Obsession (11 page)

“Did these hurt?” She asked,
absently tracing the feathers of his tattoos.

“Of course.”
They had taken six sittings to complete and it had been agony, but the pain had been so cathartic. He could see how easily ink became an addiction.

He didn’t wash her hair, although he’d have liked to. By the time he got to her shoulders
, she was too exhausted and shaken to stand anymore, so he shut off the water and towelled her down, carrying her through to the bedroom like a precious
objet d’art
. He took his time drying in between her fingers and toes with soft cotton, lifting her upright so that he could blow dry her hair as she slumped against him with weariness.

When she was finally dry to his satisfaction, he pulled the covers over her.
“Sleep.” He whispered, kissing her forehead. “It will be morning soon and this will all seem like a crazy dream.” He waited a few minutes until her breathing evened out and then got to his feet. Someone had to clean up the play room and there was no way he was leaving it for the housekeeper.

When he awoke the next morning, Noelle was sat on the side of the bed gazing out of the window.

“Good morning.” He mumbled sleepily. “How are you feeling?”

“You set me up.” It wasn’t accusatory, just a statement of fact, and she didn’t resist when he looped his arms around her waist and pulled her back down to spoon with him. “You set me up.” She said again, softer this time. “It was only ever about the punishment, wasn’t it? You knew I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from coming. The whole thing was just a prelude to the punishment.”

“Yes.” He didn’t see any point in lying.

“I don’t understand.” She sounded confused. “You had me there tied up. You were in control. Why was it necessary to do it that way, to make me feel like I was being punished?”

“Because this is all still so new to you.”
He kissed the top of her shoulder. “We’re still breaking boundaries here. If I’d come at you cold and asked for that, you’d have safe-worded straight off the bat. I needed to get you into a frame of mind where you were more open to the possibilities. It’s crazy and illogical, but psychologically you felt on some level that you
did
need to be punished and you let me do it.”

“That’s so messed up.”
She still didn’t sound freaked out, just a little confused, and he squeezed her close.

“You knew I was messed up when you agreed to stay.” He pointed out. “I did tell you the consequences of stepping into the play room.”

“I know. Just give me some time to adjust. I feel like I’ve had the ground blown out of my world.”

“Take all the time you need.” He kissed her shoulder again. “Are you hungry? Do you want me to go and make waffles?”

“I don’t know.” For the first time she sounded amused. “I’m starving, but if you get up that means you won’t be cuddling me anymore.”

“We have nothing to do today except wrap presents.” He pointed out. “I can go and make waffles and then we can spend the day cuddling on the couch.”

“It’s Christmas Eve.” She pointed out. “I have to get everything ready for dinner tomorrow.”

“That won’t take long. I’ll help.”
Reluctantly he released her. “Go get your dressing gown on. I’ll make the breakfast.”

She watched as he strode naked across the bedroom, grabbing his robe from the door on the way past, shaking her head. He was like a force of nature
. God help anyone that tried to stand in his way.

True to his word, they ate breakfast and then cuddled up on the sofa to watch Christmas movies until lunch time. Noelle wasn’t sore, but as she moved around the kitchen making lunch she was definitely aware of the way her body had been used. It was a bizarre feeling, like she was made of plasticine that had been stretched out of shape and re-moulded to something that approximated her body. She still couldn’t quite believe what she’d let happen to her, but worse was that she didn’t know how she felt about it. Gabriel had overwhelmed her from the moment they met. His charm, generosity and wickedness had blown away her reservations about his damaged soul
, and she realised now that she was in very real danger of falling for him and falling hard. There was a tiny, yet hard to ignore, part of her that was secretly pleased she’d had something to give him that was her first. She tried to imagine a lifetime of allowing him to expand her sexual experiences and it was nowhere near as scary a concept as it should have been.

“What are you thinking?” He asked, perching on the stool by the breakfast bar, watching her make salad. “Your eyes have gone all distant.”

“I was trying to imagine what you’re going to do when you’re old.” She admitted. “Somehow I just can’t imagine being tied down to the table in my sixties. You’ll have to keep exchanging for younger models.”

“I’ll book you into extra
yoga classes.” He grinned. “Wrinkles can be overlooked in the face of flexibility.”

“You cheeky bastard!”
She gaped at him and he roared with laughter, catching her by the waist and pulling her in for an affectionate hug.

“I’m kidding. You’ll always be beautiful to me.” He kissed her forehead and then released her. “Does the fact you’re thinking about me being old mean you’re thinking about something long term here?” He asked curiously and she shrugged.

“I’m not thinking anything.” She said honestly. “You know me Gabriel. I like to live in the moment. Why would I waste the excitement of today worrying about what all of our tomorrows might bring?” He made a moue and she blinked at him. “What does that face mean?”

He looked a bizarre blend of pained and pleased. “It’s...well....I don’t know if that statement makes me happy or irritated.” He tried to explain. “The guy part of me is happy you don’t want commitment
, but my heart is kicking the crap out of itself because you’re not dreaming of a bright future together.”

“It’s still early days.” She reminded him. “Let’s just see where our feet take us.”

“Okay.” He grinned. “Are they taking us towards lunch? I’m starving.”

They spent the afternoon in separate rooms, wrapping presents while soft music played throughout the house. Gabriel had recordings of ancient Christmas carols sung
a capella
by a cathedral choir and it was achingly beautiful. Every now and then a particularly poignant clash of notes would sound and Noelle had to stop what she was doing to listen. She’d never felt this way about Christmas before. When she was a child it had all been about the gifts and the food. After her parents had died it had been about grieving. Family holidays just weren’t the same when you didn’t have any family. This year, everything about her had been flayed raw and left open, and the whole of it was surrounded by this incredible music. For the first time she was examining her place in the world and it shook her how lonely it was. Surrounding herself with the children at the school had seemed like enough for her for so many years, but then Gabriel had crashed into her life and turned it upside down.

She thought about the music, how it seemed to form a counterpoint to what was going on in her soul,
soothing against the maelstrom of her experiences, and realised for the first time how angry she was with God. Ever since the accident that had taken away her mother and father, she’d told herself that God didn’t exist. If there was a God, how could He allow such things to happen? How could He have allowed her tiny world to be ripped apart by something as innocuous as a sheet of black ice on the road?

Gabriel had taken everything she knew about herself and thrown it out of the window, all the while playing her this music that forced her to examine the darkest recesses of her being. As each not
e trembled and ached in the air around her, she couldn’t deny that she wanted the comfort of a church, of a benevolent God. In accepting that, she realised she had never believed He didn’t exist. In her hurt she’d just been denying Him. The revelation was shattering. How could she want comfort from a faith that hadn’t protected her parents?

She had promised Gabriel she would attend midnight
mass in the city with him that night, but she knew it would be hard. It would be the first time she had attended church since the funeral. It forced Gabriel’s place in her life into the spotlight. Everything about him was sin, from his looks to the things he did to her. She had been so sure that he would be the one to send her straight to hell, with his wicked ways and subversive ideas, but he had cracked her shell wide open and let the music pour in. If she returned to the church, Gabriel had been her salvation. He was aptly named, she thought with dry amusement. The Archangel Gabriel had been both implacable and righteous.

She struggled with her thoughts all through dinner and the film they watched afterwards, remaining in silence as the credits rolled. Gabriel watched quietly as she changed into a smart jersey dress and boots.

“Are you okay?” He asked, as he put her beautiful damson coat around her, letting his arms linger comfortingly around her shoulders.

“I haven’t been to church since my parents’ funeral.” She said quietly. “God and I don’t exactly see eye to eye.”

“You should have said.” He started removing his coat. “We don’t have to go.”

“No, I want to.” She caught his hands, pulling his coat closed again.
“I’m ready. I just didn’t know until you opened my eyes.”

“Only if you’re sure.”
He met her gaze steadily and she nodded.

“I’m sure.”

As they travelled down into the city, she watched his profile in the
passing lights. “Did you ever lose your faith?” She asked. “After your childhood, I mean.”

“I couldn’t afford to.” His jaw flexed as remembered pain forced his teeth to clench. “I had to believe that there was a reason for it, that God had tested me, or I’d have gone crazy.”

That made sense. “Tell me about your childhood.” She asked softly.

“You can’t fix me Noelle.” He glanced across at her and she sighed.

“I’m not trying to fix you. I’m trying to understand you.” She toyed with a button on her coat. “I don’t understand how your faith can be so unwavering while your soul can be so damaged.”

“It was the music.”
He said after a short pause. “The power of gospel to a damaged child is something that can never be put into words. When I left home, it was the church that gave me a way out.”

“You sang with a choir?” She asked and he nodded.

“It was transformative. At home I was an island under siege. At choir I was part of something greater, a union that was more than the sum of its parts. The church funded me through music school, gave me my career.”

“I bet it hurt when
the church denounced your music.” She probed gently and he shrugged.

“I talked about it with my pastor. He understood my reasons and knew that it was part of my healing.” He
reached across and squeezed her hand. “The only church that matters to me is fully behind me.”

“Is that where we’re going tonight?” She hadn’t known it was such a huge part of his life. He didn’t come across as being spiritual and she’d never listened closely enough to his music to hear if there was any gospel sound in it. There weren’t any crucifixes on display in his house
, or statues of the Virgin Mary on shelves. She didn’t think she’d even seen a bible anywhere amidst his books.

“Yes.”

“And do you speak to your pastor about your women?” She asked gently, wanting to know if she should be prepared for any questions.

“
What about them?”

“About your need to dominate and control them.”

“Why would I speak to my pastor about it?” He took her hand. “I don’t see there’s anything wrong with it. I know it’s not normal. I was worried it would frighten you away, but it’s not morally wrong.”

“You don’t think that your ideas about non-conformity with right and wrong are against the church’s teachings?” She blinked. “How can you justify that?”

“At the heart of it, having faith is about God, not the church’s interpretation of the bible.” He argued mildly. “I’m not harming anyone. I do my bit for charity. I believe. Just because I live by my own set of morals doesn’t mean I’m going straight to hell.”

She wasn’t sure she agreed with him, but Christmas Eve on the way to midnight
mass wasn’t really the right place for a difference of opinion on a theological argument. She filed it away to discuss it with him at a later date. “So will you be singing with the choir tonight?” She asked and he squeezed her hand.

“Normally I would be, but tonight I think I’ll sit with you.”

“As long as you’re not letting anyone down.” She traced circles on the back of his hand with her thumb. “I don’t mind sitting on my own.”

“They won’t mind.”
He smiled across at her and then released her hand so he could use both hands to park up.  “Stop worrying about it. They’ll love you.”

The mass was magical. The pastor turned out to be a wonderful man and the music was incredible. Although the sound swelling around them was too loud to hear Gabriel’s voice alone, Noelle could feel his song vibrating through her chest as he welcomed midnight and Christmas morning with her tucked safely under his arm. It lifted her heart and she didn’t realise she had tears on her face until he brushed them away.