The Angel
Page 30

 Tiffany Reisz

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“It’s the nursery,” Michael reiterated, feeling about five years old. Nora merely batted her eyelashes at him and kissed his cheek.
“Get settled in. I’ll be back for you later so we can start training.”
With that she flounced out of the room—an impressive feat considering her tight skirt and low-cut shirt weren’t even remotely flouncy—and left him alone.
Michael stood in the middle of the nursery and decided it wasn’t as bad as the name implied. In fact, the room, suite actually, was pretty impressive. In an arched alcove sat a sumptuous-looking full-size bed. A big bay window looked out onto a huge inground swimming pool. The pool…perfect, Michael thought, mentally draining it. Deep with perfectly sloped sides. He dreamed of skateboarding in swimming pools like that.
“She’s f**king with your head.”
Michael turned toward the voice and saw Nora’s friend Griffin standing in the doorway. Never before had Michael seen anyone quite like Griffin. Really tall and handsome and obviously all muscle, Griffin had hair that was kind of long but still spiked up in a way he’d only seen on male models with their own hair stylists. He had a slight crook in his nose as though it had been broken once and not fixed right. Instead of marring his appearance, it made him look more interesting, as if he’d really lived. He seemed young though. Too young to own a house this big and old. Michael guessed he was in his late twenties, if that.
“Nora is,” Griffin continued when Michael didn’t answer. “With the nursery thing.”
Michael nodded and stuffed his hands into his pockets.
“So she wasn’t kidding about you not talking,” Griffin said, coming into the room with Michael’s big army-green duffel bag over his shoulder. Michael nearly buckled under the weight of it but Griffin carried it like a backpack.
“Sorry,” Michael said. Earlier he’d been able to squeak out a hello to Griffin before they both got distracted at the sight of Nora kissing his driver.
“Better.” Griffin nodded his approval. “One word is better than no words.”
Michael tried to think of something to say, something a rich, handsome guy like Griffin would want to hear from him. He came up blank.
“Where do you want your stuff?” Griffin asked.
“Anywhere,” Michael said. Griffin gave him a stern look.
“You give me more than one word or I’m keeping your stuff,” Griffin warned.
“On the bed?” Michael offered.
Griffin held up one hand and ticked off something on his finger. “That’s five words total. Fabulous.”
Michael laughed and blushed a little. He held up his own hand and ticked off two fingers.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” Griffin said.
Pausing, Michael counted again on his fingers. He held up both hands.
“Ten words?” Griffin guessed and Michael nodded.
“Thanks for letting me stay here. Your house is awesome.”
“You’re welcome. The mistress and her friends, Søren excluded, are always welcome here.”
Michael smiled.
“Do you like the room?” Griffin asked.
“It’s really nice. For a nursery.”
“It’s an English nursery, not an American nursery. Suite of rooms in a big damn house to hide the kids. No Winnie-the-Pooh anywhere, I promise. Actually,” Griffin said, looking around his old room, “I think it was Noah’s ark when I was a baby. I’ve never gotten that, you know?”
“Gotten what?” Michael asked, unable to stop following Griffin with his eyes. Griffin was twice his size. Usually big muscular guys intimidated him. His father certainly used his large size to make everyone around him feel scared and small. For a dominant into kink, Griffin actually seemed really safe and friendly.
“Noah’s ark nursery decor. I’m not religious like you and the mistress, but if I’m not mistaken Noah’s ark was about the destruction of the entire world, right?”
“Right,” Michael agreed.
“Might as well decorate with the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse.”
Shrugging, Michael looked at the walls now painted an elegant light blue.
“Kids like ponies.”
Griffin turned around and stared at him before bursting into laughter.
“She didn’t tell me you were funny,” Griffin said, smiling at him. Michael blinked. Griffin had the kind of smile that shone so bright and white it made your eyes water.
“I didn’t know I was.”
“You are,” Griffin said, still staring at him. Michael flushed a little under the scrutiny. Nora did the intense staring thing too; so did Father S. Must be a dominant thing. Only reason Michael could come up with why a guy like Griffin would look at him so keenly. “Anyway,” Griffin continued as he seemed to remember something. “The mistress sent me to do your checklist. She thought you’d be more comfortable doing it with another guy. Your checklist, I mean.”
“Checklist?”
“A lot of doms do checklists with their partners before doing kink. That way the dom knows beforehand what you want and what you don’t. Helps prevent subby from having a freak-out in the middle of a scene. You know, don’t want to accidentally do cage-play with an ex-POW.”
“Whoops,” Michael agreed.
“Exactly. So get comfortable. This thing is like ten f**king pages long,” Griffin said, throwing himself into the bay window seat and crossing his legs. In his loose-fitting khakis and white shirt, he looked like a well-groomed beach bum. Michael looked around for a chair. Not seeing any he decided to behave like the submissive he was and just sit on the floor.