The Dom’s Forever: The Pleasure Wars | Part Three

by West, Harper

  The Dom’s Forever

  The Pleasure Wars | Part Three

  Harper West

  Edited by

  Red Axe Editing

  Copyright © 2020 by Harper West

  All rights reserved.

  This book is intended for readers 18+

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Epilogue

  Thank you!

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  Also by Harper West

  About Harper

  Chapter 1

  Killian

  She was late.

  I double checked the text messages we'd exchanged about meeting for dinner just in case, but I already knew she was late. Only by about fifteen minutes, but that was fifteen minutes that were unusual.

  The way this usually went was I came in about five minutes late from whatever I was doing beforehand, and she gave me shit about wasting her time.

  I wasn't used to being on the other side of it, sitting there with my menu and my glass of wine, waiting for her to show up.

  The waitress kept eyeing me, and I wondered if she thought I'd been stood up and was waiting to make her move. She would look at me and then go whisper with her fellow servers before coming back to ask if I was sure I didn't need anything else. Either she was interested, or she was angling for a big tip, but I kept smiling politely at her and telling her I was fine and she didn't need to worry. My companion would be there soon.

  'Companion' was a much less damning word than 'date,' and I was almost tempted to just go ahead and say 'wife' to get her to leave me alone, even though I wasn't sure how well that would work, judging by the way she was still looking at me like I was something she wanted to eat.

  Every time the door opened, I lifted my head to look, willing it to be Ash so I didn't have to keep sitting there feeling awkward, but the first six or seven times it wasn't her. Families came in, other couples clearly at this steakhouse for dates, and even one or two people who were on their own, but no sign of the woman I was meant to be meeting.

  I was just about to call her and make sure she hadn't died in a ditch somewhere when the door opened and she came in, looking around for me with a flustered look on her face.

  She spoke to the hostess for a second and then was brought over to my table, much to the dismay of our waitress. I had half a mind to ask for another.

  I waited for Ash to get settled and take off her jacket, hands folded on the table in front of me.

  When she finally pushed her hair out of her face and glanced up at me, I made sure I was wearing my most placid expression.

  "Is this the part where I give you grief for keeping me waiting?" I asked before reaching for my glass and taking a sip of the wine.

  She made a face and sighed. "I'm sorry. I should have texted you when I was on the way."

  "And yet," I said. "What held you up?"

  Ash picked up her menu and busied herself looking at it, and I couldn't tell if she was actually that interested in what the offerings were or if she was trying to avoid looking at me while she answered my question.

  There was a prickly feeling in my stomach at the thought of her trying to hide something from me, and I didn't like it one bit.

  There was no honesty clause in the contract of our marriage, but at the same time, I'd thought we'd finally gotten to a point where we respected each other enough to not play games or hide the truth from each other. Maybe I was wrong, and it was just me.

  I watched her until she finally licked her lips and answered.

  "I just got held up at work. There was one of those customers who didn't want to leave even though we were closing, and I didn't want to leave Diane alone with him. She's new, and all."

  I turned that over in my head. Ash had mentioned having a new co-worker, since one of her old ones had left to have a baby. She was partially in charge of training this new girl, so it would make sense for Ash to stick around and help her out.

  "Alright," I said. "I'd appreciate a head’s up next time, though, if you'd be so kind. I was beginning to feel like shark bait here all alone."

  She glanced up at that, frowning. "What do you mean?"

  I jerked my head in the direction of the little gathering of waitresses who were standing by the doors to the kitchen, watching us, no doubt trying to figure out what the connection between the two of us was and if they needed to back off. Or spit in Ash's food.

  When we glanced over, they hurried back to their tasks, but Ash figured it out quickly enough and rolled her eyes.

  "You can't even go out to dinner without being swamped by admirers. How unfortunate to be you."

  I laughed and shook my head. "It's not all bad. We'll probably get incredible service."

  "You'll probably get incredible service. They're probably plotting how they can poison me and make it look like an accident."

  "Fatalistic."

  "Realistic," she shot back, giving me a little smile before she went back to the menu.

  It was the usual dynamic between the two of us. Ash argued, I let her, it ended up being amusing more than irritating.

  We'd been meeting for these dinners ever Friday since we'd gotten two months or so deep into our "marriage" as a way to check in with each other and spend time together in the midst of our busy lives.

  There were certain things that I'd required of her as my wife for a year, and Ash showed up for them, displeased about a good number of them, but growing used to it, I liked to think.

  We were halfway through the contract, and it wouldn't be long before she could be free of me if she wanted to be.

  Sometimes I thought about that, and I didn't know how to feel.

  I liked Ash.

  She was fiery and funny, smart and interesting. She put up with the things about me that she probably didn't like and was always trying to get me to be better. Better in her eyes, probably, but I couldn't deny that some of her advice was good from time to time.

  We'd made a comfortable little friendship in the middle of our marriage, with certain benefits, of course, but still. I was going to miss that if she decided she never wanted to be seen with me again or something.

  But she had her own life. She had her own dreams and things that she needed the money I was going to give her for.

  I couldn't hold her back because I was going to be lonely.

  I didn't want to hold her back.

  I didn't know what I wanted, really. There would be no reason for us to ever do the things we did now once the marriage was over, and I was going to have to try not to miss that too much.

  When I finally shook myself from my thoughts, she was looking at me, brow furrowed. "Are you okay?" she asked.

  I nodded, going for the wine again.

  "Fine. Hungry, so if you could make a decision sometime this year, that would be lovely."

  Ash rolled her eyes, but went back to looking at her options, and when
the waitress came over to finally get our orders, she was ready and gave our server an extra-large smile when she handed her menu over.

  I tried to hide my grin in my glass, not wanting the waitress to think I was laughing at her.

  "So," I said, settling back in my seat. "Tell me about this customer."

  "What customer?"

  "The one who stayed after you were closed," I said. "Was he pompous? Too much money and not enough sense? Entitled all to hell?"

  I waited for her to make some joke about how it hadn't been me there, but it didn't come.

  Instead she played with her forks, picking one of them up and clinking it against the other where it rested on the table still.

  "No, nothing like that," she said. "He was just working on something, using the Wi-Fi. We told him he could have a little extra time while we cleaned up, and I guess he got too deep in it and lost track of time."

  "Hm. That's less entertaining."

  Ash shrugged. "Sorry, being a barista isn't all fun and glamor. Sometimes we just have to make coffee and deal with forgetful customers."

  "Well," I said. "You don't have to."

  She rolled her eyes. "Killian, we're not having this conversation again. You already know where I stand."

  She was right. I did already know.

  I'd been trying to get her to quit her job at the coffee shop almost since we'd started this whole thing. She worked long hours and dealt with shitty customers, and I kept trying to point out to her that she didn't have to if she didn't want to.

  The money I gave her every month would more than cover what she would lose if she quit, and even if it didn't, it wasn't like I couldn't just give her more.

  I got that it was a pride thing, but I couldn't understand why she couldn't find something else to be prideful about.

  I wasn't going to tell her that, though. I valued having her not want to punch me in the dick.

  Once the food arrived, we settled in to eat, not really talking much. There were a lot of things I wanted to say, but I just... didn't say them.

  Instead I ate my steak, focusing on the task of adding the demiglace to it and getting potatoes on my fork, washing it all down with sips of wine.

  "How was your day?" Ash asked finally, glancing up halfway through her salmon like it had just occurred to her to ask.

  I shrugged a shoulder. "Same old. Meetings, moving money around, looking at investment opportunities."

  She tipped her head to the side. "I have a question about that, actually."

  "About investments?" I asked, surprised. In all the time I'd known her, she never really asked me about how I kept my money moving and making more money. I'd assumed she either didn't care because she found it dull or because it was one of those rich people things she avoided dealing with so she didn't want to punch me.

  But she was nodding, licking sauce off the back of her fork thoughtfully. "Yeah. How do you pick what to invest in? Do companies like present you a plan for how their business is going to look, and if you like it, you say yes?"

  "Not exactly. I have someone who does the research for me, and then presents me with the options. I choose from those what I'm interested in."

  "Hmm." She nodded, looking like she was taking that in. "Okay. And what if someone did come to you, asking for help in that way. Is that something you'd entertain at all?"

  "Are you looking for investors for something?" I asked her, confused. I'd like to think that if she had some plan for her own business, I would have already heard about it.

  Ash laughed, shaking her head. "No, not me. You know I don't have anything going on. But I have a friend who has started a business, and I think he could benefit from some investments."

  "Have I met this friend?" I asked her, even though I already knew the answer to that. Ash kept me fairly separate from her life, mostly because she didn't want people to know about our deal.

  "No," she replied. "It's Simon."

  I fought to keep my face neutral at that.

  Simon was Ash's new "friend." Her parents and his were apparently friends, and he was from her hometown and had just moved into the area.

  So they'd been meeting up for coffee and lunches and dinners for the past month or so, getting to know each other.

  I hadn't been aware that he had a business he was trying to get off the ground, but then I tended to tune out when she was talking about him because...

  Well. I wasn't really sure why.

  Well. I had an inkling, but I didn’t really want to poke at it too closely.

  There was something about hearing about Simon and how much time he and Ash were spending together. Something that got that prickly feeling in my stomach all riled up again, making me want to know what they were doing exactly, and not know at all at the same time.

  Ash kept using the word ‘friend’ to describe him, and maybe they were just friends. Maybe the two of them were just bonding over being from the same place and working to get by in the city. Maybe it was all because Ash’s mom had asked her to look in on the son of a friend, and as much as Ash complained about her parents sometimes, she would do almost anything for them.

  But the fact remained that there was nothing in the contract to stop her from dating him if she wanted to. Extramarital affairs were worked right into the whole thing, added on the assumption that we weren’t going to get along and would want to have outside people to go to after we got done fighting our way through sex or whatever.

  But we did get along for the most part.

  Better than we had before, at any rate, when I felt like everything that came out of my mouth made her want to hit me in the face. We had sex, with varying levels of kink, and we hung out and had dinner together, and it was becoming a nice little routine.

  I didn’t much like the thought of someone breaking that up.

  That was all it was.

  Ash was still looking at me, waiting for an answer to what she’d asked before, and I made myself focus on that. It was a business thing, and I was very good at those. “It would depend on what he’s got to work with,” I said. “Investors like business plans. Well thought out ones.”

  She smiled. “He’s got one of those. He has a partner he’s working with, and they’ve drawn up everything in so much detail it makes my head spin when he talks about it.”

  “Oh, did he come here with a partner?” I asked. “I thought he was alone.”

  “It’s someone he did a workshop with. He was looking to start up a glassblowing business out here, so Simon came to meet him.”

  So not a romantic partner, then, more than likely. I fought not to grind my teeth.

  “Glassblowing isn’t really an essential sort of thing,” I told her. “Most investors like to spend their money on things that will be in demand enough to ensure they get a return.”

  She nodded. “I know. And Simon knows that, too. It’s why he’s been hesitant to reach out to anyone about it. But this town does have a very thriving art scene. I’ve been trying to get him connected to people from school, because I know a lot of them have galleries or little side businesses. I’ve seen his work, and it’s really good. It’s amazing the kinds of things artists can make with their hands.”

  It wasn't a slight against me or other people who tended to use their money to make things instead of their hands, but there was so much admiration in her tone that it was hard to take it otherwise, and I had to bite my tongue to keep from huffing with irritation.

  "Well," I said. "Then I'm sure someone with more of an eye for art would be able to help him."

  "Do you know anyone?" she asked. "That's your sort of circle, isn't it?"

  "Artists?"

  "People with money," she replied, rolling her eyes at me.

  I sighed. "Well, yes, but I don't know how many of them have an eye for art aside from wanting expensive paintings to hang in their homes."

  She chewed on her lip for a second, and I could tell she was close to asking me to do some research about it. Or to ask ar
ound. And it wouldn't be hard to do so. I knew plenty of people with money who were looking for up and coming businesses to support, but I felt petulant at the idea.

  "You know, in six months, you could invest in him," I pointed out before she could say anything.

  Ash blinked, looking surprised. "Oh. I guess I could, couldn't I? I should put all that money to good use somehow."

  I nodded. "I can walk you through it, if you want. It's not hard to get the process started."

  Her face lit up in a smile, and I swallowed hard, glancing down at my plate. Six months wasn't a short amount of time by any reasoning, but it was definitely seeming smaller and smaller by the day.

  "Thanks, Killian," she said. "I'll take you up on that. I don't know if he'd want it from me, but it would be nice to have the option to help."

  I nodded, giving her a tight smile, and we went back to our meals.

  Once we'd finished eating, and I'd paid and tipped, we headed out together. Usually we came together and left together, and Ash came to my apartment after we ate.

  She was glancing down at her phone was we walked out, and I lifted an eyebrow, watching her fire off a quick text.

  "The usual tonight, then?" I asked. "I can drive, or you can follow me."

  "Oh, I actually have plans tonight," she replied, not even looking up from her phone.

  "Plans."

  "Uh-huh. I figured I'd just come over to your place tomorrow for 'the usual.’" She didn't need to make the air quotes with her fingers for me to hear them.

  "That isn't exactly the deal, though, is it?" I asked, folding my arms.

  Then she did look up. "What?"

  "The deal. For our weekends."

  Her face folded into a frown, and she put her phone in her pocket. "We have dinner on Friday, and we have sex at some point during the weekend. That's the deal as I know it. I didn't know it had to be on a specific timeline."