Chapter 63

Ira

We're in Midnight. Together.

No, not sexually, as much as I would love to see Kathleen pull a Stephanie May and go down on me in front of everyone. We're here, though. We're on a date, even if other people don't know that. Tonight is the last night of my darling's training, and I fully intend on going as far as I can with her here.

"I'm not sure I can…" Kathleen hangs near the door of the coat check. We're the only ones in here, aside from the woman behind the counter, matching up tickets and doing her best to ignore us. "I mean… people out there know us, Ira."

She's dressed to kill in a black number that hugs her curves and accentuates the fairness of her hair and skin. She's dressed up the collar with another necklace dangling in her cleavage, trying to throw off anyone's scent regarding what we're up to. I wish she would settle the hell down. Kathleen is beautiful, and she should know it.

"You will be fine," I say, clasping my hands on her shoulders. After tilting her head up, I look her in the eye, smiling, reassuring. "Be yourself. I'm not asking you to be anyone other than who you are tonight."

She vehemently points to the collar.

"Babe, it's fine. I'm not going to ask you to do anything sexual. You don't even have to touch me tonight."

"Then what is the point of this?" Kathleen looks about ready to rip off her collar.

"To remind you of your role tonight. I want you to be yourself so we can protect your image, but you're still mine. All you need to do is follow my commands. Nothing sexual. Do you understand? We're here to relax and have fun."

She snorts as if she doesn't believe me.

Someone comes into the coat check. I step back, putting distance between us and acting as if we truly are our cover – two workmates out to shake the stress, but not like that.

"Well, if it isn't the devil herself."

Jem extends her hand to shake mine as girlfriend Gwenyth takes their coats up to the counter. When Jem turns to Kathleen, however, she meets an uncommon sight.

"Fancy seeing you here as well, Ms. Allen," she says. I don't think she and Kathleen have met much before. "Here together, or…?"

I wait until Gwenyth has joined us before answering. "Kathleen and I have been working nonstop on The Ace project, as you know. We decided this was a good place to get some drinks and unwind. And who knows?" I wink at Jem, then Gwenyth. "Maybe some nice people are running around here." What? Just because I'm going steady with Kathleen doesn't mean any eye candy for either of us.

"Why don't you join us for drinks? Gwenyth and I have no plans other than taking in the sights and maybe having some… well, you know."

God love this place, it's always about sex.

We head out as a foursome, which is in Kathleen's favor, as it throws off anyone wondering if we're here as a couple. Why wonder that when we walk through the main door with two other people? Besides, people know we're working together. We're all over the news when it's a slow day. Not to mention whatever the Anderssens are blabbing.

There's an empty table to the side of the room where we sit and enjoy more than one glass of whatever we feel like having. I order Katie and me a couple of Old Fashioneds. She's sitting next to me on the same couch, but we're distant, her legs crossed toward me but my hands respectfully away from her.

I don't want it to be this way. I want it to be like at the Manoir, where I threw my arm around her and kissed her in front of everyone.

I want everyone to know that she's mine. Maybe not my sub, but at least my girlfriend. Who wouldn't be proud to call a woman like her their girlfriend? Look at her! Listen to her! For fuck's sake, smell her perfume! A woman with that much good taste deserves to be in a quality relationship. If only it could be me for years to come.

It's Saturday night, meaning the club quickly fills up. When clubs fill up, it means even VIP guests have difficulty finding an empty place to sit. Not that many come here to not at least chat for a while… before they go have fun with their dates or the people they pick up.

"These seats taken?" Someone leans over the back of Jem and Gwen's couch, extending her hand for a quick shake. "This place is packed, and I have yet to see some ass on that stage."

Laughter covers the table as we are joined by Helen Warren and Monique Grant, two people I never expected to join the likes of me but fuck it, Helen and Jem are also friends. It's not that I don't know Helen Warner, I simply haven't done much business with her outside of what my father delegates to me. Like getting money for The Ace.

The couple shares a couch with Jem and Gwenyth. Without being told to, Monique orders drinks from a server. It's not assertive. She's the type of woman to take a server to the side, whisper her order, and then rejoin her Domme, content with the service rendered. She's looking pretty smug as she perches on the edge of Helen's lap, and I can't blame her. Especially with a rock like that twinkling on her hand.

I look at Kathleen's hand. She's not wearing any rings. For a half-hearted minute, I consider buying her a ring. Not an engagement ring, hell no. A simple thing she can wear on any finger and be reminded of me when she looks down. Something to wear aside from the collar…

…Which she touches now, looking at Monique, who wears an understated collar to go with her outfit. I've seen her real one. A huge gaudy thing made of silver and diamonds. Not very practical on common nights out. Not that they're the most practical couple around.

Kathleen and Monique exchange looks. I'm caught in between. The woman knows from the Manoir that Kathleen and I are at least an item. What she doesn't know, however, is that Kathleen is acting as my sub.

Or at least until now. Because I am under no delusion that Monique doesn't know now. She won't stop gazing at Kathleen or the inconspicuous collar around her neck. I know we're fucked when she looks at me with that knowing smile.

Thankfully, she doesn't lean in toward Helen's ear. She would never. She wants to stay on our good side. I don't know what it means, though.

More drinks are poured. Kathleen downs hers quickly, and I feel weird asking her to top off my drink before Monique has the chance. Nobody pays Katie mind as she serves me a drink.

"You okay?" I whisper as Jem and Helen are distracted by a mutual friend.

She shrugs. "I've been worse…"

Yes, and things are about to get even worse. Because what is a party without the Anderssens showing up to fuck with shit?

Shouts of greetings go up, and even I'm caught up in the fray as Lara and Kennedy practically shove Kathleen into my lap so they can share our couch. That wouldn't be so bad if it weren't for the look of horror crossing my poor Katie's face.

I wrap my arm around her anyway. This place is getting so packed that hardly anyone would notice us being cozy anyway. Or at least I hope.

"Do they have to be here?" she asks.

I pat her shoulder. "Do you want to go?"

Shock covers her complexion. "And be seen leaving together?"

We look over in time to find Helen and Monique eyeing us suspiciously.

I don't fear that anyone here is going to out us as a couple. Not to mention, I have nothing to lose from people deducing that Kathleen is not only my girlfriend but my sub. Yeah, I have nothing to lose. I am fully aware that Kathleen has a reputation to protect, especially in this club. She's not an established switch like Lara Anderssen is, and my fellow full-time Dommes can be… a judgmental bunch around here. Especially the not-exclusively sapphic ones like Jem, Helen, and me.

I don't know what our end game here is anymore. When I imagined bringing my love here, I saw us relaxing alone – maybe chatting to a couple of people, but mostly alone – taking in a show, or perhaps escaping to a back room when nobody is looking. They've got toys here that I don't, and I think Kathleen might like them.

This is our last night like this. I want to make the most of it.

Instead, we're hanging out with kinky couples and trying not to look too much like one ourselves. Kathleen sure as hell isn't relaxing against me. Too bad. I would love a snuggle.

"How are the renovations coming?" Kennedy asks after her second drink. She has to yell to be heard over the rabble of the busy club on a Saturday night. "When does the hotel open?"

"Six weeks!" My voice is going to die at this rate.

"Six weeks?" Jem laughs on the other side of the table. "This has to be the fastest remodel in history."

"You'd think so, right?" These people also knew the answer to that question. Invitations for the opening ball went out a month ago.

Lara sends a wicked smile in my direction. "Maybe you guys should get some great entertainment for the ball. Like this shit about to go on stage."

I haven't even looked at the stage in thirty minutes. It was closed off and empty for so long that it didn't seem pertinent to strain my vision. Now that I'm looking, I see a Domme dressed in a black corset and knee-high boots. She's got a whip in her hand and black makeup all over her face.

Her blond ponytail makes me think of Katie. She tightens in my hold.

"Brace yourself, my dear," Lara says, patting her spouse's chest. "I know how much you love a good Domme going to town on a sub. Even if they're male."

"Think it's too much to ask for some pegging?"

"I think that only happens on Fridays, dear."

The others laugh. I'm too busy keeping an eye on Katie and making sure she's not about to pass out.

"I know her," she says to me. She's only two inches away from me, and yet it feels like miles. "That's Dawn Lovett. We have drinks sometimes."

I recognize the tone of her voice. Lamenting. Embarrassed. Sad.

No surprise when the show of the night is a Domme and her female sub, a gal she picks out of the audience. The solo sub has the stupidest grin on her face, which Mistress Dawn quickly thwacks out of her with a crack of the whip.

Everyone around me shudders in delight. Except for Kathleen. She's shuddering in something else entirely.

"Oh, she's gonna get it good," Gwenyth says. "I've seen this performer before. She doesn't pull any punches."

"Now what kind of lady comes to a place like this and thinks she's going to get any woman she wants?" Dawn has her sub's chin cupped as she chains her to a cross. "Go on, honey, tell the whole club what kind of foul creature you are."

She speaks into her mic, the low, submissive voice echoing between every warm body. "I'm a slut, Mistress."

Dawn grabs her between the legs, teasing her mound with a firm grip before walking away, laughing. "I'll say. You like having your skin tickled with a whip, slut?"

Of course she does. Because she's a sub who volunteered for this, knowing exactly what she signed off on when the club presented her with a liability form when she asked to be in the pool for consideration.

I don't pay much attention to the show. I keep my eyes on Kathleen, who is watching with rapt attention, her eyes so far away that it's possible nobody would be able to get through to her. This theory is proven true when Lara says something and doesn't get an answer. Huffing, Lara turns away again.

"She's probably thinking about doing it to Ira," she says much too loudly.

The people on the other couch look over at us. At me. At Kathleen.

"Don't be silly," Kathleen quickly interrupts. "I would never waste my time on someone like her. Ira would rather eat grass than get spanked by anyone."

Uh.

"Do you want it, huh?" Mistress Dawn is rubbing the submissive woman between the legs, her hand cupped so tightly that her partner is wincing in exquisite pain. "Do you want me to make you come before you're even ready? Because I will."

Boy howdy.

"Come on," I whisper into Kathleen's ear. "Let's go back before the rooms start filling up from everyone getting horny off this."

She sits back, nearly knocking into Lara behind her.

"Do you want to sit out here any longer with these people, like this?"

My hiss finally makes its way into her brain. She shakes her head and stands up, going to an empty corner and waiting for me to follow.

I get a key for a back room, one of the only ones left. I motion for Kathleen to follow me down the hall, where I hear the faint moans of people having kinky sex – and vanilla sex, I'm sure. By the time we reach our room, however, Kathleen almost refuses to go inside.

"What's wrong?" I ask, the door opening in front of me.

She doesn't say anything. Within a few seconds, she goes in, standing in the doorway and whispering to me, "Fuck me good."

My sub almost disappears on me. I can't let that happen.