“What happened to the kid?” Michael whispered and Nora pulled her eyes away from the evening sky.
“What kid?”
Michael raised his head off her lap and simply stared at her. Nora sighed heavily.
“Oh, that kid.”
“I don’t talk much, but I do listen.”
“Too damn well apparently,” Nora said, laughing without joy or mirth. God, this was about the last thing she ever wanted to talk about. “You really want to know?”
Michael nodded.
“Maybe it’ll distract me from worrying about Griffin.” Michael sat up and pulled his knees tight into his chest.
Poor thing…love shouldn’t have to hurt this much, Nora thought before realizing what blasphemy such a sentiment was in their world. Would she ever know what love without pain felt like? Did such a thing even exist?
“I was twenty-seven,” she began, turning her eyes back to the setting sun. “And so in love with your priest I couldn’t see straight. But for a long time, I’d felt…incomplete, I guess is the best word for it. I hung out at Kingsley’s a lot in my twenties—it was the only place your priest and I could really be ourselves together. You remember that hot French guy who came on to you in the Rolls Royce?”
Michael grinned. “Won’t ever forget that guy.”
“That guy owns New York. At least the Underground parts of it. He’s got the hottest submissives, doms and dominatrixes in the world on his payroll. They’re in and out of his town house all the time. And I would watch the dominatrixes and just stare at them. They were so beautiful, so powerful. Even the male dominants gave them a wide berth. You expect men to be tough and strong and in charge. But when you meet a woman like that? It’s mind-blowing. I ached for what they had. Don’t get me wrong, I love submitting to your priest. It fulfilled me like nothing else. But it never fulfilled me completely.”
“I can’t imagine,” Michael said with a shrug. “I guess I don’t have a dominant bone in my body.”
“You don’t. I’m sure of it. And that’s fine. I envy you. Being a switch is no party. The doms don’t quite trust you. The subs don’t quite get you. Just being one thing or the other would be so simple… It’s like being bisexual. Best of both worlds. Worst of both worlds.”
“Tell me about it.”
Nora squeezed Michael’s knee.
“You know your priest has not one but two PhDs.”
Michael blinked. “Really? In what?”
“Got his first one in his twenties in theology, of course. But when I was twenty-six, twenty-seven, he was working on PhD number two in Canon Law. Søren is, to say the least, a nerd.”
Michael’s eyes went wide just before he burst into laughter. What a wonderful sound, hearing Michael laugh like that—so loud, so boisterous, so open. At the very least, the summer at Griffin’s had made him learn to speak up a little.
“So your sexy nerd priest went to Rome to finish his dissertation at the Gregorianum. He never left me alone when he went away for his trips. He’d always leave me with another dominant to keep an eye on me. I didn’t really understand that then. First time he did I was only twenty-three years old and he drops me off as this mansion in butt-fucking nowhere New England with this brutally hot widowed librarian.”
“Seriously?”
Nora rolled her eyes. “Seriously. Søren told me he knew I’d be good for this guy, Daniel. And I was. And he was good for me too. Being with him that week made me realize how much I truly loved your priest and that being with him was worth the sacrifices. And that was the plan. Every time Søren left me, it was a test. Would I still be there when he came back?”
“So what happened when you were twenty-seven?”
“He left me with Kingsley for three months.” Nora closed her eyes and let her mind wander back to that time. She remembered the hot tears on her face as Søren had kissed her goodbye and warned her to be a good girl and do whatever Kingsley said. He promised her a hundred presents from Rome, a letter every week… She couldn’t bear being apart from him for so long. Her stomach ached at the very thought of it and continued to ache for weeks. Well, she thought it was his absence that caused the pain in her lower stomach. “I was sick,” she said, opening her eyes. “Kidney infection. Two-week course of very strong antibiotics. Didn’t think anything of it. Sort of forgot that birth control pills and antibiotics don’t mix.”
Michael didn’t speak and Nora didn’t want to. But she took a breath and carried on.
“It was just a few days before your priest was supposed to return from Rome. I woke up in Kingsley’s bed sick as a damn dog. I barely made it to the bathroom in time. Puked so hard I thought my ribs would splinter.”
Michael winced so dramatically Nora almost laughed.
“Yeah, pregnancy isn’t the glorious and beautiful thing the movies make it out to be. It’s gross and painful and miserable. And no one in their right mind would ever do it on purpose. So I did it for all of…well, about one day.”
“What did you do?”
Nora would never forget rolling onto the floor and curling up in the fetal position after throwing up for a solid ten minutes. The cool tiles felt like heaven on her fevered clammy skin.
Slowly her eyes fluttered open and she found Kingsley staring at her with his dark, knowing eyes.
“What kid?”
Michael raised his head off her lap and simply stared at her. Nora sighed heavily.
“Oh, that kid.”
“I don’t talk much, but I do listen.”
“Too damn well apparently,” Nora said, laughing without joy or mirth. God, this was about the last thing she ever wanted to talk about. “You really want to know?”
Michael nodded.
“Maybe it’ll distract me from worrying about Griffin.” Michael sat up and pulled his knees tight into his chest.
Poor thing…love shouldn’t have to hurt this much, Nora thought before realizing what blasphemy such a sentiment was in their world. Would she ever know what love without pain felt like? Did such a thing even exist?
“I was twenty-seven,” she began, turning her eyes back to the setting sun. “And so in love with your priest I couldn’t see straight. But for a long time, I’d felt…incomplete, I guess is the best word for it. I hung out at Kingsley’s a lot in my twenties—it was the only place your priest and I could really be ourselves together. You remember that hot French guy who came on to you in the Rolls Royce?”
Michael grinned. “Won’t ever forget that guy.”
“That guy owns New York. At least the Underground parts of it. He’s got the hottest submissives, doms and dominatrixes in the world on his payroll. They’re in and out of his town house all the time. And I would watch the dominatrixes and just stare at them. They were so beautiful, so powerful. Even the male dominants gave them a wide berth. You expect men to be tough and strong and in charge. But when you meet a woman like that? It’s mind-blowing. I ached for what they had. Don’t get me wrong, I love submitting to your priest. It fulfilled me like nothing else. But it never fulfilled me completely.”
“I can’t imagine,” Michael said with a shrug. “I guess I don’t have a dominant bone in my body.”
“You don’t. I’m sure of it. And that’s fine. I envy you. Being a switch is no party. The doms don’t quite trust you. The subs don’t quite get you. Just being one thing or the other would be so simple… It’s like being bisexual. Best of both worlds. Worst of both worlds.”
“Tell me about it.”
Nora squeezed Michael’s knee.
“You know your priest has not one but two PhDs.”
Michael blinked. “Really? In what?”
“Got his first one in his twenties in theology, of course. But when I was twenty-six, twenty-seven, he was working on PhD number two in Canon Law. Søren is, to say the least, a nerd.”
Michael’s eyes went wide just before he burst into laughter. What a wonderful sound, hearing Michael laugh like that—so loud, so boisterous, so open. At the very least, the summer at Griffin’s had made him learn to speak up a little.
“So your sexy nerd priest went to Rome to finish his dissertation at the Gregorianum. He never left me alone when he went away for his trips. He’d always leave me with another dominant to keep an eye on me. I didn’t really understand that then. First time he did I was only twenty-three years old and he drops me off as this mansion in butt-fucking nowhere New England with this brutally hot widowed librarian.”
“Seriously?”
Nora rolled her eyes. “Seriously. Søren told me he knew I’d be good for this guy, Daniel. And I was. And he was good for me too. Being with him that week made me realize how much I truly loved your priest and that being with him was worth the sacrifices. And that was the plan. Every time Søren left me, it was a test. Would I still be there when he came back?”
“So what happened when you were twenty-seven?”
“He left me with Kingsley for three months.” Nora closed her eyes and let her mind wander back to that time. She remembered the hot tears on her face as Søren had kissed her goodbye and warned her to be a good girl and do whatever Kingsley said. He promised her a hundred presents from Rome, a letter every week… She couldn’t bear being apart from him for so long. Her stomach ached at the very thought of it and continued to ache for weeks. Well, she thought it was his absence that caused the pain in her lower stomach. “I was sick,” she said, opening her eyes. “Kidney infection. Two-week course of very strong antibiotics. Didn’t think anything of it. Sort of forgot that birth control pills and antibiotics don’t mix.”
Michael didn’t speak and Nora didn’t want to. But she took a breath and carried on.
“It was just a few days before your priest was supposed to return from Rome. I woke up in Kingsley’s bed sick as a damn dog. I barely made it to the bathroom in time. Puked so hard I thought my ribs would splinter.”
Michael winced so dramatically Nora almost laughed.
“Yeah, pregnancy isn’t the glorious and beautiful thing the movies make it out to be. It’s gross and painful and miserable. And no one in their right mind would ever do it on purpose. So I did it for all of…well, about one day.”
“What did you do?”
Nora would never forget rolling onto the floor and curling up in the fetal position after throwing up for a solid ten minutes. The cool tiles felt like heaven on her fevered clammy skin.
Slowly her eyes fluttered open and she found Kingsley staring at her with his dark, knowing eyes.
