by Jenny Frame
Bridge pointed to the boxes in the corner full of costumes and some props, and said, “That’s them. Let’s get them down to the church van.”
Chapter Ten
The next evening Finn drove her bike down to the vicarage. She had been waiting for this moment all day. After such an emotional yesterday, and some bad nightmares last night, the only thing that seemed to give her solace was being near Bridge.
It was strange to think that she had ridiculed people of faith her whole career, and found faith to be a frightening thing, only to find that the only person who could lead her out of the dark, and the darkness of her thoughts, was a vicar, a woman of the God she had gone between hating and insisting didn’t exist her whole life.
There must be a reason she was destined to come here, and maybe Bridge could help her find the answers. She also wanted to solve the mystery about Bridge and her connection to Red’s private members’ club. When she got home yesterday, she contacted her publicist, Allegra, and asked her to make enquiries about Bridget Claremont and her past. If there was information out there, Ally would find it out.
Finn slowed to a stop outside the vicarage and tooted her horn, as Bridge had told her to, and dismounted to retrieve the second helmet from her backpack. She heard the door open, and turned around quickly.
Finn gasped. Instead of her usual black skirt, Bridge had on a pair of skintight leather trousers and the highest heeled boots she had ever seen. “Oh my fucking God,” Finn said under her breath.
She said nothing as a smiling Bridge approached her but her body was reacting loudly. Her heart thudded wildly, her mouth went dry, and her sex throbbed. Finn felt the instinct to drop to her knees and praise Bridge at her feet, but resisted the urge.
“Good evening, Finn. Do I fit the biker chick bill?”
Finn imagined those leather-clad legs wrapped around her bike and had to stop a groan escaping from her mouth. “Oh yes. You look great, Vicar.” Finn saw her dog collar peeking from under her biker jacket. “I’m glad you left the dog collar on. I’m going to enjoy getting you out of it.”
Bridge shot her an imperious look. “I’m not worried, Magician. I hope you wore your best jockey shorts for me…or are you the lacy thong type?”
“I think it’s quite clear I’ve never worn lace in my life.” God. This woman wound her up so tight, she didn’t know if she was just angry, or turned on, or both. She thought about the last time she’d had sex, with two of her dancers. She had been simply going through the motions, and couldn’t wait till she could get out of there.
But in this moment with Bridge, she was more excited and turned on than she ever had been. She noticed Bridge gazing at her hair. Finn ruffled it, thinking she must have helmet head. “Is there something wrong?”
“No.” Bridge reached out and ran her fingers through her long fringe. “I simply find your hair so very interesting, Magician.”
The only other woman to touch her like that was Carrie, but she didn’t mind. With Bridge she was safe. When Bridge’s manicured fingernails trailed down the shaved left side of her head, she gulped hard and jumped. “We better make tracks.”
Her skin was so sensitive and all she could think of was Bridget’s nails dragging down the back of her head and neck.
“Do you have a helmet for me?”
Finn handed it to her and held her hand out to help Bridge onto the bike. As she watched her mount, Finn knew she would never get that image of Bridge’s leather clad legs wrapping themselves round her bike out of her head.
Bridge smiled. “Hurry up. I want to see those jockey shorts, Finnian Kane.”
Finn got on and revved her engine. “No chance. No woman vicar is ever going to beat me at cards.”
She was entirely confident in her card skills, even though she wouldn’t have control of the deck or the deal, but still she was the best in the business with cards, and she wouldn’t be beaten.
Bridge wrapped her arms around Finn’s waist, and she felt her thighs against her own. Jesus, I’ve fallen in lust with a do-gooding Christian vicar. Just my luck.
* * *
Bridge and Finn sat in the blue drawing room around the card table. The lights were dimmed, the cracks and snaps of the fire burning in the fireplace giving the room a warm atmospheric glow.
Bridge had asked Beverly to leave them a selection of snacks and drinks for the evening, before going home. The snacks were set up on a table beside them, with bottles of lager for Finn and one of Harry’s bottles of red wine for her.
Bridge took a sip of wine from her glass and started to open one of two packs of cards she had brought.
“Wine, Vicar? I thought your drink of choice was a Campari?”
“It is one of my favourites, but I prefer red wine. Unfortunately, The Witch’s Tavern doesn’t have as good a choice in wines as Harry’s wine cellar.”
Finn picked up her bottle of lager and said, “Cheers, then, Vicar. Here’s to getting you out of your dog collar.”
“Good luck trying.”
Finn burst out laughing when Bridget’s attempt at a shuffle ended up with the cards all over the table. “Good start, Bridge. Why don’t you let the expert shuffle them for you?”
Cocky little bugger. “I don’t want your trickster hands anywhere near these cards. This is going to be a fair game.”
“Then less talk, and deal,” Finn said.
She did and carefully studied Finn as she perused her hand. She didn’t need to look at her own hand to know it was poor.
“Two cards please, Bridge.”
She handed them over and took three for herself. It looked like the best her hand was going to be was king high, but no matter.
Finn put her cards down and smiled. “So if I win the hand I get to choose what you take off?”
“You do,” Bridget replied.
“Let’s not waste any time then.” Finn swept her cards out into a fan face up. “Royal flush.”
Bridget turned hers over. “King high.”
Finn rubbed her hands together with satisfaction. “See? I told you I don’t need any tricks to beat you.”
Bridge sat back in her chair with her wine, and crossed her legs nonchalantly. “So it would seem. What do you wish me to take off?”
Finn’s eyes travelled all over her body hungrily. “I think since it’s the first hand, I’ll let you off lightly. Take off your earrings.”
Bridge smiled, unclipped them, and set them in the middle of the card table.
Finn picked them up. “These are some sparklers.”
“They were my grandmother’s. She had a thing for diamonds.”
“You must be the most expensively dressed vicar in the country,” Finn said.
Bridge didn’t like the way that sounded, and wanted to put Finn right. “Finn, I’m not a greedy person. I like nice clothes, and I would say that’s my only indulgence or vice. It’s not my fault I have a trust fund to live on, but I do live frugally, and I distribute my salary as a vicar into three different charities—a children’s programme, a charity for the elderly, and an LGBT youth group. I try to give back.”
Finn held her hands up defensively. “Hey, I didn’t mean anything by it. I never, ever thought you were greedy. You’re a good caring person, I know.”
“Let’s get on with it, shall we?” Bridge said.
“Absolutely. It’s lucky the housekeeper left a roaring fire for you, Vicar. You’re going to be chilly really soon.”
Bridget chuckled. It was going to give her such a thrill to put this uppity boy in her place. “Listen, if you’re so confident about winning, let me add one more stipulation.”
“Name it.”
“Whoever ends up with the most clothes on wins, and if I win, then you come to Witch’s Night and a church service sometime.”
Finn gave her a serious look and took a long swig of lager. “Why do you want me, the most famous atheist in the country, to come to church services?”
“Well, for one, as I told my
friend Harry a long time ago, church is about more than praising God. It’s the hub of the community, the place where you feel like you’re an important part of that community, where we come together in love and friendship. And two, I’d like to show you why faith can be a cause for good, and bring comfort to your soul, not like the crazy version of Christianity you were brought up in.”
Finn was silent, and looked unsure of herself.
“Surely you’re not frightened of losing?” Bridge challenged.
Finn leaned over the table towards Bridge. “Bring it on, Vicar. You have a bet. Get ready to lose that dog collar.”
“Excellent.” Bridge dealt another hand, and this time took more care as she looked over her cards. As she waited on Finn’s request for cards, she said, “You seem to have an unhealthy interest in defrocking a vicar, Finn.”
“I love all women’s bodies, but a beautiful vicar would have an added excitement.”
She thinks I’m beautiful. Bridget felt a thrill to think she could still attract someone like Finn, so young and vibrant. “Surely you’ve done more exciting things. You must have lots of little groupies who follow you around. What’s Finnian Kane’s exciting love life like?”
Finn sighed. “I don’t have a love life. I just have a sex life, and you’re right, there’s an abundance of sex on offer. Three cards, please.”
She dealt Finn her cards and returned her attention to her own. “You don’t sound as if you find that very exciting.”
Finn shrugged. “It’s not. I’ve been bored for a long time. I thought I’d lost my sex drive until—well anyway, they all want Finnian Kane, sexually confident taker, in control of everything and anything around her, the illusion that I made. I’m tired of it.”
You’re perfect. Ten years ago, Bridge would have had so much fun showing Finn how exciting sex could be. Her body throbbed with anticipation at the thought of whipping Finn into shape, but those days were long gone. Now, with Bishop Sprat in charge, all she could do was to comfort her soul.
She took two cards for herself and sorted them into the correct order. “Who is beneath the illusion?”
Finn gave a hollow laugh. “A geeky attention seeker who used magic to try to make friends and fend off bullies at school.”
“You forgot, with such an interesting hairstyle,” Bridge joked.
“Very true. At school, everyone knew who my father was and I was labelled the freaky Bible-bashing kid,” Finn said sadly.
“Your sister saw the real Finn, and you’ve shown me that person.” Bridge popped a couple of olives from the snack plate into her mouth.
“You’re different,” Finn said quickly.
“Why?”
Finn slid her cards into a neat pile and tapped the top of the pile. “I don’t know. You’re Bridge. I feel safe with you, and I like talking to you.”
“Why do you feel safe?”
Finn let out a breath. She looked nervous talking like this. “Because I can’t read you very well, I can’t be ten steps ahead of you, and I don’t know what’s coming next.”
“That’s a good thing.” Bridget smiled seductively. “Anticipation is part of the excitement. Show me your cards, Magician.”
Finn smiled and fanned out her cards. “Read them and weep, Vicar. Two queens and three tens.”
Bridge gave a big exaggerated sigh and said, “What a shame. I’ve only got three kings and two aces.”
“What?” Finn said with horror.
Bridge reached over the table and dragged a fingernail down Finn’s forehead, nose, and lips, before grasping her chin lightly. “Pride comes before a fall. Get ready to fall, boy.”
“That’s not even possible. I can’t be beaten.”
Bridge sat back and considered which article of clothing to take off her first. “I think I’ll start big. Get your T-shirt off. I want to see those arm and ab muscles.”
Finn reluctantly pulled off her T-shirt, leaving her in a sports bra, and giving Bridge a great view.
“Are you ready for round three?” Bridge said.
Finn looked furious. “Deal the cards. You’ve made me angry now, Vicar.”
* * *
Finn smashed her cards down on the card table, while Bridge laughed at her. Since winning the first hand, which had obviously been a set-up, she had lost every single hand, despite some sleight of hand and a few extra cards in her jeans pocket.
This had never happened to her. Finnian Kane never lost at cards. Now here she was in the blue drawing room of Axedale Hall, with only two items of clothes left to take off. Her jeans and sports bra.
“I don’t know how you did this. You must have a loaded deck. I never lose.”
Bridge threw her head back in laughter. “You don’t trust a woman of the cloth?”
She had been played, and by a vicar. “How did you learn to play poker?”
“My grandfather learned to play cards from Houdini. Grandpa taught me all his tips and tricks.”
“Houdini? You’ve got to fucking be kidding me.”
“Watch your language, boy. I told you my family were eccentrics and trailblazers. Claremonts are taught to never take a bet without knowing you can win.”
Finn hung her head in defeat. “Just put me out of my misery, and tell me what you want me to take off.”
Bridge tapped her chin and considered carefully. “I think your jeans. Get them off.”
Finn stood up quickly and started to unbutton her jeans, but Bridge said, “Stop.”
For one minute Finn thought Bridge might be letting her off the hook, but then Bridge simply refilled her wine glass and sat back. “Slowly, I want to enjoy this.”
Bridge winked at her and said, “Take them off.”
Finn felt heat spread all over her body, like Bridge’s gaze was burning her skin. This was different, exciting, even though she’d lost. She slowly took off her jeans and threw them on the chair next to her.
An intoxicating smile spread across Bridge’s face. “Oh my, look at those thighs. No wonder the girls love you. And those tight jockey shorts? Delicious.”
All Finn could think about was how much she wanted Bridge to touch her, and how hard it was to hold back from going over there and begging at Bridge’s feet.
“I thought I wasn’t your type,” Finn said.
Bridge smiled enigmatically and stood. “You say that a lot, Magician.” She started to walk over to her. “Does it bother you? Do you want to be my type?”
Finn’s heat and frustration were turning to anger. “I couldn’t care less, Vicar. I can get any woman I want.”
Bridge laughed and then walked slowly around her, making Finn feel very exposed. How she was remaining still, she would never know. Any other woman, she would be kissing and taking by now.
The sound of Bridge’s heels as she walked around her made her even more excited than she was. Then Bridge stopped behind her, and she felt Bridge’s breath on her ear.
“You might be the professional mentalist, but I can read you so easily, Finn.”
Finn’s breathing shortened. Touch me. “I doubt it.”
“You’ve gotten things far too easy for too long. Women have been too easy for you to get. You crave something different, you want to work for it, and it annoys you that you don’t get that attention from me.”
Finn clenched her hands together tightly to stop her turning around.
“You can have anyone you want, you always win at games of cards, you control every conversation, you lead people where you want them—” Bridge walked around to the front and ran her fingernail down Finn’s arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. “You might have all your magician hocus-pocus on your side, but you can’t use mind tricks on me, and you can’t seduce me because I have God on my side, and I know which I’d rather have.”
Finn couldn’t speak. She was confused, unsure, and Bridge had her where she wanted her. “Bridge—”
Bridge smiled and said, “I beat you, so you’re coming to Witch’s Nigh
t, and coming to church. Consider yourself taken down a peg or two, boy.”
With that Bridge walked off, and said, “Get dressed and take me home.”
Finn grabbed her jeans, and said, “Just one thing.”
She turned around and raised an eyebrow.
“You’re forgetting one thing, Bridge. I know the way you looked at me in the churchyard.” Finn grinned. “You want me.”
Finn felt her confidence returning. Bridge just walked on and shouted back, “In your dreams, boy.”
Chapter Eleven
The lights flashed brightly, and the music thumped in Red’s. Bridge watched from the side as dancers gyrated together on the dance floor, some with collars and chains, but all in PVC or leather of some kind. The atmosphere was heavy with sex and excitement. She watched Harry, two women draped over her and vying for her attention. Bridge smiled and shook her head. Harry didn’t come clubbing with her often, but when she did, Bridge hardly saw her as she acted like a Pied Piper for the single women.
Bridge looked at her watch again. She was late. Really late.
A deep voice beside her said, “Time is going to stand still if you keep staring at that watch of yours.”
It was Harry. “I thought you’d have retired to the playroom by now, with your lovelies.”
“No, I’m here to spend the evening with my friend. There’s plenty of time for that later.”
Without thinking, Bridge checked her watch again.
“Bridge, would you relax? Let me get us another drink.”
“She’s over an hour late.”
Harry sighed and put her hands on Bridge’s shoulders. “Bridge, you need to stop this.”
“Stop what?” Bridge asked defensively.
“Stop waiting and putting your life on hold for someone who is never going to feel that way about you, not unless you grow some other equipment.”
Bridge shrugged out of Harry’s grasp. “You have got no right to say anything. You seduce straight women all the time.”
