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Ignore it. Or address it.
I'd chosen to address it.
There's an etiquette, a rule of behavior, for kinky groups as much as there is in any other facet of society and I'd screwed up with the new dinner party club. Probably not enough that they'd cut me out. Even if they did, there were more than enough millionaires in southern Nevada and undoubtedly with strange tastes and interesting pastimes, that I could form a new group if I did get booted.
The millionaires, by virtue of only being millionaires, would be more than delighted to party with a billionaire. The sadists and Doms and owners and Masters would be delighted to wine, dine and share their pets. Their slaves and subs and insignificant others.
That didn't mean I didn't want to make amends for my behavior. It wasn't my place to punish someone else's sub.
So we were planning a dinner party. We were. Because through a stroke of genus or desperation, not wanting to do it alone, not wanting to attend it alone, and thinking it would be nice to have someone there who could at least have some say in my deportment if the anger surged, I thought of Chloe.
Her divorce from Claude had already gone through. Nevada is the divorce capital of the U.S. - all those movie stars in the forties and fifties throwing their rings in the Truckee River outside the courthouse in Reno. That was northern Nevada. For whatever reason, in southern Nevada we were more known for weddings.
But the process was swift. It should have dragged out even in a community property, no fault divorce state but when you're worth several billion dollars as a mega well known plastic surgeon and your severance package for your wife is so generous it all but screams remorse, the court doesn't argue for long.
Plus, he could afford to buy a judge or two.
Chloe had kept the house. She'd kept me too, as much as either of them had kept friendships.
I was willing to bet she'd kept the lifestyle, too. It was Claude she didn't want to keep and no one was surprised by her actions. On first meeting Claude presented as sweet, gentle, polite. Get under his thumb though, for a play session or more likely because he made arrangements with another owner, and there was another Claude. Dark. Dangerous. Not at all pleasant.
Annie had run from him, stolen his Bugatti and left it unlocked and the keys in the ignition and called me. She'd pretty much left Chloe the same way: Unlocked and ready to go.
I thought Chloe, having chosen to run to something rather than away from her home, might like an invite back into the society she'd enjoyed. I'd enjoy her company too, since Claude had never shared her directly like that.
It sounded like a good arrangement to me. It sounded good to her as well. So we'd been putting our heads together and a few other things were getting closer to getting together. I figured the night of the party she'd spend the night. Possibly whether she liked it or not. She was coming as my guest. I might make sure I enjoyed the ride.
The caterers were arranged for the evening. The usual maid service would do a two-day intensive on the house ahead of time. Security was being trebled by both my forces and those of the other billionaires. We needed to protect everyone coming against bribery, blackmail, kidnap and Kie.
"What haven't we figured out?" Chloe asked, stretching. She was a beautiful woman, kind of fairy-like in how slight she was. I was always surprised by her height. She was taller than I expected because she was so diffuse, so – ghost-like.
Not today. She'd changed over the past few months since she threw out Claude but kept a significant portion of his money. And his house. And sold the cars that had been left to her to start a charity for abused women and children. She was vibrant and somehow more colorful and when she stood up I anticipated her height.
I was also very much anticipating putting her on her knees after the guests had gone home – probably after the guests had gone home – and turning her skin from bright to bright red.
"Flowers," I said, more to say something than because I cared if there were peonies at the party.
Chloe stood. "I have to get going. There's an inspection for the foster system today. I'm going to go over the house for the ten millionth time and make sure there's no evidence of Claude's and my hobbies." She winked.
"There can't be," I said. "You've brought them all over here." Claude had truly amassed a shocking amount of fetish wear.
"Well begun is half done," she said breezily, then, "No, wait. Not that. How about, if it's worth doing, it's worth doing right."
I smiled.
Waited.
She shrugged and admitted it. "If it's worth doing, it's worth doing repeatedly and obsessively to make sure it's right."
I laughed. "Go. Be obsessive and repeated."
She leaned over and kissed me, aiming for my cheek. I turned my head and she caught my mouth. For a second we stared, then she connected. A good kiss that made me ache to take her now.
Patience. It would be more fun after the party. Or at the party. During the party, in front of everyone.
Wait and see.
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