Текст книги "Save Us"
Автор книги: Cynthia Dane
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Текущая страница: 6 (всего у книги 16 страниц)
Chapter 13
IAN
“Over here. No, look over here. Oh, come on…”
Cats. I swear to God.
I got a brand new phone today, and all I want to do is change the background to a picture of Saoirse, who is rolling around on the floor in a patch of sunlight. I’m kneeling on the carpet, aiming my phone camera this way and that in the hopes of catching her in the perfect pose.
It’s not happening.
“Mrrrrow.” Saoirse keeps rolling away, her tail swishing back and forth. She only looks back when I’m adjusting the settings on my camera.
Good job, Ian. Great way to spend a Sunday afternoon.
It can’t be helped. I’m still coming down from a high involving Kathryn Alison that lasted for three whole days. When she left me this morning, collar off and back in my nightstand, I felt like I was floating on the haughtiest cloud imaginable. Her number was the first one I imported to my new phone. Before my mother’s.
She said she loved me, okay. Kathryn. Not my mother. Wait, no, my mother loves me. I mean…
Never mind. You know what I meant.
So let’s get back to Kathryn. Sorry, Saoirse, you’re a cute cat, and I’m sure people would love giving this Dom a hard time for having a picture of his cat as his phone background, but let’s not forget that Kathryn said she loved me last night. Even though she was acting weird sometimes. I’m not sure she actually felt those nipple clamps, as pretty as they looked hanging down her torso.
I’ve had women tell me that they love me before. I rarely loved them back. Nothing personal. It’s… until Kathryn, I never found someone I felt worthy of my undying love.
She’s everything I want. Beautiful, smart, mouthy with a great sense of humor, good tastes, nice family (who possibly like me,) is liked by my family, a real go-getter with her own independence and ability to function without me, and… well, she’s turned into a greater sub than I could have ever hoped for.
I know there’s a catch somewhere. Until it’s sprung on me, however, I’m going to sit here and fantasize about her until I’m not allowed to anymore.
Like my doorbell ringing.
“Next time, cat.” I get up, setting my phone on my desk as the cat finally rolls toward me and purrs. I ignore her, like she ignored me for ten minutes.
There’s a skip in my step as I go to the door. A man in love is dangerous. He doesn’t see the bits of debris strewn across the floor and has a tendency to trip over them if he’s not careful. And he’s not.
Hence I only see a glimpse of blond out my peephole, and automatically assume it’s my darling little buttercup.
Yes, go ahead and kill me.
Oh, God, oh God please kill me.
Before Eva Warren does.
“What a lucky day for me! Finding the man cozy at home with his…” Eva glances from me to somewhere behind me. “His pussy, apparently.”
Saoirse meows emphatically before stalking off to her bed in the library.
“What do you want?”
I know she’s not here for business. And she sure as fuck isn’t here to shoot the breeze, because we are far from friends. Nevertheless, I have no choice but to invite her into my home, where she saunters around like she owns the damned place.
Naturally, she steps toward the kitchen, perching on one of the stools by the island counter.
“Consider me here on a fact-finding mission, Mr. Mathers.” She sounds like a reporter. A reporter that nobody takes seriously, which isn’t difficult to imagine, since her spiky blond hair clashes with her dark gray pantsuit. “Because there are a lot of facts I would like from you.”
I stand before her, hands in my pockets. I can hear my mother admonishing me for my bad manners in the back of mind… because what I need is my mother showing up and making this situation even worse.
“And what is it that you want to know, Ms. Warren?” I’m nowhere near as playful.
“Oh, well, I’m sure you can guess that this has to do with my good friend Kathryn, whom you are not only fucking, but apparently dominating as well!”
My hands pull from my pockets so my arms can cross. “She’s been talking to you, huh?”
“She only told me about the fucking a few weeks ago. I’ve deduced the latter, although she won’t confirm it. In fact, she won’t return most of my messages, so I can only assume that things are ugly. Am I right? Do let me know how angry I should be with you.”
I don’t know how she manages to not say, “And you wouldn’t like me when I’m angry.” At any rate, I can only meet her rueful gaze with a small smile.
“I shouldn’t be kissing and telling. If she’s not telling you, her good friend, something… then perhaps it isn’t any of your business.”
Of course, this isn’t going to fly with her. Eva is the type of woman who wants to be obeyed yesterday. On The Dark Hour grapevine, both from friends and subs I’ve hooked up with, Eva has a lot of fun taunting people and dragging them on silly sexual adventures. Why would her bantering with me be any different?
Although this bantering could quickly turn ugly. She’s also the type of woman to protect her friend if, for some reason, she thought there was a problem.
Eva Warren is the type of woman to always think there is a problem.
“She’s not telling me because she’s a proud woman who doesn’t want to admit she’s submitting to the likes of you.”
Well, we went straight to my jugular.
“I could understand her not wanting to admit that she’s submitting, but what the fuck is wrong with me?”
“Come off it, Mathers.” Eva slips off the stool, lording her height over me. Sheesh, these Warrens are ridiculous. Are their parents giants? “Everyone knows that you’re the type of Dom who flits from girl to girl looking for his kicks for the night, but rarely comes back for seconds. I’ve heard quite a few heartbroken girls rage about you at the club.”
“Before fucking them yourself, of course.”
“Not always. You ever hear of sexual preference? My greatest enemy.”
“I’m sure it is.”
“Look, Mathers, I’m sure you’re a decent guy. I’m sure you give a girl looking for it a good time. Why wouldn’t you?”
Where is this going…
“But you walked into a new playground when you set your sights on Kathryn. I don’t know what you’re doing to her, but it’s making her skittish and the most insecure I’ve ever seen her. I shouldn’t approach you two in a restaurant and watch her cower. She won’t tell me anything about you. I’ll have you know that Kathryn used to be one of the most formidable women I knew. What the fuck have you done to my friend?”
She’s speaking softly, but I feel her threats shaking in my veins… not that I show I’m feeling that. Not good to show weakness in front of Eva. Or any Warren, for that matter.
“I’ve done nothing she didn’t ask for.”
“Oh, Ian.” Her sigh is melodramatic, like the roll of her eyes and the swish of her hair. “You’re dominating a Domme. You’re forgetting that.”
“I’m not forgetting that.” I’m reminded every other day.
“Yes, you are. On the surface you know that Kathryn likes taking men for trips to Dominationville, but I’ve never gotten the feeling that she’s a switch. She’s been eating and drinking her role – as a woman, no less – for years. You can’t suddenly dominate her and not expect something to be going on…”
“Why are you talking to me about this? Shouldn’t you be talking to her?” My patience is wearing thin. If Eva doesn’t cut to the chase and leave on her own soon, I might have to throw her out. I’m not in the mood to play her games. Especially after waking up feeling like a fucking king in my own bed.
Eva tsks. “I would, if she would return my messages. So I’m coming to you before I go storm down her door. I figure, if something’s bothering her to the point she can’t tell me about it, something smells like you.”
Before I can erupt like a freakin’ child, I clear my throat and take a deep breath. My fingers grip my arms, madly. “I have no intention of hurting Kathryn. In fact…” I’m probably going to regret this. “We’re in love.”
A man’s home is supposed to be an escapist’s paradise. No awkward silences allowed. And yet here Eva and I are, staring each other down as she narrows her brows and acts as if she smells something foul.
She plucks a knife out of its holder, eyes it, looks at me, and then slams the knife back where it belongs.
Yeah, I get the point. Way to be a stereotype though, Eva.
“Do you love her? Because she hasn’t said fuckall about loving you.”
I keep my balance steady. My voice… well, it has its own issues. “I do. And she’s told me that she loves me. We’re working it out from there.”
Eva looks away, studying my flooring before glancing back at me. She no longer looks angry. She doesn’t even look concerned.
She looks… sad.
“Fuck her all you want, Mathers.” She steps away, staring at me over her shoulder. “Just don’t fuck with her. Don’t lead her on. Don’t tell her that you love her unless you really, truly mean it. Don’t. Don’t change who she is, don’t make her change at all, unless you’re absolutely, really, 100% sure that you want her for more than your tickled fancy lasts.”
My front door opens. The cat pokes her head out of the library.
“I don’t want to pick up the pieces of a broken woman who doesn’t know who she is anymore. Treat her well, or I’ll have to treat you quite unwell. By the way… thanks for the dress.”
She leaves.
Her caution stays behind.
Chapter 14
KATHRYN
One of the people at the top of my “probably should not go see” list is Caroline Grant-Mathers, and yet here I am, standing on the doorstep of her city townhouse.
A woman I don’t recognize answers the door. Her pressed, conservative black dress gives off the air of the one piece of help Caroline would keep employed. Yes, she’s a woman who would try to run a household all on her own to prove that she could, but she’s got her limitations like anyone else, and what woman of a certain age wouldn’t want to hire someone to take care of a medium-sized house worth millions of dollars?
That will probably be me someday.
“Could you please tell the mistress that…”
I’m interrupted before I can finish speaking to this sullen woman of about forty-five. Interrupted by a very unsullen woman of about fifty.
“Kathryn? Oh, let her in, Greta! And get her some tea!”
I’m swept up in greetings, kisses, and pats to my hand as I’m led to the parlor at the back of Caroline’s house. She has a chess board set up, halfway through a game with either herself or Greta, but thankfully she does not ask me to play. I’ve already turned down Ian enough times since I don’t care much for chess.
I sit in an antique chair that has been recently reupholstered, making it soft and luxurious. Caroline sits ninety-degrees to me, motioning to a tea set placed by Greta only five seconds before. “Please help yourself, dear. I recently got a shipment from Belgium. You wouldn’t think of Belgium when it comes to tea, but…”
“Not right now, thanks.”
Caroline is taken aback. “Oh, no, what have I done this time to make everyone so snippy?”
“Done?”
“Don’t suppose you’ve come here to put me in my place again.” Caroline smiles, but I can tell she’s still wounded by my previous words. Come to think of it, she hasn’t said a word about Ian and me in the weeks since that painful family lunch.
I shake my head. “You haven’t done anything. I’ve come here to get some advice.”
Her manicured eyebrows rise. “Business?” She leans in, even though Greta has long since left the room. “Or personal?”
I can’t meet her gaze without blushing. “Personal.”
“Oh, dear, I asked the wrong question. Ahem. What has my son done this time?”
I might as well rip off this Band-Aid. “Made me fall in love with him.”
Not sure what to expect, I brace myself. Caroline doesn’t squeal. She doesn’t huff. She doesn’t even change her expression, other than to play with the charm around her neck. I recognize such a thing. Seems provincial, although I’m sure the birthstone is genuine.
A diamond for April. Ian’s birth month.
“Pardon me for not getting excited this time around,” she says, looking at her pendant. It matches her scarlet one-piece and brunette up-do well. If she’s wearing makeup, I can’t tell. “I’m trying to contain my emotions regarding you two. Apparently that’s a good idea, because you don’t sound excited much yourself. Tell me everything.”
“That’s it… ‘everything’ is very… TMI.”
“Kathryn, honey…” She clears her throat. “I know about the domination and submission thing. It’s my fault, I suppose you could say, he first found out about it. Had some books one fateful day when he came home from school. Disappeared. Next thing I knew, Ian wanted to know if women really like it when men do that to them, because I’d spent his whole life trying to turn him into a genuine gentleman. Let me tell you, that’s hard to do in this world!”
I don’t know if she means our high society, or the world in general. It doesn’t matter. “I think you raised him the best you could. He’s…”
“A sheltered boy. Trust me, I know.”
“In more ways than one.”
Caroline is quiet as she pours herself tea, offers me a cup one last time, and shrugs when I decline. I don’t want to drink any liquids. I may be a bit parched, but I’m so anxious that any drop of liquid will send me to the bathroom twenty times in an hour.
“Now that we’ve established that… go ahead and tell me. You wouldn’t have come here if you didn’t want my advice on the whole tale.”
I don’t know where to begin, and I tell her as much.
“Start wherever it’s most natural.”
You know where is most natural?
Twelve years ago.
There’s nothing pleasant about telling Caroline my history with her son. She doesn’t want to know that we hooked up in high school, let alone that Ian lost his ability to keep going so soon into the deed. When I tell her this, she hides her face in her hand and sighs dramatically, as if to say, “He got that from his father.”
I fast forward to months ago, when Ian and I were thrown together in The Grand project. The sparks. The dislike. The taunting.
The sex.
The more sex.
The bet.
The… time I went to his house and let him dominate me, a Domme.
The fact that I liked it.
That I wanted more.
That I barely know what’s going on in my head and body anymore. That I love him. That he claims to love me, and yet we both know how futile it all is… that heartbreak lurks around the corner.
“We might make it through the completion of this project. Such as when I get the museum in order.” I smooth out my pants but keep my eyes downcast. “After that… well, we’ll have no reason to keep trying to make it work. I’ll probably crack. I’ll resent him. He won’t understand me. We’ll have no choice but to part ways.
Caroline remains silent for a long time. I can tell, through the lines on her face and the heavy breaths passing through her nostrils, that she’s both trying to parse this information about her son’s personal life and what she should say that comes off as unbiased.
It’s an impossible pursuit.
“I didn’t realize it was that complicated between you two,” she finally says. “And I’m sorry to hear that you two are on a road to so much pain. No mother wants to hear that about her child… I mean, that’s worse than all that other stuff.”
With no idea what to say, I finally pour some lukewarm tea and bring it to my lips.
“I see it this way. You’re the only one compromising, aren’t you?”
I nod. “It feels that way to me.”
“He needs to meet you halfway. Not a quarter of the way. Not a third of the way. Halfway. Ian is too good at negotiating. He gets that from his father and me. He’s good at making you see his side so easily. I’ve fallen into that trap a time or two. He’s charismatic and makes you feel taken care of.” Caroline shakes her head. “Kathryn, if any woman, and not just you, wants to be with my son for more than a few weeks, then you need to get him to compromise with you. You’ve done more than enough, I promise.”
I’m glad to hear her say that. I needed to hear her say that.
“Do you know what you want from him, Kathryn?”
That’s something I’ve been thinking about for days. Weeks. What do I want from Ian? What will make me comfortable? Happy? What will give me the confidence to pursue something more than a fling with him? How can I go out in public holding his hand or letting him drag me around in a collar once or twice a month… without dealing with awkward stares from people we know? How can I submit to Ian without worrying about my reputation as a Domme?
How can I become a switch for him?
“I know what I want,” I say. “I want him to see me for who I really am. He said he wanted to deconstruct me and then reconstruct me back into his perfect sub. He nearly did that. Except… why did I have to be deconstructed? Why did I have to change, to explore sides of myself I never knew existed?”
Caroline’s sad smile says everything. “Because you’re a woman.”
God, she’s right.
All these years, I’ve been trying to run away from, to fight against the shit that brings me down in this society. I’ve avoided so many traps threatening to catch me in a web of misogyny and chauvinism. And yet! When I fell for Ian, it felt natural to defer to his wishes, to give up a piece of myself for a fucking man.
I love Ian. Not at the expense of myself.
“My son is blind to such plights. He can’t see through the fog of sheer privilege his father and every other person he’s come across has bestowed upon him. Some things can’t be helped. Ian may not intend to do this to you, but… well, quite frankly, he’s an idiot. You need to tell him directly what you want and how you feel. Don’t just tell him that you love him. Tell him what you need from him to meet you halfway. If that means…”
“If that means what?”
Caroline looks caught between smiling and vomiting. “Dominating him.”
I scoff. “He would never go for it.”
“Perhaps not, but…” Her teeth graze her pink lips. “You’ll be surprised what a man will do for love. Like my ex-husband, who is dating that Barbie to make me jealous.”
Yet again, I scoff. “You think that’s what he’s doing?” I’m relieved to be off the subject of Ian and me, but at what cost? This could get ugly.
“I know that’s what he’s doing. He started dating her the moment he found out about me and that soccer player. Which was overplayed, if you know what I mean.”
A question battles within my mouth. “Do you two still…?”
“Oh, I love that mess of a man. I never doubted that he loves me. We are incompatible. Like you and my son.”
Oh God, I never want to be like that.
“Him dating our son’s ex is extra cream on the sundae. He’s trying to prove how virile he is, in the most disgusting way possible. I don’t have anything against the girl though….”
Before I know it, I spill that Stephanie May is blackmailing me.
Caroline’s face goes from semi-amused to about-to-cut-a-fuckhead in fewer than five seconds.
“What?” She gets up, flames shooting from her nostrils. “How much?”
I feel like I’m sitting at the feet of my own angry mother. “Fifty-thousand a month.”
“Fifty…” Yup. Here comes my mother. “Kathryn Margaret Alison.” She picks up a magazine from the coffee table, rolls it up, and thwacks me on the head. “You’re an idiot!”
I open my mouth to speak, but…
“No, dear, no. She is not worth a single Benjamin a month! Stop paying her.”
“Then she’ll…”
“I will take care of Princess Dystopian Tragic Theater With A Love Triangle. Hmph. Think I haven’t seen all her movies? When I thought Ian was dating her… I… well, never mind. Her ass is grass now. Grass I’m going to smoke.”
“Caroline, I don’t think…”
“That woman has fucked with my family enough. I don’t care if she’s Ms. Sally Sunshine or the president’s daughter…”
“Caroline…”
“No, honey, no.” She puts both hands on my shoulders. Now she’s looming in front of me, grinning. “You worry about my son. I’m going to take care of this interloper before she does any more damage to the people I care about.”
Ah, there’s one problem with that…
I’ve already decided what to do about Ian, and nobody’s going to like it much.
Chapter 15
IAN
“What do you mean you want to take a break?”
I lean across the table, trying to take Kathryn’s hand. She hides it beneath her legs, clasped tightly to her chair.
We’re in a nice restaurant, trying to have dinner after work. Kathryn’s been standoffish all week, but I thought that had to do with her period or something, not… this piece of shit news.
“You’re breaking up with me?”
Finally, Kathryn meets my erratic gaze. “No,” she says with finality. “I didn’t say I was breaking up with you. I said that I would like to take a break for a little while.”
I raise my hands, almost smacking a server in the leg. “How long is a little while?”
There’s something off about her expression. She’s not being submissive. Or at least not delightfully so. This is insecurity and indecision at its finest.
“I don’t know. A few weeks.”
“A few…” Oh hell no. “What brought this about? Did I do something?”
“No. Look…” Kathryn slams her hand on the table. “Listen to me. I’ve got shit going on in my brain that I don’t know how to deal with. I need to back off what we’ve got going on and take some time to myself.”
“While we’re still working together?”
“Are we incapable of working together?”
“No, but…” I’ll want her. If she’s around me and says that I can’t have her, well… I don’t know how I’ll act. Probably embarrass myself and sully my reputation with her even more. Because even though she says I didn’t do anything, I clearly have! “That’s not a fair request.”
“You’ve made plenty of unfair requests of me so far, Ian.” I don’t like that tone in her voice. “I think you can handle this one. I don’t care. Jack off in the shower more often. Go fuck some other young blonde for a while. I’m tired. I need some time to think. I… might actually take a quick vacation and go somewhere. I might go visit my mom.”
“Oh, so you’re breaking up with me and abandoning the project.”
The server starts coming with our food and then quickly walks away. Yeah. Now is not a good time.
“I’m not abandoning the project. I’ll let you keep Anita. You won’t have to pay me for the week or two I jet off. Just… please. Let me take a break for a while. From everything.”
She keeps saying that she’s not abandoning me – or the project, I suppose. She keeps saying that she’s not breaking up with me, per se, but she’s talking about me fucking other women and taking over the whole project without her help.
“You can’t do this.” My elbow is on the table, a banish worthy offense in my family home. An angrier finger than I intend pushes toward her face. “You can’t walk away until we talk this through.”
“I don’t even know how to talk about it. You’re the one with the upper hand. I’m tired of it. I need a break. Please, Ian, realize that I’m not going away forever.”
“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 the 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, 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!
