“Since when are you unavailable?” James 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, man. Be that way.”

After politely smiling and nodding my head to the ladies, I get up and excuse myself to the restroom.

I don’t go to the restroom.

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

“Ian.”

This place is so dark in some corners that I barely see Kathryn 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… Kathryn.” 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. Valerie’s told me that Anita’s broken down crying from all the work more than once. Kathryn 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 James. He’s leaning in, telling them about the best Doms 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 end of me. Because I can’t even imagine her getting down on her knees, sucking my cock, and asking me to come inside her. This is not the type of woman who would do this. Kathryn Alison would never .Only Katie would, and she’s nowhere around this club tonight.

I can still remember what it’s like to enter her. To hear her moans. To feel her climax on my cock, clutching it inside her and massaging it until I can’t hold in my seed any longer.

Kathryn glances at my crotch. Great.

“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, Ian. I’ve missed you.”

Nope. Not daring to answer, even though I would really 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, Ian.” 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 confidant, 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 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, or at least I hope. “My darling.”

Kathryn looks at me with a depraved grin and joins a woman coming out of the bathroom.

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

Chapter 17

KATHRYN

Let me tell you about this past month.

The moment I walked out on Ian in that restaurant, frustrated, confused, and definitely heartbroken because he’s as dense as the ocean, I made the decision to sort out what it is I wanted before talking to him outside of work. The only way I could do that was by removing myself physically from the situation.

Could not remove myself emotionally, as I quickly found out the moment I stepped off the plane in Berlin and saw an airport attendant who looked a lot like Ian. Spoke German, but you know, doppelgangers aren’t going to be 100% the same.

I went into the nearest bathroom and fucking cried.

Wish I could tell you that I spent the whole fortnight visiting my mother. Telling her what’s going on. Getting hugs and jokes and some cookies from the local bakery. To be fair, there was a stellar shop on the corner of the street my mom’s townhouse is on. But I only got to visit it twice, because I stayed with her for four days. I was going to spend the whole trip there, but she largely ignored me and the neuroses of her housekeeper sent me screaming into the German streets.

So, I took my chances doing a bit of traveling. Berlin. Stockholm. London. I avoided Paris like the plague, even though I’ve usually enjoyed trips there, because of the baggage associated with the City of Romance. While on one hand I didn’t get to talk to people much outside of hotel hospitality, I did get a clean, shiny new environment to think about what it is I want from my life.

Being thousands of miles away from the man you love has all sorts of fucked up consequences on you. For one, well, you’re away from the man you love. You swear that you can feel his heart beating in bed with you… an ocean away. You think you hear his voice calling you from the bedroom when you’re in the shower. And you want to strangle every man calling a woman Catherine, Cat, or heaven forbid, Katie.

On the other, having that distance allows you to stand back and take a hard look at your life choices.

They say you can’t help who you fall in love with. No matter your preferences, who you actively go looking for, or the kind of people you surround yourself with, you’re probably falling in love with the last person you expected.

Until a few months ago, I always assumed I would either marry a “normal” man, or a bedroom-sub. I don’t want a lifestyle Dom/sub relationship, on either end. I had fun during my stint with Ian wearing the collar almost 24/7, but that’s not for me in the long run. I can’t give up that kind of control for so long.

And that brings me here, standing in my apartment on Sunday night after returning to America. I saw Ian tonight. At the Dark Hour, when I went there with some of my old friends, all Dommes. It was fun being around my usual brethren again. I was reminded of the thrills, the fun, the passion we could instill in one another, especially when some male subs stopped by and entertained us with their witty tongues and promises of pleasure. Eva and I were the only ones who didn’t go home with one of them. Not Eva’s cup of tea, and I’m not sure if I’m still seeing Ian. It felt like cheating.

After seeing him? After hearing him call me his darling? I now wonder if it was wrong to ignore all the texts he sent me when I first left that restaurant.

I’m sure he’s thought of me as much as I’ve thought of him. I think of him as I pour myself an Old Fashioned, the drink I had when we made that bet. I think of him as I feed Sinéad, petting her soft fur and thanking God she’s over her kitten-diarrhea phase. I even think of Ian as I wash off my heavy makeup and let down my hair.