by Cynthia Dane
“If you weren’t, you would say you’re going to visit your mom and that you’re sorry you’re leaving me with the job five weeks before we open. Don’t you get it? I need you!”
My fists slam on the table. People are looking at us, some of them overtly while the others give us side-glares to rival our mothers. Fuck yeah, I’m being disruptive. Don’t you judge me. Don’t you see? I’m sitting at this fucking table with the woman I love, her telling me that she wants to take a break from sex and romance. Right when I’m falling head over heels!
The hell is her problem?
“Ian.” She puts one hand on mine, and instantly I feel soothed… until I remember what she said only a few minutes ago. “You haven’t done anything. All I need is a short break from what we have personally going on so I can sort out my thoughts. You asked for the same thing a while ago, didn’t you?”
“That was different,” I growl. “I didn’t want a break. I wanted time to figure out my feelings for you.”
“And so do I. Except I can’t keep sleeping with you, let alone… the other stuff… while I’m sorting it out. It keeps confusing me.”
“You’re confused?”
If her eyes roll any harder, I might be picking them up off the floor. “I don’t want this to be dramatic. I don’t want this to be an end. I know the love thing is making this more difficult…”
“Kathryn.” I snatch my hand away and clasp it over hers. It’s domineering. It’s probably uncalled for. Like fuck I’m giving her the chance to even think about getting away from me, though. “Do you love me?”
“What?”
I said that too loudly. I glance around the restaurant, wondering who’s listening. People we do business with. People who know our parents. People who are gossips and want a chance to say, “Did you hear about Ian Mathers and Kathryn Alison having a lover’s spat in public? Truly their parents’ children.”
Kathryn narrows her eyes. “How dare you ask me that.”
“How dare I? I’ve been pretty forthcoming with my feelings for you. The least you could do is be more forthcoming with me.”
“I have been.”
We’re at an impasse. I’m pissed. She’s pissed. The server’s pissed because he wants to give us our food. Meanwhile, yours truly keeps fantasizing about all of this going away… about us going back to my place, or hers, and fucking our problems away.
Kathryn leans back in her seat, crossing her arms. “You can be such an asshole, Mathers.”
“I’m an asshole?”
“You fucking heard me.”
“Says the woman breaking up with me.”
“I’m not…” She cuts herself off, holding up her hands. “Fine. I’m a huge asshole, but at least I stand up for myself. I doubt you can say that for many of the women you’ve dated before.”
“Now hold on…”
“I’ve gotta cool off.” Kathryn stands, the look on her face broadcasting how little she wants to deal with me. No, Katie, don’t leave… where are you going? Are you coming back? Please tell me that this is hormones, a bad day, anything other than you walking out that door and not answering your phone for weeks or responding to my non-work texts for days, and actually leaving for Europe as you sort out whatever the fuck you need to sort the hell out.
Damnit, Kathryn! Don’t you know that I love you? Don’t you know that I’d do anything at this point? Anything to see you walk through the door and say that this was all a joke?
Where are you going?
Come back!
Chapter 16
IAN
I am walking through a haze of nothing but work, drinks with businesspeople, and books, movies, and people arguing on the internet. I am bitter. I am annoyed. I am everything I fucking hate in a whiny little insecure man.
Kill me.
It’s been four weeks since Kathryn dumped me. Oh, I know what she called it. Taking a break. Thinking. Contemplating the birds and the bees and the whips and chains. She can call it whatever she wants. I know she’s dumped me. Otherwise, why would she avoid me outside of work? Why won’t she kiss me before she leaves for home?
All right, I can understand wanting to take a break from the kink if it’s really getting to her. I can even understand wanting to avoid sex… I mean, I guess. Wouldn’t make me terribly happy, but it’s better than not being able to be with her at all.
Four weeks of not enjoying her touch, her breaths next to me in bed. Her company in the tub. Her light snores as she dozes on my shoulder or curls up beneath my covers, next to my cat.
And then… two weeks of no Kathryn at all. She went to Europe right away, visiting her mother, or at least that’s what she said. Before she left, she was morose, confused, frayed…
When she returned, she looked and acted like the Kathryn Alison I have seen sporadically over the years.
I first saw her in a café, where I was having lunch with some of the investors for The Grand. Minding my own business, sipping lattes and trying to think about anything but women, and then in waltzed Kathryn with two women I know from the Domme scene.
She was smiling.
Smiling.
Laughing. Carrying on. Making jokes before politely ordering her food with a grin.
I caught her eye in the beginning. Her smile faltered around me. It felt like an arrow to the chest.
Of course, I texted her. I held back my real feelings, asking her how her trip was and letting her know that it was good to see her glowing. Whatever happened in Europe, it must have been good for her.
I wonder if she found another man.
Ugh, not something I want to think about. Yet how can I think of anything else? Kathryn is a beautiful, radiant woman who attracts people to her like an angel. She attracted me, didn’t she? I apparently couldn’t give her what she wanted. Or at least not enough.
You know, if she would tell me…
No, Ian, don’t act like this. It’s not becoming of a gentleman. Nobody wants to be around a whiny ass who is experiencing heartache for the first time in his young life. As my mother told me when I went to her place to moan, “You’re so used to getting what you want. How about you think about what another person wants for once?”
I have the sinking suspicion that my mother has something to do with Kathryn’s disappearance. I wouldn’t put it past her. Especially since she’s been making comments about my lifestyle, if you know what I mean.
I can only imagine what Kathryn has told her.
Four weeks. Now here I am, sitting in The Dark Hour with James and another friend who has only been here a couple of times, as he’s not too much into kink. We’re all stag. Gwen’s off visiting relatives, and as far as anyone here is concerned, I’m single.
I should feel relieved here. Seeing other men with their subs usually makes me feel better about my own future. Let’s also not forget the beautiful women abound. More than one has made eyes at me from across the room. Three months ago, two months ago, I would have been tempted to flirt back.
It feels wrong now.
Kathryn made a comment about me “fucking some other blonde,” but I don’t want to. Every time one of these young subs looks at me, I see her face, her eyes, her hair… even if the woman in question looks completely different from Kathryn. A Domme walked by, and I wanted to ask her if it could really work between someone like us.
Plus, you know… this is the last place we made love.
Sex is not on the table for me tonight. I don’t even feel right watching the show that begins between a man and his nubile sub, a woman whom every man wants because she has “all the right curves” and the meekest voice in the room. Some guys get really turned on by that. Normally, I would at least enjoy the spanking her round ass gets from a paddle.
It feels wrong. I wish we had gone to a normal bar or club tonight. Somewhere far away from the kink.
“Uh oh,” James says after the show ends. “Bunch of bitches on patrol. Three o’cloc
k.”
The crowds part to admit a formidable group of four Dommes, their hair loud, their voices louder, and their boots clapping against the floor with every heavy step. Right in front is Eva Warren, her spiky hair and jewelry enough to make this small group of men here cross their legs and look the other way. I remember her holding one of my own kitchen knives. She was not talking about stabbing me in the heart.
I barely recognize the other women. Some of them aren’t from around here, but there’s a high-end convention going on in town and this is probably a once-a-year gathering of Dommes. Like the worst sorority on campus. Well, worst if you’re a man who prefers his women a bit more… docile.
A woman completely unlike the one bringing up the rear.
Kathryn.
She’s scurrying to catch up, holding a coat check in her hand and explaining to Eva that she was held up in the checkroom. They laugh, Eva offering to buy my Katie a drink before they sit down on the other side of the room. Five women. Five Dommes.
Kathryn is very… Domme tonight.
It’s not only her black pantsuit hugging every part of her body. It’s her metallic jewelry hanging down her neck, dangling from her fingers, and mingling with the smoky makeup she’s put on for this night. It’s her gait as she walks, her posture as she sits and drinks, and her manner of speaking to the other women – and men – around her. Commanding. Dominating. Masculine, but with a touch of feminine.
It’s her hair, resting atop her head in a crisp twist decorated with large crystals.
It’s that entrancing look. That demeanor. Countenance. Visage. I don’t fucking care what it is. It’s the way she glances at me before going back to whatever raunchy conversation the other Dommes are having, as if I’m not here at all.
Perhaps it’s for the best.
“Mathers,” James says, clapping me on the shoulder. “Look alive. We’ve got company.”
Company.
Women.
Subs, to be exact.
Two of them. They look like best friends, or at least the kind of girls who come to these things together so they don’t have to be alone. This place is safe, as far as them not having to worry about being attacked or stalked, but I imagine it’s still scary for a sub to work up the courage to come to this sort of place by herself, looking for a Dom for tonight, for eternity.
Under normal circumstances, I would consider this my lucky night. You see, this is my last night I’ll have to burn for a while. The opening ball at The Grand is next weekend, and then I’ll be ass-deep in running the place until the family is confident enough to fully turn it over to the actual manager.
These aren’t normal circumstances, however. I’m looking at these girls, dressed in matching lingerie and sporting pretty collars, and wishing they would leave. Don’t tempt me. I might actually take up one of you for an evening of frustrated domination. I’d take you roughly, bitterly, wishing you were a woman named Kathryn instead of the stand-in you are. So, you see, it’s a good idea I not interact tonight.
I look over at the group of Dommes. Kathryn is blocked by Eva, but sometimes she leans far enough back that I see the white of her throat. If she were with me right now, I’d suck it until there was no more skin to leave my mark on.
“I’m sorry, ladies,” James says in his smooth voice. “I’m taken. My girlfriend is currently not here. This gentleman here…” he points to me. “Ian Mathers. Maybe you’ve heard of him.”
They shake their heads, smiling in apology.
“Ah, well, he’s a real killer. He’s not saying much tonight, though.” He kicks my shin, enough to make me react.
“I’m afraid I’m not available either. Sorry.”
Both girls are crestfallen. Our other friend is definitely not in the mood, even if he’s single. The kind of sex these girls want isn’t the kind our friend can deliver.
So this guy is incapable of Doming, and James isn’t the cheating asshole type. That leaves me, the man everyone thinks is unattached and game to fuck anything that moves and will say, “Yes, sir.”
You know, if I played my cards right, I could probably have both of them tonight.
The thought is so unappealing that I almost blanch at the thought.
“Since when are you unavailable?” James asks. “Last I checked, the closest you got to a relationship was with that actress. Isn’t she screwin’ your dad now? Or is that guy in the tabloids somebody else?”
I don’t answer.
“Fine, man. Be that way.”
After politely smiling and nodding my head to the ladies, I get up and excuse myself to the restroom.
I don’t go to the restroom.
I wander around the room, avoiding the group of Dommes and the woman I’m convinced I love. There’s no way she’s going to talk to me in…
“Ian.”
This place is so dark in some corners that I barely see Kathryn when I pass her. She’s leaning against the wall near the women’s restroom. Probably escorted one of her friends here and is now waiting to go back to their table.
“Kati… Kathryn.” I keep my voice level, although I can’t stop from fidgeting with the buttons on my dinner jacket. “Good to see you. Will I see you back at work soon? We’ve been sorely missing you.” That’s an understatement. Valerie’s told me that Anita’s broken down crying from all the work more than once. Kathryn better be paying her double.
“Monday. Hope I didn’t cause too much trouble. Would’ve been back this week, but my father called me away to help him with some personal matters.”
“I see.”
“You look…” Her eyes dart up and down, taking in what I’m wearing, how I’m standing… probably how I smell. “Good. Saw your new friends over there.” She nods toward the girls accepting complimentary drinks from James. He’s leaning in, telling them about the best Doms to try next, since I’m apparently out. “They’re pretty. Should be fun.”
“It’s not like that.”
“Oh?” She almost looks amused. Had I said that too quickly?
I look around, making sure the coast is clear. Or at least that no other Domme is gonna walk by the moment I lean in to say something private to my… girlfriend. Wow, she really does not feel like my girlfriend. Let me tell you, though, I would give anything, from a fortune to my right leg, to kiss her.
“Can we talk?”
Her expression remains unchanged. This feisty Domme is going to be the end of me. Because I can’t even imagine her getting down on her knees, sucking my cock, and asking me to come inside her. This is not the type of woman who would do this. Kathryn Alison would never. Only Katie would, and she’s nowhere around this club tonight.
I can still remember what it’s like to enter her. To hear her moans. To feel her climax on my cock, clutching it inside her and massaging it until I can’t hold in my seed any longer.
Kathryn glances at my crotch. Great.
“I don’t have time. The shit I have to say to you would take an eternity to get through.”
I have no idea if that’s good or bad. Maybe neither. Maybe both.
“All I’ll say is that… well, I’m not angry with you, Ian. I’ve missed you.”
Nope. Not daring to answer, even though I would really love to get on my knees and start groveling. “Shit, shit, I’ve missed you too! Let’s go back to my place and tell each other how much we’ve been missed!” The fact that her sudden departure from the country is the reason we’ve missed each other escapes my mind for a moment.
“Even though I’ve missed you, now is not the time to sort our shit out.”
Our shit?
“Take care, Ian.” By some stroke of luck, she puts her hand on my shoulder before she walks away. “I’ll see you at the hotel on Monday.”
She kicks herself off the wall, arms still crossed but eyes not pointing to the floor. She’s confidant, regardless of her feelings for me. Shit, it’s that confidence that originally attracted me
to her. Maybe I didn’t know it at the time, but it’s a definite truth. My love for Katie grew from a germ as small as an ounce of her confidence.
Not just because she’s a Domme, either, but because she’s the type of woman to go out and get what she wants… and I admire that. Am attracted to that.
“I’ve missed you too…” I say loud enough for her to hear, or at least I hope. “My darling.”
Kathryn looks at me with a depraved grin and joins a woman coming out of the bathroom.
I go back to James. The subs are gone. So are we, as soon as our drinks are finished.
Chapter 17
KATHRYN
Let me tell you about this past month.
The moment I walked out on Ian in that restaurant, frustrated, confused, and definitely heartbroken because he’s as dense as the ocean, I made the decision to sort out what it is I wanted before talking to him outside of work. The only way I could do that was by removing myself physically from the situation.
Could not remove myself emotionally, as I quickly found out the moment I stepped off the plane in Berlin and saw an airport attendant who looked a lot like Ian. Spoke German, but you know, doppelgangers aren’t going to be 100% the same.
I went into the nearest bathroom and fucking cried.
Wish I could tell you that I spent the whole fortnight visiting my mother. Telling her what’s going on. Getting hugs and jokes and some cookies from the local bakery. To be fair, there was a stellar shop on the corner of the street my mom’s townhouse is on. But I only got to visit it twice, because I stayed with her for four days. I was going to spend the whole trip there, but she largely ignored me and the neuroses of her housekeeper sent me screaming into the German streets.
So, I took my chances doing a bit of traveling. Berlin. Stockholm. London. I avoided Paris like the plague, even though I’ve usually enjoyed trips there, because of the baggage associated with the City of Romance. While on one hand I didn’t get to talk to people much outside of hotel hospitality, I did get a clean, shiny new environment to think about what it is I want from my life.
