SOUTH
Nora woke up on the pillow across from Wesley’s. Only a few inches of sheets and fourteen years separated them. But in the early morning light, Wesley seemed a stranger to her. Where had her boy gone? The boy that had followed her around her house in Connecticut like a puppy, ticking off everything she needed to do that week lest she be arrested for tax evasion, evicted for not paying her mortgage or hospitalized for not eating…where had he gone? Her Wes…her Brown Eyes…the kid she teased and tormented. Hell, she’d even called him Purity Ring half the time they were living together, until Wesley begged her on his hands and knees to stop.
As she watched him sleep she couldn’t help but think of all those nights she’d stood in the doorway to his bedroom and listened to the slow, rhythmic breathing that signaled he’d fallen into deepest sleep. She didn’t know quite why it comforted her so much, hearing Wesley breathe in his sleep, but she couldn’t get enough of it. After leaving Søren, she didn’t make much of a habit of sleeping with others. She’d get in, get what she wanted and get out. An 11:00 a.m. breakfast on her own worked just fine for her. Then, suddenly, she had this kid in her house who got up at 7:30 a.m…even on the damn weekends. And he cooked breakfast for her. And balanced her checkbook. And made sure the bills got paid on time. During that one summer they’d lived together, he’d even mowed the lawn once a week.
Living with Wesley had given her the most horrible thoughts. One night she’d sat on the edge of his bed and read the first chapter of her new novel to him. Later, in her own bed, she’d wondered if being a mother would be that much fun—reading books by Dr. Seuss or Lewis Carroll to her own son. Then, a week later, Wesley would have to unclog her bathroom drain—too much of her damn hair had gotten caught in the U-bend again. And she’d watch him under the sink and think that maybe being married to a semi-normal guy wouldn’t be the soul-sucking nightmare she’d always imagined it would be. And when she’d written at her desk for too long, and every square inch of her body ached like it had been beaten in the not-fun way, and Wesley dragged her to her room, put her into bed and rubbed her back with his big, strong hands that knew how to make the pain go away inside and out, she’d think that not only might it be okay to be married to semi-normal guy, but she might even kind of like it.
Maybe more than just kind of.
Nora reached out and touched Wesley’s dark blond hair. Maybe she could get used to it being this long. Maybe. As long as it didn’t cover his eyes. Wesley stirred in his sleep and pushed closer to her. He settled back down again quickly and Nora smiled when he grunted softly and buried his face in the pillow. Gently, so as not to wake him, she lifted the sheets for a second. Naked. They were both completely naked and in Wesley’s bed together. After they’d made love on the dock, they’d straightened their clothes and returned to the guesthouse. Nora had assumed she and Wesley would get into bed and sleep, but sleep had been the last thing on his mind. As soon as they’d entered the house, the clothes had come flying off. They’d had sex twice before they’d even hit the bed—once in the entryway the minute they’d gotten in the door and once in the hallway only feet from the bedroom. Both times Nora had ended up on her back with her legs wide-open and Wesley on top and inside her. So strange…she never had sex like this, in basic missionary position. No pain, no bondage, no nothing but their two bodies joined together. Never had she imagined she could enjoy sex that simple. Wesley had been on top both times, but he certainly hadn’t been dominating her. With every initial penetration, he asked if it was okay, if he needed to do something different to make her feel better. She whispered words of instruction in his ear, words of encouragement. She’d never done anything like that with Søren. Sex with Søren was one of the rare times Nora shut up. He needed no instructions, required no encouragement. Had she tried either with him he would have gagged her in seconds and not let her speak again until he was done with her. And when inside her, he was always on top, while Nora ended up on her stomach or her hands and knees. They did have sex in missionary position on occasion. The last time, he’d sliced her open with a razor blade first.
All she ever said to Søren while he was inside her was, “yes, sir” or “no, sir” or more often simply, “I love you, sir.”
Once in Wesley’s bed, Nora put the boy on his back and climbed on top of him. Wesley seemed immediately uncomfortable with the position.
“What’s wrong?” she’d asked him as she came down onto her hands and let her nipples brush his chest.
“I…it feels weird.”
“Weird? How?”
“I don’t know. Just weird. My…it’s sort of a weird angle. Good view, though.” He caressed her breasts and Nora sighed.
“Okay, but I’ve got to get you into something other than missionary. Vanilla is bad enough,” she’d teased as she rolled off him and onto her side. Wesley spooned into her and she felt his erection pressing against her lower back. Moving up, she tossed her top leg over his, took him in her hand and slid him inside her. Wesley gasped as he moved deeper into her. “Better?”
Wesley covered her neck and shoulder with kisses.
“Definitely. This…good. Very.” The words were lost in a mumble of more kisses all over her shoulders and back.
“Missionary and spooning,” she said as Wesley nuzzled her hair. “The Underground must never hear of this.”
Wesley had stopped moving then.
“Is this bad? Do you not like it?”
“Don’t stop. Don’t stop….” Nora reached behind her and grabbed his hip.
Laughing, Wesley resumed moving as ordered.
“I will never stop again.”
Nora pulled a pillow to her chest and rested her head on it as he continued his slow, sensual thrusts.
“No…I like it. I do. It’s just different for me. I’m either really dominant in bed—on top, him under me, usually tied down. Or…”
“Or?”
“I’m really submissive. Like with—”
“Yeah, I know.” Wesley lightly touched the tips of her nipples. “So what’s so different about it? Just the positions?”
He pushed in a little harder and deeper and Nora’s vagina clenched around him. After a few seconds she’d caught her breath enough to speak again.
“Um…no. It’s hard to explain. When I’m being the Domme or the sub, I fall into this role…. This other part of me takes over and I become the Nora Sutherlin if I’m on top. Or if I’m with Søren, I turn into his Little One.”
“Little One?”
Nora nodded. “That’s what he always calls me. It’s his pet name for me. He’s huge, you know.”
“We’ve met.”
Nora grinned at the disgust mixed with envy in Wesley’s voice.
“He’s six foot four. And I’m…not.”
“I can’t believe he calls you Little One. It’s so…”
“What?”
“Fatherly.”
Fatherly…Nora couldn’t really argue with that assessment. He was Father Stearns, after all. To the world, anyway. Within five minutes of meeting him, he’d told her his real name—Søren—and said she could and should call him that when no one else was around. Calling him Father Stearns had always seemed like an inside joke to her. Even after twenty years, she could hardly say it with a straight face.
And yet…he’d practically raised her. As soon as they’d met, her reliance on her parents, minimal to start with, had become nonexistent. She’d answered to him and him only. Even now…being here with Wesley had been Søren’s idea, Søren’s gift to her. But for the life of her, she couldn’t figure out why.
“Why…” she whispered across the sheets as Wesley stirred and opened his eyes.
“Why what?” he mumbled, pulling her close to him. For a minute he and Nora wrestled with arm placement. With Søren in the mornings, she’d simply drape herself across his broad chest—no arm wrestling necessary. She wasn’t used to this side-by-side, face-to-face, can’t-figure-out-where-everyone’s-arm-goes thing.
“What are you doing?” Wesley asked as Nora wriggled against him, trying to find a comfortable position.
“I think I’ll need to cut my arm off if we’re going to lie like this. Or you’ll have to cut yours off.”
“Nora, have you never cuddled before?”
“Not like this. Here. You lay on your back. I’ll lay on you.”
“Fine. Fine…” Wesley rolled onto his back and Nora collapsed onto his chest. He let out a puff of air as she scrambled into position. “Are you made of lead?”
“I’m solid muscle and evil. Stop bitching and cuddle me.”
Laughing, he wrapped his arms around her. “Yes, ma’am.”
Closing her eyes, Nora nestled against Wesley’s chest—not quite as broad as Søren’s, but warmer, closer. And Wesley’s young heart beat faster than Søren’s. Was that his natural rate or just a side effect of having a naked woman on his body?
“How are you this morning?” Nora asked, turning her eyes up to his.
“Good.” Wesley nodded after he’d paused to think about his answer. “Really good. I feel like I could do anything I wanted today.”
“Welcome to afterglow. It’s nice, right?”
“Very. They should sell this stuff on the black market.”
“They do. It’s called pot.”
“Kentucky’s unofficial number-one cash crop.”
Nora’s eyes widened. “I like this state more and more every day.”
Groaning, Wesley sat up and sent Nora sliding onto her back. He slapped her lightly on the bottom and she yelped much louder than necessary. Wesley stared at her with shock.
“Sorry,” she said. “Force of habit. What?”
“Let’s go. Clothes on.”
“Both of those are horrible ideas. Why and where?”
“We’ve gotta figure out what happened to Spanks for Nothing.”
“Really? We are?” Nora crawled off the bed and started throwing clothes on.
“Yeah. You said Talel’s a good guy and wouldn’t kill his own horse. If you believe in him, so do I. After all, no horse owner in his right mind would kill their own moneymaker. Not unless they were completely desperate for quick money.”
“And Talel has money, so that can’t be it. Any theories?” Nora pulled on her jeans and T-shirt. She probably should have taken a shower, but she didn’t want to waste the time and she sort of enjoyed smelling like sex with Wesley. Maybe more than sort of.
“Nope. Let’s just go over there and talk.”
“Good plan. You talk. I’ll…not talk.”
“Deal.”
In ten minutes time they were in Nora’s Aston Martin, heading down the parkway.
“Where are we going?” Nora asked as they took an exit. She’d let Wesley drive, since he knew the way and she planned to imbibe extraordinary amounts of coffee.
“Paris.”
Nora choked on her coffee.
“Paris? That’s a little more than a day trip, Wes.”
“Paris, Kentucky. That’s where Talel’s farm is. Well, one of them.”
“How many damn farms does he have?”
“Two less than we do.” Wesley glanced at her and winked.
Nora rolled her eyes. “So much for my semi-normal guy fantasy.”
“What? Who’s a semi-normal guy?”
“You are. Or were. When we lived together, I would catch myself thinking about how nice it was to be with a semi-normal guy. I mean, semi in that you’re way hotter than actual normal guys. And smarter. And a virgin. Well, you were back then. But now you’re not. You’ve got more money than God. Or at least more than Talel.”
“Well, it’s my parents’, really. But I’ll inherit it all someday, I guess. Ten thousand acres at last count, including the satellite farms in Maryland and Tennessee. Two hundred horses in training. Five or six hundred broodmares and yearlings.”
Nora turned away from him to stare out the car window. She’d never seen so many miles of green in her life.
“What will you do with this empire of yours?”
Wesley shook his head. “I don’t know. The amount of work my father does every day—it’s insane. He’s gotten up at 4:30 a.m. every day for as long as I can remember. He looks strong and healthy, but he’s been fighting ulcers since I was ten.”
“Sell it.”
“What?”
“Sell it. Sell it all. Get rid of it if you don’t want it. You went to college in Connecticut, never told me one word about your life here. We went horseback riding, but only for fun. You want to be a doctor, not run an empire, right?”
“Right.”
“Then sell it. Griffin sold off his grandfather’s horses. Never looked back.”
“This farm is a legend. And it’s been in my family for generations. It’s my father’s obsession. It’s my father’s legacy.”
“Stealing cars, chopping them up and getting whacked by the mob is my father’s legacy, Wes. Just because our parents care about something doesn’t mean we have to.”
Wesley shook his head. “Can’t do it. I’d never forgive myself for selling The Rails.”
“Then what’s the other option?”
“I don’t know. Mom and I talked about it. She said I should marry a woman into horses and let her run the farm, while I did whatever I wanted. Mom’s allergic to horses. She has to take shots every week just to breathe through her nose.”
Nora laughed. “I like your mom. Good thinking. We’ll have to find you a wife who’s really into this shit so you can go play doctor.”
“I’d rather have a wife who’s into me.”
“That’s crazy talk.”
Nora and Wesley crazy talked all the way to Paris. When they drove up to Unstableside Farms, Nora couldn’t help but gasp aloud again.
“What?” Wesley demanded.
“Wesley, this is insane. Why does everyone in Kentucky live in a fucking palace?”
“Clearly, I need to take to you to eastern Kentucky. You’re getting a very skewed perception of this state.”
“Eastern Kentucky? What’s there?”
“Ever seen Deliverance?”
Nora pushed her sunglasses on and scoffed. “Seen it, Wes? I’ve lived it.”
Wesley rolled his eyes as he parked the car in the circular driveway in front of the massive colonial manor that comprised the main house at Unstableside.
“Unstable? Adorable,” Nora said. “Talel has a little too much fun with his English.”
“He gives his horses the most fun names. Mom names all our horses and she’s real conservative. No BDSM references.”
“I want to name a horse.”
“If you stay here, you can name all the horses from now on.”
Nora’s heart tightened at the smile on Wesley’s face. She was so used to Søren loving her that it hardly registered anymore. Søren’s love was like the sky—huge and ubiquitous, always there without fail. She no more expected his love to go away than she would ever imagine walking outside at night and seeing a void where the stars should be. But Wesley’s love…it seemed so strange to her, so novel. Where had it come from? And why? She would understand the origin of the stars before she ever got why this beautiful boy, so sweet and pure, would love a woman like her.
Wesley rang the bell at Talel’s front door and took her hand as they waited.
“So we can just drive up here and ring the bell?” Nora asked, shocked by the lack of security.
“Nope. We can’t. But I can.” He grinned at her again and Nora stuck her tongue out.
“Fine. I get it. You own Kentucky. When we go back to New York, I’m going to take you places only I can get us into.”
“Do we have to?”
“Have to what? Go into places only I can get us into?”
“No…” Wesley’s smile left his face. “Go back to New York.”
Nora sighed heavily as she squeezed his hand. “This is your world, kid. Not mine. You know I don’t belong here.”
“You told me once you loved it down south.”
“I was talking about anal sex.”
“Of course you were.”
The door opened and Wesley started to introduce himself to the young woman who’d answered. She ushered them in before Wesley could even get his name out.
When the woman turned her back, Nora stuck her tongue out at Wesley.
“Big shot,” she mouthed.
“Big money,” he replied, not sounding terribly impressed with himself. Nora could sympathize. Wesley didn’t really care about horse racing. During the year and a half they’d lived together, he’d talked at length about his med-school dreams…becoming a pediatrician, treating kids like himself, with type 1 diabetes and other diseases. Helping people, helping children. He cared as much about his family money as Søren cared about his. Søren had given away every cent he’d inherited. His trust fund had gone to Kingsley, and had financed the Underground empire. The bulk of his inheritance he’d given to his two sisters. As a Catholic parish priest he made about thirty thousand dollars a year. Of course, with Kingsley around, Søren had access to anything and everything he needed. And Nora kept him well supplied with grand pianos and high-thread-count Egyptian cotton sheets. Even when he told her not to.
Nora squeezed Wesley’s hand as Talel—wearing jeans and a black shirt and looking as exotically handsome as usual—came down the stairs toward them with a smile on his face.
“It’s always a good day when the Prince of Kentucky and the Queen of the Underground come calling.” Talel shook Wesley’s hand and kissed Nora on the cheek.
“Ex-Queen of the Underground,” she told him. “I’ve retired.”
“I heard the rumors. I didn’t believe them, then. I don’t believe them now. Let me take you to the stables and hand you a riding crop. We’ll see how long it takes before you start swatting someone with it.”
Nora released a wistful sigh. “I do miss all my riding crops. I kept the red one, of course.”
“You’d be Arthur without Excalibur had you given it up. Now, to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?” Talel asked as he ushered them into the front room.
Nora’s eyes widened at all the silver cups and trophies that littered the massive living room. They sat on the fireplace mantel, the windowsills, on shelves and tables and podiums. Ribbons spilled out of the cups. Sashes draped across the trophies.
“Damn.” She nodded in approval.
“If you’re impressed by my winnings,” Talel said as he beamed his smile around the room, “it’s only because you haven’t seen the trophy room at The Rails.”
“No, I haven’t. Why is that, Wes?”
“Because Dad won’t let you in the house,” Wesley reminded her.
“Right. Forgot. Anyway, Talel…we just came by about Spanks for Nothing. What the hell happened?”
Talel sighed heavily and shook his head. “We’re trying to find that out. He was on some medication for some slight congestion. Possibly the dose was off. I can’t say for certain. It’s a tragedy. Amazing horse. Impressive speed and stamina. Could run on any track. Headed for the Derby.”
“And he was cute, too,” Nora said, frowning.
“And he was cute.” Talel gave her hand a quick squeeze.
“Who’s investigating?” Wesley asked, not even glancing at the trophies around the room. Nora saw him staring directly at Talel. Surely Wesley didn’t suspect him of any foul play.
“The usual—the track veterinarian, the insurance company. Spanks for Nothing was insured for forty.” He shrugged as he straightened a blue ribbon.
Nora felt her eyes nearly explode from her face.
“Forty million?”
“We were being conservative. Such a waste…” Talel sighed. “I’m trying not to think about it too much until they’ve finished the investigation. I don’t want heads to roll. I’m sure whatever happened was simply an accident. I’d just like my horse back.”
“I know how you feel,” Wesley said. “We lost Aphorism to colic last year. Dad acted like he’d lost his best friend.”
“Aphorism was a fine animal. Impressive specimen. As was Spanks. But we’ve a few fine specimens left.”
“Do you mind if we tour the stables?” Wesley asked. “Dad told Nora she’s not allowed near our horses. She’s been in the mood to play with the ponies.”
Talel paused a moment before answering. “Of course. I’d love to accompany you, but I’ve nothing but meetings today, about the incident. Should I get my manager for you?”
Wesley waved his hand. “We’ll find our way around.”
“Forgive me, but please, visit the stallion barn only. Our other barns are going through some renovations right now. For your safety. The stallions are in the main stable.”
“Definitely,” Wesley said. “Nora just wants to see some horses.”
Nora kept her face composed. Mr. Railey hadn’t banned her from the stables. He’d probably thought about it, but he hadn’t outright said she couldn’t be around the horses.
“Mistress, a pleasure as always.” Talel kissed her on both cheeks, and she patted him on top of his head, as patronizingly as she could.
“For old times’ sake.”
She and Wesley left the house and paused on the porch.
“What?” she asked as Wesley exhaled loudly through his nose.
“Something’s smelly.”
“That’s all the horseshit. I think I got some on my shoe.” Nora lifted her foot.
“Not literally smelly. I don’t know. Something’s weird about Spanks for Nothing. Talel should be more upset about it. That horse was a money machine. And forty million’s about what he’d make in one year on stud fees.”
“And?”
“Some horses live for twenty years or more. That horse could have brought in one or two hundred million dollars over the next five to ten years.”
“But Talel’s richer than God. That’s pocket change to him.”
“Nora, a hundred million dollars isn’t pocket change to anybody. Come on.”
She followed Wesley to the car, and in silence they drove half a mile to where half a dozen stables stood in a ring at the end of the drive. They left the car and walked to the nearest one. Nora whistled when they stepped inside.
“Wesley, this is ridiculous,” she said, glancing around. “I know Connecticut insurance execs whose houses aren’t as well decorated as these damn stables.”
“Tell me about it. The Rails has swimming pools for the horses, heated stalls, spas…. Our top horses get massages, have homeopaths doing acupressure on them…. It’s crazy how spoiled these damn animals are.”
They walked up and down the center corridor of the stable. Horses poked their heads out and whinnied peevishly at them. Nora reached out to pet one and Wesley pulled her hand back.
“I know, I know. These are Thoroughbreds, not kittens. They bite.”
“Exactly. And they bite hard.”
“So do I,” Nora said, baring her teeth at him. A big brown horse chomped at her and Nora growled in reply. He gave her a shocked look before retreating into his stall. “What, pray tell, are we—shit—!”
Nora grabbed the back of Wesley’s shirt as she tripped on something and nearly fell.
“Nora? You okay?”
“What the fuck? I kicked something. Sorry.” She bent down and dug through the straw, pulling up a piece of rotted wood with a rusted silver hinge attached to the end.
Wesley took the board from her hands and examined it.
“Weird.”
“Weird, what?” she asked.
Wesley didn’t answer. Turning around, he walked down the corridor again, pausing at each stall.
“Wes…what is going on?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. Come on. Let’s go see the mares.”
With the rotted board in one hand, he grabbed her with the other and nearly dragged her from the stallion stable.
“Talel asked us to stay in the stallion barn.”
“I know. That’s why we’re not staying here. The stallions are the big money. They’re the ones everyone cares about. Those are the prizewinners in there. I want to see how the other half lives.”
Wesley seemed on high alert as they left the stallion stable and headed down a path toward a white barn with green trim. It looked just as elegant and well-maintained, but when he reached the door and saw a big silver padlock hanging off the door handle, he swore.
“Dammit. Locked.” He stared at it with such intensity Nora thought he was trying to open it with sheer mental power.
“Why would anyone lock up the mares, but not lock up the prizewinning stallions?”
“That’s my question.”
“Well, better find out the answer, then.”
Nora pushed past Wesley, opened her bag and pulled out her lock-pick set. “Cover me.”
“Nora, what are you doing?”
“Stop freaking out. I’m just picking the lock. Give me a second.”
“How do you know how to pick locks? And why do you have a lock-pick set in your purse?”
“Wesley, my boy, I got arrested at age fifteen. That was arrest number one. There have been twelve since. You get arrested as many times as I have, and you start planning for all contingencies.”
“Nora…”
She popped the padlock and it fell off the handle. They slipped inside the barn and closed the door behind them.
“Fine.” She turned her face up to Wesley. “Søren’s really into bondage. Huge shocker, right?”
“I’m stunned beyond words.”
Nora rolled her eyes. “I learned how to pick locks to piss him off. I wanted him to know that anything he put me into, I could get out of. Even if I didn’t try.”
“Why? I thought you loved him.”
“I do love him. Love and having an escape plan are not mutually exclusive. They are, in fact, both highly recommended.” Nora found a light switch and flicked it on. “Now this is weird.”
“Yeah, tell me about it.”
In silence they studied the stable. It was empty. Completely empty. No horses. No horse tack. No staff. No jockeys. No nothing. Just old straw on the floor rotting away in the sweltering darkness.
“Looks like it’s been empty for a long time.” Wesley peeked his head into every stall.
“Feels like it, too. Weird putting a lock on an empty stable and not on the one full of moneymaking horses.”
“Let’s check out the others.”
“I’ve got my picks.”
Nora followed Wesley from the second stable to the third. Again they found it padlocked. Again they found it empty. The fourth and fifth stables were also empty. No horses. No nothing.
“What the hell is going on?” Wesley stood in the final stable and stared at the nothingness it contained.
“You tell me. You’re the horse expert.”
“I don’t know. Unless Talel’s moved all his horses to another farm…. Makes no sense. A farm this size should have hundreds of horses—yearlings, stallions, broodmares. Even if he’d moved all his horses to another farm, he should at least have some mares here that he’s boarding for others. We’re boarding about a hundred horses that aren’t ours.”
“I should go ask him. He’ll tell me anything.”
“Don’t ask him. Not yet. I want to ask some of my own questions first.”
“Like what?”
Wesley held up the board from the stallion stable. “Fresh paint over rotting wood, Nora? My first question is going to be why can’t a billionaire afford to fix his broken stall doors?”
Nora looked at the wood and then looked up at Wesley. He saw something in her eyes, something like understanding. He waited, but she didn’t seem willing to enlighten him. Heavily, she exhaled, as the light in her eyes went out again.
“Damn good question.”