Claire pointed to where he stood. “But…I…”
“We talked, Claire. Sometimes a man needs a voice he's never heard before to understand the words.” Mamere patted her cheek. “He's going to need you, little soumis. Go. Talk. We have hours to please to Lady.”
Mamere wiped her hands on her apron and headed back into the house. Claire stood in the crackling firelight, staring at the back of the man she had been starting to give up on.
Slowly, she walked to the dock and then out on the boards to where Maddox stood.
“Dox?”
He glanced over at her. “Claire.” He swallowed, and shoved his hands in his pockets.
He looked just as sexy as he ever had. Hair slightly unkempt, and a short beard, he also now looked sad.
“You shut down, didn't you. There was nothing wrong.”
“There's everything wrong, Claire. I'm lost. I don't know anything anymore. I don't even have a place to live anymore.”
She looked at the water.” I'm glad to see you out of that chair.”
He laughed, lightly. “That’s the nice way of you saying you have no idea what to say.”
Claire twisted her lips in a frown. “It's my way of saying I want to beat the living shit out of you and I don't even know why.”
“Fair enough. I wouldn't blame you.”
“Why did you shut down?”
He sighed. “I'm a coward.” He turned to her. “Deep down, I'm afraid. Of making decisions, of making the wrong decision. I went against every tenant of faith when I started messing around in the lifestyle. And I don't know how to make the decision to stay or go. From the faith or the lifestyle.”
“Bishop Gaines made that decision for you.”
“Not really. They defrocked me. They didn't change who I am.”
Claire stared at the handsome man on the dock with her. “I want to slap you so hard right now. I want to knock you into the bayou and let the gators have you.”
“I'm being honest with you, Claire.”
“Are you?” She shook her head. “Or are you just making excuses for yourself?”
“What?”
“You're making excuses. You're talking about the lifestyle like a holy man. Like you're going to hell for being a part of it.”
“Aren't I?”
“Oh, fuck you. Just, fuck you, Maddox.” Claire turned on her heel and headed back down the boards to the path to the house.
His hand slipped around her wrist and stopped her. “Claire.”
She whipped around. “I'm not going to hell because I like sex! I'm not doing anything wrong because I like whips and chains. And if you choose to believe that you're going to hell because the church says anyone who enjoys sex is sinning, then fine. Go to hell.”
She tried to rip her hand from his grip, but he held her fast to where she was. “I'm lost, Claire. I need help.”
“Find someone else. I won't be with someone who doesn't understand their base desires!”
“Claire.”
It was his Dom tone. She instantly stopped, then whirled on him, furious. “No! Don't pull that shit on me! I am not--”
He reeled her into him, wrapping his arms around her. “I'm lost, Claire. Hush. Let me finish. I don't know who I am, I have no purpose. The only thing that stopped me from making an irreversible decision was you.” He leaned back and his gaze flitted across her features. “My beautiful Claire. You ministered to me in ways no one else ever has. Your pure soul lit the rooms of darkness I dwelt in for these long months. It was only your hope this afternoon with the Bishop that kept me from killing myself. It has only been the love that you and your grandmother share that has given me any joy. I am lost, Claire. I don't know where I belong, except with you.”
Claire blinked a few times and stopped struggling against him. “I am tired of fighting for you.”
“Fight with me.”
Her breath was suddenly hard to catch, with this insanely handsome man so close to her. She leaned up, and kissed him. It was not chaste, it was demanding, her tongue finding his and drawing him out. She opened, and he welcomed her, his masculine taste so familiar.
She pulled back. “I cannot be with someone who believes that enjoying sex means we're going to hell. We harm none by finding our joys together.”
He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I have two choices, Claire. I can run, pretend I was never the person in front of you and find a new place to help God's children. Or I can stay and find a new way to live my life that isn't a lie.”
“Which one would the coward take?”
He laughed lightly. “Oh, the run. To never have to face who I really am.”
“Then stay. Let's find our who you are.”
“I have a request then, ma oisillion.”
“Oh, I've missed that…” Claire smiled.
He leaned down and kissed her this time. “I want you to teach me to sin.”
Claire thought she would catch fire with the heat of the kiss he gave her. She felt her whole body melting into him and felt his desire pressing against her stomach. It was…a wonderful relief and she nearly came just kissing him.
“Get a room!” Mamere stood in the door way of the house.
Dox laughed and stepped back a little. Claire clung to him. “Shit, I forgot she was there.”
Mamere walked out of the house to the fire. “Seriously. Get a room. There's a perfectly good one in the house. We have all night to finish our offerings and spells.”
Maddox looked horrified, and Claire giggled. He stuttered, but Claire turned him to look at her. “You are hilarious. It's going to take you a while to get used to being openly sexual. Mamere has no qualms like that. We're staying out to help with the alter and offerings, but I'm moving you into my bed. Tonight.”
Maddox quirked a smile. “Who's the Dom?”
Mamere cleared her throat. “The soumis is always the real maître.”
Maddox groaned. “Mon dieu, we need our own place quick.”
Chapter Ten
“What do you think?”
Claire grinned at him from the center of the room.
Maddox cleared his throat. “Cher… I don't even know what kind of job I can get. This place is beautiful, but you're a college student, and I'm a defrocked minister. We don’t have a lot of income.”
“I'm getting a job at The Club. Mak said they are going to need another bartender on the main floor since they had to fire two of them. And I'm more than happy to pay the rent.”
“That's not right. You paying alone.”
“We need our own space, Dox. We can't keep sneaking out of Mamere's to have sex in the shed or the garage. I mean, I think behind the chicken coop was my breaking point.”
“Desperation.” Maddox shrugged. “I just really needed you and your damn cousins were in the barn.”
“Do you like the house?”
“It beautiful, Claire. But it's a restored Victorian, and I doubt that tips are going to pay the rent.” Claire blushed, and Maddox's eyebrow rose instantly. “What have you done now?”
“Well… I kind of worked out a deal. It's one of the Mak Family properties. I had a long talk with him, and he agreed to rent it to us for five hundred a month. Until we get on our feet. And then he said he'd consider selling it to us.”
Claire grinned sheepishly. Maddox shook his head, and she knew she'd won. She squealed, happy, and threw her arms around him. “Thank you.” She really wanted to take him upstairs to the master bedroom and have her way with him on the carpet, but she caught a glance of the time on her watch. “Oh, shit. We have to meet your parents in ten minutes.”
He smirked, and turned his head to catch her in a deep kiss. “I know what you're thinking, but it's not ours to fuck in yet.”
“Mak said we can we move in on Saturday.”
“Then the rug will still be there.”
With a harumph, Claire backed out of his arms. “Come on. Time to face the music.” She cocked her head. “And for the lo
ve of God, don't tease me. I will not make it through dinner.”
“I'm sorry, soumis, are you topping from the bottom?”
“Please, Sir, I'm serious. These are your parents. I don't want to fuck you in the bathroom while they're waiting for coffee.”
Maddox cringed. “Yeah, I actually think I'd have some ED problems knowing they were out there.”
“You? Erectile dysfunction?” Claire couldn't stop the laugh as she headed for the front door.
“That's the paddle, Claire.”
“I'm not sorry. I can't even imagine you having trouble getting it up. You have trouble keeping it down.”
There was a disagreeable grunt from Maddox, and Claire slid him the side-eye. “I'm so right, you're hard right now.”
“Yes well.” He cleared his throat. “The carpet was inviting.”
The restaurant was only a few minutes from the house, and Claire was enjoying the ribbing and banter than she and Maddox had developed in the past month. He still brooded and refused to speak once in a while, but she understood he was still processing a lot. There were also times when he simply couldn't wait to fuck her, and that was how they had wound up behind the chicken coop.
While he was trying not to let her know, Claire could tell he was nervous as hell about talking to his parents. He had never told them how bad the attack actually was, and she knew the truth was going to come out today.
All of the truth.
Mrs. Ingrid Devereaux fluttered up to her son as soon as she saw him outside the restaurant. There was no other way to describe how she moved. She embraced him and gave him a motherly kiss on the cheek. Mr. Maurice Devereaux embraced his son with a manly backslap, and a hardy hand shake.
“You look good, son.”
“Thanks, dad.” Claire couldn't gauge his tone. He was dead neutral.
“I thought you'd be bandaged up and quite the mess from what they told me when we got back.” Ingrid inspected his hairline and and shoulder.
Claire held out her phone with the picture of Maddox the day she got to the hospital. Ingrid looked confused but gasped when she saw what was on the screen. “By the saints! This is you, Maddox?” She was clearly horrified.
“Yes.” He took Claire's phone out of his mother's hand. “M'ma, dad, this is Claire Roberts. My fiancée.”
Claire desperately held back her reaction. When the hell had, he elevated her to that station? She managed a smile and shook each proffered hand, and a motherly kiss from Ingrid.
“You are adorable! I had no idea you were dating, Maddox!”
“It's… more complicated than that, m'ma. Let's get to the table, and we can talk.”
Maurice put a hand on Claire's arm and held her back a moment and spoke in low tones to keep Ingrid and Maddox from hearing him. “Are you the reason I received a personal letter from the bishop informing me of his defrocking?”
Claire stared at him, shocked. “No. That's a rude assumption. It's a complicated story that Maddox will tell. Your wife doesn't know he's been removed?”
“No, and that's none of your business, little girl.”
She wanted to slug this man but held back. Instead, she turned sharply on her heel and marched after her now-fiancé.
Twittering away at her son, Ingrid had no idea that her husband had just pissed off Claire in a way she hadn't been pissed off in a very long time. His mother preened him, and clucked and chittered her way all the way to the table. But Claire gave up being nice when Ingrid tried to sit next to him, leaving her across from Maddox. She muscled her way into the chair and heard his father grumble under his breath.
Maddox already looked exhausted and grabbed her hand.
“So, son,” Maurice began. “What did you do to get beaten unconscious?”
Gripping her hand tightly, Maddox held her back from launching across the table and choking the life out of his father. “Several of the parishioners from another church didn't like something I did and felt I should learn a lesson.”
“Likely you needed it.”
“Maurice!” Ingrid snapped at him. “No one deserves to beaten. You know better.”
It was clear he wanted to say something else but bit his tongue and instead told the waitress what he wanted to drink.
“Claire, dear, may I see that picture again.”
“Ingrid--”
“Maurice. I want to see how badly my son was hurt.” She stared daggers at him, and calmly took the phone from Claire. “Is it safe to swipe through?”
Claire nodded. She had taken all of her and Maddox's pictures off the other night. Not that she was crazy enough to use the phone for the really naughty stuff. They had a camera for that--and she cut off that thought right there. She was going to make herself too horny—the pictures were--
*No. Stop. Ugh.*
Ingrid studied the photo and flipped through the few more that were on the phone. They were details of the wounds and beating that he had endured. Claire documented everything in case the pictures that had been officially taken for the trial disappeared. She wasn't going to take a chance. And unfortunately, they were brutal to look at it.
Ingrid shook her head and looked up at Maddox as if she was comparing them.
“Maddox, these aren't simple wounds. They are vicious, cruel and intentional. These are injuries that we should have been called back for.”
Maddox sighed. “M'ma. There was little chance that you were going to make the 2 day trip to Valparaiso and travel eight hours by plane just to tend to your defrocked disappointment of a middle child.”
Claire had never seen it happen before. Ingrid almost literal puffed up like an angry cat, and she could imagine the hiss the woman would issue. “*Defrocked*?”
Turning to his father, eyes wide, he gasped. “You didn't tell her?”
“I had planned to talk to the bishop and see if we could get you a new congregation in a different state.”
“You didn't tell mom because you were going to hide it.”
“What on earth happened to get you defrocked?” Ingrid leaned forward.
“We'll talk to the bishop and get you reinstated in a different congregation. May be up in Kansas. It couldn't have been anything too terrible. You were beaten hard and the victim of--”
Maddox held up his hand. “Stop. Dad. I'm not going to back into the pulpit.”
“You were beaten up and wrongly defrocked. Why wouldn't you go--”
“Because you don't want to hear my side of this. You have no idea why I was beaten up. You don't know what I've been through.”
“You'll throw away your divinity degree?” Ingrid looked crestfallen.
“I am not meant to spread God's word from the pulpit, m'ma. I'm just not. I'm a giant fraud. A liar, telling people not lie.” Maddox slumped a bit in his chair, and Claire wanted to wrap her arms around him. “I went to Divinity school to get your attention. And it's not that I don't believe in God or His word. But I honestly went under the pretense that it would make you notice me. Make you see me in the sea of the kids in the house. I did well, I do well. But this isn't me. I can't keep pretending that I've found my calling.”
Ingrid put her hand over her sons. “I've always seen you, Maddox. Always. You are a bright light in my heart.”
“I'm the middle child.”
“Are you going to whine about--”
“Maurice!” Ingrid snapped at her husband. “This is a matter of the home and hearth, and you will shut your trap until my son and I are done speaking!”
Claire liked this woman.
“Maddox. What happened? This is far more than just being beaten for being a tolerant and welcoming pastor in a world that doesn't always believe in that.”
Maddox swallowed.
* * *
Divinity school. At Princeton. It was a dream he didn't know he held until he got his acceptance, and a grant to cover nearly all his expenses. And arriving at college, its ivy-covered walls, manicured lawns and an oddly harmonious blend of 18th Century arc
hitecture and modern buildings, he was thrilled to be there.
His classes were easy; it almost felt like cheating because he had been indoctrinated to the world view since his mother knew she was pregnant with him. He was drawn to religious studies--in all religions--and psychology. After his pesky general ed requirements had been filled, he dove headlong into both.
It was his chance meeting with a woman named Fire who was visiting with her professor in his gestalt theory class that pulled him in two.
She fit her name. She burned as bright as any sun, and her pulled was undeniable. He was her moth. The relationship took off at a run and reached a fool's pace soon after. They were never apart, and it was only the divinity school policy that kept him from moving in.
Then, came The Weekend.
He'd always called it that in his head. The Weekend.
The entire trip into New York, Fire had been repeating that this was going to be the end of their relationship. He would see where they were, who she really was, and be gone. She was on the verge of tears, curled on his front passenger seat. Maddox told her that this wasn't something she had to do, but she was insistent.
And when they walked into that dungeon, masked, with Fire nearly sobbing audibly, she was *almost* right.
He almost left her there.
He almost walked right back out.
He almost ended the relationship.
He almost cursed her.
Almost.
…almost.
But he didn’t. The part of his brain that was fascinated by human behavior, likes and dislikes, loves and loathings, quirks--and kinks would not let him leave. It would not let him turn his back on this burning flame of a soul who had brought him there. The woman who had bared her deep secret to him.
Fire, his bright, beautiful Fire, was a submissive. He learned that she liked being flogged and paddled. She found sexual excitement in public sex. Humiliation turned her nearly insatiable. She had a particular fondness for hot wax. And combining any of those was a recipe for an explosion.
Fire begged, she screamed, and she came.
Over and over.
There was no end to her appetites.
Or his.
By the end of that weekend, Maddox had learned enough about sex play to last some people a lifetime. Not him. He wanted to know more.
The Fire Saga (The Club) Page 23
