She turned and walked back into the bathroom, pushing aside the curtain to the shower and picking her white thong up from the floor of the tub. Her skirt rose up her thighs, her bottom neatly covered with the soft cotton, and with no panties preventing it, the thin material slipped between her buttocks. His cock lengthened. He wanted to take her right there in the bathroom, but knew he’d have no time. Emerson would be at the house any minute.

  With her panties dangling from her forefinger, she turned them over to him, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

  “I’m very disappointed in you. You’re better than this.”

  Her eyes brightened with her tears. “I’m sorry.”

  “We’ll take care of it after they leave. You’ll apologize to Emerson for not answering his text. Don’t defy me on this.” He dipped his chin in warning.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  He watched her ass wobble under the flowing skirt. Readjusting himself, he inhaled deeply. Christ, how he loved her and any chance he had to paddle that plump ass; he leapt at it. But he wouldn’t enjoy this punishment tonight…much. When giving orders and clear warnings, he expected complete submission, and she knew it. They’d been together for way too many years for her to openly defy him in this manner—in interfering with another couple’s relationship.

  No, he wouldn’t be happy administering this discipline, but obviously their dynamic needed some adjusting.

  Chelsea could feel the exhaustion of the day, her eyes were finally feeling heavy and she had begun to contemplate going home even though she was still unsure of what awaited her there.

  The doorbell rang and her heart jumped. She made eye contact with Anna, who shifted her gaze away from her. “Anna! Is that Emerson?”

  “Emerson, nice to see you. Please, come in.” Gustaaf’s deep, hearty voice carried to the living room.

  “I’m so glad Chelsea is here. I was so worried.” Emerson entered the living room, his gaze immediately on her. “My girl. How are you, sweets?” His faint dimple showed on his left cheek and she melted.

  “Emerson!” She ran to his arms. He smelled of his cologne, man, and… incense? Pulling away, she looked at him more than a little annoyed. “Where have you been all day? I…well I didn’t know where you were last night…and then today you were just… absent.”

  “I know. I know. I had no choice, but you’ll understand once it’s all been explained.” Still holding her hand, he turned to their friends. “Thank you for taking care of her. It’s nice to know she has such good friends. I promise this will be all cleared up tonight. I’m sorry I missed getting in touch with you, Anna, but I’m glad Gustaaf had his phone on. I don’t know what I would’ve done if I couldn’t have gotten a hold of you guys.”

  The worry in his voice had Chelsea feeling guilty; she hadn’t meant to worry him so. And then her own anger started to rise again, but he’d been gone all day…and last night as well. She just couldn’t imagine what he’d been doing and how he’d fix this.

  “Emerson.” Anna blushed furiously, her cheeks very red, she couldn’t even keep constant eye contact with him. “I need to apologize. My phone was on. I…well…I just chose to not answer it. I’m sorry.”

  And as always, Emerson was graceful and kind, never showing annoyance. “Oh, Anna, don’t you worry. I understand trying to protect someone you love and not wanting to add to their concern. You had my girl’s interests at heart and for that, I’ll always be grateful. You’re a good friend. Truly.” Raising one eyebrow toward Gustaaf and then regarding Anna again, he smiled saying, “But your man? He appears to be annoyed with your behavior. I think you’ll need to convince him that your intentions were well. You should beg for his forgiveness before mine, girl.”

  Anna’s mouth opened. She turned to Gustaaf before returning her gaze to Emerson, not speaking a word.

  Laughing, Emerson patted Chelsea’s back, guiding her down the long hallway toward the door. “I think we’ll leave these good folks to their discussion while we have one of our own. It appears, my girl, that your friend lives the same as we do.”

  Chapter 21

  The ride home was probably the most uncomfortable thing he’d done in a while and he could only hope that he didn’t ruin things with her. He held her hand tightly, watching her out of the corner of his eye.

  She nervously twirled her hair with her finger, making a long ringlet that hung by her face, pulling it and twirling it. Over and over and over. Looking out the window, she bit her lip nervously, only to have that face replaced with her nostrils flared and her lips thinned in anger. She warred with her emotions.

  Once he’d parked the car, pulling the emergency brake, they both exited, and he imagined that they looked as men walking into a courtroom for sentencing, each consumed with their own thoughts and goals, and hoping for the best.

  Shedding their coats and kicking off their shoes, they walked into the living room to sit on the couch comfortably for their discussion.

  “Okay, before you start, let me explain things. I know you’re worried and upset, and you’ve probably imagined every possible scenario today. I had no choice; I had to keep you in the dark—at least for a while.”

  “It better be good, Emerson. I’ve been through hell today.”

  “Me too. You’ll see why soon.” Pulling in a deep breath, he began. “I’ve been trying to find a way for us to marry someday…in the Catholic Church.”

  Her eyebrows creased. “But you can’t.”

  “Yes, I know. I sent a letter to His Holiness the Pope requesting dispensation. According to Canon Law, I’m still a priest and the sacrament of the priesthood cannot be taken away; it’s like baptism. I pointed out that the Church is now taking in married Episcopalian priests and requested that they consider letting me do the same. I won’t bore you with any more details, but they called me last night and asked me to fly to Rome to meet with several Cardinals.”

  “Oh my God! So that’s why you took the phone call in the office.”

  “Yes, I didn’t want to worry you needlessly, and…well…my plans failed because I worried you nonetheless. I’m so sorry.” He reached out, pulling her hand up to his lips, kissing the silky smooth skin gently.

  “You were in Rome?”

  “Yes, all day. I met with seven Cardinals, and we had some pretty intense debates over the priesthood, celibacy, Canon Law, and many other spiritual laws and rituals that would bore you to death.”

  “So what happened?”

  “When we finished our deliberations, they left me with my fancy plate of hors d’oeuvres while they gave the issue further consideration. Then His Holiness came out and met with me personally.”

  Her hand went to her mouth and tears filled her eyes before pulling him into her embrace for a hug.

  At that moment, Emerson couldn’t imagine loving her any more or any less. His heart burst knowing she felt such excitement and happiness in him meeting the Pope. “My God, Emerson, I’m just elated for you. The Pope! I don’t know one single person—well, I do now—who has met the Pope!”

  “I couldn’t believe when he came into the room and, of course, I had a mouth full of cheese and bread.” He rolled his eyes. “I meet the Pope looking like a five-year old trying to swallow behind a napkin before kissing his ring.”

  She laughed, hugging him again. “Did you feel like you may faint?”

  “Yes! I’ve dreamt of meeting him my whole life.”

  “Was it as good as you’d hoped?” She beamed back at him, her white teeth showing with her broad smile.

  “I think it may have been better. He was kind and gentle, and you want to hear something crazy?”

  She nodded vigorously.

  “He offered me a job in the Vatican City any time I should choose.”

  “Oh…okay.” Her face fell; the smile disappeared, quickly replaced with sadness…and worry.

  Her chest tightened—it was unbearably tight. She tried pulling in a deep breath, but it caught in her throat. Instead, she took short shallow breaths, convincing herself to not panic.

  Don’t panic! You won’t lose him again!

  “Oh no, girl. Don’t do this…listen to me. Listen.”

  She focused her attention on his eyes. One second at a time, just focus on one second at a time. She felt like she may faint.

  “Guess what he said?” He paused. “I can marry you in the Catholic Church. We’ll be married, just as we wanted. And the best part? I can bring you with me if we decide we want to live and work in Rome—at the Apostolic Palace in the Vatican City. We can choose where we want to go.”

  She blinked furiously. “You mean…I’m not losing you again?”

  He braced his hands on either side of her face. “No. You won’t lose me. Ever.” Sliding gracefully off the couch, he knelt before her. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a blue box, opening it to show her a single solitaire diamond in an intricately woven band.

  “Oh! Oh, Emerson!” She had not anticipated any of this today. She’d thought he was having an affair, and then losing him to the church, and now…this??

  He pulled it out and slipped it onto her finger. “Will you marry me, Chelsea Leigh Sanders?”

  “Yes! Oh my God, yes!” She stared at the ring, the clear rock sparkling blue in the light. She swore it was the most beautiful diamond she’d ever seen. Throwing herself at him, she screeched, squeezing him tighter than she probably should have.

  He laughed as he pulled away. “That’s not all. I have something else.”

  “Something else?”

  He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small black velvet bag. Loosening the strings, he pulled out two matching bracelets. “I wanted something that would be unique—just for us. While searching for a collar, I found that many couples are wearing bracelets that are like BDSM collars. They lock and only the Dom can undo them. It’s a reminder of our dynamic, something to wear every day. I struggled to find something that showed our D/s dynamic as well as our devotion to the Church and how…well, how it has played such a role in our lives—positive and negative.”

  He pulled out two black, gunmetal gray bracelets. “These titanium bracelets are durable and strong—like us.” He smiled weakly at her. “This cross in the center of the plate, it’s how we see ourselves. Our religion and the Church have always been in the center…or, in our past, it was in the middle, separating us. And these words engraved on the plate? They’re the Lord’s Prayer in Latin.”

  “Oh, Emerson. It’s beautiful.”

  “Only I’ll be able to take this off. It requires a special tool.” He slipped the bracelet on her arm, the metal gleaming.

  She never imagined years ago when he’d left to follow the calling in his life to become a priest that the day would ever come that she’d become engaged to him, renewing their relationship.

  It’s amazing how once she’d let go, given up on finding true love and had found a measure of peace in that regard, that the doors opened and she found him. She’d always heard that sometimes the only way to find your dreams is to first let them go. The concept had never made any sense to her.

  Chelsea had been someone who liked having control of her life, liked managing schedules and people. The thought of letting something go—especially something that was a vital part of her life—never made sense. But when she’d had to let David go, having pushed him away with her need for him to be a replica of Emerson, she knew that the dream of a true soul partner was something she also had to let go.

  She remembered sitting on her bed cross-legged, staring at pictures of both her wedding to David and her life with Emerson at college. The realization hitting her. Emerson was her soul mate. He fulfilled every inch of her—emotionally, physically, socially, and intellectually. The bible says that woman was made from a rib of the man, each sex not feeling complete until connected again. She understood that for the first time in her life. As a child, the concept seemed so weird. Why would God take a rib, of all things? And why would a man need to have that rib back if God had taken it away? If God did it, wouldn’t he take away the need too?

  It’s the draw—the unexplainable need to cleave to one another. Her desire to fill him, to make him feel whole and complete. In their dynamic, her submission and devotion met that need. And his authority and domination pulled her to be part of the whole, giving her life the meaning she’d been looking for.

  Her finger ran along the smooth dusky silver band. She liked feeling of the raised cross, the reminder of their past, present, and now their future.

  “Do you like it?” He looked concerned, his eyebrows knit, blinking slowly at her.

  “Yes, of course. How can you say that? They’re perfect—both of them. You’ve put so much thought into these; how long have you been planning this?”

  He shrugged, embarrassed. “To be honest, I think I’ve been planning this since the day I met you.” His eyes brightened with tears.

  Unable to contain herself, she flung herself at him. “I thought it was just me. I have too…” She pulled away looking at him seriously, wanting him to have the assurance that she’d never stopped loving him. Ever. “I have loved you since the day we met…and have always thought about our marriage.”

  “I hate to sound crass.” He paused only briefly. “But I need to fuck you…like now.”

  She couldn’t help but laugh; she felt the same way but had been afraid to say it. “Yes!”

  Chapter 22

  Gustaaf locked the door after Emerson and Chelsea left. Walking back into the living room, he found Anna standing, wringing her hands in front of her, wide-eyed and biting her lip nervously. “I want you naked from the waist down. Then we’ll talk.”

  Her hands dropped to her sides and she blinked quickly before her hands went to her skirt. Unzipping it, she let it flutter to the floor. She stepped out of it, picking it up and resting the thin flowery material to the couch.

  She clasped her hands tightly in front of her sex.

  Shaking his head, he stood up from his chair. “You know better. Where do your hands belong?”

  He watched both her trembling hands link behind her head, the position jutting her breasts out and on display behind the thin tank top, her nipples pebbled in the cool air-conditioned room.

  “Turn around. Face your ass toward me.”

  She pivoted in her spot. The muscled and curvy globes of her cute ass framed by the tank top had his cock stirring behind his pants.

  Reaching out, he lightly brushed his forefinger along the divide, goose flesh rising on each cheek. He continued its trek downward, teasing the seam of her labia.

  She gasped, clenching her backside, but keeping her hands in place.

  “Are you nervous? Or sexually excited, bad girl?”

  “Uhm…both, Sir.” Her voice trembled slightly, her chest rising rapidly.

  “You answered honestly. Good girl. Your lips are sticky with your arousal and I can smell your hot little cunt.” He slid his finger back up, pressing between her cheeks and dipping into her little bottomhole.

  She jumped and whispered before resuming her position again. “Oh Jesus.”

  “Stay still.” He resumed sitting in his chair, tugging on her hips, pulling her to stand in front of him. He slapped her right buttocks hard enough that she rose on her tiptoes, hissing.

  “It’s been a long time since you defied me. What did I tell you to do before our guest came to visit? I want to be sure I said it correctly and that you understood.” He leaned back, crossing his arms on his chest, waiting.

  She shifted on her feet, breaking eye contact to stare at the floor instead.

  “Eyes on me at all times.”

  Her eyes darted up and she pulled her lip between her teeth, hesitating on her answer.

  “I…I’m not sure.”

  He narrowed his eyes at her. Was she actually trying to lie? Now? “Maybe I can spank it out of you.” Leaning over the arm of the chair, he pulled out the small oak paddle she hated so much.

  “Oh. Oh, I think I remember.”

  “I bet.” He tossed the paddle onto the nearby end table, wagging his finger at her. “Next time, it’s used. Now, tell me what I said before Chelsea came over.”

  “I was to stay positive and not feed into any negativity. I was to not interfere with their relationship. And I was to let her know…if…when he called or texted.” She still seemed unsure of her answer or adjusting it to her favor, but she smiled at him regardless.

  “Correction, my dear. I had said that you were to answer, making sure he knew she was here and encouraging her to go home. Does that vaguely sound familiar?”

  Her cheeks blushed and she broke eye contact.

  And there it is. She lied.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “It’s interesting.” He leaned forward in his chair, each of his hands taking turns slapping a buttock, the sound echoing off the walls. “I’ve never tolerated outright, blatant defiance, and I despise lying, but it seems my naughty wife has decided both were acceptable tonight while defending her friend.”

  Her swallow was loud in the quiet room, only the ticking of the clock on the mantle could be heard.

  “It’s been a long time since you’ve been punished for lying, hasn’t it, bad girl?”

  “Yes, Sir.” Her black eyes filled with tears.

  He pushed her short, black, straight hair behind her ears. He loved the bob haircut she had; it framed her petite, delicate face. The youthful face and short stature had people mistaking her for a college student, a fact she loved and abhorred many days. Women love feeling young, and she was no different, but when it hindered people taking her seriously, it infuriated her.

  His wife was bright, more intelligent than most women, and was quick in her decision-making and ability to read people, but she spent an inordinate amount of time having to prove her capabilities and she always felt that being petite and looking younger than her age had been a deficiency in the work force.

  She answered to him in everything, but that didn’t mean her strength and skills were diminished in the least. He appreciated her intelligence—hell, it was the main reason he’d been drawn to her. He valued her opinion and expected her to help with all decisions made in their marriage. But she knew that he had the final say, and when he made a decision or gave an order, she was to obey it.