reached between their bodies, slipped his hand into Michael’s boxers and took him in his hand. “And I want to hear you come.”
Michael shivered at Griffin’s words. Closing his eyes he lowered his head and leaned against Griffin.
“And…” Griffin said, running his hands up Michael’s back. “I want to hear you laugh.”
With one shove, Griffin pushed Michael and sent him sprawling across the bed. Michael laughed riotously as Griffin crawled on top of him and pinned him hard to the mattress.
“Good boy. Now don’t move. I’m going to fuck you in a few minutes.”
Griffin moved away again and Michael tried to do his slow deep breathing that Nora had taught him. But nothing could get him to anything remotely resembling a place of peace or Zen. He’d never wanted anything so much in his life like he wanted Griffin inside him. Fuck Zen.
Michael watched as Griffin came to the side of the bed with two black silk sashes and some gauze.
“Tying you up is going to be a lot easier when the damn tats heal,” Griffin said, grinning as he gently placed gauze pads over Michael’s wrists. “I’ve got leather cuffs, handcuffs, rope cuffs…and I plan on using every last one of them on you. For the next month though, we better stick to gauze and silk.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Michael said as he let Griffin bind his wrists. “You don’t have to tie me up.”
Griffin grinned. “Of course I don’t have to. I want to. And you want me to. Don’t you?”
Michael blushed but couldn’t deny the truth.
“Desperately.”
“Desperately, huh?” Griffin repeated as he tied the silk sashes around one of the bedposts. Michael had to turn onto his side to get into a comfortable position. On his side…okay, so this was how it was going to happen. “You’ve been spending too much time with Nora and her damn adverbs. Comfortable?”
“Yes, sir,” Michael said, looking up at Griffin, who laid his hand briefly on Michael’s face.
“You’ll be okay. We’ll stop if it hurts. You talk to me the entire time. That’s an order.”
Michael’s heart clenched at Griffin’s tender concern for him. So this is what being loved felt like? Like somebody out there cared more about what he wanted and needed than what they wanted and needed… Weird.
Griffin climbed into bed again and sat at Michael’s hip. Slowly Griffin eased Michael’s boxers down his legs. As Griffin stripped him completely naked, Michael stared off into the corner of the room. Even the night of their threesome, Michael had kept his boxers on during the sex. Griffin had never seen him naked before.
Michael winced at his boxers hit the floor by the side of the bed. But Griffin made no comment. Instead he kissed the side of Michael’s thigh and worked his way up to Michael’s hips.
The featherlight kisses on never-before-kissed parts of his body sent Michael trembling on the edge of orgasm.
“I want you to come first,” Griffin said, taking Michael in his hand again and lightly stroking. “You’ll be more relaxed. Relaxed is what we want.”
Griffin’s hand did amazing things to him. Nora knew how to touch a guy. He had no complaints where her technique was concerned. But Griffin was so strong and yet the way he touched Michael so gentle…. Griffin’s other hand gripped the back of Michael’s neck. Griffin put his mouth on Michael’s shoulder and bit down hard. The mix of pleasure and pain did Michael in. With a gasp he came in Griffin’s hand with an orgasm that seemed to go on forever.
“Oh, God.” Michael leaned forward and breathed into the sheets.
“I plan on practicing that until I’m making you scream when you come.”
“From the orgasm or the biting?” Michael asked.
“Both.”
Griffin lay down next to Michael and pressed his chest into Michael’s back. For a few minutes they did nothing but lie silently spooned together as Griffin ran his hand over Michael’s body. The rhythm of Griffin’s touch lulled Michael into an almost hypnotic trance. Every muscle in his body started to unknot. Every ounce of anxiety seeped out of his skin and into the sheets.
When Griffin opened the bottle of lube, Michael barely heard it. Nothing registered except Griffin’s touch, his nearness.
“Just fingers first,” Griffin said. “I’m sure you did this with Nora.”
“Yeah. I’m good there,” Michael said, lifting his leg to his chest as the cold liquid met his warm skin. Almost torturously slowly, Griffin’s fingers slid inside Michael. “Very good.”
Griffin laughed as he nuzzled the back of Michael’s neck with kisses.
“Glad you like it. Anything feel bad? Feel weird? I want you to tell me.”
“Feels amazing.”
“Amazing is what we’re going for. This will be even better when you’re healed up completely and I’ve beaten the hell out of you first. Sex after S&M is a new kind of amazing. Well, I guess you know that after all this time with Nora.”
“I do,” Michael said. “But I don’t how it is with you. And I can’t wait.”
“Me neither. Okay, three fingers? Good? Bad?”
“Good. More than good.” Michael felt open and relaxed. The orgasm had helped with some of the tension but really it was Griffin, just Griffin, who could make all the stress go away. Michael loved Nora and adored her. But she had a wildness to her, an unpredictable side that fascinated him, but scared him too. With Griffin though…with Griffin he felt safe.
“More than good,” Griffin said. “That’s an understatement. God, Mick. I can’t believe how good you feel. I have to be inside you. I don’t think I can wait any longer.”
Michael pulled against the sashes on his wrists as Griffin pushed up deeper into him.
“Then don’t wait.”
Griffin slid his fingers out and Michael heard the sound of the lube bottle again. More of the cold liquid covered him and Michael opened his eyes and stared at his bound hands. Whenever he’d fantasized about this moment with Griffin, he’d always imagined the fear and how he would have to fight to overcome it. But now he felt no fear at all. Nothing but hunger, passion, need.
And love.
“Here’s a little trick,” Griffin said as he set the bottle aside and pushed even closer to Michael. “If you kind of bear down first—”
“I know. Bear down first. Then release. It’ll fit better,” Michael said, quoting Nora from the day she’d scandalized the crazy old bats at church.
“Nora. Right.” Griffin laughed in Michael’s ear. “I’m glad you had such a good teacher.”
“I feel like I have a lot to learn still,” Michael said as Griffin kissed his neck.
“I will teach you everything you need to know. Lesson one. When I go in, you breathe out. Cool?”
Michael gave one practice exhale. “Cool.”
Again Michael stared off into the nothing at the corner of Griffin’s bedroom and tried not to think about what was happening to him. He didn’t want to stress or tense up. He’d learned that from Nora.
So when Griffin started to push inside him, Michael did nothing but what he’d been ordered to do. He breathed out, hard and slow, and only after his second long exhale did he let himself focus on what he was feeling.
Michael buried his face in his arm and groaned.
“Fuck.”
Griffin dug his fingers into Michael’s hips.
“Good?” he asked, his voice tense and breathless.
Michael nodded. “Good. Very good.”
For a few minutes Griffin barely moved except to run his hand up and down Michael’s arms and back and side. Michael couldn’t begin to imagine the self-control it took for Griffin to be inside him without thrusting. But it worked. Gradually Michael relaxed enough that Griffin could push a little deeper inside him. And then deeper. Michael turned his head back for a kiss just as Griffin began to slowly move in and out of him.
“There’s something wrong with your back,” Griffin breathed into Michael’s lips.
“There is?”
Griffin grinned at him. “My welts aren’t on it.”
Michael laughed but the laugh turned to a gasp as Griffin hit a spot inside him that made every nerve in his body sing. He’d never dreamed it would feel this good. Arching his back, he took Griffin in even deeper. He tossed his leg back over Griffin’s thigh. His hands formed fists and the pain in his wrists made the pleasure all the more potent.
He let go completely, let his ego die, his fears fade…. With Griffin inside him, he couldn’t begin to care what his father thought, what anyone thought. No way was this wrong. And no one would ever convince him of that.
Griffin pushed his hand hard into Michael’s lower stomach as his thrusts grew faster and harder.
“God, Mick…” Griffin rasped into his ear. “It’s never felt like this before. And it’s not…”
Not the condom thing, Michael knew Griffin meant. But he didn’t have to say it. Griffin’s body said it, his hands that held Michael like the world was about to end, his lips that couldn’t stop kissing his neck and shoulders, his desperate breaths that matched Michael’s.
Michael felt the muscles in Griffin’s thigh going taut as steel. He pushed one, twice, and with a final thrust, Griffin came hard, his mouth at Michael’s ear. Michael grunted in shocked pleasure as he felt Griffin pouring into him.
For a few minutes or a few hours—Michael was too spent to notice the time—Griffin stayed inside him after catching his breath. Michael felt the first stirring of awkwardness. What did they do now? What was he supposed to say? Would things be weird now that they’d had sex? What happened now?
Griffin wrapped a strong arm over Michael’s chest and held him close.
“I want to own you,” Griffin whispered into Michael’s ear.
Michael smiled, and for the first time in his life knew exactly what to say and how to say it.
“You already do.”
* * *
“Ellie? What on earth are you doing here?” Nora’s mother, Sister Mary John, stepped forward and pulled Nora into an embrace, an embrace Nora returned quickly and perfunctorily before taking an awkward step back.
“Long story. How are you, Mom?”
Nora felt her mother’s eyes on her face, studying her intently. Nora kept her expression neutral as she returned the gaze. The years were being kind to her mother. At fifty-two, the woman looked barely forty-two. Of course cloistered nuns were notoriously healthy. Their lives were so regimented and cut off from the stresses of the world that many of her mother’s sisters in the order lived well into their nineties and remained active during even their final years.
“I’m well. Very well. Come, let’s walk, shall we?”
“Sure.” Nora followed her mother through the gate and into the motherhouse. A sign warning that all men were barred from entering the enclosure greeted them as they passed into the recesses of the house. No men…not even priests. It was for that reason Nora fled to her mother’s abbey when she left Søren. As much as he’d wanted her back, he would never have stepped foot inside this place. At night sometimes she’d wake up in the tiny cell she’d been given and imagine him waiting outside the gates of the abbey for her. She’d sworn she’d heard the unique roar of his motorcycle engine more than once. All that time they’d been apart, he’d known exactly where she hid.
“How have you been, Ellie?” her mother asked as they passed through the back door and onto the lawns.
“Great. Amazing. I started working with a new editor last year, a new publisher. The new book hit all the big lists.”
“That’s wonderful for you.”
Nora cringed at the placid tone in her mother’s voice. Wonderful for you. Not wonderful. Just wonderful for her. Her mother disapproved of her books, her erotic writing. Always had. Always would.
“You might like the new book. Almost no sex in it. Well, compared to my other stuff.”
“That’s quite a change for you. What brought that on?”
Nora shrugged and said nothing as they stepped onto one of the winding paths. Out of the corner of her eye, Nora studied her mother. She hated how much they looked alike—the same small straight nose, the same changing eyes, the same pale complexion.
“Nothing. Just playing around, trying to write something different. Expanding my horizons…” Nora cringed. God, she sounded like she was giving an interview with her trite answers.
“You look well. In one piece at least.” A slight smile played across her mother’s lips.
“Is that your way of asking if we’re back together?”
“You can’t blame me worrying about you, can you?”
Nora sighed. Classic motherly deflection. She loved how her mother could take all the aspects of Nora’s life that were the most personal, the most private—her relationship with Søren, her sex life, her need to submit, her hunger to dominate…things that had nothing to do at all with her mother—and make them about her. Mothers must go to some sort of school to learn how to do that so well.
“We’re back together. And we’re happy. And I love him. And I always will. Oh, yeah, we’re still kinky as hell too. In case you were also wondering that.”
Her mother exhaled angrily.
“Eleanor, his is a man of God. He is a priest. Do you have any idea what seducing a priest means for your soul?”
“Seducing a priest?” Nora rolled her eyes. “Back in the day he was an abuser who’d seduced me. Now suddenly I’m the seducer here?”
“You’re a grown woman now, not a child anymore. You know better now. You know you could have a life apart from him. Going back to him? That’s willful disobedience.”
“It’s love. And I’m not disobeying anyone. Until God Himself tells me he and I aren’t allowed to be together, then we’re going to be together. It hardly renders him unfit for the priesthood. Almost all Protestant ministers are married, and Jewish rabbis. We Catholics are the freaks making our ministers stay celibate. Can you get more medieval than that?”
“He chose to become a priest knowing celibacy was one of the requirements. If he cannot honor that, he should leave the priesthood.”
“Yeah, let’s take the best priest in New England and turn him into, I don’t know, a piano teacher just because he’s in love with me. And we’ll let all those priests who like to rape the altar boys stay in the Church. Last time I read the Bible, I don’t remember sexually assaulting children being part of doing the Lord’s work.”
“You were fifteen—”
“I was fifteen when I fell in love with Søren. Fifteen years old when I told God, the devil and anyone who would listen that I would sell my soul for one night with him. When will you believe, when will you understand… Mother, I seduced him.”
“And that’s why he doesn’t belong in the Church. There are some priests who manage to keep their vows.”
“Yes, the ones who haven’t met me,” Nora said purely out of spite.
Her mother winced and Nora suppressed a twinge of guilt. Goddammit. She had a priest for a lover and a nun for a mother. Between the two of them she had enough Catholic guilt to start her own religious order. After ten years, Nora still couldn’t believe her mother had made good on her threat to have her marriage annulled and become a nun.
“I pray for you, Eleanor.”
“I know you do. It won’t be answered. Not with a yes anyway.”
Nora knew her mother prayed for her every single day, prayed the same prayer every day—Father, please save my daughter from that man.
But Nora never wanted to be saved.
“For the record,” Nora said, breaking the awkward silence, “I’m only here because he wanted me to come see you. He wants us to get over our problems.”
“How thoughtful of him. Now when is he planning on getting over his problems?”
“He doesn’t have any problems. Except that he’s up for bishop, a position he doesn’t want.”
“I’d hardly worry about that. God would never allow such a man to take a position of power.”
“That’s true. God’s very good about making sure only saints get to rule kingdoms and countries.”
“You lost your mind and your faith when you went to his bed.”
“Neither actually,” Nora retorted. “Just my virginity, and I sure as hell don’t miss it.”
“Ellie—”
“This is ridiculous. He’s the one who’s lost his mind if he thinks you and I are ever going to work this out. I love him. He’s a good man. He’s the best man I’ve ever known. I know you don’t get what we are, but I don’t care. It’s not your private life, it’s mine.”
“I’ve accepted that, obviously. Otherwise I would have called the bishop on him years ago.”
Nora clenched her jaw to keep quiet. The reason her mother hadn’t called the bishop on Søren had nothing to do with what she did or didn’t believe. The day her mother discovered the truth about her and Søren, Nora had threatened that if her mother did anything to harm Søren in any way, Nora would leave forever and her mother would never see her again. The threat worked, although only God knew why. When they did see each other, they always fought…just like this.
“Ellie…” Her mother stopped in her tracks and turned around. Nora avoided eye contact at first. She hated seeing her mother like this, swathed in a wool habit, her hair covered with a wimple, her entire body hidden in a sea of fabric.
“What, Mother?”
“Can you just try to love someone or even let someone love you who doesn’t want to hurt you? Is that too much to ask?”
Nora bit her bottom lip and didn’t answer. The question hit far too close to home for her.
“Nora? Will you answer me if I call you Nora?” her mother asked in a voice soft with concern. At the utterance of the name she’d chosen instead of the one her mother had given her, Nora blinked and two tears fell from her eyes and to the ground.
“I tried,” Nora whispered hoarsely. The muscles in her stomach clenched and her throat tightened.
“You did?” Her mother sounded both shocked and happy. “Who was it?”
Nora swiped at her cheek.
“His name’s Wesley. He worked for me. But it was more than that. He was my best friend. And…” Nora paused for a breath. “I love him so much. He got sick once and I couldn’t find him. And I’d never prayed so hard for anything in my life, prayed that he would be okay.”
“He loved you too?”
Nora nodded. “Like crazy. I didn’t realize it for a long time. I never thought someone that sweet and pure really would ever want someone like me. But he didn’t see me like that. He didn’t see Nora Sutherlin who writes erotica and does kink…I was just his Nora, his crazy friend he wanted to love and be with and keep safe. I think he would have stayed with me forever if I hadn’t kicked him out.”
“Why…why would you kick him out of your life if you loved him so much? If he loved you?”
“Because all that kid wanted was to love me and not hurt me. And you have no idea how much that hurts someone like me. And I wanted to love him without hurting him…and I hurt him so badly. He deserved better than me. I made him go.”
Nora flinched as her mother reached out and cupped her face in her hands as she had so many times when Nora was still Ellie, still a child, still needed a mother’s touch.
“My Ellie… You sent him away on a fool’s errand. There is no one better than you, my beautiful girl. Not in all of God’s creation.”
Only her years of training at Søren’s feet had instilled enough self-control into Nora to keep her from collapsing into her mother’s arms.
Nora crossed her arms over her chest and stared past her mother and tried to think of anything and anyone but Wesley.
“It’s for the best,” she finally said. “Whatever the reason we broke up, it’s for the best. Wesley…he…”
“You still love him, don’t you?”
Nora touched her face and came away with her fingers wet with tears. She held out her hand and let her mother see them.
“Many waters…”
Her mother took Nora’s hand in hers and squeezed.
“I never saw you cry over him, that year you were here. Not one tear.”
“Some hurts are too deep for tears.”
Her mother shook her head.
“Or maybe not deep enough. Try, Ellie. Try for me. Just once, try to be with someone who makes you cry like this, out of love. Not out of pain or fear. Is that too much to ask?”
Nora shrugged and shook her head.
“It’s too late. It’s been so long I’m sure he’s moved on by now. I hope he has, anyway.”
“Liar,” her mother teased and Nora laughed. Laughed? Laughed with her mother while talking about a guy? So shit like this did happen in real life, not just movies. Who knew?
“I have to go,” Nora said. “Things to do. People to beat. It was good to see you again.”
Her mother clasped her hands in front of her in a posture of resigned piety.
“Of course. Try not to let another six years pass without coming to visit again.”
“I didn’t think they’d let me back in after all I pulled.” Nora grinned, remembering all the trouble she’d caused back here behind the gates where no men could come.
“Are you kidding? They still talk about you. You’ve given us six years of dinner conversation.”
“I live to serve.” Nora bobbed a curtsy before heading back toward the back doors. She walked quickly, wanting to be out of this world and back into hers as soon as possible. All these celibate women freaked her out. She couldn’t imagine giving up sex for a higher power. Even her Wesley had given up waiting and had surely slept with his sexy older girlfriend by now. The thought of another woman laying her hands on her Wesley put almost murderous thoughts in Nora’s head, thoughts she had no right to have.
They walked through the motherhouse toward the gate. Her mother opened the door that led back to the real world, to the unconsecrated ground where Nora lived.
“I’ll come visit again. Soon, I promise,” Nora said. “Can I bring you anything? Smuggle in anything? Pizza? Swedish fish? Pot? Anything?”
Her mother smiled.
“Just my daughter, happy and in one piece.”
Nora indicted her body with a sweeping gesture of her hands.
“One piece,” she said.
“And happy?”
“Believe it or not, yes. Maybe not by your definition, but by mine.”
“Then I can live with that.”
Nora paused and looked at her mother. She wanted to say something more, say something else, but she couldn’t find the words. Or she knew the words but didn’t have the courage to say them.
“I’ll see you later, Mom.”
“Oh, Ellie?”
“What, Mom?” Nora turned back to her and gasped as her mother slapped her hard and quick across the cheek.
At first Nora couldn’t speak from shock alone.
“That seems to be the only way you let someone tell them they love you. So be it,” her mother said, lowering her hand.
Nora stood up straight and smiled.
“That didn’t feel like love to me,” Nora said, stepping through the gate. “Just felt amateur. Next time I visit, we’ll work on your technique.”
Nora strode to her car and fought tears the entire way. She refused to believe her mother was right. She wasn’t going to give up Søren simply to satisfy her mother and society’s restrictive, vanilla, fucking boring definition of what love was supposed to be.
Didn’t matter anyway. The only vanilla guy she’d ever loved was Wesley, and she would never see him again. Søren surely wouldn’t allow it. Not if she told him the truth that her feelings for Wesley crept along inside her heart like the snake in the garden. Life with Søren was paradise, a dark, dangerous paradise but still, a perfect naked Eden.
“Almost perfect,” she whispered to no one as she sat behind the wheel of her car. She stuck her key into the ignition but before she turned the car on, she heard the ominous sounds of Toccata and Fugue in D Minor.
Nora snatched her phone out of her bag.
“Søren…” she breathed with relief. “God, I’ve missed—”
“Tell me the truth, little one. Have you made your peace with Wesley?”
Nora exhaled. She and Wesley would never be together. And she could live with that. For this man and what they had, she would live with that.
“Yes, sir.”
He then spoke the words she’d been waiting all summer to hear.
“Come home to me.”