I can’t remember. Partly because the man holding Stephanie’s hand is no one else but Ian Mathers, and I’m trapped between pure surprise and disgusted.
Of course he’s dating a young movie starlet. I mean, Ian is a total freakin’ playboy. Everyone knows it. He goes through girlfriends – sometimes more than one at a time – like I go through chocolate when I’m PMSing. I can’t keep track of these girls….
…Not that I am, mind you. It’s not like I care how many women he parades around, or who he gets photographed with for Page 6. He’s one of those guys who is super public with his life. Doesn’t hide from cameras. Isn’t afraid to get up and say something. He’s always been that way too. For a while he was on the student council in high school. Captain of the soccer team. He is a natural leader like that, and nobody was surprised when he started doing so well in his parents’ companies. Why wouldn’t he?
I’m the opposite. I didn’t run for anything in high school. I barely played sports past some stints at volleyball. Thing is, I was riding the coattails of my parents. There was never any doubt that I would get into the school of my choice – my dad only needed to write the right check if I couldn’t get in on my own merits. Don’t get me wrong. I got good grades. I applied myself where I felt like it. Only now I have to apply myself harder to prove to myself, my parents, and the business world that this woman can do just as well as anyone else. And then I do shit like I did this morning.
I look away from Ian and his arm candy. They’re talking to a few other people, and he’s got his arm wrapped around her like they’re gonna bone any moment. Probably will. Ian is no stranger to the private rooms in the back.
Neither am I. That’s beside the point. See, it’s okay if I sleep around. It’s totally different when he does it.
Don’t ask me why. Just… every time I see him with a woman, I’m angry. Not on a tirade, but definitely uneasy.
I’m not jealous.
Jealousy would imply I wish I were Stephanie May. Let me tell you, the type of woman who wraps herself up in a man’s arms, coos in his ear, and begs to be bent over and pummeled right in the pussy? That ain’t me. That won’t ever be me.
Excuse you, I am not protesting too much.
Chapter 4
IAN
The party is alive tonight. From the moment I walked in with Stephanie, we’ve been bombarded with slews of people who want to say hi and buy us drinks. Normally I’m the man buying the drinks. I am definitely buying Stephanie’s drink.
Let me introduce you to my date for the evening. Stephanie May is a lovely woman, and not just on the outside, although that certainly attracted me first. She’s got a model’s body. Not the kind you’re thinking about. I’m talking ‘90s model, with perky breasts and the kind of hips you want to clutch and squeeze. The way she saunters in her shimmery dress is so enticing that it’s a wonder I’m not caveman dragging her to one of the private rooms right now.
Later. She knows what this place is, although it’s her first time here. Furthermore, she knows why I brought her here.
We haven’t had sex yet. This is only our second date, the first being the night before she had an early morning movie shoot, so we didn’t get any farther than some kissing and me groping that hot ass. Don’t ask me where this ‘relationship’ is going. It’s not one yet. I’m dating around with other women, and she’s linked with some producer in the tabloids. We’re casual right now.
Casual, but I have every intention of seeing her on my cock by the end of the night.
She laughs at one of James Merange’s jokes. Her voice is mirthful, if not a bit shrill, but right now I can overlook that. Honeymoon phase, if you will.
We’re sitting in an open area. Our tables are covered in drinks. Mostly we’re lounging on leather couches and silk pillows that allow us to kick up our legs, fondle some thighs and breasts, and pretend that nobody gives a shit. Most of the sexy action is happening in the back, but up here it’s not unusual to see a woman stroking a guy’s cock through his pants or for those same women to suddenly go topless. Stephanie isn’t gonna do that, but…
Yup. Gwen’s tits are out within a half hour and two drinks on her part. James is a lucky bastard. He knows it, too, gauging how he can’t take his eyes off them and whisper shit about sucking her nipples in her ear. Get her another drink, James, and she might blow you right here in front of us.
If Stephanie is uncomfortable, she’s not letting on. I pegged her as kinky, or at least curious about kink, and tonight I hope to see how submissive she’s willing to go. I do love regular sex with the right one-night-stand. Yet if Stephanie and I are going to keep dating, I need someone who will offer me…more, if you will.
“How’d the meeting with the Andrews go today?” James asks, acting as if his girlfriend’s breasts aren’t doing anything for him. Brother, I can see what’s going on in your pants. I’m not saying I’m looking, but it’s rather hard to not notice. “Everyone’s been talking about this project of yours. And the Alison’s, I suppose.”
I sit up, dangling my drink between my legs since we’re apparently talking business now. Stephanie remains beside me, sipping her own drink and also trying to not stare at James’s erection. The only person staring at it is Gwen. Down, girl!
“I have no idea how to describe that meeting. Everything went swimmingly until Kathryn Alison botched her end of the presentation.”
“Really? That doesn’t sound like her.”
“You say that, but you don’t know her as well as I do.” We’re a bit before James’s time. I can’t remember how old he is, exactly, but he must be mid-30s. Even I’m not thirty yet. “Kathryn Alison can be a bit absentminded.” The woman is stressed out of her mind. I give her hell, but I’m not blind. She thinks she has a lot to prove, and I don’t doubt she almost threw up when her father assigned her that presentation.
“That’s too bad. Did you lose the bid?”
“No. Worse. The Andrews want to get community approval on the project, so we have to present it to a public council two weeks from now.”
“Wow. Brutal.”
“We can handle it.” By “we,” I mean my father and me. No doubt my father is talking to Spencer Alison right now about his daughter’s momentous fuckup earlier today. With any luck, Spencer will come out of semi-retirement to deal with the next presentation.
Gwen wraps her hand around her boyfriend’s thigh and whispers something in his ear. He clears his throat. I look at Stephanie, who is politely checking her phone messages from the depths of her purse.
Sure enough, within a few minutes tipsy Gwen has convinced her Dom to take her onto the empty stage in the middle of the lower gallery and play with her. I knew the woman was an exhibitionist, and I meet Stephanie’s eyes to gauge her response.
“She’s pretty,” she says, slowly scooting toward me. There’s a magnet between us. My hand goes over hers the moment Gwen gets a slap on her ass and a groan in her throat. People are cheering. Why not? Every time Gwen is spanked, her tits jiggle, and that makes everyone happy. “This place is fun.”
My date has no idea.
We stay in the gallery long enough to watch Gwen be stripped naked and have her nipples clamped. The look on her face is exquisite. Pain. Pleasure. Her undying love for her Dom as he strokes her hair before pulling it. The moans falling from her lips sound so heavenly that I can barely contain myself. I’m a man. I’m human. Between seeing that woman’s nipples harden with every spank and hearing her excitement when her Dom bites her shoulder…