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The couple shares a couch with Jem and Gwenyth. Without being told to, Monique orders drinks from a server. It’s not assertive. She’s the type of woman to take a server to the side, whisper her order, and then rejoin her Domme, content with the service rendered. She’s looking pretty smug as she perches on the edge of Helen’s lap, and I can’t blame her. Especially with a rock like that twinkling on her hand.

I look at Kathleen’s hand. She’s not wearing any rings. For a half-hearted minute, I consider buying her a ring. Not an engagement ring, hell no. A simple thing she can wear on any finger and be reminded of me when she looks down. Something to wear aside from the collar…

…Which she touches now, looking at Monique, who wears an understated collar to go with her outfit. I’ve seen her real one. A huge gaudy thing made of silver and diamonds. Not very practical on common nights out. Not that they’re the most practical couple around.

Kathleen and Monique exchange looks. I’m caught in between. The woman knows from the Manoir that Kathleen and I are at least an item. What she doesn’t know, however, is that Kathleen is acting as my sub.

Or at least until now. Because I am under no delusion that Monique doesn’t know now. She won’t stop gazing at Kathleen or the inconspicuous collar around her neck. I know we’re fucked when she looks at me with that knowing smile.

Thankfully, she doesn’t lean in toward Helen’s ear. She would never. She wants to stay on our good side. I don’t know what it means, though.

More drinks are poured. Kathleen downs hers quickly, and I feel weird asking her to top off my drink before Monique has the chance. Nobody pays Katie mind as she serves me a drink.

“You okay?” I whisper as Jem and Helen are distracted by a mutual friend.

She shrugs. “I’ve been worse…”

Yes, and things are about to get even worse. Because what is a party without the Anderssens showing up to fuck with shit?

Shouts of greetings go up, and even I’m caught up in the fray as Lara and Kennedy practically shove Kathleen into my lap so they can share our couch. That wouldn’t be so bad if it weren’t for the look of horror crossing my poor Katie’s face.

I wrap my arm around her anyway. This place is getting so packed that hardly anyone would notice us being cozy anyway. Or at least I hope.

“Do they have to be here?” she asks.

I pat her shoulder. “Do you want to go?”

Shock covers her complexion. “And be seen leaving together?”

We look over in time to find Helen and Monique eyeing us suspiciously.

I don’t fear that anyone here is going to out us as a couple. Not to mention, I have nothing to lose from people deducing that Kathleen is not only my girlfriend but my sub. Yeah, I have nothing to lose. I am fully aware that Kathleen has a reputation to protect, especially in this club. She’s not an established switch like Lara Anderssen is, and my fellow full-time Dommes can be… a judgmental bunch around here. Especially the not-exclusively sapphic ones like Jem, Helen, and me.

I don’t know what our end game here is anymore. When I imagined bringing my love here, I saw us relaxing alone – maybe chatting to a couple of people, but mostly alone – taking in a show, or perhaps escaping to a back room when nobody is looking. They’ve got toys here that I don’t, and I think Kathleen might like them.

This is our last night like this. I want to make the most of it.

Instead, we’re hanging out with kinky couples and trying not to look too much like one ourselves. Kathleen sure as hell isn’t relaxing against me. Too bad. I would love a snuggle.

“How are the renovations coming?” Kennedy asks after her second drink. She has to yell to be heard over the rabble of the busy club on a Saturday night. “When does the hotel open?”

“Six weeks!” My voice is going to die at this rate.

“Six weeks?” Jem laughs on the other side of the table. “This has to be the fastest remodel in history.”

“You’d think so, right?” These people also knew the answer to that question. Invitations for the opening ball went out a month ago.

Lara sends a wicked smile in my direction. “Maybe you guys should get some great entertainment for the ball. Like this shit about to go on stage.”

I haven’t even looked at the stage in thirty minutes. It was closed off and empty for so long that it didn’t seem pertinent to strain my vision. Now that I’m looking, I see a Domme dressed in a black corset and knee-high boots. She’s got a whip in her hand and black makeup all over her face.

Her blond ponytail makes me think of Katie. She tightens in my hold.

“Brace yourself, my dear,” Lara says, patting her spouse’s chest. “I know how much you love a good Domme going to town on a sub. Even if they’re male.”

“Think it’s too much to ask for some pegging?”

“I think that only happens on Fridays, dear.”