Billionaires in Paris - Page 16

“No, she never mentioned you much,” I finally say, attempting to keep my demeanor relaxed and my tone friendly. It’s not easy. “Sorry?”

“No worries.” Martin orders a cocktail. Is he a lifestyle sub? If he is, then it’s quite odd he would confront me in a bar, especially without his Domme in tow. He must not be lifestyle. Honestly, male lifestyle subs at our level of success and heritage are very, very rare. Those men tend to keep that behind every closed door possible. They might be killing it in the board room, but the moment they get home, their wife or mistress becomes the ball-busting bitch they’ve been crying for their whole lives. “I’m far from being as high profile as you.”

Point #4, here we come: now he’s kissing my ass, and he knows it will have either one of two effects. The first is me being a flattered dumbass who doesn’t realize he has BB gunned me in the ass. Or I’ll go even more on the defensive. Guess which one I’m doing!

“That’s not true. You Canadians have your own social circles, I’m sure.” Don’t make a silly accent joke, Ian. Don’t make a silly accent joke…

“Hm, well, put it this way. People have heard of your family where I’m from. They haven’t heard of mine where you’re from.”

No, I can’t say that people in my hometown are much concerned with Canadian lumber. “Who are you with now?” I ask, changing the subject. “I must have missed it earlier.”

“Solange. Do you know her? Kathryn did.”

Of course Kathryn did. “I may have seen her around.”

“I told her that I had run in to you two earlier this morning. She was quite surprised. Apparently she’s so removed from that circle that she still had yet to hear that you and Kathryn are so serious. She couldn’t believe it.”

“We get that a lot.” From the crowd that runs around The Dark Hour, anyway. People are shocked that Kathryn can be happy with me, and then they assume I’m subbing with her. Because it’s totally their business what we do in the bedroom. “It’s rather unconventional.”

I want this guy to leave. I’m sure he’s a perfectly decent man, and Kathryn didn’t make it sound like it was an ugly breakup, but damn, leave me alone. “Sometimes unconventional makes for the best relationship. I guess you could color me surprised that she’s into a guy like you.” The cocktail lands in front of him right as he holds up his hands to me. I’m gonna knock him off that stool, I swear. “You know what I mean. She was always adamant with me that she doesn’t like dominant alpha men. Then next thing I hear after we break up is that she’s seeing you. If I may, you two put on quite the debut show at The Dark Hour.”

Oh my God, he was there. Does Kathryn know? That would make her even more sour than usual. She’s really self-conscious about public perception of her.

“Thanks, I suppose. We are pretty happy.”

“So those rumors in the papers about you two getting engaged are true?”

Cheeky fucking bastard. There is no surprise on his round-ass face. He’s been waiting to drop that on me since he sat down. “You know how the papers are. Always making up stories to sell more copies. The thought that a man and a woman can be seriously dating for over a year and not moving in together or getting married scares them.”

“Ah, I thought as much. As long as those other rumors aren’t true, though.”

What is this? Girl’s Hour at the local bar? One thing I do not like about beta males is how well they play the passive aggressive game. “What rumors are those?” I shouldn’t bite, but I do.

“The ones that say you’re breaking up every other week.”

“Yes, well…” This is why I do my best to control the press regarding my relationship. I’m used to them speculating who I’m marrying or dumping, but Kathryn does not take it well. “They’re wrong. We’re doing quite well, thank you.”

“Of course. I was telling Solange that you make a handsome couple.”

He finishes his cocktail and slips off his stool. Thank. The. Lord.

Then his hand slaps me on the shoulder, like we’re buddies. “I’ve known a lot of Doms in my life. Takes a special one to admit defeat to a woman like Kathryn.”

I glare at him.

“Oh?” With a devilish smirk he removes his hand. “I should have figured. You actually don’t know how to give her what she really needs to be happy.”

This.

Fucking.

Rat.

Bastard.

We have hit point #5: kick him right in the nuts and watch him go down, grabbing his balls and sniveling into the ground. “Haha! You and your girlfriend have cooties! Bye!”

Tags: Cynthia Dane Billionaire Romance
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