Page 242 of The Dommes

Somewhere in the distance, my mother’s voice is baying for Kathleen and me to come join the family for cocktails in the salon. She’s gone through great pains putting this intimate party together in celebration of the six-month anniversary since I pinned Kathleen against a wall and certifiably lost my mind.

I suppose it’s the least we could do to make an appearance.

“Champagne?” I ask, taking a bottle out of the basket I brought out to the field. Kathleen and I are hiding on the edges of the lawn sprawling behind my family’s house. Ever since my mother semi-moved back in, however, she’s been pressuring her ex-husband-turned-main-squeeze to put in a flower garden. If they get remarried, that will probably be in the prenup.

Kathleen holds up the glass I handed her. “Fill me up.”

I hold in an immature snort. “Don’t I always?”

It’s quiet out here. Some birds, the breeze in the trees, and something that sounds like a deer trampling in the woods behind us. This is the first warm day we’ve had in a long time. It’s also the first real break either of us has had since I moved on to the next project upstate and Kathleen opened the museum in The Ace.

Kathleen is gorgeous in a cream-colored dress that hugs her figure and blends in nicely with her hair, worn down to keep her neck warm from the chilly breeze. Her tight-covered legs draw up on our blanket. I’d say we were having an impromptu picnic, but when I decided we needed to escape our families, I only had this blanket and a basket full of booze to keep us dry and warm.

We’re only going to be out here for about twenty minutes, but I needed privacy with my girlfriend. There’s a hole burning in my pocket, and it’s not because of money. It’s because of a box I never thought I’d be carrying around a few months ago.

“I love our families, but…” Katie downs half her glass of champagne as I rest my head on her shoulder. “They are tiring. If your mother asks me one more time if we’re having a healthy sex life, I will slap her, Ira.”

I shake my head and pour her more champagne. “She’s smitten with you. And the things we could one day do with our wombs. I’ve never seen her like this before.”

“She’s convinced we’re not only having babies, but I’m due to give birth at any time. She does know you’re not anatomically equipped to knock me up, right? Like, the Avalon hasn’t come out with that model yet.”

“She likes children.” I drink some champagne, enjoying the bubbly sensation in my throat and stomach. “My father said that he had no problem with me adopting. As long as there’s one grandkid to spoil someday, I don’t think my mother will care where or whom it came from.”

Kathleen gives me a look. One that I know means, “We are not going there.”

“Yes, of course.” I kiss her cheek. “Ignore my mother. If you start some other topic, she’ll go along with you.”

“Oh, I know, bless her. I’ll bring up a desire to learn how to play chess.”

“Brother.” I rub her thigh. “I could teach you how to beat her at her own game.” Me, Katie, a chess board… sounds like a good way to pass a rainy Sunday afternoon. If we’re not having sex, that is.

I still can’t believe it’s been six months. In that time, not only has my family opened up one of the most successful hotels downtown, but I’ve ended up with this bewitching woman as the love of my life. Every time I look at her, I feel a renewed energy coursing through me. Kathleen isn’t only stunning. She’s the smartest, wittiest woman I know. She’s strong, brave, and independent. Many are intimidated by that. Not me. I’m turned on by that.

Especially when she lets her guard down, letting me see the vulnerable side of her that she shields from the world. Nothing makes me feel more loved than that.

Fuck me. Love.

“You’re ornery,” Kathleen mumbles as I start feeling her up, my lips squeezing her skin.

“No, I’m in love. There’s a slight difference.”

How other people perceive us doesn’t matter anymore. Everyone who matters already knows. If they have a problem, well, fuck ‘em. Kathleen’s lamented that a couple of her old Domme friends won’t talk to her anymore, and that was rough… I don’t like seeing her feel down, especially over something as petty as people treating her like that because she’s in a relationship with me, a fellow Domme.

I like to think we’ve found a good balance. She’s comfortable with me, and I’ve become more comfortable with the rough way she can love on me too. It’s not so bad, giving up control sometimes. The hardest part for both of us was realizing that the other person doesn’t give a shit. We don’t change in the other’s eyes. We don’t lose respect. We’re the same people as always.

God, I love her. If we broke up and I found myself the kind of sub I used to think I wanted, I… well, I don’t think I’d be happy for long. There’s a reason I always broke it off after a few weeks at most. They couldn’t give me everything I wanted.

I want a feisty woman who knows what it’s like to switch. A woman who will help me explore my own fantasies I never knew I had, whether I’m Topping or it’s all vanilla.

Or other things, I guess.

“Katie,” I say, conjuring the courage I need to go through with this. “I’m glad we’ve made it six months.”

She clinks her glass against mine. “Here’s to six and many more. You’re mine, Mathison. I think you’ll find it difficult for me to ever let you go.”

“The feeling is mutual.”

I reach into my pocket, her eyes burning in curiosity. When I pull out the little black box, she nearly chokes on her champagne.

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