“I’m in my own bed today,” she said.
S?ren looked over her shoulder. Nora closed her eyes and winced. She knew exactly what S?ren was seeing. Two open beers on the coffee table.
“You still drink Achel Blonde,” S?ren said.
“It’s good stuff,” she said.
“I know,” he said. “I’m the one who introduced you to it.”
He met her eyes and Nora refused to look away.
“You should go,” she said. “If someone sees you here...”
“Of course,” he said, his tone even. “I see that you’re safe. That’s all I needed to see. I’ll leave you to your guest.”
He turned to leave and Nora stepped out onto the porch.
“S?ren?”
“Eleanor, it’s forty degrees out. Put on shoes if you’re going to stand outside.”
“I’m an adult,” she reminded him. “I’m not fifteen anymore.”
“An adult would wear shoes in forty-degree weather.”
She stared at him and shook her head.
“You...” she said. “You are infuriating.”
“Me? Because I don’t want you getting frostbite?”
“Because you will not move on.”
“I will when you do,” S?ren said. “And don’t pretend you’ve moved on simply because you’re sleeping with someone else tonight. My housekeeper comes tomorrow. I have to change the sheets before she cleans my bedroom. There are stains on them. Yours and mine. I haven’t had to do that since the last time you spent the night with me.”
“Last time you called me and asked me to come to you.”
“And you came when I called. You came several times if I remember correctly, and I always remember correctly.”
“That was just sex.”
“Say that again. I might believe you.”
“It. Was. Just. Sex.”
He raised his chin and looked down at her. With his eyes narrowed he said softly, “No...still don’t believe you.”
“Find someone else to fuck,” Nora said.
“Find someone else to fuck?” he repeated. “Is that your answer for everything?”
“It’s working for me,” she said. “You should try it.”
“Who do you suggest?” he asked, his voice as cold but conversational—a trap, obviously. “You have someone in mind?”
“There’s always Kingsley.”
“Kingsley is finally moving on himself,” S?ren said. “I have never seen him as happy as he is with Juliette.”
“Then you’ve never seen him with you.” She crossed her arms tighter across her chest. “Okay, not Kingsley. Someone else. Anyone else. Stop living in the past. I’m not there anymore.”
“Eleanor, I’m not going to take another lover simply to assuage your guilt for leaving me.”
“No, you’re going to play the heartbroken celibate martyr until I come back to you out of guilt. Now you’ve fucked me and you’ve fucked Kingsley since becoming a priest so don’t pretend to be saint or a virgin or worse—monogamous. The only reason you haven’t moved on and found someone else to love is because you know if you do, then I’ll finally be able to move on, too. This is one more example of your sadism.”
“That’s an astute observation, Little One. You’re more intelligent than you look.”
“Do I look stupid today for some reason?”
“You’re standing outside in forty-degree weather with no shoes on. You’ve certainly looked more intelligent than you do now.”
Nora’s fingers curled into a fist. One of these days he was going to be on the receiving end of her sadism, and he wasn’t going to like it.
“Have you ever considered the possibility I want you to find someone else to love for you? For your sake?” she asked, trying to stay calm.
“No.”
Nora laughed although she found none of this funny.
“Anyone on earth...” she began and stopped. She had to take a deep breath before she could start again. “Anyone on earth would be blessed to be loved by you. I was. Maybe I want you to move on and find someone else for her sake.”
“Or you could stop running from me.”
“This isn’t running,” she said looking down at her bare feet that ached on the cold floor of her porch. “This is standing. Standing and living my life. I’m not your property anymore. I submitted to your from the age of fifteen to twenty-seven. That’s twelve years. I’ve been a Domme for two years. I’m not ready to give this up yet. I’m just finding out who I am finally.”
“Mine,” S?ren said. “You are mine. That’s who you are.”
“And you wonder why I’m not running back to you?”
He looked her up and down and smiled coldly to himself.
“Put your shoes on, Eleanor.”
And without another word he turned and walked away. She didn’t give him the satisfaction of watching him go. She stepped back into her house, shut and locked the door behind her and winced in agony.
He was right. She should have put on some fucking shoes. Standing outside barefoot in forty-degree weather was incredibly stupid.