Текст книги "Save Us"
Автор книги: Cynthia Dane
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Текущая страница: 14 (всего у книги 16 страниц)
I kiss him again. This time I’m the one mauling his lips and scratching his bare skin.
It’s not until I see someone out of the corner of my eye that I pull away from Ian and smile at our voyeur.
“Like what you saw?” I ask Eva’s date, who is much more petite now that she’s not on the second floor. She looks to have come from the women’s room, and I don’t doubt she decided to stop and watch the show. “Tell your date all about it. For me.”
The young woman raises an eyebrow before scooting off.
“And tell her to fuck you half as good tonight!”
“Now, now,” Ian gently reprimands, pushing me against the wall again. “No need to be so intense… with anyone other than me.”
“I’ll be intense with whomever I please, sir.” The closer I feel to him, the more I want to test his patience. Especially in private.
“I’ll hold you that, my darling.”
He kisses me. The rest of the night is a blur I hope to never wake up from.
Chapter 30
IAN
“Sit still,” Kathryn says, scraping my razor up the side of my face. “I don’t want to cut you and watch you bleed all over my sink.
I’m trying to wash my hands without getting my rolled up sleeves too wet. This is what I get for telling her I don’t plan on shaving for another two days. I will have you know that Kathryn Alison is perfectly fine with my stubble when it’s rubbing against her pussy, but for some reason it’s not okay for watching a movie.
Honestly, I think she gets off on shaving me.
“I cut myself all the time. What’s the difference if you do it?”
Kathryn puts the razor down and wipes cream off my face with a white hand towel. “The difference is that this is my sink and I don’t want your DNA all over it. What’s going to happen if you turn up dead and the police see how much blood of yours is in my bathroom? Boom. I’m in prison.”
“You’re loaded. You can afford a good lawyer.” I shrug, taking the towel from her hand so I can finish up in her stead. She rolls her eyes and grabs the aftershave I keep here. Haha. I keep aftershave here. If you’re a man, then you know how serious that makes our relationship. I’ve got her tampons in my bathroom and I’ve got aftershave here. We’re practically married.
And my cat has a plethora of new toys whenever she sneaks into my bathroom and opens that cupboard. You ever seen a cat stalk around your house with a tampon in its mouth? It’s a trip.
“Besides,” I continue, as Kathryn smacks my face with aftershave, “I hear some good shit happens in those women’s prisons. Good lesbian shit.”
“You think I could run some BDSM ring in there?” Kathryn puts the aftershave away and picks up a hairbrush. She tackles her scalp with more force than I give her ass when I spank it. Ouch. “I could be the Monica Graham of the state pen. Get me some girls, some patrons who pay in cigarettes, and watch the cash roll in. As cigarettes, of course.”
“Of course.”
Kathryn pulls a wad of blond hair from her brush before tossing it aside. Tonight she’s wearing a white one-piece that sparkles in the soft lights of the bathroom. We’ve come back from dinner, her treat. I plan on treating her to something else later.
We give and take, Kathryn and I.
It’s been over a week since her debut in The Dark Hour. Since then, I’ve become the envy of every Dom I know – take that, Henry Warren – and she’s not seen a blip in her social life. Although she keeps mumbling something about someone named Dawn Lovett, whoever she is.
Things are going well. Kathryn and I have found balance in our relationship. She continues to submit to me on a semi-regular basis, sometimes planned in advance, and oftentimes as a byproduct of the mood we’re in. I’ve learned to give up control as well. Like letting her pay for dinner without raising a fuss. Hey, I can get used to free food.
She’s talking about me getting a tattoo on my shoulder, though. Something like “Property of Kathryn Alison,” and, uh, we’re going to have a long talk about that. I know how this works. You get a tattoo with your girlfriend’s name on it, and the next thing you know you’re getting an artist to somehow turn it into your mom’s name.
Oh, speaking of, my mom and dad are back together for the time being. Don’t get too excited. This is like the third time since the divorce. Kathryn and I have a friendly bet on who will cheat first. Although last I heard from the Queen of TMI, the older Mathers are shopping around the Château for a mistress like the Andrews have. Ew. I’m never going back there again.
“Once we have some time tomorrow,” Kathryn begins, flicking the hand towel against my shoulder, “we need to talk hotel business. My dad’s gonna jump all over my ass the moment the council approves the museum, and I need your input.”
“Oh, no, we’ll be working together even still!” Business is going well. We still get a few protestors, but most of them have shrugged and given up. Doesn’t help that half of them came in looking for a job. “Mayhap we shall find new places to copulate, Ms. Alison.”
“Why, Mr. Mathers,” she says, putting on a fake Southern Belle accent. With her dress and hair, I almost believe it. “If I didn’t know any better, I would think you’re trying to compromise me.”
“Darling, you’ve been compromised every which way to Sunday by now. I don’t think you’ve got an orifice left for me to penetrate for the first time.”
“Not true. I’ve got a left ear.”
“When did I fuck the right one?”
“That one time I blew you and popped off your dick too late. Remember? Almost had a There’s Something About Mary moment.”
“I said penetrate, not get cum in.”
“Who said we can’t pursue both? You’ve got some holes I could fill yet.”
My ass clenches. Yeah, I don’t think so. I will do a lot of things for Kathryn, but pegging is about as appealing as bathing in liquid lava. Actually, I’d take the lava. I don’t care how good prostate stimulation is supposed to feel. No. No.
Okay, okay. Maybe one day. On her birthday. Ten years from now. Ask me about it then. Actually, don’t ask. I’m gonna conveniently forget riiiight… now.
“Anyway, when you’re not thinking about ejaculating into my ear, how about we go start the movie? Think I’ll slip into something more comfortable.”
“And this isn’t comfortable?” I brush my hand against her dress. “Because I could take it off for you.”
We haven’t had sex yet today. Of any kind. I know! Our game is losing ground. Pretty soon we’ll be looking for a mistress too to keep the spark alive.
Heaven help us.
“As helpful as that would be,” Kathryn says, shrugging me off her. “I was thinking more along the lines of a T-shirt and some pajamas bottoms.” She pats my arm. “You can stay dressed like this, though. Looks good on you.”
“Oh, sure, make me stay in the itchy clothes.”
“The more you wear scratchy clothes, the more likely I am to take them off you and suck your dick during the boring parts of the movie.”
“Why would we watch a movie with boring parts?”
She glares at me, that hint of a Domme gleaming in her eyes. “So I can suck your dick, dumbass.”
“Oh. Better pick a real snore then.” I follow her out of the bathroom. “If it’s really boring you might get a turn on the couch too.”
Kathryn opens a dresser drawer and gestures for me to unzip her dress. My pleasure. “There won’t be enough time. I’m ringing you up and blowing you for like forty-five minutes.”
That sounds… painful. “Ringing me up, huh?” I slowly lower her zipper as she picks out a cute white T-shirt. She better not wear a bra beneath that. I wanna flick her nipples while we watch this long and boring background-noise-to-sex movie. “Is that what you Dommes are calling it these days?”
“Absolutely. I’ve got you a brand new one. It’s got ridges.”
“Oh, Lord.” I don’t know if I’m intrigued or scared.
Just as Kathryn is about to shimmy out of her dress, her doorbell rings.
“Mother fucker,” she mumbles, smacking my hand until I zip her back up with a sigh. “This is what I get for taking my ban off visitors. I did that for you, you know.”
“You could’ve okayed your assistant and me.”
“It gets complicated then.” Kathryn fluffs her hair and smoothes out her dress. “Keep your dick in your pants while I deal with this.”
“What would I be doing with my dick without you?”
She steps into the maw of her apartment. “I dunno. Playing with yourself. Shit guys do.”
“You know, what would this world be like if we made the same observations about women?” I don’t care that she’s shushing me so she can answer her door. “‘Put your pussy away, Kathryn, we’re in church.’”
Yeah, that’s the last thing any of us hear the moment she opens the door.
I wish I had kept talking.
Because fuck who is caught pounding on the door and then spilling into Kathryn’s apartment, teeth bare and ready to fucking bite.
“Oh hell no!” Kathryn latches onto Stephanie’s arm and attempts to drag her back into the hall. “Get the fuck out of here!”
I intervene, but only because Stephanie looks like she’s out for blood and about to claw out Kathryn’s eyes. Which would be a shame, because my Katie has the most gorgeous eyes you’ve ever seen.
Next thing I know, Stephanie May breaks free from our hold and lands most unceremoniously in the middle of Kathryn’s living room floor. As I’m about to kneel down and fetch her, all the while telling Kathryn to call security, I get… a wad of spit in my face.
Classy.
“Fuck you, Kathryn Alison!” Stephanie struggles to get back up. “I don’t know how you found out about me, but fuck you.”
I raise my hand. “That was my mother. You stole her ex-husband. She was pretty pissed.”
“I don’t care who it was!” Has she been drinking? Either that or crying a fuckton. Probably both. She’s lost a lot, recently. “It’s because of her that my career is ruined and I’ll never get work again.”
“Uh, no, pretty sure that has to do with you being a shitty mother and a big fat liar.” I watch Kathryn shut the door with a look of “Why do we have to do this?” on her face. “I mean, really? Lying about your age by a whole ten years?”
“What’s wrong, Ian?” Stephanie stumbles where she stands. “Pissed that I’m actually older than you?”
“Nah, but you lied about it. You had to have known there was no way you would keep that… wait, how is this Kathryn’s fault?”
Stephanie cackles. And I mean cackles. Like, has this woman been appearing in movies as witches and banshees when I wasn’t looking? When we dated, Stephanie was poised, flirty, and fun. I wouldn’t have dated her otherwise. Is this how she really is? Is this the bullet I dodged when I shouted Kathryn’s name while dick-deep in this other woman? Wow. What a fateful night.
I apparently owe Kathryn a lot.
“You mean she hasn’t told you?” Kathryn steps forward, but Stephanie continues. “Your slutty girlfriend has been paying me off to keep my mouth shut. Until she wasn’t paying me anymore. Then I had to let the tiger loose, if you know what I mean.”
I look at Katie, but one thing sticks out to me. “It was you who leaked us to the press?”
“I had to! I told Blondie that if I didn’t keep getting my money, I would tattle on her kinky lifestyle. Though I’ve heard you’ve done that on your own recently.” Stephanie continues to laugh, a little maniacally, a lot of levels of weird. “You two really deserve each other.”
“Me? What did I do?”
“Really?” When Stephanie narrows her eyes at you, it’s almost as scary as when Kathryn does it. “You think it’s not uncouth to say the wrong woman’s name during sex?”
“You’re still hung up on that, huh? Sorry. Turns out my heart only beats for Dommes around here. Don’t think you fit that bill. You’re too naturally submissive.”
“Don’t categorize me you piece of shit!”
Well, fucking, well.
I’ve had a hunch recently that Stephanie is a bit… unwell. Maybe not unwell. I don’t want to make it sound like such people are bad and terrible, but there is definitely something going on in Stephanie’s head. Otherwise there’s no way to explain her lying about being ten years younger, abandoning her child, and sucking every man around her dry.
I’d feel bad for her, especially since her promising career is tanking, but she’s been hurting the people I love. For that, I can’t forgive her. Or pity her.
“I’ll categorize you as much as I want, Stephanie.” I approach her, cautiously, because we all know you don’t go running up to a bear going HEY HEY HEY HEY HEY. I may be bigger than her, but she’s the one on the defensive. “It’s my job to categorize people. I do it in my professional life and my personal life. And you? You’re what we would call a bratty sub. When you’re not pleasing your man to manipulate him and get your way – which, by the way, makes for a super shitty BDSM relationship, not that you care – you’re acting like a brat until a man has to take matters into his own hands and force you to obey.”
“That’s sick,” Stephanie spits. “I knew you were a sick pervert, but I didn’t know you were a rapist too.”
Whoa boy, that is some serious fucking tension in this room.
“You misunderstand me. The sub wants to be controlled and put in her place. That’s what she gets off on and what appeals to her side of kink. It’s all consensual with safe words and extensive conversation beforehand.”
Kathryn’s hand snakes over my shoulder. She leans against me, smiling deviously. “What do you think, Ian? This pain in our ass is definitely the bratty kind of sub. Assuming, of course, she’s into that.”
“I am not.” Stephanie is vehement, but I see the tell in her face. A blip of uncertainty. A flash of… consideration. Eyes glazing over in fantasy. Ha. Ha.
“That’s funny,” I say, putting my hand on Kathryn’s. “Those two dates of ours seemed kinky. If I hadn’t been so eager to fuck you that night, what would you have done for me?”
“I think it’s obvious. I blew you in front of all those people.”
“You sure did, honey,” Kathryn says. “It was pretty hot.”
“You… you saw…”
“I saw and continue to see everything.” A well-manicured nail points to Stephanie’s chest. “Like those. You getting horny hanging out with us?”
Stephanie’s nipples are saying hello in more ways than one. Mostly by poking through the bodice of her black dress. Ah, I remember what those breasts looked like. Obviously, Kathryn’s are more supple and delightful to gaze at and squeeze. Yet Stephanie’s were great too. When I was dating her, I remember not being able to wait to have a lot of fun with them – okay, and her too.
Things change, don’t they?
“I am not. Is everything about sex with you two?”
Kathryn and I exchange glances. My beautifully kinky Katie steps away from me, her ass sashaying in the belly of her living room as she extends a hand and caresses Stephanie’s flinching face.
“Yes,” she purrs. “It is. And we would like to fuck your unworthy cunt.”
Chapter 31
KATHRYN
Seriously, fuck this asshole.
Literally. And figuratively.
She’s looking into my sensual poker face, the same one I’ve used on a million male subs over the years. I see it in her eyes. She’s curious. Scared as a man’s balls around steel-toed boots, but intrigued.
“Cunt?” She nearly spits on my carpet. “Thought you and your ilk were supposed to call yourselves feminists. How dare you call me that slur.”
I cross my arms. “I didn’t call you a cunt, honey.” The smile I unleash on her is enough to make Ian shake in his shoes, let alone this piece of work. “I called what’s between your legs a cunt. Nothing wrong with calling it what it is. Now if I had called you a cunt, then that would be different.” I look over my shoulder. “Right, Ian?”
“I’m not even getting involved in that discussion. Bring it up with my mother. You know, the woman who hired the PI following you around, Stephanie.”
This is getting good.
I brush my fingers against Stephanie’s bare arm. In truth, I wouldn’t say I’m sexually attracted to this woman personally. My name isn’t Eva Warren. Though I am attracted to this situation at hand. A bratty sub here to try to have her way with me and my Dom partner? Goodness. Someone get me a fan and a glass of ice water.
I haven’t had a bratty sub in forever. They were men, anyway, which is a different ballgame.
A woman would be completely different. Ian jokes about me being a brat when we’re having a scene. Of course, he doesn’t say that I’m a brat, per se. More like insolent. A more sophisticated word for a more sophisticated woman.
So, Stephanie is a brat.
“You two are unbelievable…” She keeps saying that, but I’ve noticed she hasn’t moved. I mostly told her that to give her the shakes and get her out of my home. I don’t want to see her face or ass again, not even on my TV – although it sounds like Caroline took care of that. “I can’t believe this is happening. Wait until the press hears about this…”
“The press doesn’t give a fuck, sweetie. We’re rich as hell. We’re powerful. My social circles already know I’ll get down on my knees and suck Ian’s cock at any notice. Who cares? What are you going to do?” I step closer, our bodies too close for either of our comfort. “What I want to know is… how do I get rid of you forever?”
Stephanie crosses every limb possible and wrinkles her nose at me. “Come again?”
“You know what I fucking mean. How do I get you away from me for the rest of my life? How do I get you to leave me alone? Do you want money?” Fine.” I let my teeth scrape my lips on that word. “I’ll give you a million fucking dollars to get away from me forever. To get away from every person on this planet with the last name Alison or Mathers. I dropped fifteen million on The Grand to clean up one of your boyfriend’s finance messes. I can afford another million. Consider it my generous donation to you trying to get your life back together.”
Stephanie opens her mouth.
“Do you want business connections? I know a couple Hollywood people. A couple Broadway entrepreneurs. They might take pity on you if I put in a good word. Or maybe you want a comfy place to live. I’ll get you a house in some nowhere fuck all town. Hey, I’ll even pitch in a few extra dollars for you to get your kid back, if he even knows who the hell you are.”
I thought that would strike a nerve, but Stephanie is snorting as if it means nothing to her. “What would you know? You’ve got everything you ever wanted, rich fucking princess you are. You even got the guy.”
“I was an idiot,” Ian admits. “She got me twelve years ago. I was too dumb to see it. So, sorry Stephanie, if you think about it, I was cheating on Kathryn when I was with you. I simply didn’t know it.”
Aw, that was almost sweet!
“Or maybe you want something else.” I look her up and down, grinning, watching the way her knees buckle every time I use this tone of voice on her. “There’s a reason you got so pissed at Ian. If this were about the name thing, you would be over it by now. Not this vindictive. No, you clearly feel like you’re missing out on something else. What was it, Stephanie?” I’m uncomfortably close to her, my breath hitting her skin, warming her, making her shudder beneath my shadow. “Did you like the taste you got from him? Did you like the way he pushed you against that wall and came inside you? Because I know how good that feels too.”
Her lips curl into a sneer, but she doesn’t say anything.
“You wanted him to dominate you. You wanted to go deeper into the lifestyle with him. I’m sorry you didn’t have that chance, but you need to let it go. Unless…” I raise my eyebrows, inspecting her body, hilariously similar to mine. Never let it be said that Ian Mathers doesn’t have a type, and not just blond. “What you really want from us is more of that domination.”
“What do you mean us?”
“Oh, you poor child.” Her skin is hot with fever as I stroke her cheek with my knuckles. “You don’t get him without me. We’re a couple. We do everything together… we’re obnoxious like that.”
I don’t look over my shoulder to see how Ian’s reacting. I know damn well how he’s reacting. It’s called a hard-on and a drooling mouth. I remember how he acted at the Château. He about died watching me dominate a more than willing sub, let alone a bratty one.
To this very moment I maintain I’m not gay. I mean, I am far, far from gay. Maybe deep inside, if I thought long and hard about it, I’m bisexual. I don’t mind the idea of a woman being sexy for me once in a while. In my kinky lifestyle, it’s going to happen. Those opportunities, that is. But I am much too happy with my relationship with men – let alone my man – to ever think too hard about it. Yet I don’t feel disgusted when I take Stephanie and draw her into a kiss.
All three of us die. Stephanie, because she wasn’t expecting it. Me, because I didn’t think she would be so soft and malleable. Ian, because ahahaha do I have to tell you why? He probably thinks it’s his fucking birthday up in here.
Well, now I know what to get the man who has everything for his birthday.
When I push her away from me, Stephanie stumbles backward, landing on my couch and sliding down to the floor. It’s ridiculous how she moves, as if she’s a ragdoll punched in the gut. I don’t move. Ian doesn’t say a thing, although he’s suppressing one of his dumb, arrogant grins.
Stephanie wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. I go to my purse and pull out my checkbook.
“How much do you fucking want?”
She no longer has ferocity in her eyes. At first I’m not sure what it is. Then I garner – it’s probably lust. Stephanie May is an easy woman to figure out. I was right when I pinned her real beef with Ian was that he teased her with hot domination and then kicked her to the curb. For me, no less. I’m not going to apologize for that. She could have gone back to The Dark Hour and found her a new Dom instead of being a vindictive jerk. She can be happy with some money, like any good red-blooded American.
“How about $200,000?” I write out a check to her. “That would be like if you kept blackmailing me for four more months. Should be enough to get you back on your feet, wherever you go. Pay off some Hollywood producer to put you in an indie movie that makes people like you again. Assuming, of course, you can actually act.” I laugh as I hold the check over her head.
“Nah, Katie,” Ian says behind me. “She’ll want more than that. She’s the type of woman who can’t be fed on mere money alone.”
“You’re right.” I snatch the check back before Stephanie can grab it. “She wants other kinds of fulfillment, not just money.” To her horror, I rip the check in half, letting the pieces sprinkle on top of her. Her cheeks flush pink. Her nipples keep hardening. This is too easy.
The more I realize she’s getting turned on by my attitude, the more I imagine her being batted around like a cat toy between Ian and me.
“What is it?” I kneel down next to her. The Stephanie who stormed into my apartment would have lashed out. Maybe slapped me. Now she’s merely looking away, drawing her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. “Is this turning you on, Stephanie?”
“No.”
“Are you sure? Because I think you’re thinking about Ian fucking you, and me slapping these tits around.”
I give her a taste of that. Not the fucking or tit slapping, but a pinch to her arm that says, “You’re my sub and you will obey me.”
Stephanie bites her lip and lets out the unmistakable whine of a sexually frustrated sub.
She’s probably got a lot of demons inside her. How can she not, when she’s done what she has to achieve her dream of being a starlet? I don’t even doubt she’s done things that disgust her, both sexually and emotionally. I’ve heard the horror stories. Of course, I’m not going to bring those up. That would be tasteless and do nothing but fuel my own sense of vengeance against this woman. I’m not like that.
I am, however, sympathetic, especially since I know what it’s like to keep a million confessions bottled up inside.
I take my phone out of my purse and send off a curt text message. Ian’s watching me, but doesn’t say anything. The response I get is exactly what I wanted.
We’ve got half an hour.
