Ægir's Wife Ch. 05

How anyone could think she was beautiful was beyond him? "You are welcome to visit Monika sometime...if you can fit your daughter into your busy schedule." He was pleased to see that his retort had managed to score at least a bit as the woman drew back and looked around the packed room.

"Yes, well, I am not sure how long I will be in London. I have a shoot this week. But then I have been invited to holiday on the French Riviera by a Saudi prince," she waved her hand at a tall, slender man across the room. "It was nice running into you anyway. Please do give what I said some thought. It seems such a shame to deny the world such masculine beauty."

She stood up and allowed her eyes to scan his wife from the top of her head to her sandaled feet. Her scowl did nothing to make her more attractive as she brushed dismissively passed Kirsty, "I am sure someone like you was born to motherhood more than I ever was. Too bad you did not end up with the right brother."

She shook her dyed blond tresses as her vitriol spewed forth, "I am sure that Mikael would have welcomed your homely mothering skills for the child. Or maybe Sven? He always was a cold fish, but with hips like those you would certainly fulfil that man's fantasy of the perfect breeding sow. But Bjorn is clearly out of your league, darling." Her laughter followed the woman as she walked away without so much as asking about her daughter or taking their number.

Bjorn stared frozen in time after her for a long moment as the power of his anger ebbed and flowed like that Norse blood in his veins. He wanted to go after her, wanted to poke and prod at the tiny wounds his harsh words had inflicted until they were the gaping, festering holes that had almost consumed his brother for over two years.

But he knew he could not afford the luxury. It was more important that he soothe things with their wife. Not just for his sake, but Mikael's as well. He forced a reassuring smile and looked up as the first tears spilled from his wife's eyes. He held out his hand and tried to stand up. "Please, Kirsty. Please, I can explain," he begged as she shook her head and ran crying towards the bathrooms.

He stared after her as he finally managed to get to his feet while dabbing the spilled juice from his slacks. His movement was quelled by the dark hand planted firmly on his chest, "I think you have done quite enough, stud muffin. Let me handle this one," Roz said.

Bjorn would have sworn there was not a submissive bone in his body, but the clear authority and demanding tone the woman employed stopped him in his tracks. "Yes, Ma'am," he muttered as he felt all hope that things might work out draining from him.

His shoulder's slumped. "I love her, you know," he muttered feeling like that little boy making excuses when he dropped his mother's favorite rose pot.

The woman smiled and placed a hand on his shoulder, "I know you do, kiddo. But it ain't always easy for women like us to accept that love. Not with women like that lauding it over us and reminding us how unworthy we are," she sighed. "Leave it to me. I'll see what I can do, suga. It's for damned sure that girl deserves some love and happiness in her life."

***

Kirsty huddled against the wall trying to stifle the worst of the tears. It seemed all that she did was cry anyway. Now this. Her.

The mysterious Greta, who had been an unseen demon in her life especially between her and Mikael. If that was not enough, the woman turned out to be the fucking hottest super model in the whole damned world. You could not go to a single newsstand without seeing at least one and usually two or three magazines with that striking face and perfect size zero body.

Of course, none of them had bothered to tell her that her predecessor was Miss Perfect. Lying bastards. All of them. Not a single one had had the balls to tell her the truth, but now she knew. Now she knew.

And there was absolutely nothing she could do about it! She certainly was not going to reject the precious little girl that the woman had born and then abandoned. It was not Monika's fault that she had the world's best DNA.

And them? Well, there was not a damned thing she could do to hurt Sven. That always had been beyond her abilities to reach Mister Cool. But Mikael? A few nights without her answering his video calls would serve the coward right.

Bjorn? That was just it. What was up with him? Why had he not told her before this? Maybe the way that woman was all over him. She might have been his former sister-in-law, but Kirsty would have sworn the woman was coming on to him?

"Kirsty Elizabeth Montgomery Dickens! I know you are in here. You have until the count of three to come out or I start kicking these doors in. One stall at a time," Kirsty had to actually chuckle through the tears, because she could see Roz doing just that.

"Don't do that," she hiccupped as she tentatively opened the door a crack. "I'm coming out. Just give me a minute."

"Sixty seconds and no more. Fifty-nine. Fifty-eight. Fifty-seven. Fifty-six. Fifty-five."

Kirsty chuckled as she reached for the tissue and tore off a huge chunk of it, swiping at her eyes that she knew were red and swollen. "Oh what's the use anyway?" she said in disgust as she threw it into the loo and flushed.

"Forty-three. Forty-two," she ran straight in the welcoming bosom of her friend. Roz shook her head and licked her fingers, brushing them over her cheek. "It's not use," her friend confirmed as she dragged her to the bank of sinks against the wall.

She pulled a handful of rough paper that passed for hand towels from the holder on the wall and soaked them in running water before turning back to Kirsty. "Here, suga, hold these over your eyes for a couple of minutes. That should take some of the redness and swelling out of those pretty eyes...and some of the dark smudges from your cheeks."

Roz wrapped her arms about her and just held her for those long moments. It was not quite Petrine's comforting maternal warmth but it was certainly more than she would have ever gotten from Nancy Dickens, who would have probably launched into one of her tirades about it being her own fault for allowing her weight to get out of control to begin with.

Though Kirsty never could figure out exactly what her mother was talking about. When she had 'allowed' her weight to do anything. She could not remember a single photo of herself as anything other than a chubby cherub with flaming red hair and freckles. Even as a little girl. If DNA had anything to do with it, at least that was not something she would have to worry about with Monika.

She lowered the paper towels and stared at the dishevelled reflection in the mirror. She wanted to burst into tears again, but Roz squeezed her shoulders and their eyes met in the mirror, "Stop it, hunny. Stop it, right now. I can see those little wheels a turning in that brilliant mind of yours. But this time you are wrong."

She spun her around until she was staring into the warm brown depths of her friend's eyes and not mere reflections of them. Kirsty could see the gold and green flecks in them that added the warmth and sparkle that matched Roz's personality. Well, the old Roz anyway, but that seemed to be who she was dealing with at the moment.

"You listen to me, girly. From the moment, I met that man I knew he loved you. Do you hear me, child? He loves you. Your husband is head over heels, madly, passionately in love with your ass. And ex-girlfriend or not, that is not changing. Hell, I had to Dom the hottie just to keep him from following you in here."

Kirsty had to chuckle at the thought, "You didn't?"

Roz smiled, "Oh, yes, I did, suga. Poor boy, I don't think he knew what hit him." She reached for some dry towels and began to dry Kirsty's cheeks, taking the last of the dark mascara smudges with it. "If you want your revenge, maybe you should take a turn on the other end of that pretty new flogger he picked up from Jack today."

"New flogger? Bjorn bought a new flogger?"

Roz chuckled, "Little pain slut, are we?" She shook her head, "I should have guessed. But yes, why do you think he had me take you to the workshop on Topping from the Bottom? He needed to talk to Jack."

Kirsty smiled, a new flogger? Maybe Bjorn still had more interest in her than she thought.

"Thuddy or stingy?"

Roz shook her head and her thick curls bounced about her soft coffee-colored skin, "Stingy, super stingy actually, but you don't get off that easily, young lady. Did you hear me? Your husband loves you."

"So I expect you to square those shoulders, hold that head up high and shake that sweet ass when we walk out of here. You will not give a woman like that the pleasure of knowing she got to you, do you understand me? If you do, I promise you I will punish you. And my punishments aren't as much fun as stud muffins. I have a three month back-log of client reports that need filing," she threatened.

"You wouldn't?"

"Try me, suga. I don't usually make a habit of domming another man's property, but that one is so besotted that I doubt he could punish your little ass no matter how much you needed it. And you do for this one, sweetie. Who was she to him anyway? His ex-girlfriend? I didn't catch much of what was said cause I was too worried about you," Roz adjusted the straps of her sundress and pinched her cheeks for color.

"She's Monika's mother. Mikael's ex-wife."

"Wow. Didn't know you was traveling in such high company." She shook her head, "Just that the man didn't seem the type to be fooled so easily by a bit of pretty meat, but then too I only met him the once. Maybe that explains it?"

Kirsty shook her head, "Explains what?"

"Oh, nothing you need to worry about, suga. But if she is nothing more than a former sister-in-law, why should that bother you so damned much? Yeah, she did seem a tad 'friendly' for an in-law, but it was obvious even to me that Bjorn was not interested in whatever the woman was offering. Seems to me that anything else is between her and Mikael?"

Kirsty sighed, this was her opportunity. Her chance to explain it all to Roz. To come clean about the poly, just as their surprise appearance here today had outed their interest in BDSM. There was little doubt that her friend would understand. She opened her mouth to begin just as the door swung inwards and her entourage of the beautiful people took over the whole space.

Her smile was icy cold and stretched the skin tight over her angular cheeks, making her slightly garish. Perhaps that was why in all those photographs you never actually saw her smiling? Or maybe it was something deeper?

Kirsty studied her for a long moment. They were about the same height, just shy of six feet. But unlike her body with its generous curves, Greta or Gee or whatever she called herself, was so thin that you could see the bones in her cheeks, arms and shoulders. While Kirsty's skin was naturally pale to match her red hair and freckles, this woman was pasty and sickly beneath thick layers of makeup.

Their eyes met and for a heartbeat Kirsty would have sworn that she saw pain in those icy waters. But then the woman spoke, "Sorry if we disturbed anything." Her smile said that she knew exactly what Kirsty had been doing in the loo and took pleasure in her pain.

Kirsty inhaled deeply. Roz was right about one thing...she would not give this woman any more pleasure. She smiled more bravely than she felt, "No, it is fine. We were just finishing up. I have not been feeling well lately. But I'm sure you remember how tough those first few months of a pregnancy can be?"

Kirsty whispered a prayer under her breathe to Freyja for forgiveness at the way she stretched the truth. She smiled at the shocked look on her rivals face, "Monika needs a little brother or sister after all."

It took the woman a bit longer to recover as Kirsty studied her reflection in the mirror for a moment before picking up her bag and smiling at Roz. "You mean cousin, of course."

Kirsty smiled as she brushed shoulders with the super model as she opened the bathroom door, "Do I?" She begged further forgiveness from her goddess for the outright lie that scored a direct hit as what little color the woman did have drained completely from her cheeks.

"Please do drop your card by the table later. I am sure that Monika would love to see her Mummy again after all these years." She drove the dagger deeper. She just kept walking as Roz had said with head high and shoulders squared.

***

Bjorn squeezed in the tight space in the dimly lit corridor, looking over his wife's shoulder at the shiny metal butt plug with the large, fake red ruby at the end. He shrugged as he reached around her to caress the end, "It has possibilities. The red against your creamy skin would look nice."

He loved the way that her cheeks flamed an equally deep shade of the color as she dropped her eyes, but he was not so fond of how her elbow felt to his solar plexus. "Aww, what was that for?" he teased.

He knew that of her cadre of acquaintances, only Roz could be considered a real friend. He frowned, so why had his wife not confided the truth in even this woman? She was as out of the closet with both polyamory and her interest in BDSM.

Yet in all these months, all the dinners, all the girls' night movies that he knew was an attempt to distract her friend and lighten her dark mood as her divorce drug on and on, Kirsty could not tell him there was not a single opportunity to come clean about their own lifestyle.

Hell, Mikael's visit would have been a good chance. Though his brother had smiled and held out his hand in greeting to Roz, Bjorn had caught the deep pain in his eyes at the words... 'my brother-in-law.'

It was one thing to hide the truth from her parents. Though he would so love to tell them, if for no other reason than to see the look on her mother's face. If the woman had so much trouble accepting her daughter's relationship with one long-haired computer geek and business executive, he would love to see her deal with three Nordic fishermen. The thought brought a cheeky grin to his face.

That smile faded fast though when he considered the possibility that Kirsty had not told her friend the truth because she was ashamed of them. He frowned, was it possible that some of her mother's prejudices had worn off on their wife?

It was not something he would have thought possible, but the past months here he admitted they had grown further and further apart. He was not even sure he knew her at all any more. Maybe he never had? Maybe there was a grain of truth in Sven's accusation that they had been nothing more than a holiday fantasy for her?

"Hey, earth to stud muffin. Move those tight buns, boy."

Bjorn was not entirely certain he liked Roz sometimes. Well, not the woman. That side of her. He had never had any trouble showing courtesy to other Doms and even Dommes in clubs like this one. And while he might not always understand or appreciate some of the things that happened between his brothers and their wife, especially Mikael's sadistic shit, he had dealt with his jealousies. But sometimes Roz's Domme side bordered upon rude.

Of course, the woman was a switch. Maybe it was more show, since she was feeling vulnerable and used right now? Maybe she just needed a stronger Dom to put her in her place?

Not that he was interested, any more than Mikael had been. No, their sometimes bratty wife was more than sub enough for them. But he would not mind being around to see the woman on the other end of a flogger someday.

Nonetheless, he followed them on to the next stall as they listened to the man's spiel about his antique Violet wands. He watched as the man held the glass appliance over his own arm and electricity arced in a display of pretty lights, yellow, pink and of course the violet for which it was named.

"So do I have any volunteers?" the man asked as he held out the wand.

"Oh, me, me," his wife bounced up and down like their little girl did when you signed and mentioned the word park.

He reached out a restraining hand though, "No." He watched the storm clouds gather in her face.

He knew that she was still angry with him about Greta. A part of him could even understand, she felt betrayed that none of them had mentioned since leaving the Holding the woman had become some kind of model.

But what she did not seem to get was that it simply was not as significant to them as it was to her. So what if the woman made her money appearing half nude on the cover of magazines, she was still the cold-hearted bitch that had betrayed Mikael, tried to seduce him and abandoned her own child? What was so fucking beautiful about a woman like that?

He was certain that this only added fuel to her fires, but he doused those quickly as he leaned in and whispered, "I do not want hundreds of volts of electricity coursing through your body. Not until we know for sure if you are pregnant, Kirsty."

She nodded her head slowly as her hand went protectively to her stomach, "Yes, Sir," she whispered though a bit petulantly.

"I will bring you back next month and buy you the damned thing if you aren't, I promise," he said as he tried to mend some bridges with her.

She shook her head, "No, it is all right. I understand and you're right, of course. I would not take the risk, not if..."

The other woman turned to them, "So it wasn't just something you said to get back at that bitch? You're really pregnant?" she squealed.

"Shhh, Roz," Kirsty admonished as her friend gripped her in tight embrace then suddenly released her.

"Oh sorry, sweetie," she gleamed. "How far along are you?"

"We don't know for certain yet," his wife said quietly as she looked down at the floor. "I really should not have said what I did like that."

He was totally lost, but something told him that more had happened in that bathroom than he knew about. But now was not the time to discuss it. Though there never seemed to be time anymore to discuss anything.

Their lives were on autopilot. Get up, get ready, long commute on the train while being meticulously careful not to make eye contact or smile, work, work, work, then more train, followed by dinner, television or more work before dropping exhausted into bed. Too tired to do anything more than pull her into his arms and inhale her soft scent as he drifted off to sleep. This place, this life drained you as the toughest day at sea, the most violent storm never could.

He missed the sea. He missed his brothers. His mother. The Holding. Hell, he missed his wife most of all and he held her in his arms every night. Or the shell of the woman he had thought he knew. He sighed and followed along behind them as the women moved on to the next stall. Just as he would move on tomorrow and the next day and the day after that, through the humdrum existence that had become their lives.

***

Kirsty blushed this was a bad idea. How had she let Roz convince her to do this? She clutched the thin wrap as tightly about her curves as she could. "I really think I should just get back into my own clothes and go home," she pleaded with her friend.

"Don't be silly. You know you want to feel that new flogger on your back, sweetie," Roz teased.

She admitted the idea did have merits. She could count on one hand and have fingers left over the number of times that she and Bjorn had played since they moved back here. She could not even remember how long it had been.

Part of it was that unlike her bedroom on the Holding, there simply was no room in their tiny flat. Swinging floggers took a bit of room and the couple of times that Bjorn had tried it was difficult for him to get a good rhythm going. While the basic padded St. Andrews Cross lacked the ornate style of the furnishings in her bedroom, it would certainly work better than the makeshift way that he had strung the rope over the pole in their closet.