Dom Vs: Domme: The Deluxe Trilogy: A Billionaire Romance (Dom Vs. Domme Book 0) (68 page)

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.”