Page 52 of Ho Ho Oh No

Lettie pats Kri’s stocking-covered knee. “Why on God’s green earth were you worried about that? That’s nothin’, girl.”

Kri glances at me, her eyes pleading for my confirmation.

“I absolutely agree,” I reassure her, shrugging casually. “All he knows is we talk about sub stuff. Big deal.”

“I’m so new to this shit, totally out of my comfort zone. Not just the Dom/sub crap. I’ve never had female friends before, and I’m worried I’ll screw it up.”

I shake off Kri’s hand and wrap my arm over her shoulder instead. “Relatable.”

Lettie tugs off her long, black gloves, flopping them on her lap. “Aww.That’s the thing about having good friends. You can’t screw it up so long as you mean well and don’t backstab or talk shit. Follow the golden rule, which I know you both do.”

No wonder Tomer calls her sugar bear. She’s too damn sweet.

Unless she’s defending someone she cares about.

As if reading my thoughts, she proves my point in her next breath. “And by the way, it ain’t onlyoutsidethe bedroom where you can do anything you want. Remember that. You’re partners in there, but ultimately, you have all the power over what happens to your body. If he ever forgets it, you send him to me, and I’ll set him straight.”

See? Sweet and salty. The best of both worlds.

Like salted caramel icing on a big fat slice of cake.

Out of nowhere, Lettie’s breathing picks up, and she braces her hands on the seat of her chair. Her grip turns white-knuckle as oxygen saws through her teeth.

“Are you okay?” Kri asks her. “What’s wrong?”

A tiny mewl squeaks from the corner of Lettie’s tightly compressed lips. After a few seconds, she offers a leery nod. “I’m.Gooood.”

Despite her response, my unease continues spiking.

After swiftly scanning her from head to toe, I point at her lower body. “Lettie, if your thighs were pressed together any tighter, you’d make a diamond.”

Her eyelids twitch before slamming closed, and her lips roll in waves. There’s a tiny sway to her upper body. “I’m. Fine. Honest.”

Almost as quickly as it came on, the tension dissipates in a rush. Her shoulders slump, and she releases her death grip on the chair. She exhales through perfectly rounded lips, and her lashes flutter open. Almost instantly, her gaze latches on something across the room.

I search the space, my eyes frantically seeking an explanation for her bizarre behavior.

And then I see it.

Or seehim, I should say.

An exceedingly smirky Tomer, eyeing Lettie down. His hand is in his pocket, and I’d bet my best bra he’s holding a remote.

“Unfair,” I whine, sinking back into my chair and crossing my arms. “I want one.”

And I’m not above begging for it later.

Lettie responds solemnly while keeping her eyes fixed on her man. “No, you don’t. Trust me. It was fun at first, but now it’s torture.”

Kri ping-pongs her eyes between us, then follows Lettie’s line of sight across the room towards Tomer. She smacks Lettie’s arm and whisper-yells, “Oh my god. You’re wearing a toy!”

Attempting to gather her composure, Lettie straightens her spine and crosses her legs. Once she’s cleared her throat, she casually explains, “Friends, I made a horrible mistake. I was a bit too bratty this afternoon, and he’s been punishing me for the last two hours.”

“Oh dang,” I mutter, shooting wide eyes at Kri. “If Tomer tells our guys about this, we’re fucked.”

A distressed look pinwheels across Kri’s face. A lump seems to get lodged in her throat, and she juts her chin out to swallow it down. “Uh...”

I lean toward her, my head quirked to the side. “What, Kri?”

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