“She’s expecting me.”

“Even so, I must ring her up first.” He picks up a silver phone and holds a finger up to me. “One moment please.”

So here I am, standing in the lobby of Kathryn’s building, watching well-to-do people come and go as I stand off to the side of this desk and wonder what the fuck I’ve done this time to be banned from her home. I have a hard time believing she’s blocking out everyone…

Wait, she is, you say? Bullshit!

I’m rather scared to go up now.

“Ms. Alison says you may enter.” The doorman gestures to the elevator, where an operator also tips his hat and holds the door open for me. “Have a good evening, Mr. Mathers.”

I was hoping for a good evening before this happened. Sure, I’m here to ask Katie for money on behalf of my family. But I was also hoping we could… you know…

Wine. Dine. Make some love.

Except if she’s blocking me from coming right up to see her, who fucking knows.

I text her on the ride up in the elevator. When I don’t get a response, I try not to panic. The doors open. I step out into the quiet hallway and walk straight to her door.

It’s open.

The average man would assume something was wrong. Terribly wrong. The average man would panic that someone broke into Kathryn’s home and is holding her prisoner, molesting her, or dragging her off somewhere for a sweet reward.

I’m not the average man.

First of all, I hear music. Soft, powerful music coming in the form of string instruments over a stereo. The kind of music that plays when we’re trying to focus on something important. Like work. Work we do. I’ve heard Kathryn play this music on her computer when we did our projects.

Second, I smell her spicier perfume. Not the kind she wore on our dates if planning ahead.

Next, as I step into the apartment, I find myself surrounded by candles galore. Most of them electric, but some of them real and emitting scents I didn’t know were possible.

Finally, I see her.

The door latches shut behind me as I step in to Kathryn Alison’s domain. This isn’t Katie dressed in sweats and a T-shirt. She’s not even wearing a skintight dress. Nope.

She’s wearing a tailored pantsuit, sitting in the middle of her couch, legs crossed and arms spread on the edge behind her. Many times have I pulled that ponytail sticking out on top of her head. But it’s covered in black wires, her dark eye makeup searing into my soul as she curls her red lips into a man-eating smile.

Uh oh.

“Good evening,” she says with a tight voice. One leg uncurls from the other, revealing her leather boots. She’s worn those boots while submitting to me. She also wears them to the club as a Domme.

Uh oh.

If I were a captain of a ship, attempting to come into port in my hometown, I would probably start worrying. Okay, not worrying. Panicking. Imagine coming up on deck, expecting to see the sleepy docks and the people that inhabit them. Maybe it’s raining or foggy, but everything is as you left it.

Except it’s not.

Soldiers stand on the dock. Your country’s soldiers, but they’re not supposed to be there, especially not in that large of numbers. They’re all armed to the teeth. Guns are aimed at you. Canons point in the direction of your ship. Your first reaction is to man your decks, but you’re afraid that will come off as too aggressive, and you’ll be set on fire before you have the chance to anchor at the dock and kiss your wife hello for the first time in months.

You’re pretty sure you’re going to die, just not sure for what reason and how quickly. At the very least, you’re being arrested.

Handcuffed.

Strung up.

Flogged.

Yup. That’s what I feel like I’m walking into right now.

“Kathryn.” I don’t let me voice waver, but it’s struggling to not betray my reservations. “You look… intimidating.”

Her blue eyes drown in shadows. Yet the sparks I see emanating from their depths… kill me. “Intimidating? Why, thank you. Do sit down.”

I’d rather not, so I continue to stand before her. Standing is the only way I feel like I have any power right now. Kathryn is sucking it up like it’s her lifeblood.

“What can I do for you, Ian?”

This is so formal. This is so… not my Katie. The way she sits, the way she’s dressed, the way she looks at me… never mind the tone of her voice. This is the Kathryn I knew of years ago. The one I avoided for so long because she wasn’t like any woman I wanted to deal with. In fact, if I may say so…

Kathryn Alison is the type of Domme who scares the shit out of me.

The Dommes you imagine are the kind the media plays up. They wear lingerie and leather, maybe some steely boots, and walk around carrying whips while making their subs get down on their knees and God knows what. Kathryn isn’t that kind of Domme. She makes her love by dressing up like a hardcore businesswoman and taking no names. This is the type of woman who destroys a boardroom and then destroys a man’s balls.

All right, so some men get off on that. Good for them. I’d rather not.

I fling my jacket over my arm, trying to look casual, like the Ian she wants to roll around in bed with. I don’t think it’s working.

“Business. I’m here for business.” I won’t press my luck with love.

Kathryn looks between me and something beneath her nails. Is that all I am to her? Lint? Dirt? “I heard on the grapevine that one of your father’s investors didn’t come through. Is that what you’re here about?” The sharp, icy look I get would make me shake in my boots if I were wearing any.

“You heard correctly. We’re in a bit of a pickle. My father asked… well, I thought… if you would be able to help out in any way.”

No man likes to grovel for money. And let’s be honest, no man likes to grovel to the woman he loves for money. I would grovel to my mother first, but she’s been useless enough to not only deny us the funds, but to go running to Kathryn – yeah, I don’t doubt it was her.

Kathryn’s demeanor does not falter. “You want money from me.”

“More like an investment…”

“Which is money, right?”

Her plucked eyebrows look like a witch’s. Whatever. Would still fuck her.

In fact, my mind is racing with images of me putting both hands on her, turning her over on this couch, and teaching her to think twice about acting this way toward me.

I don’t dare.

“Yes. Money tends to be the form investments come in.”

Kathryn pulls her arms off the couch and sits up, elbows resting on knees and ankles pushed together. “It’s funny. I was talking to my accountant the other day. He told me that my forecast is so bright and sunny that I could retire and keep living my life the way I am… and barely see a dent by the time I die at eighty. Isn’t that something? I’m swimming in money. Fifteen million is barely a drop in my big, big bucket.”

“That’s good to hear…” Where’s the but?

She gets up, her body so alluring in her outfit that it’s taking me everything I know to not try to touch her. Why shouldn’t I? We’re dating, aren’t we? It’s fair game to touch her as I always have. To take her into my arms. To nibble on her ear and suggest we go to the bedroom and have a good time, even if it’s vanilla.

“I could give you the money. God knows my family has some stake in that place, what with us putting our name on a side-piece.” The way she slowly crosses her arms, creates a barrier between us, does not ease my nerves. “I don’t feel like it. That would be too easy… for you.”

“Excuse me?”

She steps closer, her perfume so strong that I almost gag. “You always get your way, don’t you, Ian? Since the dawn of your life you’ve never had to be more than Mr. Alpha, strutting around, taking what you want and leaving people crying in your wake. How many women have you broken the hearts of? Half a dozen? More? I would like to know some of their names one day, if you can remember them.”