Cardinal's Rule

Chapter Six

Tilly laid in bed and stared at the ceiling. She realized sleep would be a long time coming as she replayed her conversation with Landry.

What the fuck.

What.

The.

Fuck?

Why the hell was she agreeing to this? And why the fuck had she come up with that crazy idea of hers?

She didn’t really want to fuck Landry! Well, okay, great eye candy, sure, but in all her revenge fantasies over what she’d do if Cris returned to her life, that wasn’t one of them.

Although something about the idea gave her a deep sense of satisfaction.

She tried rolling onto her side. A little after three, she finally fell asleep and dreamed about Cris, about their life together. All good times, even during her blackest emotional storms he stood solid and patient beside her, loving her. When she awoke a little after seven the next morning her resolve had faltered. She stared at the ring on her left hand. Cris had wanted to give her a ring and she’d refused for the longest time, terrified over the thought of being married to someone after what she’d seen her mother go through.

After what she’d gone through.

What if she’d let Cris marry her when he’d wanted to? Would he still have left and gone back to Landry?

Nothing good could come from that line of thinking, so she ended it.

It’s just another job, she tried to think. I wanted to be a nurse, wanted to help people. I get to do that.

There was that. No more making men dress up in diapers or trying not to kick them in the teeth, literally, while they licked her boots, or whatever their kink was.

After a couple of years she found it a lot easier to slip into the role of “Mistress Cardinal” as she felt nothing but contempt for most of her clients. Otherwise, if it wasn’t for the paycheck, she’d never do it. It left her emotionally empty inside, a bottomless void only one thing had ever filled.

Her service and love for Cris.

She only enjoyed taking care of Bob and one other guy, but that guy was married and his wife knew about his kink. A pain slut on the high end of the scale who wanted to be used hard. She’d had coffee with the guy’s wife at the very beginning, Tilly pleasantly shocked to find out as long as no sex was involved and everything was kept transparent with her, the wife had no problem with it. Maybe the fact that she was a psychologist helped. She’d wanted to watch one session. Once satisfied it didn’t cross any of their marital boundaries, she let him have one session a month with Tilly. Usually two or three hours that left him barely able to walk later, but happy. Lately, she’d been asking Tilly questions about what they did and asking for advice on things she could do for him at home.

Tilly was more than happy to show her proper techniques to cause pain without injury. She couldn’t scene as heavily with him as he craved with Tilly, but it helped bond them closer as a couple.

A job well done.

Then…

She sighed. Then there was Bob.

She did not want to give up Bob.

Not just as a client either. It annoyed the snot out of her when she felt a twinge of guilt over that, picturing Cris’ face.

She also thought about the road ahead for Landry. Taking care of Landry, at first, would most likely be a full-time job in and of itself. Anyway, she didn’t have to worry about that for several days.

Bob wasn’t supposed to come back until next Thursday. She still had time to make up her mind there.

Two cups of coffee, an hour on the elliptical, and a shower later, Tilly dressed and was waiting when Landry pulled into the driveway.

Even though she’d told him not to bring Cris, relief to see Landry alone mixed with longing and a pang.

Goddammit.

She couldn’t possibly miss the asshole, could she? Was she that sick and twisted to seriously want to see him after what he did to her?

She didn’t go out to Landry. She made him walk to her front door and ring her bell. She’d opted for slacks, a blouse, and a blazer. Conservative heels, her hair smoothed back, not gelled into her usual wild, spiked mess.

“You look very nice. I feel underdressed.” He wore jeans and a long-sleeved button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up.

“That’s not my problem, Landry.” She picked up her purse and pulled the front door shut behind her, locking it.

He kept his tone light. “I didn’t say it was.” He opened and held the car door for her. When he spotted her arched eyebrow, he smiled. “Holding doors isn’t just a slave thing, Tilly. It’s a gentlemanly thing.” His face darkened. “Or did slave never hold doors for you? I taught him better than that, I thought.”

“No, he held them. I just didn’t picture you being a man used to doing it.”

“There are a lot of things about me you don’t know. Was that an assumption on your part? I thought we agreed to banish those from our marriage.”

She loved the sound of his voice, the hint of his accent. “Touché. Very true.” She took a deep breath and let it out as he took his place behind the wheel. “I’m sorry I’m bitchy this morning.”

“It’s all right. This is rather stressful. I’m aware of that. You are not alone in your feelings there.”

The question popped out of her mouth before she could beat it back. “So is he kneeling naked on the floor today?”

Landry slipped on sunglasses while he drove. “No. I let him get dressed and walk down to the park near the hotel. I told him I want him to sit there and think about his life and the things he’s done to the people who’ve loved him.”

“What did you tell him about today? About me?”

“Absolutely nothing.” He turned to her when he had to stop for a light. “It’s none of his business. He’s my slave. He gets no say in this. I terminated his rights as my partner when I found out what he did to you. I want him to truly comprehend what he’s done to us.”

She snorted. “He didn’t do anything to you, when you think about it.”

He returned his attention to the highway when the light turned green. “You spent the last five years wondering why you weren’t good enough. I’ve spent the last weeks looking back on the past five years and wondering how much of what we had was really a lie. I went from feeling loved to feeling like a pity fuck. I think you and I each have a lot of issues to work out for ourselves. You have your life ahead of you, regardless. You’ve moved on. I’m left to wonder if I’m even going to survive, much less if I want to. If it’s worth fighting this time. Or if the man I thought I’d spend the rest of my life with would rather be with you.”

She stared at him, speechless. Yeah, that would suck.

The attorney was waiting for them. Tilly assumed getting the pre-nup negotiated would be a very complex process. Landry overruled the attorney on most matters, meaning it when he said he wanted it very cut and dry. Tilly kept all her pre-marital assets, no matter what, and anything she earned during their marriage. If he died, it all went to her.

Just as they’d discussed.

While they sat in the attorney’s office and waited for the secretary to finish creating the documents, Tilly stared at Landry. “How much are you worth, anyway?”

“Roughly?”

She nodded.

He shrugged. “With the business and properties, over fifty million.”

She knew her eyes widened at that, because he laughed. “Not so much of a pay cut now, is it?”

“I’m not hoping you die. You realize that, right? I’m not going to try to kill you to get it, either.”

He smiled. “I know. You’re a kind soul. You would have made an excellent nurse had you kept up with that.”

“How can you say that when you don’t even know me?”

He leaned forward, his gaze on her. “Because you have kind eyes. Nothing that’s been done to you has managed to kill the sweet and giving spirit within you, the soul who wants nothing more than to lovingly serve. Buried behind an extremely thick and well-defended wall, yes, but it’s still there.” He took her hand in his and kissed it. “I don’t deny we’ve both been through a lot of crap to get to this point. Honestly? I’m very glad you’ll be beside me through this.”

Well didn’t that just fill her with warm fuzzies. She had no idea how to reply, so she kept her mouth shut.

Landry must have researched where to eat because he drove her out to St. Armands Circle, to a nice restaurant with an outside patio, without asking her for directions. Fortunately there weren’t a lot of smokers and they could enjoy the beautiful day.

“I’ve decided I have another rule,” she said after the waiter took their drink orders.

He looked amused. “And that would be?”

She leaned in, dropping her voice. “What you said in the car on the way to the attorney’s office, about not knowing if you even want to fight. If I’m doing this for you, you will fight. Do I make myself clear? I’m not signing on for you to just give up and roll over and cave in. Understood?”

He studied her for a long time. “You don’t know me,” he quietly said. “Why is this so important to you?”

“I’m uprooting my life. I wouldn’t do it if I didn’t think you were worth it.”

He clasped his hands together on the table. “Why is it so important to you now?”

She loved his eyes. Fuck, why’d he have to be cute? “Because he left me for you, to stay with you, to help you recover. You obviously meant a lot to him for him to do that. If you give up and die, then I lost those years and went through hell for nothing. If he gave you back your will to live and kept you going, no matter how wrong it was or how much it hurt me, I can’t totally fault him for that. Even if he acted like a moron,” she added.

When he grinned, the corners of his eyes crinkled playfully. “Okay. I can understand why you think that. It’s flattering.”

“Oh, geez. Ego alert.”

He laughed and sat back in his chair to take a drink of water. “You’re a ball-buster, Tilly.”

“The Domme gig wasn’t a clue?”

He leaned in again, still grinning. He dropped his voice. “About your other…condition. For our wedding night. Can I make a condition of my own?”

She nodded.

“You said you wanted vanilla. I’m fine with that, as long as you don’t try any CBT on me.”

She had to cover her mouth with her napkin to keep from spraying her own water all over the table as she laughed. When she finally managed to recover, she smiled. “I promise I will only verbally bust your balls.”

He held his water glass up in a toast, and they clinked them together. He waited until she took another sip to add, “But feel free to literally bust slave’s balls as much and as hard as you’d like.”

Both of them laughing, he helped her mop up the puddle of water she sprayed over her side of the table.

She helped him find a parking space at the county courthouse. Her breath caught when they walked in.

I’m really going through with this crazy plan.

As they stood in line, she glanced at her left hand. The ring had to be expensive. Landry gently took her right hand and laced his fingers through hers. She looked up at him. Shorter than Cris by a couple of inches, but still taller than her. “Second thoughts?” he asked.

“Too late for that by about five dozen.”

“I see you’re not running away.”

She sighed. “No, I’m going to do this. It’ll be a nice change of pace. Besides, nursing and being a Domme are pretty similar.”

When he smiled, his eyes crinkled again. She loved that she could lift his spirits. He normally wore a sad expression and looked like he felt as heartsick as she once had.

The line moved forward. Four couples waited in front of them. “I just thought of another rule,” she said.

“Do I need to take notes?”

“Asshole. No.” She tugged his hand. He leaned in close and she lowered her voice. “No matter what happens or how bad it gets, you can’t kill yourself. Seriously. Okay? Promise me.”

His expression turned solemn. He stroked her cheek and she hated that part of her felt so starved for the contact that she desperately wanted to lean into his touch. How long since someone had touched her like that?

Well, besides Bob.

“I promise. If you’re willing to fight by my side, I’ll give it everything I’ve got.”

She nodded. Then, without considering it, she rose up on her toes and brushed a quick kiss across his lips. “Okay.” She poked him in the ribs. “I’ll hold you to it.”

He wasn’t prepared for the wave of emotion that nearly swamped him. He almost wanted to turn around and call it off. She would go through with it, totally. Wanted to stand beside him, right or wrong. Not out of love, not even out of like because they barely knew each other. Not even totally for the money, he suspected.

Because she felt it was the right thing to do.

He didn’t deserve it.

When she kissed him, it nearly took his breath away despite not seriously lusting after a woman in…well, a long time.

The raw honesty in that simple kiss.

She squeezed his hand and nudged him forward as another couple finished at the clerk’s window. They were next.

He didn’t deserve her.

How the fuck had Cris walked away from her?

In their time together the night before, Landry realized how much they had in common. He could see why Cris loved her.

He’d never admit to feeling a little nervous about performing as required on their wedding night. The thought of having Cris there strung up and helpless, ironically, would be a helpful boost for him.

It’s good to be a sadist.

Their turn. He produced his information, she produced hers, and they filled out the forms.

Fifteen minutes later they were one step closer to being married.

It felt natural to hold her hand on the walk to the car.

“How do we get to the beach from here?” he asked.

“Why?”

“I’d like to see it. Am I not allowed to go for a walk along the beach with my fiancée?”

He liked that he could make her smile. “Okay. Turn here.”

They drove across the John Ringling Causeway, through St. Armands Circle again, and twenty minutes later, they were on Lido Key at a public park. She left her jacket in the car, kicked off her shoes and locked her purse in his trunk. He removed his shoes too, and together they walked across the white sugar sand to the Gulf of Mexico.

Beautiful. Even prettier than California, and he’d thought those to be some of the most beautiful beaches in the world.

She let him hold her hand and they walked for nearly an hour in one direction as they talked. At one point they stopped to rest, sitting in dry sand away from the water so they didn’t get wet.

“Do you still love him?” she quietly asked.

“Absolutely. Part of me wishes I didn’t. It’d make life a lot easier for me in some ways. I could be a cold-hearted bastard and kick him out.” He slipped his arm around her shoulders. It felt natural, comfortable to cuddle her close. He’d been lacking in affection since the revelation, missed that contact with Cris. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, noting the sweet scent of her shampoo. “Do you still love him? Honestly?”

She let her head rest against his shoulder, relaxing into him. “Yeah,” she admitted. “I wish I didn’t. What kind of pitiful freak does that make me? That after what he did, I do still love him.”

“It doesn’t make us pitiful. It makes us human.” He nuzzled his chin against the top of her head.

“Thank you, Tilly. I know I said it before, but I mean it. I guess I should have warned you I’m a really crappy patient.”

“Don’t thank me yet. I’m a pretty bossy bitch.” She looked up at him with a smile on her face.

He wanted to kiss her again, so he did.

She didn’t want to stop kissing him. He was a damn good kisser.

Why the fuck’s he got to be gay? Just my luck.

Why’s he got to be Cris’ Master?

She didn’t want him to leave. Despite the weird, whacked-out situation, she wanted to spend more time with him.

The thought of spending her evening alone after such a nice day with Landry made her heart throb in a bad way. Back in the car, she turned in her seat to watch him while he drove. “What do you have planned for tonight?”

He shrugged. “Back to the room, eat dinner, torture slave. The usual.”

Tilly smiled. “We going to keep him in the dark until it happens?”

He nodded. “I want to. He knows something’s going on but he doesn’t dare ask. Not when he knows how upset I am.”

She took a leap of faith. “Why don’t you spend the night with me?”

“I thought you wanted to do that on our wedding night.”

“I meant to talk.” She picked at her fingernails. “I mean, unless you don’t want to.”

He reached over and patted her thigh. “I’d love it. We need to make a quick stop first.”

They pulled into the hotel parking lot a little after four. She nervously looked around for any sign of Cris but didn’t see him. Landry parked several doors down from their room. “I’ll be right back.

I need to leave him money for dinner. He didn’t have lunch and not much for breakfast.”

She stifled another sympathetic pang for Cris as Landry climbed out, walked down to his room and disappeared inside. Yes, she’d been Cris’ slave, but he never controlled her like that. She’d never felt restricted, could spend money as she needed without asking first.

A few moments later Landry returned, smiling and carrying both a rolling carry-on bag and a laptop case. He put them in the back seat before climbing behind the wheel.

“Was he there?”

“Oh, absolutely. If he wasn’t he knew he’d better not come back at all.”

“What’s so funny?”

“The look on his face when I handed him the twenty and told him he’d better answer the room phone whenever I called. He’s dying of curiosity and knows damn well he can’t ask what’s going on.”

He waited until they reached U.S. 41 and headed south before he pulled out his phone and dialed. “Good. I was just checking. Eat between six and seven.” He hung up and dropped the phone into the center console before looking at her. “He despises mindfucks almost as much as he hates humiliation.” An evil grin curled his lips. “That’s why they’re so damn fun.”

“How often will you call tonight?”

“Every so often.”

“Did you tell him where you’re going?”

“Nope. None of his business.” He caught her hand and laced his fingers through hers. When he gently squeezed, her heart raced. “If I want to spend the night with my fiancée, I will.”

She offered to cook him dinner. “If you’re going to live with me you might want to sample the wares first.”

He laughed as he pulled into her driveway. “I could take that more than one way.”

Her pulsed throbbed a counterpoint to her clit. “Maybe I meant it more than one way.”

He leaned in and stroked her cheek. “How about we spend the night getting to know each other with our clothes on? So when we do have our wild night, we can both be more relaxed about it.”

“Why wouldn’t you be relaxed?”

He shrugged. “Lot of pressure. I want you to enjoy yourself.”

She felt a stab of conscience. “If you don’t want to do that, we don’t have to. I know I said it was a condition, but I don’t want to force you.”

He shook his head. “Oh, no you don’t. You don’t get to back out on me like that,” he teased. He leaned in and kissed her. Sensual and tender, his lips and tongue gently exploring hers, not trying to take over or maul her. “I don’t know about you, but even if it wasn’t for the cuckolding and humiliation aspects, I’d still be looking forward to it.”

“Really?”

“I’m gay, not dead. I got over the ‘girls have cooties’ stage of my life before I hit puberty.

You’re beautiful. It’s a great bonus that you’ll be my wife.”

“Let’s see if you still feel that way after I cook you dinner.”

He offered to help with preparations. She started him making them a salad. Being with him felt different than it felt with Bob. Before they sat down to eat, she pegged it.

It felt a lot like it had with Cris. Landry was very similar, including his physical mannerisms.

They moved around in the kitchen together, weaving between the cabinets without bumping into each other, as if already synchronized.

In a way that terrified her. How easy it could be to live with him. To lose her heart to him. “Did you say you were Cris’ first serious relationship?”

He leaned back against the counter. “How much are you comfortable knowing?”

“I want to know everything.”

“Did he ever tell you about his family?”

“No. Only that his father died. He didn’t talk about them. Especially once he found out about my family…issues.”

“He probably didn’t wish to burden you. Why don’t we talk about this while we eat?”

They settled on the sofa, in front of the TV. She liked the familiar feel, less formal than staring at each other over a table.

Once they were comfortable, he told the story while they ate. “His father kicked Cris out when he was only sixteen, after he caught Cris watching gay porn on the internet. Very conservative Spanish Catholic family. Cris’ father was the second youngest of eight children, and the first of the siblings born in the States after their parents moved to California from Barcelona.

“Cris’ mom wouldn’t stand up to his father about it. Cris went to live with one of his uncles on his father’s side, who believed beating him straight was the answer.” He chewed his food, then paused, looking thoughtful. “The irony, of course, is that Cris isn’t gay, he’s bi. But a teenage boy at that stage of life, with a less than supportive family, I don’t need to tell you how destructive that can be. Not just that they were strict Catholics, but the whole male machismo dynamic.

“I also don’t have to tell you how smart Cris is. Despite what he went through, he still managed an academic scholarship to college. That’s where I met him, at a dinner party thrown by one of my friends, Cris’ professor. He hadn’t had time for any kind of dating because between classes and working three part-time jobs to pay his bills, he had a full schedule. I offered to take him in, in exchange for working for me, although I hinted I would enjoy a chance to get to know him better.

Within a week he was also in my bed.

“I suppose in hindsight I acted in a predatory manner, taking advantage of his desperation like that. I truly did like, then come to love him. He was more than willing to explore boundaries and take a submissive role to me. I was older, I had money and provided security. I gave him understanding and affection. I accepted him. For the first time in his life he didn’t have to hide who or what he was.”

She let the silence lay between them while he contemplated his next words. “We’d been together a couple of years when his father had a massive heart attack. His mother contacted him, and we hurried to the hospital. Mind you, he had no contact with his father since he left home. I had never met them, although his mother knew he lived with me even though she didn’t approve of our relationship.

“The man grew enraged to see Cris there, and that was with me standing outside the room where he couldn’t see me. He screamed at him that he didn’t have a son, especially a ‘fag’ son, and threw him out of the room. He died later that night.”

“What about his mother?”

“She blamed Cris for his death. Convinced herself that if he hadn’t shown up at the hospital, his father wouldn’t have died.”

“But she called him!”

“Exactly. Rather convenient for her to forget that fact. I think Cris wanted to blame himself too, for a while. The only blame was on his father, a two-pack-a-day smoker and heavy drinker with a fondness for junk food.” He sighed. “Then a few years later I had to go and ruin it all by thinking he wasn’t enough for me. I didn’t put it together in my egotistical brain that no matter how much I reassured Cris I wanted to be poly because of me, not because of any shortcomings on his part, he saw that as one more rejection in his life. It wasn’t until he left me that I realized how stupidly I’d acted.”

“How did that happen? Your ‘come to Jesus’ moment?”

He sat back. “One of our friends came to me and told me I acted like a selfish asshole for doing that to Cris. Asked me if I was supposed to be his Master, why the hell didn’t I see how badly that hurt him? That was never my intention, obviously. I just thought it was my right, as Master, to seek what I wanted. I thought Cris was being a poor slave by being jealous. I lost sight of the fact that I failed as his Master by forcing that decision on him. When we first got together, we’d agreed to be monogamous and not seek others outside our relationship. I had promised him he was the only one I wanted. When I tried to locate him and tell him I’d reconsidered, he’d already left the area. The friends he remained in contact with, he’d asked them not to give me his information or pass any messages from me to him.

Said he’d cut them out of his life if they tried it.”

“So why did you try to kill yourself?”

He shrugged. “I became angry at myself, then wrongly focused it on Cris. I convinced myself I could find someone as good as or better than him. That it was his loss, not mine. I had a string of meaningless relationships. None of them lived up to him. I had failed to see how selflessly Cris served me in any way I asked of him. All he wanted was to be the only one in my life. That was all he ever asked of me, to not share me. He would have, literally, done anything else I asked of him, no matter how mundane or how kinky. If I had sent him out to serve another Master or be the center of a gang bang, he would have done it. Wouldn’t have liked it, but he would have done it.”

She felt a little ill. “You didn’t do that, did you?”

“No. Used it as a threat a few times in scenes to mindfuck him, but never did it. My point is, he could go to work, be there ten or twelve hours, then come home and clean house or whatever until two or three in the morning and get up and do it all over again for me. He helped me build my business. He never complained. He never questioned me on anything, until I threw it all away. I took him for granted, how his love for me permeated everything he did, no matter what the service. I never had to lift a finger at home. After I lost him, I could find someone who wanted to play slave for a week or two, but eventually they would whine and complain that they wanted free time, or that they were bored, or that they wanted to do something else.

“Cris never did that. Ever.”

She tried to process that. She couldn’t reconcile Landry’s Cris with her strong Master. “Why do you think he became a Dom?”

He shrugged. “Why did you?”

“Honestly? I did it for the money.”

“Not just. For the control. The independence. The ‘fuck you’ to the world, no?”

She thought about it. “Maybe. Mostly it was twice the money for a fraction of the work.”

“How was he as a Master?”

“I wondered why he never had a problem chipping in with the chores.”

Landry laughed. “The man can fold and iron clothes like no one’s business.”

She snorted, amused. “Amen.” They clinked glasses in a toast.

“He took a class for that, too. One of the groups where we used to live, they ran a three-month course for lifestyle slaves. A professional butler taught them things like that.”

They finished eating and he helped her with the dishes. “So tell me about yourself,” Landry said. “Cris told me just the basics.” She must have frowned at that. He clarified. “It wasn’t that he didn’t want to talk about you because you meant little to him. He wanted to protect your privacy. It was quite obvious to me from how he sounded when talking about you that he loved you very much.”

She didn’t know how to deal with that information. “Oh.”

“He told me your step-father went to jail for attacking you.”

Her stomach turned. “Do we need to talk about that right now?” she asked, her jaw tight.

“Of course not. Not if you don’t wish to.”

“Good.”

After they finished eating and he helped her with the dishes, she yawned. “I’m going to go change clothes. Want to watch TV for a while?”

“Ah, we’re already acting like an old married couple.”

She changed into an oversized T-shirt and comfy sleeping shorts. He didn’t change, but he pulled the shirttail free of his jeans and unbuttoned it. She didn’t miss the pale scars twisting across his abdomen.

He followed her gaze. “Yes, I’m not very pretty, am I?” He patted his lap. “Put your feet up here, Madame.”

She laid back on the couch and moaned as he began massaging her feet. “That’s great!”

No one had given her a foot massage since…

Even though a few of her clients were into foot worship, she couldn’t stomach the thought of most of them touching her. No one had really touched her since Cris left. Cris had always given damn good foot rubs.

“Yes, I taught him this,” Landry said as he slowly kneaded her feet. “Does that surprise you?

That a Master enjoys doing this?”

She looked up at him, caught his teasing expression. “I know. No assumptions.”

He grinned. “No assumptions. Absolutely.”

They talked until well past midnight. Landry called Cris twice more, never revealing where he was or what they were doing. Eventually they moved to her bedroom. He went into the bathroom and changed into a pair of silk boxers.

“So I don’t get a preview tonight?” she teased.

He laughed as he slipped under the sheets with her. “Let’s let the sexual tension build. You barely know me.”

She wouldn’t deny letting him draw her close and cuddle her in his arms as they settled on their sides felt good.

Damn good.

She liked the way his body fit hers. He kissed the back of her neck. “Comfy?”

“Yeah. Actually, I am.”

“Good.”