SOUTH
He couldn’t stay mad at the woman if his life depended on it. How could anyone stay mad at Nora? She had this thing about her, this force, this wildness…. Of course she hadn’t slept with him last night. That’s exactly what Wesley had wanted, exactly when he wanted it and exactly who he’d wanted it with. So it hadn’t happened. Nothing ever happened except on Nora’s terms. That’s why she made him want to scream sometimes. That’s why she made him love her all the time.
Wesley led Nora through the quiet stables. Dozens of horses greeted them with low, breathy whinnies. He had to physically restrain her on several occasions from reaching out to pet the horses.
“Thoroughbreds, Nor. These are Thoroughbreds, not kittens. They’re geared up and ready to run. And they’ll bite you if you get them in the right mood. And now, they are in the right mood.”
“But they’re so cute with their little socks on,” she said, pulling Wesley toward another stall, where a horse named Don’t Need the Money pranced about peevishly. “Plus, I bite back.”
“You know horse racing is called the sport of kings, right?” Wesley teased. Nora had a rather irreverent take on horse racing. He blamed all those clients of hers that were into pony play. She couldn’t look at a saddle or a bridle without telling him about her ex-client who watched My Friend Flicka for the same reasons other guys watched porn.
“So what’s going on here?” Nora waved her hands around at the stables.
“Prerace prep. Horses get rubbed down and dressed. Then it’s off to the starting gate.”
“The stands don’t look that full. Do people really make money off horse racing?”
“Nora, this one race that’s happening here in Charleston Park? People all over the world are betting on it.”
“Damn.”
“I know. The purses aren’t really where the money is. You want to win races so your horse proves he can win. That way, other horse owners will pay you a fortune to breed their horses with yours.”
“So they can go on to win races and not win very much money, but then sell horsey spooge to the next generation.”
“Right. Disgusting, but right.”
“So do the horses like running?”
“What?”
Nora turned around and leaned back against the stable wall. A horse named Good Golly Miss Molly stuck her head out of the stall window and stuck her tongue out at Wesley.
“Do they like it? Enjoy it?”
“I don’t speak horse. But I think a lot of them do. They’ve been trained to enjoy it, trained to want to run.”
“But it’s dangerous.”
“Being a wild horse is dangerous, too. Being an animal is dangerous. Being a human is dangerous.”
“Putting bridles on them, making them do dangerous things for the pleasure of others…isn’t that wrong?”
Just then Wesley noticed the wicked little twinkle in Nora’s eyes. They were green today. He’d asked her once why her eyes changed colors so often. One moment they shone bright emerald-green. In a blink they could turn black as night. “I have mood eyes,” she’d answered. “Green when I’m happy. Black when I’m horny.”
He sort of wished they were black right now.
“You’re not talking about horse racing, are you?”
Nora shook her head. “I am. But I’m not.”
“Horse racing isn’t like kink. Yeah, they both can be dangerous. And yeah, there’s some, I don’t know, non-consent involved….”
“And riding crops.”
“Yeah, and riding crops. But there’s a big difference between horse racing and kink.”
“And what’s that?” The twinkle remained in her eyes.
“It’s sad when a Thoroughbred gets hurt in a race. But when Søren hurts you, I die inside.”
Nora said nothing. The twinkle in her eyes faded. She pushed herself off the stable wall and came to him. Throwing her arms around his neck, she brought her mouth to his and kissed him long and deep. So shocked was he by the sudden kiss, it took Wesley a second before he could even kiss her back. But when he did, he met her passion with hunger, met her lips with his tongue, met her lust with love.
Wesley slid his hands down her back, and Nora pulled away.
“What?” he asked, searching her face for any clue as to why she’d stopped.
“Tonight,” she said, panting.
“What’s tonight?”
Nora laid her hands on his chest. She came up on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek. “What you wanted. We hang out, we watch movies, we eat dinner together, we talk. But instead of separate bedrooms…we go to bed together.”
She turned around and walked away. But not before she looked back at him once and winked.
Wesley couldn’t stop smiling. Her eyes had turned black as night.
He started to follow her, but heard his father calling his name.
“What?” Wesley asked, sounding more peevish than he intended. His father glared at him. “Sorry. I mean, what is it?”
“Do you want to see this horse or not?”
Wesley decided answering truthfully would not win him any points in this situation.
“Yes. Totally. Let’s go.” Wesley and his father walked past the paddock to another set of stables.
“Where’s that woman of yours?”
“Dad, she’s my girlfriend, not ‘my woman.’ And you know her name is Nora.”
“Don’t care what her name is. Just want to know where she is.”
Wesley tried and failed to suppress the eye-rolling urge. Thank God he’d remembered to put his sunglasses back on. Nothing pissed his father off more than disrespect.
“She’s hanging out by the stables. She’ll behave herself.”
“I highly doubt that.”
Wesley highly doubted it, too. But with all the jockeys and trainers about, no way could Nora cause any riots. Only mild mayhem at most. Worst-case scenario was she’d offend a few jockeys with pony-play jokes. It would be a miracle if he could get her through the day without her testing out the riding crops on somebody.
They entered the stall where the mare his father wanted to look at stood pawing at the ground. High-strung and well-muscled, she would make a terrible companion horse, but probably could outrun any gelding on the field. The veterinarian and his father talked about her stats and vitals while Wesley pretended to read her pedigree. Good genes that went all the way back to Ruffian. If his dad knew what he was doing, he’d put the mare and Farewell to Charms together. They’d have one hell of a runner with that genetic cocktail, probably a Derby winner. Maybe even the first Triple Crown winner since Affirmed in 1978. The money would pour into The Rails with a Triple Crown. The most famous horse farm in the industry would become a legend throughout the world.
And Wesley couldn’t care less.
“Son?”
“Huh?” Wesley looked at his father. “Oh, yeah. Could work.”
His father nodded, reading Wesley’s agreement in the blank expression on his face. A mare like this would cost money—lots of it. Wesley had learned his poker face early on. His father had enough money to buy and sell the entire state of Kentucky ten time times before breakfast, but he had all that money because he never spent a cent more than necessary.
The mare settled down long enough for Wesley to give her a pat on her flank. The horse’s taut muscle twitched under his hands. Feisty thing. She and Nora would get along well. Nora…a year and a half hadn’t changed her at all. He still couldn’t quite believe it had happened, poof, she was back in his life again. All that time apart disappeared in one instant, in one embrace, in one sentence she’d groaned in his ear when she’d wrapped her arms around him.
God, you need a haircut.
Wesley still couldn’t think about it without smiling. And yet he’d been so terrified at first. He still couldn’t quite believe Søren was allowing Nora to be with him. But as much as Wesley hated Søren, he couldn’t deny that the priest would do anything to protect the woman he considered his property, even giving her up.
Søren…who was he? For two years Nora had talked about the man, mourned his absence from her life and her bed, tried to hate him, tried to stay away from, tried to convince Wesley he wasn’t the monster he thought…. But until this summer, Wesley had never met him. And as soon as he had, Wesley regretted it. Seeing that six-foot-four blond priest who looked like…looked like exactly the opposite of what he’d wanted him to look like.
Nora once tried to describe Søren to Wesley. “Think Sting plus Jeremy Irons, but taller, sexier, and scarier than both of them combined.”
“You’re not exaggerating a little, are you?”
“Wesley, I wouldn’t exaggerate or commit hyperbole for a billion dollars in a million years.”
“Nora.”
And that wild light in Nora’s eye had flickered and the smile faded from her face.
“He has the most beautiful mouth of any man I’ve ever seen…” she’d said then, talking more to herself than Wesley. “Tender…and cruel.”
“Tender and cruel? You sound like one of your own books now,” Wesley had teased, hoping to bring her smile back. It scared him when she got like this, when she looked past him instead of at him, and he knew she’d gone back to Søren. At least in her mind.
“Wait until you meet him,” she’d said, inhaling and forcing her smile back. “Then tell me how right I am.”
She’d been right.
Nora’s bedroom had been the last place Wesley expected to meet the man. When Wesley and Nora lived together, the temptation to sneak off one Sunday morning and attend Mass at Sacred Heart had nearly overwhelmed him at times. But something told him that would be a dangerous mistake. He knew Nora still loved her priest, and the last thing Wesley wanted to do was give the man the satisfaction of knowing he was intimidated by him.
Especially since Søren wasn’t remotely intimidated by Wesley.
But Wesley refused to be intimidated another minute more by Søren or Nora’s feelings for him.
After all…just ahead of him, standing by the paddock and flirting with Jon Huntley, one of the trainers at Calumet, was the one and only Nora Sutherlin…his Nora here in Kentucky with him, with Wesley.
And he had Søren to thank for that.
Wesley still recalled his shock when he’d pushed past Søren, ready to flee Nora’s house and the presence of the man who’d made a habit of turning her flawless pale skin black-and-blue.
But Søren had spoken the words that Wesley knew would change his life even before the priest had elaborated.
Wesley…I need to ask a favor of you.
Slowly, Wesley had turned around and faced the priest once again.
“A favor? What?” He heard hatred in his voice. It sounded so foreign. Wesley didn’t hate anyone, or didn’t think he did. Not until that moment.
“As I said, things are happening. I’m concerned that Eleanor is at risk. I’d like her to leave the area for some time. I’d hoped that Kingsley and I could remedy the situation while she was upstate this summer, but unfortunately…”
“Wait. What? You want me—”
“I know who you are, Wesley. I know what you are. I knew before I even allowed you to move in with Eleanor.”
“Allowed? What do you mean, you ‘allowed’ me to move in with Ele—with Nora? She asked me. I said yes.”
Søren smiled then and that smile had drawn a line down the center of Wesley’s back with an icicle.
“Eleanor is watched.”
Wesley had taken a step forward in fury.
“You unbelievable asshole. You spy on your own girlfriend?”
“It’s hardly spying, Wesley. Eleanor is my property. It’s my obligation to see to her safety. You lock the door to your car and never leave it on dangerous streets. Why? So it won’t get stolen. I see that Eleanor is watched so she won’t be harmed. It is the same principle.”
“Except Nora isn’t a car or a house. She’s a person.”
“Yes. And therefore infinitely more precious than any other chattel. Which is why the instant she took an interest in you, I had Kingsley find out who you were.”
Wesley hadn’t said anything at that point. He’d feared he would end up killing Søren or being killed by him with the next words he’d said. Nora and chattel used in the same sentence. Then and there Wesley decided he would do whatever it took to get Nora away from this man and keep her away from him…forever.
“The Prince of Kentucky. That’s what they call you, isn’t it?”
Wesley’s jaw clenched. “Unfortunately.”
Søren raised an eyebrow slightly.
“You never told Eleanor your family was worth roughly one billion dollars. Why is that, young man? You aren’t the deceptive sort.”
“People don’t look at you the same when you have money. I wanted her to see me as a person, as a man, not as…”
“Money.”
As much as he hated to agree with him, Wesley had nodded.
“Back home, I can’t even go to a fundraiser without it getting into the stupid gossip columns. I tried to visit some kids at a hospital and some nurse posted pics of me with those sick kids all over Facebook. I hate it. I hate that I’m John Wesley Railey, son of Jackson Railey of The Rails in Kentucky. I’ve got dollar signs all over me. I had a girlfriend in high school, Madison. Overheard her telling one of our friends she was only with me because it got her access to all the good parties in town. I didn’t want Nora to see me like that.”
“You do realize that Eleanor is as unimpressed with money as I am.”
Wesley shrugged. “I didn’t know that at the time. And it seemed to make her so happy to help me.”
“She does love her strays, doesn’t she? You were her favorite of all her puppies.”
The mocking tone in Søren’s voice had Wesley seeing red. And shortly after the red, he saw black. Wesley had rushed forward, intent on pushing Søren into the wall. The puppy had grown up. But with one seamless motion, Søren stepped to the side, wrapped a hand around Wesley’s neck and pushed him hard into the door.
His head smacked against the wood and his vision darkened for a split second. The whole thing had happened so fast, so gracefully, that he knew he’d never be able to defeat Søren with physical force. The man was unnaturally strong and had years of practice putting people in their place. But Wesley had something Søren didn’t have. And in that moment when he’d been pinned by his throat, Søren’s fingers digging into his neck, Wesley’s vision cleared and he knew what he would do.
“Behave yourself, young man. Eleanor’s very fond of you, and I’d hate to break one of her favorites. I’ll allow her to do that herself…if you’re willing to take her in, take her to Kentucky with you while Kingsley and I deal with some unfinished business.”
Wesley had swallowed and felt the sinews in his neck pressing against Søren’s hand.
“Is this how you win fights with Nora, too?” Wesley refused to give in to the panic that threatened to overwhelm him. “Choking her? Slamming her head against the wall?”
“I’m not holding you hard enough to even lightly constrict your airway. You flinched so much that’s why you hit your head. When I do this to Eleanor, she wets herself for reasons far different than the reasons you’re about to.”
“You’re a sadist. I know you’re enjoying this. I’m not going to give you the satisfaction of being scared of you.”
“Enjoy this?” Søren leaned in close and put his mouth near Wesley’s ear. “Forgive me, young man, but you really aren’t my type.”
Søren’s fingers pressed into his neck tighter, and Wesley inhaled in silent terror.
“Or maybe you are….” Søren whispered. And then, as suddenly as he started, Søren let go and stepped back.
Wesley rubbed his throat and took heavy gulps of air. “If she comes with me, I’ll do everything I can to make sure she doesn’t come back,” he vowed.
“She always comes back to me, Wesley. You know that.”
“You haven’t seen my world. You’ve got a church. I’ve got a castle. You’ve got a vow of poverty. I’ve got more money than God. You can’t even be seen in public with her. I can stand in front of a thousand cameras with the whole world watching, and kiss her.”
Taking a deep breath, Wesley turned and stared at Søren. He saw something then in his eyes.
A flash of fear.
Suddenly there. Suddenly gone. But Wesley had seen it. And it gave him the hope he needed. If Søren feared Nora would stay with him in Kentucky, then Wesley knew he had a chance.
“Fine. Yes. I’ll take Nora with me to Kentucky. She can stay with me forever if she wants. I’ll keep her safe, but since you won’t be there, that kind of goes without saying.”
“Very well. Once she returns to the city, I’ll send for you.”
Wesley turned to leave Nora’s house…their house.
“I won’t let her go back to you,” Wesley said. “Fair warning.”
Søren narrowed his eyes at him and smiled. “Won’t let her?” he repeated. “Why, Wesley, you’re starting to sound like one of us.”
“Wesley?”
Shaken back to the present, Wesley spun around and found Nora standing behind him, holding a horse by the bridle.
“Nora…what are you—”
“Can I have him? He’s cute.”
Nora grinned at him before turning her head and kissing the horse on the snout. The animal exhaled as he shook his mane.
“His name is Spanks for Nothing. It’s destiny. We belong together.”
Groaning, Wesley walked over to Nora and took the horse by the bridle. “Nora…you can’t go around taking horses out of their stalls. That’s kind of frowned upon around here.”
“He followed me.”
“He did not.”
“No, but I did.” The voice came from behind the horse. Wesley looked over the back of Spanks for Nothing and saw a tall, handsome man of obvious Middle Eastern descent smiling at Nora.
Wesley’s eyes widened. Nora giggled. The man came around the horse and stood beside her.
“Wesley, this is my friend—”
“Talel bint Nassar II,” Wesley said, extending his hand.
“You’ve met?” Nora asked, smiling at first him and then at Talel.
“That’s what I was going to ask you.” Wesley saw Talel wink at Nora. Wink? One of the sons of a Middle Eastern king just winked at Nora? “You’ve met?”
Nora nodded with a grin. “Oh, yeah. We’re old friends. Talel and I go way back.”
“How is the car treating you, my dear?” Talel spoke beautiful English, more fluent in the language than a lot of Kentuckians Wesley had encountered. Not surprising, considering his Oxford degree and the years he spent in the United States. Everyone around the racing industry knew Talel.
“Still purring like a kitten, as is her owner. Wes…Talel’s the friend who gave me my Aston Martin.” Nora gave him a sidelong stare. Nora had once hinted that a client of hers, a member of Middle Eastern royalty, had given her the sports car as a thank-you gift after a beautiful week together. Of course it would be one of the sheiks involved in horse racing. Talel was nearly as tall and handsome as Søren, although his opposite in some very key areas—dark-skinned where Søren was pale, black hair in contrast to Søren’s blond. And if he really was a client of Nora’s, that meant one thing and one thing only—the man was a sexual submissive.
Wesley suddenly had a vision of Talel on the ground with Nora standing on his back with a riding crop in her hand. The image gave him a perverse moment of pleasure.
“And how is it that you know the Prince of Kentucky, madam?” Talel asked as he took Nora’s hand and kissed the back of it gallantly.
“Wes and I used to live together. I’m down here visiting him for a while. He’s my—”
“Boyfriend.” Wesley said the word firmly and in a tone that brooked no argument. He waited for Nora to contradict him. She probably would. He didn’t even know why he said it other than Talel seemed a bit too happy to see Nora and Nora seemed way too happy to see him.
“Yes,” she said as she let go of Talel’s hand and reached for Wesley’s. “My boyfriend. Emphasis on the ‘boy.’ I’m having a Mrs. Robinson moment.”
“I’m not complaining.” Wesley kissed Nora on the top of her head. He loved kissing her there. She was a shrimp of a thing compared to him. She might tower over him with the size of her personality, but at least he had her beat on height.
“Nor should you, young man.” Talel reached out and shook Wesley’s hand. “You are blessed indeed to have such a great woman in your life. We are mere princes, you and I. But she is a queen.”
Nora nodded in agreement. “I can’t argue with that. Well, I could, but I’m not going to. Spanks for Nothing is Talel’s horse. He let me borrow him just to freak you out a little. Did it work?”
“You’ll have to do better than horse theft to freak me out. You are you, after all.”
“Good point.” Nora kissed Spanks for Nothing once more on his nose and handed him back to Talel. “Is he racing today?”
“He is. I wouldn’t bet on him if I were you, however. You’ve charmed him, milady, and a besotted horse is a distracted horse.”
Nora grinned ear to ear. “That’s terrible. We can’t have that.” Stepping forward, she laid her hands on the sides of Spanks for Nothing’s face and stared him in the eyes. “You have to win today. Win for me. Do you understand that?” The horse blew through his lips and Nora patted him on the head. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
“He would be foolish to disobey you, Mistress,” Talel said, guiding Spanks for Nothing back to the stables. “As would any man.”
“I like that guy,” Nora said. “He has fabulous taste in women.”
Wesley looked down at her. “I can’t believe you know Talel bint Nassar.”
“I can’t believe you know Talel. Does everyone in horse racing know each other?”
“Yes, actually,” Wesley said as they strolled past the paddock and toward the betting booths. “Does everyone in the kink world know each other?”
“Abso-fucking-lutely. At least the New York community does. I’m kind of amused at how much overlap there is. Griffin and Talel and you—”
“I’m not in the New York kink community.”
“Kingsley Edge has a file on you an inch thick in his office. Whether you like it or not, you are one of us. Guilt by association,” she said. “Now how do I bet on Spanks for Nothing?”
“That depends. Do you want to bet on him winning, placing or showing? You could get fancy and do a combination bet. Maybe a trifecta or superfecta.”
“No idea what that means.” Nora pulled out a hundred dollar bill and laid it down on the counter. “I want Spanks for Nothing to win. That is all.”
The woman in the betting booth handed Nora her ticket, and Wesley escorted her to the stands. They took their seats and Wesley pulled out his binoculars. Nice firm track. Hadn’t rained in at least a week. The running would be fast today. He loved introducing first-timers to horse races. They were always amazed by how quickly the race ended. On his best day, Wesley could run a mile in seven minutes. The fastest horse could do it in one hundred thirty-one seconds, barely over two minutes. It blew his mind when he thought about it—over a thousand pounds of horseflesh covering a full mile in two minutes. The horse industry, Thoroughbreds, the races…he’d grown up around them, and he’d long ago lost his interest in being a part of this world. But the horses themselves…they still amazed him.
A siren blew to alert everyone that the race would start in seconds. Nora grabbed the binoculars from him and turned her attention to the starting gate.
“Watch them burst out of the gates,” Wesley said. “That’s the most exciting part until the finish line. Those horses are so jacked up on adrenaline right now that it’s like a bomb going off when those gates open.”
“Sounds dangerous.”
“It is dangerous. That’s when a lot of accidents happen. Lots of horses have died right out of the gate. Broken ankles, broken legs. Lots of jockeys get hurt there, too.”
“Poor little guys.”
“Some jockeys are women, Nora.”
“Poor little girls.”
“Horse racing isn’t a pretty sport,” Wesley confessed. “The horses are bred for speed, not heartiness. Legs like twigs. They break easy and running that hard can make their lungs bleed. They’re breakable animals.”
“Breakable—just my type. Do racehorses really piss like racehorses?”
“If a horse has bleeding lungs they give it Lasix. It’s a diuretic. They can pee about twenty gallons.”
“Hmm…twenty gallons. Get enough chardonnay in me and I can give them a run for their money.”
“We can stop by the bar later. Or you can. I’m still underage.”
“Rub it in, junior. Seriously. Rub it in.” Nora turned her head and smiled wickedly at him before giving the race her full attention once more. Wesley blushed. He’d been trying not to think about tonight with Nora. He wanted to be able to walk around in public without a visible erection beneath his jeans. “Spanks for Nothing is leading. How much money will I make?”
“Couple thousand dollars. Long odds on him.”
“Sweet. I could use the money. Saw a riding crop in the gift shop I have to take home with me.”
“Nora, how many riding crops do you need?”
“Just one more. Like always.” Nora stood up and shouted “Go Spanks!” but her voice was drowned out by the roar of the crowd as the horses neared the finish. Spanks for Nothing did seem destined for a big win, by a few lengths at least.
Spanks for Nothing crossed the finish line a length and a half before the second-place horse.
Nora stood on her seat, shouted a few “fuck yeah”s that had Wesley both laughing and cringing at the same time.
“Let’s go get your money.” He took her by the hand and pulled her off the seat. They cashed out Nora’s winning ticket and she spent half her take at the gift shop buying T-shirts.
“What are all those for?” he asked. Nora didn’t wear
T-shirts very often and certainly not in size large.
“One for Griffin.”
“Of course.”
“One for Michael.”
“Who’s Michael?”
“His sub.”
“Why do I ask these questions?”
“One for Juliette.”
“Who?”
“Kingsley’s secretary. Well, she’s also his sexual property. He’s white and French. She’s black and Haitian.”
“That should be illegal.”
“They’re so cute together.”
“Your friends terrify me.”
“They’re harmless. Well, as long as you don’t piss them off. This one’s for Talel. He should have a memento of his big win today.” Nora threw the T-shirt over her shoulder and strode from the gift shop.
“He’ll have about a hundred thousand dollars in purse money and a wreath of roses and a trophy. Isn’t that enough of a souvenir?”
“Who would say no to a T-shirt?”
Wesley said nothing more, guessing Nora merely wanted an excuse to go talk to one of her kind again. He led her back to the stables and toward Spanks for Nothing’s stall. They’d be lucky to get to Talel. With that sort of win, he’d probably be surrounded by well-wishers and sports writers and others trying to let a piece of that victory rub off on them. Spanks for Nothing had proven himself a hot property today. The price of his stud fees had probably tripled. At least.
But a scene of celebration wasn’t what greeted them at they neared the stall. Wesley saw uniforms, track doctors, racing authorities…. It was a sight he’d seen before.
“Nora…let’s go.”
“No, I want to see Talel. What’s wrong?”
“Something.”
She stopped and gave him a searching look. He took her hand, but she pulled away quickly and forced herself through the crowd ahead.
“Talel?” she called out, and Wesley had no choice but to race after her.
“Nora, let’s go,” he said when he caught up to her, right in front of the stall. “Shit.”
“Wesley…” He heard the heartbreak in her voice, the distress, and he saw the reason why.
Big, beautiful Spanks for Nothing lay on his side in his stall, quiet and unmoving. Nothing seemed to be broken. Nothing seemed to be wrong. A sleeping horse…that was all. Except horses didn’t stay down for long and they certainly didn’t lie like that.
Talel knelt at the horse’s side, a track veterinarian whispering next to him.
“Come on, Nora. We can’t help here.”
Talel looked up and met Nora’s eyes.
“What happened?” she whispered.
“He’s dead.”