Chapter 67

Ira

"What do you mean you want to take a break?"

I lean across the table, attempting to take Kathleen'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. Kathleen'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, Kathleen 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 while."

I raise my hands, almost smacking a server in the leg. "How long is a 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…" Kathleen 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 although 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, Ira." I don't like that tone in her voice. "I think you can handle this one. I don't care. Use the showerhead more often. Go fuck some other young blonde for a while. I'm tired. I need some time to think. I… might 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 quickly walks away. Now is not a good time.

"I'm not abandoning the project. I'll let you keep Annie. 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 punishable offense in my family home. An angrier finger than I intend pushes toward her face. "You can't walk away until we talk."

"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, Ira, 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 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 that she wants to take a break from sex and romance. Right when I'm falling head over heels!

The hell is her problem?

"Ira." 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…"

"Kathleen." 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 gossip and want a chance to say, "Did you hear about Ira Mathison and Kathleen Allen having a lover's spat in public? Truly their parents' children."

Kathleen 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.

Kathleen leans back in her seat, arms crossed. "You can be such an asshole, Mathison."

"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."

"Now hold on…"

"I've gotta cool off." Kathleen 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, or responding to my non-work texts for days, and leaving for Europe as you sort out whatever the hell you need to sort the hell out.

Damnit, Kathleen! 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!

I am walking through a haze of nothing but work, drinks with businesspeople, and books, movies, and people arguing on the internet. I am bitter. I am annoyed. I am everything I fucking hate in a whiny little insecure bitch.

Kill me.

It's been four weeks since Kathleen dumped me. Oh, I know what she called it. Taking a break. Thinking. Contemplating the birds and the bees and the whips and chains. She can call it whatever she wants. I know she's dumped me. Otherwise, why would she avoid me outside of work? Why won't she kiss me before she leaves for home?

All right, I can understand wanting to take a break from the kink if it's getting to her. I can even understand wanting to avoid sex… I mean, I guess. Wouldn't make me terribly happy, but it's better than not being able to be with her at all.

Four weeks of not enjoying her touch, her breaths next to me in bed. Her company in the tub. Her light snores as she dozes on my shoulder or curls up beneath my covers, next to my cat.

And then… two weeks of no Kathleen at all. She went to Europe right away, visiting her mother, or at least that's what she said. Before she left, she was morose, confused, frayed…

When she returned, she looked and acted like the Kathleen Allen I have seen sporadically over the years.

I first saw her in a café, where I was having lunch with some of the investors for The Ace. Minding my own business, sipping lattes, and trying to think about anything but women, and then in waltzed Kathleen with two women I know from the Domme scene.

She was smiling. Smiling.

Laughing. Carrying on. Making jokes before politely ordering her food with a grin.

I caught her eye in the beginning. Her smile faltered around me. It felt like an arrow to the chest. Naturally, I texted her. I held back my real feelings, asking her how her trip was and letting her know that it was good to see her glowing. Whatever happened in Europe, it must have been good for her.

I wonder if she found someone else.

Ugh, not something I want to think about. Yet how can I think of anything else? Kathleen is a beautiful, radiant woman who attracts people to her like an angel. She attracted me, didn't she? I apparently couldn't give her what she wanted. Or at least not enough.

You know, if she would tell me…

No, Ira, don't act like this. It's not becoming of a gentleperson. Nobody wants to be around a whiny ass who is experiencing heartache for the first time in their young life. As my mother told me when I went to her place to moan, "You're so used to getting what you want. How about you think about what another person wants for once?"

I have the sinking suspicion that my mother has something to do with Kathleen's disappearance. I wouldn't put it past her. Especially since she's been making comments about my kinky lifestyle if you know what I mean. The gender shit is sacred, but BDSM? Fair game.

I can only imagine what Kathleen has told her.

Four weeks. Now here I am, sitting in Midnight with Jem and another friend who has only been here a couple of times, as they're not too much into kink. We're all stag. Gwenyth's off visiting relatives, and as far as anyone here is concerned, I'm single.

I should feel relieved here. Seeing other dominants with their subs usually makes me feel better about my future. Let's also not forget that beautiful women abound. More than one has made eyes at me from across the room. Three months ago, two months ago, I would have been tempted to flirt back.

It feels wrong now.

Kathleen commented on me "fucking some other blonde," but I don't want to. Every time one of these young ladies looks at me, I see her face, her eyes, her hair… even if the woman in question looks completely different from Kathleen. A Domme walked by, and I wanted to ask her if it could work between someone like us.

Plus, you know… this is the last place we made love.

Sex is not on the table for me tonight. I don't even feel right watching the show that begins between a dominant and their nubile sub, a woman whom everyone wants because she has "all the right curves" and the meekest voice in the room. Some get turned on by that. Normally, I would at least enjoy the spanking her round ass gets from a paddle.

It feels wrong. I wish we had gone to a normal bar or club tonight. Somewhere far away from the kink.

"Uh-oh," Jem says after the show ends. "Bunch of bitches on patrol. Three o'clock."

The crowds part to admit a formidable group of four Dommes, their hair loud, their voices louder, and their boots clapping against the floor with every heavy step. Right in front is Eve Warren, her spiky hair and jewelry enough to make this small group here cross their arms and look the other way. I remember her holding one of my kitchen knives. Formidable, indeed.

I barely recognize the other women. Some of them aren't from around here, but there's a high-end convention going on in town and this is probably a once-a-year gathering. Like the worst sorority on campus. Well, worse if you're someone who prefers their women a bit… docile.

A woman completely unlike the one bringing up the rear.

Kathleen.

She's scurrying to catch up, holding a coat check in her hand and explaining to Eve that she was held up in the checkroom. They laugh, Eve offering to buy my Katie a drink before they sit down on the other side of the room. Five women. Five Dommes.

Kathleen is very… Domme tonight.

It's not only her black pantsuit hugging every part of her body. It's her metallic jewelry hanging down her neck, dangling from her fingers, and mingling with the smoky makeup she's put on for this night. It's her gait as she walks, her posture as she sits and drinks, and her manner of speaking to the other women – and men – around her. Commanding. Dominating. Masculine, but with a touch of feminine.

It's her hair, resting atop her head in a crisp twist decorated with large crystals.

It's that entrancing look. That demeanor. Countenance. Visage. I don't fucking care what it is. It's the way she glances at me before going back to whatever raunchy conversation the other Dommes are having as if I'm not here at all.

Perhaps it's for the best.

"Mathison," Jem says, clapping me on the shoulder. "Look alive. We've got company."

Company. Women.

Submissive women, to be exact.

Two of them. They look like best friends, or at least the kind of girls who come to these things together so they don't have to be alone. This place is safe, as far as them not having to worry about being attacked or stalked, but I imagine it's still scary for a sub to work up the courage to come to this sort of place by herself, looking for a dominant for tonight, for eternity.

Under normal circumstances, I would consider this my lucky night. You see, this is my last night I'll have to burn for a while. The opening ball at The Ace is next weekend, and I'll be ass-deep in running the place until the family is confident enough to fully turn it over to the actual manager.

These aren't normal circumstances, however. I'm looking at these girls, dressed in matching lingerie and sporting pretty collars, and wishing they would leave. Don't tempt me. I might take up one of you for an evening of frustrated domination. I'd take you roughly, bitterly, wishing you were a woman named Kathleen instead of the stand-in you are. So, you see, it's a good idea I do not interact tonight.

I look over at the other group of Dommes. Kathleen is blocked by Eve, but sometimes she leans far enough back that I see the white of her throat. If she were with me right now, I'd suck it until there was no more skin to leave my mark on.

"I'm sorry, ladies," Jem says in her smooth voice. "I'm taken. My girlfriend is currently not here. This gentlequeer here…" she points to me. "Ira Mathison. Maybe you've heard of them." Jem may use female pronouns with me in our private conversations, but with strangers, I'm always gender-neutral. The way I prefer strangers to see me. Strangers. Not Kathleen. Sigh.

They shake their heads, smiling in apology.

"Ah, well, they're a real killer. They're not saying much tonight, though." She kicks my shin, enough to make me react.

"I'm afraid I'm not available either. Sorry."

Both girls are crestfallen. Our other friend is not in the mood, even if they're single. The kind of sex these girls want isn't the kind our friend can deliver.

So this fellow is incapable of Topping, and Jem isn't the cheating asshole type. That leaves me, the one everyone thinks is unattached and game to fuck anything that moves and will say, "Yes, Mistress. Yes, my King."

You know, if I played my cards right, I could probably have both of them tonight.

The thought is so unappealing that I almost blanch at the thought.

"Since when are you unavailable?" Jem asks. "Last I checked, the closest you got to a relationship was with that actress. Isn't she screwin' your dad now? Or is that guy in the tabloids somebody else?"

I don't answer.

"Fine. Be that way."

After politely nodding, I get up and excuse myself to the restroom.

I don't go to the restroom.

I wander around the room, avoiding the other group of Dommes and the woman I'm convinced I love. There's no way she's going to talk to me in…

"Ira."

This place is so dark in some corners that I barely see Kathleen when I pass her. She's leaning against the wall near the women's restroom. Probably escorted one of her friends here and is now waiting to go back to their table.

"Kati… Kathleen." I keep my voice level, although I can't stop from fidgeting with the buttons on my dinner jacket. "Good to see you. Will I see you back at work soon? We've been sorely missing you." That's an understatement. Vivian's told me that Annie's broken down crying from all the work more than once. Kathleen better be paying her double.

"Monday. Hope I didn't cause too much trouble. Would've been back this week, but my father called me away to help him with some personal matters."

"I see."

"You look…" Her eyes dart up and down, taking in what I'm wearing, how I'm standing… probably how I smell. "Good. Saw your new friends over there." She nods toward the girls accepting complimentary drinks from Jem. She's leaning in, telling them about the best dominants to try next, since I'm apparently out. "They're pretty. Should be fun."

"It's not like that."

"Oh?" She almost looks amused. Had I said that too quickly?

I look around, making sure the coast is clear. Or at least that no other Domme is gonna walk by the moment I lean in to say something private to my… girlfriend. Wow, she really does not feel like my girlfriend. Let me tell you, though, I would give anything, from a fortune to my right leg, to kiss her.

"Can we talk?"

Her expression remains unchanged. This feisty Domme is going to be the end of me. Because I can't even imagine her getting down on her knees, pleasuring me, and asking me to fuck her all night. This is not the type of woman who would do that. Kathleen Allen would never. Only Katie would, and she's nowhere in this club tonight.

I can still remember what it's like to enter her. To hear her moans. To feel her climax on my everything, clutching me inside her until I'm too exhausted to exist for her.

Kathleen glances at my crotch. "I don't have time. The shit I have to say to you would take an eternity to get through."

I have no idea if that's good or bad. Maybe neither. Maybe both.

"All I'll say is that… well, I'm not angry with you, Ira. I've missed you."

Nope. Not daring to answer, even though I would love to get on my knees and start groveling. "Shit, shit, I've missed you too! Let's go back to my place and tell each other how much we've been missed!" The fact that her sudden departure from the country is the reason we've missed each other escapes my mind for a moment.

"Even though I've missed you, now is not the time to sort our shit out."

Our shit?

"Take care, Ira." By some stroke of luck, she puts her hand on my shoulder before she walks away. "I'll see you at the hotel on Monday."

She kicks herself off the wall, arms still crossed but eyes not pointing to the floor. She's confident, regardless of her feelings for me. Shit, it's that confidence that originally attracted me to her. Maybe I didn't know it at the time, but it's a definite truth. My love for Katie grew from a germ as small as an ounce of her confidence.

Not just because she's a feminine Domme, either, but because she's the type of woman to go out and get what she wants… and I admire that. Am attracted to that.

"I've missed you too…" I say loud enough for her to hear. "My darling."

Kathleen looks at me with a depraved grin and joins a woman coming from the bathroom.

I go back to Jem. The girls are gone. So are we, as soon as our drinks are finished.