Author: Tiffany Reisz

Okay, Suzanne thought, so Nora Sutherlin was a babe. Interesting. And she wrote erotica. And in interviews she acted as though her books were pale shadows compared to her real life. Suzanne had read a few of the books. Hard to believe Nora Sutherlin could be living wilder than her characters. That would take a lot of effort. Suzanne remembered Patrick’s instructions—read file #1 first and then file #69. Classy,  Patrick, she thought. Very classy.

She double-clicked on file #69. The document inside contained only two sentences.

If  you want to know more, you have to have dinner with me, read sentence number one. But it was sentence number two that got Suzanne’s attention.

Nora Sutherlin is a world-famous dominatrix.

* * *

Michael groaned in ecstasy as Nora rubbed the backs of his legs with her incredibly talented hands. He’d been a little disappointed when Nora said they weren’t going to scene together or have sex yet. But a full-body massage from the one and only Nora Sutherlin? He couldn’t find much cause to complain.

“I’m the sub,” Michael said when Nora moved up to his back. “Shouldn’t I be giving you the massage?”

“You are the most stressed-out, tightly wound sub on the face of the earth,” Nora said, digging her strong fingers into the knot that was his back. “I can’t beat you up until you relax a little or you’ll pull every muscle in your body in our first session. Relax. That’s an order.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Michael said, tensing when she slid her hands into his boxers.

“Michael,” Nora said with obvious exasperation, “you just clenched your ass tighter than the second pair of Spanx on a drag queen. Did I forget to mention relax was an order?”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Michael said, laughing.

“What has gotten you so tense, Angel?” Nora pulled her hands away and stretched out on her side next to him.

Michael turned his head to face her.

“You’re my priest’s girlfriend. I’m in a stranger’s house. Both of my parents would freak out if they knew I was here.”

Nora reached out and caressed the arch of his cheek.

“Tell me the truth. Why are you really so stressed out?”

Swallowing hard, he rolled up and pulled his T-shirt back on.

He turned his face from her and stared out the window.

“There’s a huge swimming pool right out that window,” Michael said.

Nora smiled. “I know. You want to drain it and skate it, don’t you?”

“How did you know?” he asked, grinning sheepishly.

“I’m old. I’ve seen Gleaming the  Cube about a million times. Christian Slater as a blond punk skateboarder? The movie’s probably the reason I’m so attracted to blond men.”

“Never seen it.”

“We’ll rent it. Now answer the question. Why are you so stressed?”

Sighing, Michael pulled his legs to his chest and rested his chin on his knees.

“I don’t belong here, Nora. With you, with Griffin, in this house…this is crazy.”

Nora said nothing at first. She stood up and switched on the small bedside lamp. When he was a kid he had an ugly plastic Power Rangers lamp. Young Griffin had a Tiffany lamp.

“Get into bed,” Nora ordered.

“It’s only 10:30 p.m.,” Michael protested.

“I’m getting in with you.”

Michael couldn’t scramble under the covers fast enough. In the low light he watched Nora strip out of her shoes, skirt and blouse. Wearing only her black bra and barely there panties, she slid into bed next to him.

“Clothes off,” she said and Michael awkwardly stripped out of his shirt and boxers. “Good boy. Spoon with me—your back to my chest.”

Nervously Michael pressed into Nora, nearly groaning aloud as his skin met hers. He did groan aloud when she reached down and wrapped her hand around him.

“You’re not just taller,” she said into his ear. “You’ve gained a couple inches in another area too, I see.”

Michael blushed and said nothing.

“Now I’m going to do two things,” Nora said. “I’m going to give you an orgasm and tell you a bedtime story. Which do you want first?”

“Ah…orgasm?” Michael answered tentatively. If he didn’t come first, he probably wouldn’t be able to concentrate on a word Nora said.

“Understandable.” Nora tightened her grip on him, bit his shoulder and gently stroked upward. His body tensed hard at Nora’s touch and he released with a silent shiver. “Feel better?”

Michael nodded. “And wetter.”

“Leave it,” Nora said. “This is Griffin’s old bed. Trust me. Yours is not the first cum to hit these sheets. Bedtime story now. Ready? Say ‘Yes, ma’am.’”

His own personal bedtime story by Nora Sutherlin?

“Yes, ma’am,” Michael said with the closest thing he had in his verbal repertoire to gusto.

“Once upon a time,” Nora said, as she fluttered a series of kisses over his shoulders that sent every nerve in his body reeling, “a very poor girl from a fucked-up family became a famous writer with a wicked pen and an even more wicked tongue who made seven figures a year. And she went everywhere she wanted to and did everything she wanted to. And nobody ever tried to stop her. And she had her own pet Angel who needed to learn how to talk. So guess what she did?”

“What?” Michael asked. He laughed in surprise as Nora slammed him down onto his back and slid on top of him.

She brought her mouth onto his and forced his lips apart.

“She gave him her tongue.”

9

A gentle hand on her shoulder roused Nora from sleep. She turned over and saw Griffin standing next to Michael’s bed holding out her cell phone.

The Pope, he mouthed.

Nora nodded and took the phone. She turned and saw Michael curled up in the fetal position with his long lush eyelashes resting on his cheeks. For nearly an hour after sticking her tongue down his throat to make him laugh, they’d lain in his bed and talked. Well, she’d done most of the talking. But he’d listened and asked a few nervous questions about what would happen with them this summer, what she expected from him, what he needed. Finally he’d relaxed enough to fall asleep.

Carefully Nora slid out from under the covers. Griffin stood staring, obviously transfixed by the curve of Michael’s pale bare shoulder peeking out from under the sheets and glowing in the moonlight. Nora grabbed Griffin by the shirt and dragged him into the hall. She closed the door behind her and gave Griffin a stern stare.

“Yes, sir?” she said when Michael lay safely out of earshot.

“How are you, little one?” came Søren’s voice over the line.

“Lonely for a certain six-foot-four blond Scandinavian guy I know.”

Griffin started to go back into Michael’s room and Nora barred the closed door with her body.

“Anyone I know?” Søren asked.

“Alexander Skarsgård.” Griffin feinted to the right before attempting to duck under her arm. She raised her leg and braced it on the door frame to block him.

“I’m afraid I’m not familiar with the gentleman.”

“He’s a Swedish vampire. Anyway, how are you, sir?”

She heard Søren’s quiet laugh on the other end of the line.

“Intrigued.”

Nora’s blood momentarily turned to ice at the utterance of that word. Intrigued. Søren intrigued? This could not even begin to be a good thing.

“Intrigued by what? Or by whom, should I ask?”

“By a certain reporter who appeared at Mass this evening. Suzanne Kanter.”

Nora groaned and not just with worry but reluctant pleasure. Griffin had taken a different tack and now kissed the sensitive tendon where her neck met shoulder. As he kissed her, he unbuttoned his shirt to reveal the expanse of his muscled chest and stomach.

“Oh, God, she’s pretty, isn’t she?” she asked, not feeling the slightest shard of jealousy, but only fear. An intrigued Søren was a distracted Søren. She needed him cold, calculating and detached so he could deal with the mess swirling around him in Wakefield. Not intrigued.

“Yes, she’s lovely. Dark red hair, dark eyes, quite tall,” he said and she heard the slightest amorous tinge in his voice. Griffin unhooked her bra and started sliding it down her arms. “She would look exquisite on my St. Andrew’s Cross.”

Suddenly visions of newspaper headlines danced through her head.

Respected Catholic Priest Exposed as  S&M Lord

Catholic Priest’s Erotic Dungeon  Found

Accused S&M Priest Defrocked and  Excommunicated

Bestselling Erotica Writer Linked to  Excommunicated Priest

Bestselling Erotica Writer Found Guilty of  Statutory Rape

“We’re all going to jail,” she sighed.

“Eleanor, calm down,” Søren said, his voice now stern and commanding, just the way she liked it. “All will be well. I will handle Ms. Kanter. She came out of suspicion, not simple curiosity, and that is what intrigues me more than anything. For all of her smiles and polite posturing, she appeared to be absolutely terrified of me.”

“Terrified?” Nora repeated as Griffin nibbled at her hips while attempting to remove her underwear. Søren, unlike her, never exaggerated. She knew most people found Søren intimidating at first, what with his height, extraordinary handsomeness, his priest’s collar and his remote demeanor. And he could certainly scare the shit out of people when in the right mood. Zach Easton could testify to that. But terrified seemed uncalled-for unless this reporter had some sort of priest-phobia. She knew a few traumatized Catholic school graduates who nearly wet themselves around nuns and sisters.

“She must be Catholic,” Nora concluded.

“Lapsed,” Søren said. “Also, she’s a fan of yours. Or claims to be. Somehow she learned you attend Sacred Heart.”

“If she’s a fan then I have to like her,” Nora said, hating this reporter who’d come sniffing around Søren. Bad sign that the reporter already linked her with Søren. Things were getting sticky already.

Nora glanced down and discovered Griffin had succeeded in getting her completely naked and himself half-naked in the hallway. He brought his hand between her legs and lightly toyed with the tiny silver hoop that pierced her clitoral hood. She attempted to slap his hand away but he carried on, impervious to her defenses.

“What are you going to do?” she asked as Griffin slipped a finger into her while his other hand expertly teased her nipple. Michael being denied to him, Griffin had clearly decided to take his frustrated lust out on her. Against her will, her body started to respond to his gentle assault. At least a couple hours of kinky fucking would distract her from Søren worries.

“Anything I have to,” he said simply, the threat of Søren’s deep darkness in his words. “Take care of Michael. Keep Griffin away from him. You will be home with me where you belong soon enough.”

“Yes, sir,” she said, her stomach tightening both with both nervousness and arousal. “I love you.” Tears pricked at her eyes as she said the words. Not good. Just a few days apart and she already missed him enough to get weepy.

“I love you too, little one. Nothing and no one will keep us apart. Know that and believe it.”

“Trying,” she said and took a ragged breath.

Griffin took her bra and panties and his shirt and started heading down the hall toward the east wing. He turned back around and beckoned her with the condom package between his index and middle fingers. Which reminded her…

“Søren?” Nora asked sweetly. “Beloved priest of my heart? Can I ask a little favor?”