Now that we’ve had sex… twice? Shit, we’re past friendly. We’re practically melting in each other’s arms when we’re in the same room. I think. I haven’t seen Katie since we hooked up in an empty room on Friday.

Fuck, that was so good.

It makes winning our stupid, drunken bet bittersweet. I’ll tease her about it, but I don’t expect her to put out. It was a bet. We were drunk. Whatever. I’m content with never bringing it up again. I mean, if I lost by some stroke of shit luck, I would never go crawling to her with a leash in my mouth. Ha! So why would I expect that from her?

I make dumb bets when I’m drunk, but I know when to cut them off. So I won. Whatever. As beautiful as it would be to pin that woman down and make her mine, I will hold off. There are other ways to court her.

Oh, don’t you see? I’m making my peace with the fact that I want her again. And again.

I don’t know how to approach her about it yet. Suggesting, hey, maybe we should have something casual until we end up in “real” relationships with other people? We’re not going to “play,” as much as I want to. But I need to get that out of my head. Kathryn’s a Domme. And no matter how close we may skirt to her begging for my cock, it’s not going to be in the way I ultimately like. Doesn’t mean I don’t want to keep sticking it in her, however.

Or take her out on a real date.

Or invite her into my home for wine and sex.

It could work. Keep it simple. Couple times a month. We might run into each other with other partners at The Dark Hour. Maybe I’ll watch her and she’ll watch me. Once in a while we’ll hook up when we can’t take it anymore. Yes, I think I’d like that.

How to ask her, though? I think the best way would be to seduce her a third time and then bring it up when we’re post-climax and she’s thinking about how good I feel both in and on her.

I mean, it wouldn’t work as a relationship, but it could work casually, right?

Shit, I’m supposed to be paying attention to this meeting.

We are nowhere near reaching an agreement by the end of the long day. Valerie’s fingers are going to fall off from all the notes she’s taking. She mentions her husband and toddler and how much she wishes to get home to them. I don’t blame her. She just came back from maternity leave a few months ago. Our company is generous with it, but it was still less than a year. She wants to be with her son and husband, who works from home so he can take care of the baby. They’re a sweet family. I feel bad returning Valerie all frazzled, but what can I do? This is capitalism. This is business.

This is… something strange I feel.

I still haven’t shaken those endorphins from Friday. You know, the ones that say I love Katie and want to tell her so. This is what has led me to making decisions about asking her to be my casual partner.

I’m home by seven, weary and tired of listening to other people. Once my father has a hand on the negotiations, I’ll be left to talk to the designers and contractors about what we want to do first with The Grand. We’re going to be speedy about the whole thing, but it will take weeks nonetheless. Weeks I’ll be working my ass off and needing lots of stress relief.

Odds are good that I’ll need to find a semi-permanent sub during those times to keep the edge off. Not even Katie will help after a while.

Fuck, Katie.

Kathryn, I mean. I can’t let her be “Katie” until she’s in my presence and we have some privacy. Gotta keep some distance between us.

It’s as if the universe is listening to me. Not five seconds later, my phone buzzes with a message from her.

I never received a reply to my playful banter yesterday. Who knows why. Maybe she’s mad. Maybe she’s busy. Maybe she couldn’t think of something witty to retort with. Could be any number of things, but most likely this is what I’ve been waiting for.

My chance.

“Don’t know what you could possibly be talking about.”

Before I can think of anything to tease her with, I hit the call button, sit back, and let my overinflated sense of self-worth take over.

“Yes?” Kathryn’s voice nearly shakes. What in the world am I interrupting?

“Am I bothering you?” I ask coolly, sitting in my favorite chair with my leg draped over my knee. “I can call back later if now is a bad time.”

Kathryn isn’t an easy woman to seduce, really, but I keep my tone flirtatious so she knows this isn’t about business. Well, not that kind of business. The other kind. The fun kind.

“Now is fine. Don’t have much to do at the moment since somebody took my job.”

“Sorry about that. If it makes you feel better, they’ve got us by the balls in negotiations.”

I don’t get a response.

“I’m calling because we have something to discuss.”

Still, silence.

“I think you know what I’m talking about.”

She clears her throat, and I imagine her sitting at home, whatever it looks like. I figure Kathryn would have an impeccable place full of clean lines and feminine accents. So, lots of white, bright colors, and some navies to balance it all out. Marble tiling. Leather furniture. Frilly lace on the curtains. I don’t care about that. I care about what her bed looks like. Furthermore, I care about how I look in her bed. Think I’ll have a chance of finding out soon?

“I know what you want, Ian.”

Good. Because I want you, Katie. I’m smiling to myself thinking of how I should say it. “Let’s discuss it over dinner.” Her, me, a candlelit dinner in my favorite Italian restaurant. I’ll have to get us the private suite, assuming that blasted Ethan Cole hasn’t reserved it every night for the next millennia. Do you know how hard it is to get that room? They should name it after him. Build a different room for the rest of us billionaires, because we’re not getting his scraps anytime soon.

Ahem.

“Dinner?”

I’ve piqued her interest. Yes, Katie, I’m asking you out on a date. I’m going to pour you wine instead of letting the server do it. I’m going to brush my hand against your arm and my foot against your leg. I’m going to entice you to put your hand on my thigh again, because I like it when you do that. God, I want to eat you up. Eat you out. Whatever.

“Yes. How about this Wednesday?” It’s the one day this week the Andrews are too busy to negotiate. Seems like a safe bet. “I’ll make the reservations. I’ll even come pick you up.”

“Wednesday… that’s soon.”

“Is there a problem?”

“No.” She’s trying to keep her resolve, but I feel her loosening. Am I seducing you that easily, Kathryn? “I’m free Wednesday evening.”

“Let’s say seven.” We need to have dinner early if I’m going to use most of that night to explore every inch of her body. God willing. It’s about time I take, my uh, time discovering what kind of crevices a beauty like Kathryn has hidden beneath her clothes. I’ve taken way too many detours to her thighs and breasts the last two times.

“Seven. Okay. Should I dress…?”

“Dress? Dress however you usually dress to a restaurant.” I’m sure it will be fine. Kathryn is the type to have a closet full of designer clothes in various fashions. She’ll look great in anything she wears, and always be appropriate.

Until I rip her clothes off at my place, anyway. Or we could go to hers. I really don’t care.

I want to be inside her again. To smell the nape of her neck and the shampoo in that soft hair. I’m getting tingles thinking about it. I know what I’m doing in my shower after this…

“Ian,” she suddenly begins. I don’t care how many times she interrupts my thoughts. Spending time with her is always better than my fantasies. “I agree. We need to talk. Talk.”

“Of course. See you then?”

“Sure.”

“I’ll text you any details before then. Oh, and Katie?” It feels so good letting that name roll off my tongue. “I’m looking forward to our time together.”