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I know by now that Ira will quiver no fewer than four times. The first tentative, a warning. The second is the hardest, coating my tongue and stealing my breath if I’m not ready. Then the third arrives, everything that couldn’t be expressed before now on my mouth. The fourth one is the very last drop of her sanity. I take all of her, letting it purge my soul and claim my tongue, her taste so, so strong.

As she relaxes into her seat, I back away, fingers toying with her zipper. My fingers spread across her abdomen, painting her with sex, my signal that I want her to give me some affection.

She does. A simple rub on the head, fingers brushing against my cheek as she pushes my hair out of the way.

When I’m satisfied with my handiwork, I sit up, letting my covered lips touch her throat as she zips back up. She doesn’t stop me. Ira isn’t shy, unlike some I’ve been with.

“Shit, Katie.” She lets me rub her unrestrained chest and suck lightly on her throat, her hand touching my arm and leg. “That was amazing.”

I nibble her ear. Short brown hair tickles my nose. Hair that smells so good. I don’t know what products she puts in it, but I hope she never stops. “I love it when you call me Katie.”

Her mouth turns to mine, and she tastes herself on my lips. “I love calling you Katie.”

“I need something to call you.”

There’s a growl in the corner of my mouth. “I can think of something.”

Mistress. I bet that’s it. Does she feel me grimace? “Not tonight, Ms. Mathison.”

“That works, too.”

To the sounds of a lovely crescendo down on the stage, Ira kisses me with such passion that I practically melt in her arms.

It feels so good being safe in her embrace.

“Let’s get out of here,” she whispers. “I want to take you back to my place and do all sorts of things with you.”

I giggle, letting her see a more delicate side of me, but I don’t forget her promise from earlier.

She has plans for me.

A part of me is filled with dread. The other is filled with lustful anticipation, and I follow her out of the balcony, thinking about taking her hand into mine.

I don’t.

Chapter 34

Ira

I’m already drunk on this woman, and I’ve barely pulled her into the elevator to kiss her.

Doesn’t matter that I don’t get to dominate her tonight. That can come later. At present, I only see her as this stunning creature that makes me lose my whole fucking mind.

I’ve been with women I can’t keep my hands off of. I’ve been with women who make me come undone in such mesmerizing ways. What I haven’t been with are women who make me completely forget who I am because I’m so consumed by who they are.

Their crevices. Their beauty. Their intriguing thoughts and what drives them to do what they do. I’ve been on the precipice of those cliffs with other women, but this is my first time thinking her name over and over in my head as I explore everything that makes her her.

She’s pinned against the elevator, mouth all over mine as her legs wrap around me. Her breasts are pushed up in her dress, taunting me. I want her. I want her like I’ve wanted so many other women, yet I’m discovering that every inch of her is something I want to know better.

The moment my lips leave a spot, I want to kiss it again. My mouth is so confused because, like a dumbass, I’m making it try to do a thousand things at once.

This wasn’t part of my plan for her. I need to calm myself down.

No, what I need is to taste her.

By the time the elevator doors open to my floor, I’ve composed myself, and Katie’s smoothed out her hair and dress. I wrap my arm around her waist and direct her toward my door. We’re greeted by Saoirse, who hasn’t been fed in hours – and that’s a crime to any cat.

“Poor baby.” Kathleen bends down to pet my dying feline as I take care of her dinner. Not exactly how I want to be spending the first few seconds in my condo. “Poor baby. Mommy didn’t feed you.”