Dom Vs: Domme: The Deluxe Trilogy: A Billionaire Romance (Dom Vs. Domme Book 0) (47 page)

I know what he means. He’s looking at me, after all.

“Ever been here before, Mathers?”

Kathryn looks at me. I know she won’t give a rat’s two-timing ass if I say yes. Most Doms in our circles have been here at least once. Dommes, on the other hand? They don’t bother.

“A few times.” I sip my drink, although Ken continues to stare at me, as if he knows something I don’t. “Those times were a bit busier than tonight.”

“It’s traditionally a slow night, we’re afraid. That means more attention for us.” Lana smiles at Kathryn, who is still staring at the pillows and trying to remember where the fuck she is. “That reminds me, sweet, where are your friends?”

Grace puts a hand on Lana’s shoulder – who taught who that move? “They should be along shortly. They were helping with something downstairs.”

Before any of us can say anything, the door opens and admits two more feminine beauties dressed to impress their clients.

I frown. Not because I don’t like them, but because there’s the one I slept with the last time I was here.

Me and who knows how many other men in my social circles. We don’t think about that, however. A woman’s gotta work.

“Evening, everyone! Heard the party was in here.” The tall stranger with strawberry blond hair drapes herself across the back of Kathryn and mine’s couch, her experienced eyelashes batting at the both of us. Behind her, the other girl slinks along, refilling glasses and taking her perch in an empty chair between the couches. “To whom do we owe these immense pleasures?”

“These are Mr. Ian Mathers and Ms. Kathryn Alison,” Lana introduces, her wineglass half empty in her hand. “We closed a big deal with them today and are here to celebrate.”

“Ooh, celebrations!” The woman whose breath is going down the back of my neck is smiling. A bit too much. Too flirtatious. If there is such as thing. “Hey, Chelsea, pour these festive people some more drinks. They’re celebrating.”

I exchange a look with the pale blonde Chelsea. She flashes me a familiar smile. Yes, she remembers me.

She’s probably here because we had a good time and wants more of this. And my money.

I tipped her well, all right?

“Call me Judith,” says the chatty one. She extends her hand to both Kathryn and me. She has a firm handshake. “When I heard the lovely Andrews had invited some of their friends up here, I knew I had to stop by and say hello.” That’s code for “I have no other work tonight, so let me try to score here.”

More drinks are poured. The Andrews are comfortably laughing. Kathryn shuffles toward me on the couch, and I don’t think she realizes it. Either way, her hip is now touching mine, and I can smell the perfume in her hair.

Fuck me, I’m getting hard.

Can you blame me? This room is full of pretty women. Not just Kathryn, but Judith, Grace, and Chelsea are all handpicked beauties. Even Lana Andrews is stunning tonight in a body-hugging red dress she kept hidden beneath a black jacket during business today. She’s a master of knowing how to dress up and dress down an outfit.

Five beautiful women. Five sources of frustration, because they are all so very sexual creatures.

Especially Kathryn, who is comfortably next to me, even if she doesn’t realize it.

You don’t understand how much I want to wrap an arm around her and relax into this couch with our drinks. I want to laugh with her, talk about absolutely nothing, and get relaxed enough on alcohol to start romantically touching one another in this hazy atmosphere.

I want to do that, but I don’t know how.

See, Kathryn and I don’t have an established public relationship. Lots of people have guessed there’s something going on between us – like the Andrews – but that doesn’t mean we’re ready to be seen as a romantic pair. As far as the Andrews are concerned, Kathryn and I hookup sometimes. There’s nothing else going on outside of the bedroom.

For all I know Kathryn thinks the same way. So, the last thing I want to do is make her uncomfortable by throwing my arm around her or touching her knee in an intimate way. Point really stands when I look at how out of her element she is.

I guess it has to do with all the women, and as far as I can tell, my dear Katie has no interest in women like that.

Too bad.

We’re joined by one last person tonight. Someone I wasn’t really expecting, until Monica Graham helps herself into the lounge wearing a little black dress and ruby jewels in her hair.

I had heard through the grapevine that she still spends most of her weekends here to oversee her business. Which is funny, because a woman as submissive as her isn’t someone you’d peg as a businesswoman. I glance at Kathryn and wonder if she would ever be like that.

Before Monica can spare some words for us, she catches the look I give Kathryn. I don’t like the tiny smile on her face.

Shit.

Shit, shit.

I should have guessed that a woman in her position would have the eyes of a cat. The kind of cat that sees every little detail and knows how to work it to her advantage. She calls Judith and Chelsea over so she can whisper something into their ears. There is nothing subtle in the way they both look at us.

Cute.

Now it’s my turn to lean in toward someone’s ear. Namely, Kathryn’s. “We’re being targeted.” I try to keep my tone wistful.

Kathryn glances at the trio of conspiring women and then at me. “What do you mean? They want to…?”

“They’re businesswomen, and we’re taking up their time. They’re going to try to get into our wallets, darling.”

It’s the first time I’ve called her that in front of other people, although I don’t think anyone has heard.

“Both of us? At the same time?”

There’s only one way to find out. I swing my arm around Kathryn’s shoulders and bring her in for a kiss.

Chapter 18

KATHRYN

What the fuck, Ian!

He’s pushing me into the couch, kissing me, my hand instinctively touching his face as I accept his tongue deep in my mouth.

I don’t realize the implications of what he’s done until he breaks away, settling back into the couch as if he hasn’t done a damned thing.

Now everyone is looking at us. Nobody is shocked, but they are definitely interested in seeing if we continue.

I kind of forgot where we are.

Once my senses return to me, I smack Ian on the leg. “Excuse me, Mr. Mathers.”

A beat passes. Laughter erupts in the room. Ken raises his glass and says, “Cheers,” before gulping the rest of his drink. Grace the mistress falls deeper into his lap and whispers something into his ear. Lana is staring at the girl’s ass.

Behind me, a woman named Judith says that she likes my dress. Another named Chelsea says that she had wondered when she would see Ian again.

See Ian…

Again…

I’m frozen with the unfamiliar sensation of jealousy. I see the way he and this Chelsea woman look at one another. It’s a look of, “Oh, yeah, I fucked you before!”

Except money was involved with these two.

And BDSM.

You know, it’s one thing to know this theoretically. It’s another to see it for yourself.

I shouldn’t be jealous. I have no grounds to be jealous. After all, I wouldn’t be happy if one of my old flames came up and Ian got all alpha male terror on the guy. So, I have no business looking at this Chelsea woman as if she should
back the fuck off.

Then I think about how Ian kissed me in front of these people.

Now they all know we’re a “thing.”

“I’ve been doing well, thank you,” Ian says to Chelsea, his arm still wrapped around me. Possessively.
This is my woman and I want to make sure you know it.
I’m not even wearing my collar. I don’t have it. Ian kept it.

This is too overwhelming. I can’t relax.

I need more alcohol.

Luckily, there is plenty of alcohol here. Every time one glass empties, another fills up, and it’s like I have all the time in the world to use the powers of alcohol to feel more comfortable with the fact that Ian has his hands all over me in front of these people. Some of them total strangers. Some of them work colleagues.

When he’s decided Chelsea has asked him enough questions, he kisses me again, pushing me into the back of the couch with his whisky laden breath overpowering me.

My hand brushes against his crotch. Color me surprised. The guy is getting hard.

I wish he would keep kissing me. Those moments are the only times I feel comfortable here. That is until I get another glass in me and I realize that nobody is paying attention to us.

It’s a party in this small lounge. Lana and Ken are tipsy and flirty, their fingers all over each other, all over Grace, their sexuality oozing like a contagious disease if anyone so much as looks at them - like me. Judith and Chelsea are flirting with anyone who will pay attention to them, and I learn that they’re here to make the party better – and because they have no appointments or clients tonight, so they’re trying to score money elsewhere. Monica is here because the Andrews are two of her biggest investors. Not to mention how much money Ian and I carry together. She picks the gatherings she crashes carefully.

It’s a good thing this place deals in discretion, because Ian just rubbed the inside of my thigh and whispered something so dirty in my ear.

“I want you, Kathryn.”

I know that growl in his voice. It’s the one that makes my insides shiver. Makes my heart beat faster. Makes me want to melt in his arms and turn into nothing but a sexual creature – like how these other girls are acting in here.

My hand curls around the lapel of his jacket. “I want you too.”

This time our kiss is so mutually consuming that we get some whistles and a click of the tongue from Lana Andrews.

“That’s not a kiss, dears,” she says, taking Grace by the arm. “
This
is.”

My brows nearly shoot off my face as Lana plants a big one on the young woman’s lips. It’s apparently not a surprise to her, however, for she’s practically sinking into Lana’s embrace and acting like she’s never been kissed better in her life.

Lana is either that good, or she’s paying this girl enough money to act that way.

“I must concede that it’s quite the kiss,” Ian says, holding up his glass in mock toast. “I could never hope to lesbian kiss like that in my
life.
”

Everyone’s so tipsy – or acting tipsy to keep the party going – that we all laugh at the stupid joke. Of course, Ian, you silly! Of
course
you couldn’t lesbian kiss like that!
‘Cause you ain’t a woman!

I’m glad Eva isn’t here. She’d kill the mood really fast. Or upstage Lana Andrews. Probably by kissing her.

And then there would be an orgy!

I know I’m well passed tipsy with a thought like that. Even so, I snuggle against Ian’s chest and throw a leg over his lap, the hem of my skirt riding up until my ass is practically hanging out on the couch. Nobody mentions it.

Have you ever been in a room with a bunch of rich perverts? Who are trying to out-pervert each other? It’s only a matter of time before we’re swapping kink stories with everyone, from that time I kept a guy on edge for a total of two hours to Lana claiming she’d been in a gangbang back in college.

“I can still remember,” she says with a slight slur, blouse unbuttoned and tits nearly falling out of her bra. “Two uncut cocks and three cut!”

“I’m forever sad that I was not there,” Ken says.

“You know…” Judith joins them on their couch, hand lightly touching Lana on the chest. “There are other ways to recreate a night like that.” She looks around the room, grinning. “I see two men in here as it is.”

Ian tenses beneath my touch. I can practically hear his internal screaming.

“Two men and four women.” The woman she’s leaving out must be Monica, who has remained quiet in her chair this whole time. “That’s six instead of five. You know we have ways to make it feel like it’s all men.” Judith looks at the whole group with a wink.

“I have a better idea,” Ian says low enough for only me to hear. “Let’s get some privacy.”

The man is speaking my language. I’ve spent the past fifteen minutes thinking of nothing but putting my hand on his cock and getting him so hard he has no choice but to pin me down on this couch until we’ve both come a hundred times. Except, you know,
people.

“What would we do with privacy, Mr. Mathers?” My arms are not leaving this man’s torso. It’s taking everything I know to not kiss him again.

“Why, we would fuck, Ms. Alison.”

It’s at this time I must excuse myself to use the ladies’ room. I ask our dear hostess Monica where the privy can be found, and after she’s done pointing it out, Ian puts his hand on my wrist and brings me back in for more conspiracy.

“Pick one.” He gestures to the two freelancing women trying to get the Andrews to go with a fuckin’ gangbang. “We need to use one of their rooms, which means we need a key, which
means
I’ve gotta pay one of them for it. So, who do you want to get paid?”