“I’m fine.” I drink more wine. “Really.”

He keeps to his side of the table, and I keep to mine. In the distance is faint piano music and the rabble of people conversing over lunches. There’s no one else in our section of the restaurant.

“Hopefully the demolition team will get their act together soon.” Ian looks at his phone, as if I’m not worthy of his attention. “My father and I aren’t in the business of cleaning up their mess. Not on our dollar, anyway.”

For some reason he keeps going on about work. I don’t know if he thinks I’m interested, but really, I’m not. I know why he’s brought me here alone. “We need to talk.” Yes. Yes we do.

“Cut the bullshit,” I interrupt. Ian looks at me with mild amusement. What a cocky, arrogant… stupidly hot man. “Let’s get down to business. Real business. Between you and me.”

Sometimes I surprise Ian with my personality. Sure, I’ve been acting like a submissive little tart around him. I don’t know why. Something about him is bringing it out of me. I don’t like it, but here we are. Deep down, I’m actually an assertive bitch who doesn’t like dealing with men’s shit. I’d rather dish it out.

Ian goes from mild shock to nearly laughing at the table. “If you insist.” He raises his wineglass to me before polishing off half the contents. “Let’s have a date Friday after work.”

“A date?’ I settle back into my seat.

The server chooses that moment to arrive with our meals. Salad for me, and baked chicken with stir-fry vegetables for Ian. When he catches me eyeballing that delicious smelling food, he carves off a piece and plops it into my salad. I say nothing. Just stare at what he’s done, as if we’re that intimate.

“What’s wrong? Vegetarian now?” His droll voice is going to get him smacked.

“Go back to the date thing. What do you mean by that?”

He leans forward, that look in his eye so telling that my thighs tremble. Fuck you, Ian, I hate what you do to me. “I mean a date, Kathryn. Don’t know if you realized it, but we have yet to go on a proper date.”

“I know that.” It’s something I’ve thought sometimes. We were supposed to go on a date a couple of weeks ago… but I stood him up like a total bitch. Only because I thought he was going to try to dominate me… and I wasn’t ready.

I’m still not. Not at this second, anyway.

“So let’s do it. Let’s go on a real date.”

“What’s this?”

“I’m not sure I would consider this a date.”

“No, guess not.” We’re only having lunch because of work. “What are we doing on this date, exactly? I want to know before I say yes.”

He’s rolling his eyes at me for the second time today. It drives me nuts, like he’s being condescending without saying a damned word. “I’m not going to spank you, Katie,” he mutters. “A vanilla date.”

Haha. A vanilla date.

“I was thinking dinner. Maybe a show if there’s something interesting to see. My family has year-round box passes at the cinema near my place. Father’s a bit of a movie buff. He and I go there a couple times a month to unwind and for him to go on about Marlon Brando and Clint Eastwood.”

I don’t say anything.

“Digress. After that?” Before I’ve picked up my fork, Ian’s hand is on mine, here, on this table. Fuck all the tingles rushing through my body. Fuck the fact he does it to me. “We’ll see where the wind takes us. Not everything has to be perfectly planned.”

“I’m sure sex is on this wind.”

“Only if you’re truly interested.” Ian shrugs. “Like I said, nothing kinky” His hand continues to curl around mine. “Sometimes a man wants things simple.”

I can hear it in his voice. That same tone he always has when he’s about five minutes away from thrusting his cock into me. I shiver. Can he feel it in my hand? Yikes. That’s the same voice he had when he first seduced me. (Or did he seduce me? I thought it was fairly equal at the time. Now? I have no idea.) Same voice from the day of our presentations, when he led me to an empty room and gave me the time of my life.

Same voice he left me with a week and a half ago, when he promised to completely dismantle my Domme brain and rebuild it into a sub’s.

I shiver again, harder.

“You all right?”

Ian is a good Dom in that he always checks in with the current mental state of his partner. Even when we’re not being kinky, he’s always asking if I’m doing okay. I should appreciate it. Except when he does it, I’m always reminded of the fact that I might not be okay. Then I get trapped in this spiral of wondering if I’m doing the right thing.

Don’t make me think too hard, Ian.

“I’m fine.” I try to say it with an even voice, but sometimes it’s hard. Around him, anyway. I have to take my hand back, picking up my fork and spearing chicken and lettuce. Something to do. That isn’t him. “Just picking apart your motives in my brain.”

He gives me a look. You know the kind. Judgmental. Uncertain. Insecure. “Motives?”

“Please. I’m not dumb.” Spinach crunches between my teeth. Now that I have food in my system, I’m able to think clearer. My senses return, and nothing Ian Mathers does can shake me off my foundation. “You’re looking at me like I’m a piece of meat. I get it, buddy, you wanna fuck me. That’s fine. That can be quite…” I look right at his crotch. “Mutual.”

This time, he’s the one not answering.

“You’re not only looking at me as a potential date. You’re not even looking at me as a potential partner of any kind. All you see is a project.”

Ian clears his throat, his food still untouched, but his wine almost gone. “What am I supposed to think? You didn’t ask me for a relationship. You didn’t ask me for a casual thing. You asked me to…” He leans forward, voice low and commanding. Nope. Not getting through to me. “You asked me to bring out your inner submissive. That’s not the other things I mentioned.”

“It sure isn’t.” Hey, this chicken’s pretty good, especially with the Italian dressing. I’m glad he gave me some, but he better eat his before it gets cold. Salmonella wouldn’t look good on him.

“What do you want from me? That’s what I really want to know.” Finally, Ian starts eating. With purpose, I might add. “You keep coming to me, asking me to do things so far out of your comfort zone that you end up screaming and crying. Asking me to go farther with you? You’re asking a lot of me. Excuse me, Katie, but I need to see you in different ways. It’s the only way something like this can work.”

“Something like this?”

“Business and pleasure. Mingling.”

He’s right. I’m asking him to see so many sides of myself – the business side, the Domme side, the sub side – that he has to separate it all before he can put me back together again. It can’t be easy on him, mentally. Physically, he probably spends his whole time thinking about fucking me.

…I’m right, aren’t I?”

“So what do you want, Katie?” He always calls me that when we’re in private like this. I haven’t decided if I like it or not. When we’re fucking, I love it. So intimate and exclusive. When we’re in a non-sexual situation? It kinda grates on me. Kathryn has a much more sophisticated ring to it, especially coming out of a man’s mouth.

“I want a lot of things, Ian.” There are no cute nicknames for him. His name is already as short as it can get, and I’m not the type to say babe or honey. “Right now I want you to back off a bit.”

He sits back in his seat, both physically and emotionally detaching himself from me. Finally, I can breathe.

After two more bites of food, I say, “All right. Date. Vanilla date. No funny Dom stuff.”

“Well, now I’m not sure I want to…”

While he’s looking at me, I pull open my blouse. Easy to do with light clasps sewn in. Once I’ve got that man staring at my breasts and bra, I say, “Pretty sure you want to.”