by Cynthia Dane
She’s quiet for a few moments, her eyes not focusing on anything in particular. I hope her self-reflection is going well.
“Are you fucking someone else?”
Kathryn’s red in the face, that rosy hue nothing in comparison to the red beaded flowers blooming behind her. I’m so taken in by this image that I barely hear what she says.
“No.” The hardest thing in the world right now is keeping my voice steady. “You’re the only one I’m seeing.”
Derision flows through her flared nostrils. “I don’t believe you.”
“What? Why?”
She shakes her head, that wavy blond hair snaking through the air. “It’s not that I think you’re lying. It’s me having to keep my guard up so I don’t…”
“Don’t what?”
I catch a glimpse of her stone-cold façade crumbling. “Don’t fall in love with you.”
I’m tired of these silences, and yet it’s like we can’t avoid them. Especially after Katie says something like that. “You’re falling in love with me?”
“For God’s sake.” Kathryn turns away again with a click in her throat. “Yes, yes Ian. I hate every second I spend falling in love with you. For every moment I feel your affection and what you do to me, I see who you really are and want to die.”
“Who am I? Really?” This should be good.
Kathryn still won’t let me touch her. Not that I blame her. “You heard what I said in there. You’re a playboy. You have no interest in a serious relationship with anyone, least of all me.” Before I question that as well, she laughs and says, “A Domme. Could you really see yourself spending the rest of your life with a Domme? The other night doesn’t count. You’re not going to be interested in that often enough to keep me happy.”
She steps away from the window and passes me. I want to reach out and caress her arm. Hold her hand. Hold her to me. Except I don’t dare.
“Why do we have to think about the rest of our lives?”
I instantly feel like an idiot when she looks at me with nothing but pity. “I always have to think about the rest of my life, Ian. If I don’t stay one step ahead, I fall back ten more. A man who doesn’t have what will really make me happy in mind?” She shrugs. “He’s a waste of my time. I don’t care how good the sex is. You can’t expect me to live on your whims 24/7.”
“I don’t…”
“You do.” She’s in my face, calm, but too cool for me to speak to. “It’s always about what Ian Mathers wants. You want to have sex? We get to have sex. You want to dominate me? Those are your terms, fine. You want me to put on a lesbian BDSM show? Sure! Yet if I asked for any of that? You would run.”
I don’t say anything.
“I’m not a woman who can be bossed around every day of her life. The first thing you did in there was make sure everyone at the table knew that I was nothing more than a casual fuck to you. You said that in front of my father.”
Wincing, I apologize.
“Sorry tires me right now. I dunno, maybe I need to cool off, but I’m dangerously close to making a huge mistake with you, and that’s the last thing I want. We’re working together. Perhaps it’s best we drop whatever we have going on and go back to normal. Excuse me.”
She pushes past me and leaves the room. I don’t know where she goes. I’m frozen in place, looking at the spot where she stood a minute before.
There is no going back to normal.
Normal was not having her, even though I so desperately wanted her.
I’ve been carrying my secret for too long now. A few days, sure, but it’s a few days of knowledge torturing my heart, my mind, and my weary soul. You see, I’ve never been in love before. I wasn’t entirely sure I was, since the only times I thought “I think I love Kathryn” happened during sex, and that’s never a good indicator of anything.
But the moment she walks out that door, I feel an emptiness I was not familiar with.
This isn’t like the other times we parted, with hopes of seeing one another in an intimate way again. Those separations were bearable.
This…
This emptiness says I’m in love.
Kathryn thinks she’s in danger of falling in love with me?
I’m past danger. I’m mired in a hell gnawing away at my tendons and making me want to throw up the bile sitting in this emptiness I feel.
Fucked up. That’s what I did. I’ve fucked up big, and now I have to face my family and a woman who won’t stop haunting me ever since that unfortunate night I first realized I’m attracted to Kathryn. Ha. More than attracted. I’m pathetic.
Chapter 23
KATHRYN
Sometimes a girl has to wrap herself up in bed for a day and hope the world doesn’t bother her. I’m not even answering my door, and I think I’ve missed a package or two. Who cares? I’ve got better things to do, like watch TV from my bed and feel sorry for myself.
Stupid. I was so stupid to entertain the idea that Ian cares more about me than what he could get from my cunt. I bet he enjoyed taking someone like me and turning her into a sub for a round or two. Not many men get to say they tamed a Domme and got to come on her face.
Blah. Kill me.
The only person to see me in this state today is Anita, who has a key and comes and goes with food. What else is she supposed to do? I had errands to run and it’s not a scheduled day off for her. Might as well keep her busy while I waste away like a mob of heartbroken…
Ah, fuck no! I refuse to label myself as heartbroken!
“The doorman signed for these and asked that I bring them up to you.” Anita shuffles into my room and leaves two small packages on my dresser. I see cat food in her hand… almost forgot about the kitten sleeping in the other room. Would be nice if Sinéad joined me in my bed, but I doubt that’s going to happen. “Is there anything else you need from me? It’s almost dinner. I could get you take-out.”
I wave a lazy hand at her. “I’ve got leftovers. Pizza. Half a carton of Chinese food. I haven’t been in the mood to cook lately.”
Anita nods, but does not hurry to leave. It’s not only curiosity on her face. It’s genuine concern. That would be sweet, except I’m not in the mood to deal with someone’s concern.
“Well, if that’s all you need…”
“Go home, Anita. If I suddenly decide I need something that badly, I have your number.” I won’t need something that badly.
She takes her leave with barely a goodbye. Suits me fine. I like Anita. She’s a good assistant, but I’ve never seen her as a friend. Our relationship is strictly professional.
Unlike my relationship with Ian.
Groaning, I hide beneath my covers and try not to think of the bastard. I still can’t believe he said those awful things in front of our parents! Then he had the balls to follow me out and ask why I was upset? Most of all, I can’t believe I basically told him that I’m falling in love – with him. Of all people.
He’s so fucking clueless. I was so fed up with him yesterday that I got a ride home with my dad. That was one silent, awkward drive back into the city, let me tell you.
Sometimes I wish my mother were better at being a mother. That she was here, or at least nearby, and available to help me through these issues. Sure, I could call her. Then we run into the problem of her being terrible at the advice and comfort thing. I got used to it long ago. Yet when shit like this happens I could really use an experienced heart that is full of unconditional love.
I’m a billionaire, and I can’t even buy that.
Speaking of, don’t get me started on the presence of Hollywood starlet Stephanie. The only thing my father and I could talk about on the drive into town was Dominic Mathers waltzing in with not only a very young woman, but a woman his son had dated. I was hesitant to say that Ian and Stephanie had sex – so I heard through the grapevine, of course – but Dad eventually got it out of me. Once that tidbit hit his ears, he made a sour face that said Dominic thou
ght more with his dick than his head.
“Man is a terrific businessman. Terrible boyfriend and husband. Father, too, apparently.”
I could tell you how much I wanted to laugh but couldn’t, but you probably have a good idea as it is.
“Kathryn.”
Here, beneath my covers, I’m convinced that I don’t hear a thing. I especially do not hear a man’s voice. I don’t hear a man’s voice that has no business being in my apartment that is locked to the outside world. And it’s definitely not Ian, the man I want to see less than I want to get an infection.
Nevertheless, I lower my covers and see Ian standing in my bedroom doorway.
“How the hell did you get in here?”
“I caught your assistant on her way out. I, er, convinced her to let me in without announcement.”
“She’s fired.”
“Katie.”
I toss back the cover and thrash to the other side of my bed. I look like hell, wearing nothing more than a pair of cotton shorts and a loose T-shirt. My hair is a fucking mess. I haven’t brushed it since yesterday.
If I’m too grotesque for this world, Ian doesn’t let on.
“Don’t call me that,” I finally say. “The woman you call Katie isn’t here.”
He approaches my bed, dressed in his usual work clothes of crisp pants, a red tucked-in shirt, black and red striped tie, and heavy charcoal jacket that looks too warm for this summery weather. There’s a five-o-clock shadow covering his jaw, giving him a hint of a disheveled bad boy look in his otherwise pristine outfit.
I hate that I want him in my arms.
“Are you sure?” Ian puts down his briefcase. “I’m looking at her right now.”
Our eyes meet, mine bloodshot and covered in goop. The hazel of his eyes is particularly sharp today. It’s like everything I find physically attractive about him has come out in full force. The only way this could be worse is if he takes off his clothes and shows me the physique he works hard in the gym to achieve.
I wonder how fucking sexy he is bench pressing and jogging on a treadmill while reading a book or watching the news, sweat seeping through his clothes.
“You can’t flatter me,” I say. “You need to leave. I’ll call security downstairs.”
“I can’t leave until we talk through this.”
“What the fuck, Ian? I said everything I already have to say. You’re the one creepily breaking into people’s houses and acting like you’re entitled to something.”
“I don’t think I’m entitled to anything. I would, however, like to talk.” He gestures to the foot of my bed. “Can I sit?”
“Oh, you’re asking me for permission? It must be my birthday.”
Like the entitled bastard he is, Ian sits on my bed, his hand dangerously close to the crease where my feet are.
“I’m sorry, Kathryn.”
I let the silence simmer around us. All you can hear in my bedroom is the ticking of a wiry clock and the slight hum of the air conditioner. My soundproofed windows keep out the street noises, but I imagine there are cop cars, kids laughing, and adults yelling at one another. Birds chirping. Dogs barking.
Life.
In here, it’s two people awkwardly interacting.
“Sorry about what?” This should be good.
Ian rearranges himself so he’s facing me, his tie slapping against the bed and his shirt wrinkling to meet his poor posture. “I’m sorry about what happened yesterday at my house. That was rude of me to say, and not even how I really feel.”
Not how he really feels? Then why the hell did he say them? For fun? I wouldn’t put it past him. “You embarrassed me in front of our families.” Granted, I hadn’t improved the situation with my further comments, but I’m conveniently leaving that out. I was pushed to say them, after all.
“I want you to know something.”
He waits for me to reply. “What? Make it good. I have no patience and you’re about five seconds away from getting the official boot.”
You’d never guess I said those words to him just now. He’s too complacent. “When you walked away from me yesterday, I worried that I wouldn’t see you again. Funny, isn’t it? I know I’ll have to see you for work, even if we’re too pissed to work closely together. Yet I had it in my head that you were going to become some enigma from my past. The kind of woman who haunts me when I’m trying to sleep.”
I can’t help but roll my eyes. Where did he learn this speech? Some how-to site? “Also the woman whose name you call during sex. Even if you’re not fucking her at the time.”
“That too.”
I settle into my pillow, staring at him through clouding eyes. If you walked into this room, you’d think I was the type of Sleeping Beauty who slept with her eyes open. Open and without any makeup. Shit, does that make Ian the Prince Charming come to wake me up from my slumber? Anything but, please.
I’d rather be awake for that.
“This is hard for me to say, let alone articulate…” Ian’s hand creeps dangerously close to my feet beneath the bed. “I like you. Very much.”
He’s kidding, right? “Like me. You like me.”
“Very much.”
“Boy, you weren’t kidding when you said you couldn’t articulate it well.”
“I’m serious, Katie. Don’t ask me to put better words to my feelings right now. Yet I definitely feel something for you. You’re more than a woman I casually hookup with. You’re even more than a friend. I’m not sure what you are. That’s the problem. I’ve never felt for someone what I feel for you, and that’s new for me. I need some time sorting it out.”
I sit up, the covers falling away from me. My back is hunched, my greasy hair falling into my lap, and my makeup-less face sending rockets into this man’s skull.
“You need time. You. Need. Time.”
“Have I misinterpreted something? I was under no impression that we were on some specific timeline when it comes to our relationship. Besides training you, anyway.”
He’s already bringing that up. Either this man is a terrible liar, or he’s terrible at understanding me. Probably both. “No, we weren’t on any timeline. We were doing whatever felt fun. Yeah, I had a lot of fun with you.” I have to look away before his charisma breaks me. “Maybe too much fun. Like I told you, I’m getting in over my head. You’re an easy man to fall in love with, Ian Mathers, and I don’t want to fight you anymore.”
No surprise that he takes my hand, eyes staying locked on mine. “Then don’t fight me.”
“Don’t you get it? You’re one of the last men I should fall in love with. Where would a real relationship with you go? I don’t want to be your full-time sub.”
“I don’t want a full-time sub. Not from you or anyone else. That’s sex, not a lifestyle.”
“Even so, I can’t do that even half the time. It takes a lot out of me and asks me to look at who I really am. Meanwhile, you keep doing your own thing like whatever.”
“Katie… if this is about you Topping, I… really don’t care if you take out your urges on other men. Just casual, of course. Maybe if I’m there.”
All these stipulations. I could die from dizziness. “That’s not going to work for me. I’m a Domme. I don’t want some man looking over my shoulder and seeing what I do. For fuck’s sake, Ian, we would be miserable after a year. It wouldn’t work. We’d be forced to break up like your parents before we could even talk about marriage.”
My God, I just said the M word.
Ian doesn’t flinch. “I think you’ve misunderstood me,” he says, steadily. “We don’t have to go from what we had to an engagement party. There are places in-between. Like… agreeing to be exclusive while we test the waters out some more.”
“Why would you even want to bother with that? Do you want to waste your time when you could be looking for someone more suitable to your needs?”
“Did you not hear what I said?” Ian leans forward, fac
e coming closer to mine. I resist flinging myself into his embrace now that I can smell his cologne so strongly. His comfortable cologne that makes me think of gentle nights in his bed, his body wrapped around mine and his lips teasing every inch of my skin. “I just told you that you make me feel things that no other woman has in my thirty years. Why wouldn’t I want to follow that and see where it goes?”
“Because,” I take his hand in mine, “I won’t be the last woman making you feel that way.”
His gaze is unwavering. Intensifying, but he’s not going to look away anytime soon. “Why do you think so little of yourself?”
“Excuse me?”
The mood has changed. We’ve gone from Ian groveling for my attention to him looking as if he’d rather spit on my floor. I’ve never seen such disgust on his face. Disgust for me? No, Kathryn, don’t let him see how uncomfortable you are. It was one thing when he walked in here unannounced, it’s another for him throw you off guard in this way.
“You put up this façade that tells the world you’re a hard bitch who doesn’t take shit from anyone, personally or professionally. I get it. You need that façade because so many people have told you that you’re still nothing, even born into your father’s family. When that façade comes away, though? You’re so insecure that I almost pity you. Almost. I know you have the strength to overcome whatever is holding you back.”
“What am I trying to achieve, huh?” I snatch my hand away from his.
“You need to let go. You can’t live the rest of your life trying to live up to some standard day-in and day-out. You’re going to burn in flames before you hit forty. Maybe sooner. I don’t want to see that happen. I want to give you at least one escape in your life where you can let go of all control in a safe environment with someone who fucking loves you.”
Tears threaten to burst from my eyes, but I hold them in…. because this arrogant bastard is not going to see me cry over this. He’s not going to see me remember every time I wished I could run to my father and have him fix all my problems in my stead. He’s not going to witness me come undone because a man tried to make me get his coffee even though I’m a project leader or even in charge of a whole company one day. I refuse to let Ian Mathers, the bane of my existence and quite possibly the love of my life, see me at my weakest like that.