Contents

Title Page

Copyright

Keep Up

FIGHT YOU

1: IAN

2: KATHRYN

3: KATHRYN

4: KATHRYN

5; IAN

6: KATHRYN

7: IAN

8: KATHRYN

9: IAN

10: KATHRYN

11: KATHRYN

12: KATHRYN

13: IAN

14: IAN

15: KATHRYN

16: KATHRYN

17: IAN

18: KATHRYN

19: IAN

20: IAN

21: KATHRYN

22: IAN

23: KATHRYN

24: IAN

25: KATHRYN

26: KATHRYN

Thanks And Connect

Also Available

FIGHT YOU

Dom Vs. Domme #2

Cynthia Dane

BARACHOU PRESS

FIGHT YOU

Dom Vs Domme #2

Copyright: Cynthia Dane

Published: October 30th, 2015

Publisher: Barachou Press

This is a work of fiction. Any and all similarities to any characters, settings, or situations are purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in retrieval system, copied in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise transmitted without written permission from the publisher. You must not circulate this book in any format.

Keep up with Cynthia’s latest releases by joining her mailing list! Behind the scenes, first looks, and even some free snippets!

READING ORDER

1: BITE ME

2: FIGHT YOU

3: SAVE US

FIGHT YOU

Chapter 1

IAN

“Watch out!”

I barely have time to move before debris falls from the ceiling. It comes with a crack, like the roof splitting in two during a thunderstorm. Except no rain comes through the second floor. Instead, I’m left standing, glad that I have a hardhat on as two construction workers peer through the hole they created.

“Uh huh.” I make a note on my clipboard. That’s the third strike against this demolition company the Andrews hired.

We’re in the middle of the sale, but we agreed to have the Andrews cover some “minor demolition” while we wait. Normally they would never dream of doing this, but then they found out that they could get a nice tax break from the city if they pitched in with some of the construction. Or destruction. Either way, I see it as that extra fifteen-million we’re paying going to some good use.

Maybe. So far these people are about as reliable as an umbrella in a wind storm.

“Valerie,” I say, turning to my assistant behind me. “E-mail my father about this. I’m pretty sure that floor wasn’t supposed to be demolished, and we’re not going to cover the cost of fixing it.” I look to Lana Andrews, taking a tour with the foreman as if nothing has happened.

I’m in limbo. In so many ways. Right now my limbo consists of waiting for the sale to close so I can go ahead with the major construction that has to go on. My father has me on an unrealistic timeline. He wants this done in three months starting from the day we get the keys. We’ve hired the best construction company in the region. Same guys who have done many of our hotels in the past, but this is going to be a challenge even with a whole team on hand. Part of the reason my father wants this done yesterday is because of the extra money we have to sink. The faster we open, the faster we can make our money back.

Somewhere in his office, my father is having a meeting with our company’s head of personnel and the woman in charge of hiring staff. He’s also meeting with our head of marketing. They both have their work cut out for them.

It’s probably going to be a disaster.

Furthermore, I’m reminded of what a mess my life is when Kathryn Alison comes scurrying through the front doors, stopping only to accept a hard hat from a worker before proceeding inside.

She’s late.

Again.

She’s supposed to be my second-hand-man (woman?) Yet twice so far this week she’s been late. First time was traffic. Second time was having to turn around and grab something at home before getting here. Third time, today? I have no idea. I’m not really in the mood for her excuses.

I am, however, in the mood for other things.

Katie’s all legs today. A fact my eyes have a hard time prying away from as she scurries in flats through the construction zone. That tight skirt she’s wearing could choke anyone, but she doesn’t exhibit any discomfort. Instead, she’s focused on me, a tight smile appearing on her face as she extends her arm to hand me a folder.

“All the signatures you needed,” she says. “I had to go clear across town to get the last one, but no one ever said I wasn’t determined.”

Ah, her excuse for today.

I flip the folder open and look at a page full of signatures. Fresh ones. These weren’t signed electronically and then emailed to Anita, Kathryn’s assistant. These look like she personally went around gathering the signatures of the community council members, as well as signatures from the community themselves.

It was the Andrews’ idea, to get these signatures of approval and then display them in the front window while construction goes on. There was blowback in the press after we were granted the go ahead to renovate The Grand into its former glory. People are worried about gentrification and such. While we perfectly are within legal rights to do what we want with this property, we can’t overlook how important it is to have the community’s blessing. Hence our desire to play nice and to get these stupid signatures.

When five seconds ago I felt like frowning at Katie and venting my displeasure for her tardiness, I can’t help but sigh in relief. “Good work. Thanks.”

“What have I missed?”

“Besides me almost dying?” I point to the worker trying to clean up the fallen debris. “Nothing. We’re taking a tour of what’s being demolished. Some walls, mostly.” Now I look up, at the hole above me that two people are trying to desperately cover up. “And whatever’s going on up there. I’m guessing someone is about to get fired.”

Kathryn shuffles between me and the debris. “Unfortunate. Isn’t that supposed to be a conference room?”

Damn, she’s more on top of things than I am. She must spend her free time studying the blueprints and 3D models. Meanwhile, I barely know where the ball room’s going. Thinking about it… is this the ball room? Can’t tell when everything’s been stripped bare and there are sheets everywhere. Dirty sheets. Disgusting.

“Careful.” I take her by the hand before she can trip over a tiny pile of rubble. “Don’t need you in the hospital.”

She looks about to scoff at me and scuttle away, but we’re both looking at our clasped hands. Katie blushes. I’m clearing my throat and trying to keep the blood from rushing to my cock. It’s not working.

Kathryn snatches her hand away. “Thanks.”

Before she can disappear on me, I tap her arm and lean in toward her ear, whispering. “We need to talk.”

“Now?”

I roll my eyes, dramatically, making sure everyone around us doesn’t mistake this sudden intimacy for anything more than me berating a coworker. “Obviously not. Let’s talk over lunch. You got plans?”

“Well, I was going to take Anita out to lunch for putting up with me today, but…”

“Find a way to ditch her. We need privacy.”

“All right.”

She’s shaking by the time I check in with the designer in charge. Not sure why Katie’s shaking. Do I intimidate her? How?