Chapter 45

Kathleen

What the fuck, Ira!

She's pushing me into the couch, kissing me, my hand instinctively touching her face as I accept her tongue deep in my mouth. I don't realize the implications of what she's done until she breaks away, settling back into the couch as if she 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 kinda forgot where we are.

Once my senses return to me, I smack Ira on the leg. "Excuse me, Ms. Mathison."

A beat passes. Laughter erupts in the room. Kennedy raises her glass and says, "Cheers," before gulping the rest of her drink. Grace falls deeper into Kennedy's lap and whispers something into her ear. Lara is staring at the girl's ass.

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

See Ira… Again…

I'm frozen with the unfamiliar sensation of jealousy. I see the way she and this 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 Ira got all possessive terror on them. So, I have no business looking at this Chelsea as if she should back the fuck off.

Then I think about how Ira kissed me before these people. Now they know.

"I've been doing well, thank you," Ira says to Chelsea, her 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. Ira 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 Ira has her hands all over me in front of these people. Some of them total strangers. Some of them work colleagues.

When she's decided Chelsea has asked enough questions, she kisses me again, pushing me into the back of the couch with her whisky-laden breath overpowering me. My hand brushes against her crotch. Color me surprised. The woman came prepared.

I wish she 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. Lara and Kennedy are tipsy and flirty, their hands all over each other, all over Grace, their sexuality oozing like a contagious disease if anyone so much as looks at them. June 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. Monique is present because the Anderssens are two of her biggest investors. Not to mention how much money Ira and I carry together. She picks the gatherings she crashes carefully.

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

"I want you, Kathleen."

I know that growl in her voice. It's the one that makes my insides shiver. Makes my heart beat faster. Makes me want to melt in her 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 her 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 Lara Anderssen.

"That's not a kiss, dears," she says, taking Grace by the arm. "This is."

My brows nearly shoot off my face as Lara 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 Lara's embrace and acting like she's never been kissed better in her life.

Lara 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," Ira says, holding up her glass in mock toast. "I could never hope to kiss my mistress like that."

Everyone's so tipsy – or acting tipsy to keep the party going – that we all laugh at the stupid joke. Of course, Ira, you silly! Of course, you couldn't kiss your mistress like that, Ira! You ain't even married!

I know I'm well past tipsy with a thought like that. Even so, I snuggle against Ira's chest and throw a leg over her 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 kinky stories with everyone, from that time I kept a girl on edge for a total of two hours to Lara claiming she'd been in a butch lesbian gangbang back in college. Kid stuff! I don't have the gall to upstage her, though.

"I'm forever sad that I was not there," Kennedy says.

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

Ira tenses beneath my touch. Her internal screaming is deafening.

"Two mascs and four femmes." The woman she's leaving out must be Monique, 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 one or the other." June looks at the whole group with a wink.

"I have a better idea," Ira says low enough for only me to hear. "Let's get some privacy."

Ira is speaking my language. I've spent the past fifteen minutes thinking of nothing but putting my hand between her legs and taunting her until she 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, Ms. Mathison?" My arms are not leaving her torso. It's taking everything I've got to not kiss her again.

"Why, we would fuck, Ms. Allen."

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

"Pick one." She gestures to the two freelancing women trying to get the Anderssens to go with a damned 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?"

I study Chelsea and June, two women with very different games. June has a dominant personality. Then there's Chelsea, who is more submissive but as plotting as she whispers so much shit into people's ears that I don't doubt she's getting a ton of tips tonight.

It's a hard choice. They're both attractive. They're both professionals. There is one glaring difference.

Ira has fucked one of them. Probably Topped her. Fairly recently.

I don't think so.

"That one." I nod toward June, currently shoving Grace out of the way and taking up room in Lara's lap. "I like her personality and style. I bet her room is nice for… occupying."

Ira squeezes my thigh and sucks gently on my throat. God. She better hurry up and get us that room, otherwise, I'm dragging her to the bathroom to fuck me on the sink.

I might do that anyway!

"Go to the bathroom, lovely," she purrs, gently shoving me off the couch. "Everything will be arranged by the time you get back. Shit works fast here."

The gaze I catch from Monique is telling. She definitely agrees with Ira. Works fast, yup.

At the end of the day this place is a business. We understand businesses.

I go to the damned bathroom and do some different kinds of business. I've drank a bit tonight. I'm not drunk. Far from it. Yet my inhibitions are definitely on a different planet, and I stumble in my heels as I go from the sink to the bathroom door.

The lounge is empty by the time I get back. How the hell? I was gone for ten minutes, max, but the Anderssens and their mistress – and Chelsea – are absent, leaving only Monique, June, and Ira sitting on a couch together. Something passes between Ira and Monique's hands. Once I realize it's a wad of cash, Monique pockets it in a slit in her dress. June is not perturbed.

"Ms. Allen," Monique says, passing me in the doorway. She's so petite that I practically dwarf her in my heels. "Everything has been arranged. Have a good night."

Well, that's not ideal, her being open with her knowledge like that, but I'm not going to let it bother me. I join Ira and June, both of whom are silent until my arrival.

"Ira tells me you're quite the woman, Ms. Allen." June's voice is a magical combination of smooth and feisty. Like a fluffy cat about to scratch.

"Please, call me Kathleen."

"Of course." I'm flashed a sweet smile.

"Well?" I turn to Ira. "I was told everything has been arranged."

Her hand clutches my waist as we leave the lounge, heading toward the grand staircase. A key dangles in her hand. All I can think about is claiming this woman the moment we're alone. I hope this June has a big bed for us to completely decimate.

"You're very beautiful tonight." I can smell more than whisky on Ira's breath. Wine. A bit of vodka. Lust. "I haven't had the chance to tell you yet."

I may or may not squeeze her ass through her pants. "You don't have to tell me. I see it in the way you look at me."

"Oh? How do I look at you?"

She directs us down a hallway. "Like you want to put your mouth on every part of me."

The key fits nicely into a nondescript door. Ira opens it, revealing a large chamber bedecked in amber-colored walls, a large canopy bed made of mahogany, and enough furniture to tie a person up on to satisfy anyone. Ira turns on the chandelier before lighting a few electric candles and turning off the chandelier again. We're left in the softest glow. A glow that incites her to draw me into her embrace and kiss me.

I'm so ready. I can feel her prosthetic nudging my stomach, and every thought of fucking her, tasting her, and otherwise pleasuring this body – and mine – is all I can allow into my brain. I've been waiting all night to get my girlfriend alone.

"Looks like I arrived just in time."

I jump out of Ira's arms, turning to the door where a familiar face lurks.

"What's she…" Ira's lips are on my ear before I finish my disturbing thought.

"I want to see you work, Katie." Ira nips my skin, sending a rush of lust through my body as I look into June's glowing face. "Go take her for me."

"What!"

"I haven't seen a real Domme like you in action in a long time. With another woman? It's my lucky day."

I look at her as if she's nuts. She knew we were heading toward exclusive, right?

June approaches, lowering her arms and kicking off her heels so she's shorter than me. "I don't discriminate…" She smiles. "Mistress."

Nobody's called me that in a long time.

Ah, I've missed it!