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Aw, that was almost sweet!

“Or maybe you want something else.” I look her up and down, grinning, watching the way her knees buckle every time I use this tone of voice. “There’s a reason you got so pissed at Ira. If this were about the name thing, you would be over it by now. Not this vindictive. No, you clearly feel like you’re missing out on something else. What was it, Stephanie?” I’m uncomfortably close to her, my breath hitting her skin, warming her, making her shudder beneath my shadow. “Did you like the taste you got from her? Did you like the way she pushed you against that wall and showed you how enbies do it? Because I know how good that feels too.”

Her lips curl into a sneer, but she doesn’t say anything.

“You wanted her to dominate you. You wanted to go deeper into the lifestyle with her. I’m sorry you didn’t have that chance, but you need to let it go. Unless…” I raise my eyebrows, inspecting her body, hilariously similar to mine. Never let it be said that Ira Mathison doesn’t have a type, and not just blond. “What you want from us is more of that domination.”

“What do you mean us?”

“Oh, you poor child.” Her skin is hot with fever as I stroke her cheek with my knuckles. “You don’t get her without me. We’re a couple. We do everything together. Obnoxious, right?”

I don’t look over my shoulder to see how Ira’s reacting. I know damn well how. I remember how she acted at the Manoir. She about died watching me dominate a more than willing sub, let alone a bratty one.

To this very moment, I maintain I’m not into femmes like me. I don’t mind the idea of a lipstick-type being sexy for me once in a while. In my kinky lifestyle, it’s going to happen. Those opportunities, that is. But I am much too happy with my relationship with mascs – let alone my masc– to ever think too hard about it. Yet I don’t feel disgusted when I haul Stephanie into a kiss.

All three of us die. Stephanie, because she wasn’t expecting it. Me, because I didn’t think she would be so soft and malleable. Ira, because ahahaha do I have to tell you why? She probably thinks it’s her birthday up in here.

Well, now I know what to get the one who has everything for her birthday.

When I push her away from me, Stephanie stumbles backward, landing on my couch and sliding down to the floor. It’s ridiculous how she moves as if she’s a ragdoll punched in the gut. I don’t move. Ira doesn’t say a thing, although she’s suppressing one of her dumb, arrogant grins.

Stephanie wipes her mouth with her hand. I find my purse and pull out my checkbook.

“How much do you want?”

She no longer has ferocity in her eyes. At first, I’m not sure what it is. Then I garner – it’s probably lust. Stephanie May is an easy woman to figure out. I was right when I pinned her real beef with Ira was that she teased her with hot domination and then kicked her to the curb. For me, no less. I’m not going to apologize for that. She could have gone back to Midnight and found her a new dominant instead of being a vindictive jerk. She can be happy with some money, like any good red-blooded American.

“How about $200,000?” I write out a check to her. “That would be like if you kept blackmailing me for four more months. Should be enough to get you back on your feet, wherever you go. Pay off some Hollywood producer to put you in an indie movie that makes people like you again. Assuming, of course, you can act.” I laugh as I hold the check over her head.

“Nah, Katie,” Ira says behind me. “She’ll want more than that. She’s the type of woman who can’t be fed on mere money alone.”

“You’re right.” I snatch the check back before Stephanie grabs it. “She wants other kinds of fulfillment, not just money.” To her horror, I rip the check in half, letting the pieces sprinkle on top of her. Her cheeks flush pink. Her nipples keep hardening. This is too easy.

The more I realize she’s getting turned on by my attitude, the more I imagine her being batted around like a cat toy between Ira and me.

“What is it?” I kneel next to her. The Stephanie who stormed into my apartment would have lashed out. Maybe slapped me. Now she’s merely looking away, drawing her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. “Is this turning you on, Stephanie?”

“No.”

“Are you sure? Because I think you’re thinking about Ira fucking you, and me spanking you a little.”

I give her a taste of that. Not the fucking or tit slapping, but a pinch to her arm that says, “You’re my submissive, and you will obey me.”

Stephanie bites her lip and lets out the unmistakable whine of sexual frustration.

She’s probably got a lot of demons inside her. How can she not, when she’s done what she has to achieve her dream? I don’t even doubt she’s done things that disgust her, both sexually and emotionally. I’ve heard the horror stories. Of course, I’m not going to bring those up. That would be tasteless and do nothing but fuel my sense of vengeance. I’m not like that.

I am, however, sympathetic, especially since I know what it’s like to keep a million confessions bottled up inside.

I take my phone out of my purse and send off a curt text message. Ira’s watching me but doesn’t say anything. The response I get is exactly what I wanted.

We’ve got half an hour.

Chapter 82

Kathleen

“Don’t make them so tight,” Ira scolds me, pushing my hands out of the way so she can finish the knot herself. “You’re going to cut off circulation to her hands. You want her suing us?”