“You’re wearing saran wrap and nothing else.”
“That is not true. I’ve worn saran wrap before and it looks nothing like this. This is La Perla.”
“It’s La Transparent. Pajamas have substance to them. They are made of cotton or equally opaque fabrics. If I’m going to live with you without losing my mind—”
“Or your virginity,” she teased.
“You need to wear real pajamas around me. That’s final.”
He’d gone off to school in a huff that day. When he came home she surprised him with a little pajama fashion show. First the sock monkeys, then the penguins, then the baby ducks wearing galoshes on their little feet.
“Better?” she’d asked.
Wesley had grinned at her as he reached out and buttoned the topmost button of her baby-duck pj’s. She’d feigned choking although she felt quite comfortable with a tight collar around her neck. Wesley had undone the button again, and for a moment their eyes had met and she wanted nothing more in the world than for him to keep going. His fingers shook enough that she knew he’d been tempted to do just that.
Wesley had smiled at her and whispered, “Perfect.”
“He’s perfect, Nora.”
The words pulled her out of the past. Turning around she saw Griffin coming into the guest bedroom he’d given her, the room right next to his, naturally, looking both annoyed and aroused.
“Nobody’s perfect, Griffin,” Nora said, throwing her duckies into a drawer. “Except Søren.”
“Søren’s not perfect.”
Nora stared at Griffin. “Bastard priest lied to me.”
Griffin rolled his eyes. “Michael’s perfect. He’s my dream man…boy. Whatever. Holy shit, Nora.” Griffin threw himself across her bed. He picked up a pair of handcuffs and laid them on his face like a giant pair of glasses.
“Very fetching.” Nora removed the handcuffs from Griffin’s face and put them in her bondage-gear pile on the end of the bed. “Did you finish his checklist?”
“Yeah. Junior’s a freak. I’m in love.”
Nora threw her thigh-high boots in the closet.
“You aren’t in love.”
“Would you buy ‘love with honorable intentions’?”
“Nope.”
Griffin glared at her.
“Griffin Fiske, you know as well as I do you’ve never had a relationship that lasted longer than three weeks. And that was when you were cheating on your girlfriend with her stepbrother. You just met Michael.”
“Yeah, so? How long did it take for you to fall in love with the Pope?”
Nora smiled to herself. “Two to three seconds. But that lasted about one week before I decided I hated him.”
“It is pretty impressive how long you two have lasted.” She heard the grudging respect in Griffin’s tone. Griffin had scores of lovers and approximately zero serious relationships under his belt. “What’s your secret?”
“Well, Søren has great staying power. And it does help I’m still in love with him. Helps even more that I still hate him,” she said, suddenly not wanting to talk about Søren. It hurt too much knowing it could be two months or more before she saw him again. “So what’s up with Michael’s checklist? Anything I need to know?”
Griffin flipped over and dug the papers out of his back pocket. Nora made the bad decision to join him on the bed. It took all of two seconds before she landed flat on her back with Griffin slapping the handcuffs from her bondage pile onto her wrists.
“That reminds me,” Nora said, relaxing into the grip of the cuffs, “I need to call my editor.”
“You can call him after I f**k you.”
“Can you f**k me after we talk about Michael’s checklist?”
Griffin collapsed next to her and left her lying on her stomach still cuffed. Groaning in frustration, Nora used her shoulder to flip herself onto her side.
“Checklist first, then f**king. What’s up with junior?”
“Sex stuff? Fives across the board. Horny little twerp.”
“He’s seventeen.”
“Point taken.”
“What else?” Nora asked.
“No big fetishes. No watersports or anything.”
“Good,” Nora said, “I have a shy bladder.”
“The usual kink works for him,” Griffin continued. “Bondage is good, all kinds. Pain is good, all kinds. This was weird though,” Griffin said as he flipped to the last page.
“What?”
“He wants pain and domination. All fours and fives in that area. But when I asked about cutting, he gave it a big number one. Weird, huh?”
Nora’s mind immediately went to the scars on Michael’s wrists. Didn’t seem weird to her at all—he’d had more than enough cutting in his life already.
“I hate bastinado,” Nora said, trying to deflect Griffin’s attention. If Michael wanted Griffin to know about his suicide attempt, she’d let Michael tell him. “Do whatever you want to me but don’t beat my feet. I’m ticklish.”
Griffin raised an eyebrow at her. “Duly noted. Oh, he doesn’t like yelling, either.”
Nora sighed. That probably came from Michael’s ass**le father.
“I was never a fan of yelling at my clients. Hard on the throat. Plus a really good dominant can put the fear of God into a sub with a whisper. Søren certainly can.”
“That is not true. I’ve worn saran wrap before and it looks nothing like this. This is La Perla.”
“It’s La Transparent. Pajamas have substance to them. They are made of cotton or equally opaque fabrics. If I’m going to live with you without losing my mind—”
“Or your virginity,” she teased.
“You need to wear real pajamas around me. That’s final.”
He’d gone off to school in a huff that day. When he came home she surprised him with a little pajama fashion show. First the sock monkeys, then the penguins, then the baby ducks wearing galoshes on their little feet.
“Better?” she’d asked.
Wesley had grinned at her as he reached out and buttoned the topmost button of her baby-duck pj’s. She’d feigned choking although she felt quite comfortable with a tight collar around her neck. Wesley had undone the button again, and for a moment their eyes had met and she wanted nothing more in the world than for him to keep going. His fingers shook enough that she knew he’d been tempted to do just that.
Wesley had smiled at her and whispered, “Perfect.”
“He’s perfect, Nora.”
The words pulled her out of the past. Turning around she saw Griffin coming into the guest bedroom he’d given her, the room right next to his, naturally, looking both annoyed and aroused.
“Nobody’s perfect, Griffin,” Nora said, throwing her duckies into a drawer. “Except Søren.”
“Søren’s not perfect.”
Nora stared at Griffin. “Bastard priest lied to me.”
Griffin rolled his eyes. “Michael’s perfect. He’s my dream man…boy. Whatever. Holy shit, Nora.” Griffin threw himself across her bed. He picked up a pair of handcuffs and laid them on his face like a giant pair of glasses.
“Very fetching.” Nora removed the handcuffs from Griffin’s face and put them in her bondage-gear pile on the end of the bed. “Did you finish his checklist?”
“Yeah. Junior’s a freak. I’m in love.”
Nora threw her thigh-high boots in the closet.
“You aren’t in love.”
“Would you buy ‘love with honorable intentions’?”
“Nope.”
Griffin glared at her.
“Griffin Fiske, you know as well as I do you’ve never had a relationship that lasted longer than three weeks. And that was when you were cheating on your girlfriend with her stepbrother. You just met Michael.”
“Yeah, so? How long did it take for you to fall in love with the Pope?”
Nora smiled to herself. “Two to three seconds. But that lasted about one week before I decided I hated him.”
“It is pretty impressive how long you two have lasted.” She heard the grudging respect in Griffin’s tone. Griffin had scores of lovers and approximately zero serious relationships under his belt. “What’s your secret?”
“Well, Søren has great staying power. And it does help I’m still in love with him. Helps even more that I still hate him,” she said, suddenly not wanting to talk about Søren. It hurt too much knowing it could be two months or more before she saw him again. “So what’s up with Michael’s checklist? Anything I need to know?”
Griffin flipped over and dug the papers out of his back pocket. Nora made the bad decision to join him on the bed. It took all of two seconds before she landed flat on her back with Griffin slapping the handcuffs from her bondage pile onto her wrists.
“That reminds me,” Nora said, relaxing into the grip of the cuffs, “I need to call my editor.”
“You can call him after I f**k you.”
“Can you f**k me after we talk about Michael’s checklist?”
Griffin collapsed next to her and left her lying on her stomach still cuffed. Groaning in frustration, Nora used her shoulder to flip herself onto her side.
“Checklist first, then f**king. What’s up with junior?”
“Sex stuff? Fives across the board. Horny little twerp.”
“He’s seventeen.”
“Point taken.”
“What else?” Nora asked.
“No big fetishes. No watersports or anything.”
“Good,” Nora said, “I have a shy bladder.”
“The usual kink works for him,” Griffin continued. “Bondage is good, all kinds. Pain is good, all kinds. This was weird though,” Griffin said as he flipped to the last page.
“What?”
“He wants pain and domination. All fours and fives in that area. But when I asked about cutting, he gave it a big number one. Weird, huh?”
Nora’s mind immediately went to the scars on Michael’s wrists. Didn’t seem weird to her at all—he’d had more than enough cutting in his life already.
“I hate bastinado,” Nora said, trying to deflect Griffin’s attention. If Michael wanted Griffin to know about his suicide attempt, she’d let Michael tell him. “Do whatever you want to me but don’t beat my feet. I’m ticklish.”
Griffin raised an eyebrow at her. “Duly noted. Oh, he doesn’t like yelling, either.”
Nora sighed. That probably came from Michael’s ass**le father.
“I was never a fan of yelling at my clients. Hard on the throat. Plus a really good dominant can put the fear of God into a sub with a whisper. Søren certainly can.”
