Текст книги "Bite Me"
Автор книги: Cynthia Dane
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Текущая страница: 14 (всего у книги 15 страниц)
Chapter 29
IAN
“I’ve solved our funding discrepancy!”
I let my father pour me a scotch before settling back into my leather chair. He’s invited me out to his favorite club. A real good ol’ boys abode where cigar smoke is thick and all the waiters wear bowties. We’re here in the corner of a lounge, a few other men in their finest suits laughing it up when it comes to wives, daughters, and mistresses. My father is the only one bringing up business, and since he’s so happy it must be public knowledge.
“Oh?” The scotch isn’t my favorite, but I let it roll over my tongue and flush down my throat. “And where are you picking up an extra fifteen-million dollars?”
Chuckling, my father swings one leg over the other and raises his eyebrows in that know-how way. He’s done that my whole life. When he knows something that I don’t, or is about to lay on something I would have never thought of. “Let’s say our pal Crow has come through for us as our final investor.”
Now I raise my brows, and it’s not because I’m about to impart some knowledge onto my father. Far from it. If anything, I’m a tad concerned. “Xavier Crow from Black Raven Pharmaceuticals?”
“That’s the one.”
“Surprised you’re getting in bed with that guy.”
“Anyone who is anyone is getting into bed with Crow. What? The only other alternative was Jackson Lyle, and nobody will touch his money for at least a year until the whole bruh-ha-ha with the Warrens die down. We can’t risk offending them.”
“No. We can’t.” My father’s courting of Henry Warren played out, and the man threw down five-million for The Grand. He’ll probably want the Honeymoon Suite we have planned out for him and his bride. “Still, a pharmaceutical man?”
“Crow is all about real estate on the side. He owns half of the Pacific Northwest now.”
“So I’ve heard. He’s also pissing people off in Portland because most of his buying leads to some of the fastest gentrification this country has ever seen.”
“Son, that’s Portland. It’s three-thousand miles away. People around here don’t give a rat’s ass about west coast real estate, unless they have a hand in it. Besides, that whole presentation you gave was all about how we’re not further gentrifying the old district. I don’t know what you have against this. Crow is known for being right in line with your lifestyle. In fact, he runs the most exclusive club on the west coast.”
I stiffen. My father knows about my “lifestyle” insofar people talk about seeing me at The Dark Hour, and he’s met a few of my past subs when I needed a date for a dinner or party. Plus, my mother knows everything, because she’s a nosy woman who is always up in my love life. When she’s drunk, she’s liable to tell my father everything about me. It’s a problem I ignore.
Until now.
“What Xavier Crow does in his private time doesn’t concern me, especially three-thousand miles away, as you say.” I drink more of the scotch to ease my nerves. “What does concern me is whether or not we want to be attached to a man like that.”
“It doesn’t matter, son, it’s been done. It was the only way we could pay the Andrews.”
In the days since we last negotiated, the Andrews presented a final offer of sixty-five-million. Still way above the worth of The Grand, but they were firm that they would not come down any farther, no matter how much my father presented the facts. They wouldn’t even listen to me, and they like me. They must need that money for something.
And on the subject of money, no matter how we crunched the numbers, nobody could come up with millions more. Our top budget was fifty. My father’s been busy wrestling up the extra fifteen, and apparently he found it in a new friend named Xavier Crow.
“Soon enough we will be the proud owners of The Grand. Then the real work begins.” My father tops off his drink with a smile. “That reminds me, Ian, we need to set up a crew for you on the administrative end. Your assistant won’t be enough.”
Ah, yes. My father is foisting all the real work on me. Managing the contractors, handling the money, dealing with the press… all the joys that come from a high profile remodel. I haven’t been sweating it because I know what needs to be done, but he’s right, it’s a lot of work for me to handle with only Valerie to count on. Yet if my father thinks I’m going to have a “team” of talking heads, he’s got another think coming.
“There’s only one person I want to work with,” I say. “I want Kathryn.”
He eyes me with what can only be described as curiosity. Maybe a little bemusement. “Alison? Well, sure, but… doesn’t she have her own shit to worry about right now?”
“I don’t doubt she’s looking for a new project to tie her over until they let her work on the museum. A school. A library. Some homeless shelter.” I match my father’s chuckle, just to let him know we’re on the same page. “That woman loves to give, if you know what I mean.”
Our eyes meet in the darkness of the room. Yes, Father, read into that all you want. This is the closest I’ve come to giving away what’s happening between Kathryn and I. For good reason. This is to my advantage.
My father speaks two languages. Money and women. Money we both understand. Women are another matter. This is the man who married a hot young thing when he knocked her up, divorced her after their twentieth anniversary, and then occasionally hooked up with her once in a while because hey, they’re still in love! Never let it be said the Mathers were level-headed individuals. My parents make me look like a saint with his shit together.
“So… you and Kathryn Alison.” My father goes from twisting his mouth in surprise to settling in his chair, laughing. “That woman’s a real hot-head, I hear. You gonna keep her in line?”
I want to scoff at his choice of words – my mother has her feminist teeth deep in my neck – but I have to play his game. Especially if I’m to get what I want. “You could say that. I only need her. Well, her and the assistant she’ll in turn bring. Of course she’ll demand a higher price tag than five lackeys put together, but she’s smart and knows what she’s doing. She’s worth those five lackeys and then some.”
“Uh huh. Does her father know about this? You know he and I go back…”
“I haven’t talked to the man since the presentation.” The one where I fucked his daughter in an empty room. “Anything you’re inferring needs to be kept quiet. Including from Mom.”
“I don’t tell that woman nothing, son. She doesn’t give me a chance with all her babbling.” He sounds like he’s whining, but he can’t hide the smile on his face. Yup. Still smitten. Divorced, but smitten. In a twisted way, it’s adorable. “All right. If it’s Kathryn you want, you can have her. And her assistant, but I’m assuming that’s on her payroll.”
“Simple case of trickledown economics.”
“Indeed.”
We clink our glasses together. Father thinks he’s being coy with that look as he says, “The Alisons are a good match in more ways than one. You know, Spencer and I used to joke about you two getting married when the girl was born.”
I try not to grimace. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Nothing’s really happening.”
“You’re a young man, she’s a young beautiful woman…”
“We don’t have much in common outside of that.”
“And yet here you are, asking my permission to hire her. She may be smart at this sort of thing, but it’s no coincidence that you would get to spend a lot of time with her.”
Before I can respond, my father opens his mouth again.
“Use that time well, son.”
I keep a stern eye on him as I finish my drink. I don’t know what he’s implying, but everything he’s said today has sounded dodgy as hell. It’s going to be a long project.
Assuming Kathryn says yes to working with me. I haven’t even asked yet.
Chapter 30
KATHRYN
There’s a lot buzzing through my head right now, most of which concerns the fact I’m riding in an elevator up to Ian’s condo.
I haven’t been here in a few days. Not since that night, which ended with bagels and cream cheese over coffee. And oral sex for me.
After that, I took another shower, put my trench coat back on, and took a cab home without another kiss or hug from Ian. I didn’t want them.
Then last night I heard from him for the first time. “Meet me somewhere to talk business.” I’ve been feeling pretty antisocial as I sort my shit out, so I told him I didn’t want to do dinner or drinks even in a private lounge. That’s how I ended up in this elevator, making my mad ascent to that place we last made love.
Made love. Not words I thought I would ever say in relation to Ian Mathers.
I’m dressed for business, not pleasure. I’m on my period anyway, so fuck sex. And I don’t mean well I guess I’ll give you a blowjob period. I mean don’t fucking touch me and let me rot with my ibuprofen period.
I pop another one before the elevator opens. My stomach lining is doomed anyway.
I text Ian saying I’m here, and he says the door has been left unlocked while he finishes something up in his library. When I enter, locking the door behind me, I find the place as I left it. Ian definitely lives in a bachelor pad, but it’s homey. I don’t doubt he gets the place professionally cleaned once or twice a week, but he isn’t a slob either. There’s one dish in the sink and few spots on the carpet around the TV. The most clutter comes from books on the coffee table and cat toys strewn across the living room.
A cat. The man has a freakin’ cat. With an almost impossible to pronounce Irish name, because deep inside, he’s a pretentions fuck.
When he comes out of the library, dressed in business casual and offering me a drink, I clench my thighs shut. It ain’t happening tonight.
Business talk over bourbon. Sitting across from each other in the living room. No sweet talk. No covert touches. It really is business.
Important business.
Ian wants me to join him on his remodel project. Apparently he cleared it with our fathers so I could be properly paid for my services. All I need to do is bring Anita to help me and, you know, pay her as I always do.
This whole time I’ve barely drunk any of the bourbon, but now I guzzle it. Should’ve done that earlier, because it’s doing wonders to numb my cramps.
“Didn’t have any other plans, did you?” he asks, half-empty glass in his hand as he dangles his arm over the back of his couch. “I assumed that your schedule was empty right now.”
“You assumed right.” My plans were the museum. Now that it’s put on hold, I have to figure something else to do with my time. Take some classes. Find a new cause I can champion. Go on vacation in Europe, where the subs are plenty and uncircumcised.
Ugh. Domination.
I don’t know if it’s my period or my mental health right now, but I have been so turned off ever since I left this place on Sunday morning. My mind is in constant turmoil over it. Do I need to purge my system and dominate a guy? Or do I need something else?
Until I came here tonight, I thought it was the former more than the latter. Now that I’m here…
I can’t stop staring at him. How handsome he is in slick trousers and that light pink shirt with the top three buttons undone. Stubble on his chin, his cheek, but contained. I can smell his nice cologne over here, and it makes me feel… comforted.
No way can I forget what happened this weekend. I went too far with him… yet he proved to be a better man than I ever thought in how he handled it after the fact.
All this time I’ve thought Ian Mathers was a stuck-up rich boy who indiscriminately used women because, well, that’s what men in these circles do. So many enter BDSM as Doms because they wanna spank and choke women who line up to have it happen to them. Sure, lots of them have great relationships, but as a woman, let alone a Domme, I’m always wary of a Dom’s true intentions.
Maybe Ian isn’t any of those things. He’s a decent guy. Maybe a great one.
I want a relationship with him.
Now hear me out. I’ve thought a lot about this. I’m not… in love with the guy. Not like that. Besides, let’s be honest. He and I are so same that we’re too different for each other. I don’t want to be a sub fulltime. I barely want to do more exploration into that side of myself.
This is why it won’t work out between him and me. Not on a serious relationship front.
He knows that too. That’s probably why he hasn’t made a move on me since I got here.
“I’ll do it,” I say. “What do you need? Administrative work?”
“Somewhat. I need help keeping the contracts in line and making sure everything goes according to plan. It would be nice having one person I can trust instead of a few I barely know from Adam.”
“You trust me?”
He looks at me as if he should be the one asking me that. “You have a vested interest in the quick completion and success of this project. So, yes. That said, we start in a week. The sale will take about a month to complete, but until then we can start making the arrangements. I’ll also need you to write some copy for the press. You’re way more experienced at that than I am.”
Yup.
“Sounds good.” I can barely look at him right now. The more I do, the more I think about going to the couch and making a fool of myself.
Kissing him. Holding him. Feeling his hands on me as I do whatever the fuck I want to him. Ugh!
I’d destroy him.
He’d destroy me.
This wouldn’t be a volatile relationship at all.
“Ian,” I say after a few moments of silence. “We need to talk. About the other thing.”
He pours himself another drink. “Sure.”
“I’ve been thinking a lot since I left here Sunday.” I don’t know how I should approach this. Physically or verbally. On one hand I want to hold his hand and confess everything I feel. On the other? I want to hold myself to this chair and never look him in the eye. There is still a lot I’m coming to grips with in my heart and mind.
My body, meanwhile, knows damn well what it wants.
“Let’s face it, Ian, we’re in a thick forest here with few breadcrumbs to get out. Especially if we’re going to work together.”
He smiles at my analogy. I melt a little inside. Even this cold Domme has ways of unwinding. Fuck, I’m thinking like him.
“What’s going on here, exactly?”
The smile fades. That’s right, buddy, I’m gonna make you talk now.
“I figured this is casual. If it ever happens again.” He drinks. “Vanilla sex, that is.”
Only people like us would have to specify that it’s vanilla. “So, hooking up like we did those first couple of times.”
“Preferably with a bed here and there, yes.” That smile is back.
“All right.” Casual sex. I think I can handle that. “So we’re not a… thing.”
“It wouldn’t work out, Katie.”
Every time he says my name like that, I want to shiver. This time, I go for it, letting my whole body display what he does to me. “After this weekend, that is very clear.”
“It’s nobody’s fault, Just how we are.”
“That’s the thing.” I can’t believe I’m saying this. I can’t even believe I’ve been constantly thinking about this for days. Every time I close my eyes, I see him towering over me, whispering filth into my ear as he gets ready to smack me, hold me down, come inside me. I’m disgusted and turned on all at once. “What if it’s not how I am?”
He’s intrigued, but listening.
“What if I am a switch?”
“Katie…”
“I’m serious. What we did Saturday night was fucking hot. No, I wasn’t ready for a lot of it… but I think I could do it again in the future.”
“Katie.”
“No, listen to me. I couldn’t be your fulltime sub, Ian, that’s true, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to keep exploring…” Does he want to say something? I don’t let him. “There’s a lot we could offer each other in that department.”
“You’re talking about trying to submit some more?”
“Yes. I could only do it with you.”
Ian leans forward, those sharp eyes of his coming dangerously close even though he’s still an easy five feet away. “Why?”
I feel vulnerable. More vulnerable than when I was handcuffed to his bed getting ready to be fucked bareback for the first time. “I trust you,” I try to say with conviction. However, my voice trembles. Only a little.
“You’re asking a lot of me.” There’s a growl in his throat. Not one trying to overpower me, but a side of his true self. “This weekend was emotional for me as well. You put me through a lot of ups and downs. I would be at the whims of your emotions and what you can handle on any given day.”
“I don’t mean all the time, Ian. Maybe just… once in a while. In between the casual hookups.”
“You’re blurring lines, Katie. That’s more dangerous than dunking your head into the pot full splash.”
“I don’t care!” I stand up. My stomach hurts, my teeth grit, but I won’t let this man tell me what I do or do not want. “Fact of the matter is, I need this. I need to know if this is something I really want, or if I’m confused. You’re the only man who can help me. You’re the only one I can trust with that side of myself.”
He also stands. When we’re like this, we can’t overpower the other person. We’re too equal. It’s both a comfort and a disappointment.
“And why should I bother?”
My heart beats with the power of a thousand hooves. Even so, I square my shoulders and show him that I’m not a woman who backs down from what she wants.
And I want him.
“Because the thought of breaking me down, of building me back up into your perfect sub who trusts you implicitly turns you so the fuck on that your dick can hardly stand the pressure in your pants.”
When he doesn’t respond aside from glaring me down, I decide it’s time for me to take my leave. I pick my purse up, thank him for the drink, and head toward the door.
I’m barely there, my hand on the knob, when his heavy strides come up behind me and latch the door shut again.
“You will be mine,” he snarls into my ear. His hand is above my head, holding the door closed while his body presses me into it. Yet he doesn’t touch me.
I want him to touch me. My body is on fucking fire and only he can stomp out these flames. Fuck me. Fuck me.
“You will be mine. Your body, your mind, and your heart. You will not disobey me. I will punish you for disobeying me. I will break you down. I’ll erase everything that makes you a Domme when we’re together. You will be turned into my perfect specimen.”
His hips thrust against me. I gasp. I can feel his cock hardening against my clothed ass.
“Can you believe I went easy on you last time? I won’t do that again. You will know who I really am as a Dom. I am going to find out who you really are as a sub.”
I can’t find any words. Shit, shit. What is happening?
Why do I like this?
“All of this,” Ian’s hand grips my side before traveling to my breasts, squeezing one and then descending toward my thighs, “will be mine. You will call me sir. You will do what I say.”
I open my mouth.
“And you will like it. You will beg for more.”
His hands close in on my breast and thigh both. Deep down, I wish for him to take me right here. Right now.
“You will feed my ego by making me the only man who sees that side of you. No one else has to know.”
Ian clamps his lips onto my neck, his tongue scorching hot against my skin as he sucks me, hard, attempting to mark me before I can leave his home. The only thing hotter is his breath entering my ear, followed by the menacing tongue.
“Are you mine… Katie?”
I whimper. “Yes, sir.”
“Good.” He releases me, and I’m slumped against his door. “You should probably go before I change my mind. You’re going to be a handful, and I need to figure out if I have the patience for it.”
I don’t feel like a handful right now. I feel liable to do whatever he says.
That’s what my body wants me to think.
“Night, Katie.”
I rush out the door, my purse bouncing on the floor as I stumble toward the elevator. I’m barely inside, letting the doors slide shut behind me, when I feel my phone buzz in my pocket.
“See you at work on Monday. Bring some extra folders for the materials I’m going to give you.”
The man is hot. The man is cold. He’s going to ruin me if I’m not careful.
I type the first thing I think of. “BITE ME.”
“I can do that too. Not on Monday, though.”
What have I gotten myself into? Since reuniting with Ian a few weeks ago...
I’m now so far in deep with him that I’m about to completely compromise who I am. And for what? To find out who I really am?
My phone buzzes again.
“I look forward to training you.”
Training me. The man is going to train me to be a sub. His perfect sub. My boundaries are going to be pushed. My mind will dissolve. My body will be shoved to a brink I’ve never before comprehended.
I’m scared. I’m worried. I’m so anxious that my heart is pumping my blood in all sorts of different directions.
He’ll either kill me or turn me into a more perfect version of myself.
I can’t wait.
To be continued in Part 2, FIGHT US.
Coming October 30th
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