Eva rolls her eyes. “Yes, you’ve told me.” She takes my wineglass and goes to refill it already. She then motions for me to join her on the couch in front of the TV.

I know I’ve told her. I was so on cloud fucking nine after Friday that I had to share with the world. Not just what happened with my presentation. Although that’s the only thing I’ve talked about to people. But, you know… Ian…

The way he just took me. The man was so turned on… by me. By my dominant personality. He may have plastered me against the wall and speared me with his cock as if I were going to get away from him, but holy fuck, I instigated it with my kickass abilities.

If that doesn’t make a girl feel good about herself, then I don’t know what does!

And like that, I’m back to imagining that man strung up on my bed, his thick, cut cock in my mouth as I bring him to the edge with my tongue and then deny him orgasm. I want his balls so blue that he’s begging me to do whatever I want to him.

No, I haven’t talked to Ian since that day. I haven’t felt the urge to. I don’t know when I’ll see him again, now that the presentations are over, but as soon as we get news from the council, you bet your ass I’m ringing him up and claiming my bet.

“You haven’t said a damn thing about your latest purchases.” Eva is flipping through channels, looking for something to watch, but there doesn’t seem to be anything good on. “Don’t tell me you’ve gone a whole two months without buying a huge strap-on or something.”

I laugh. Oh my fuck, imagining the look on Ian’s face if I… “I haven’t bought anything recently, no. To be honest, I haven’t done much playing at all. Just some casual hookup sex here and there.”

“That’s too bad. On both accounts.”

“Please. A girl will take a hard cock on a hot body when she can get it, whether she dominates it or not.”

“I suppose. Except most of the fun for me comes from taking charge. Easier to do in casual sex with women than with men, I’m guessing.”

Yes, Eva, I’ve heard that a hundred times. That you have problems finding women who are both into submission and pussy. Instead you’re happy to find pillow-biting lesbians who are happy to take your strap-on whether it comes with a hard spanking beforehand or not. I have to keep another laugh to myself.

“I’ve been phasing that stuff out of my apartment anyway,” I say, wineglass at my lips. “I don’t play much at my place, so it’s in the way. Instead I’m turning that cabin in the mountains into my getaway play paradise.”

My mother owns this large cabin not too far from here. Before she gave up and moved to Europe to “soothe her nerves,” she used that cabin as her getaway. She still technically owns it, although I’m putting aside money here and there to buy it from her so she’s rid of it and I get to keep it. Right now she lets me use it whenever, and I’m using it to create my own BDSM haven. Everything is what I like. Whatever gets me in the mood.

Hm. You think Ian will let me take him there to fuck with him?

I’m settled quite comfortably into Eva’s couch, the channels changing on the big screen in front of us. There’s some glare from the window, but it’s nothing. There’s glare everywhere in this huge studio. Technically Eva lives in her family home out of the city, but she rents this place to have somewhere to crash – and right now, to get away from her lovey-dovey brother.

She lands on a local business channel, and hovers there, because we’re so used to watching it for five minutes at a time to keep abreast of the news.

Wouldn’t you know it? Dominic Mathers is on TV, making a live announcement to the types of people who would care about what he has to say.

“Wait,” I say, putting my hand on Eva’s to keep her from changing the channel. “I think this is about The Grand.”

Sure enough, the headline on the screen reads, “The Grand’s Fate Decided.”

“It’s with great happiness,” Dominic begins, his salt and pepper hair handsome in the soft light of the sun, “that I can say the sale of The Grand is going forward. As of this morning we are in serious discussions with Mr. and Mrs. Andrews about a final sales price.”

“Turn it up,” I say. Eva knows when to obey.

“Furthermore,” Dominic continues, the cameras of the local press flashing in his face, “we have been given the blessing of the community council to go ahead with our restoration with the intent of returning The Grand to its former, hospitable glory…”

Eva turns the channel.

“Tough luck, lady.”

My throat is dry no matter how much wine I drink. Nope. I’m choosing not to hear any of that. Not even after I phone my father right away and wait five rings for him to answer.

“Did you see the news?” I ask him.

“Sweetie,” he begins, and I already know it’s bad news. “You did a fantastic job Friday. I’m really proud of you and look forward to seeing what else you can do…”

“Did you see?”

He chokes on a word. “It has nothing to do with your abilities, Kat. It makes more sense to do the hotel first…”

No, he doesn’t understand. How can he? Is his sexual fate tied to this sort of thing? Hardly! Oh my God!

I’ve lost the bet. When I hang up, dumbfounded, the first thing I see on my phone is a text message from no other than Ian Mathers.

Gulping, I open and read it.

“How about that? Bend over, Kathryn.”

Chapter 19

IAN

I don’t care how necessary it is in the business world, if there’s anything I hate with such great tedium that my teeth hurt, it’s negotiations.

And when it comes to buying things for multiple millions, it’s fucking 24/7 negotiating.

Like I said a few days ago, the Andrews are asking for a stupid sum of money. We hoped that when we entered “negotiations” on Monday morning that they would be coming down to about seventy. Nope. From the moment we sat at the table, Ken Andrews said, “$80,000,000.”

The man’s an idiot. In this regard. He’s damn smart about a lot of other things.

Nevertheless, we have to play the game. The Grand is probably worth about half that. We already have an inspector and an appraiser in there checking things out, but it will be at least a week before we hear back. Doesn’t help that the Andrews have the upper hand, as well. This is an incredibly public transaction. The whole city knows about it. People know that my father and I want to buy, It’s only a matter of how much money the Andrews can squeeze out of us.

“Seventy,” my father says. No way we’re even going that high.

And yet, here we are! We’ve begun this massive charade.

I let my father do most of the talking. He’s the negotiator in the family. If he needs it, he’ll bring in the bigger guns – my mother. She knows how to charm people like the Andrews. She’ll sashay in with her sexy dresses and bright red lips, bypassing Ken and going straight for Lana’s juggler.

“Come on, lovely, cut us a break. We know how much you wanna sell…” I can picture it. Gag. Gaaag.

We haven’t reached those levels of desperation yet. Besides, my father doesn’t want to put my mother through that. They may be divorced, but they’re still friendly.

Whatever that means these days.

Take, for instance, my relationship with Kathryn. We’re friendly. Yeah. Friendly. Even before all this bullshit with the sex and bets and whatnot, our banter was laced in a mutual understanding. We were sore about what happened against that wall ten years ago, but it’s not like we made our business decisions based on it. Far from it. It was more like… let’s avoid each other, if we can help it. Avoid the embarrassment. In public, however, we were friendly to each other.