Page 17 of Whatever Lola Wants

Naked, she pulled the catsuit out of her bag and wiggled her way into it.

Made of cherry red vinyl that matched her boots, it had long sleeves and a high neck and zipped demurely to her chin. But the vinyl clung like paint, and the double-ended zipper went all the way to her crotch and beyond, traveling between her legs to bisect her ass cheeks before ending at the small of her back. It could be unzipped from either direction, creating easy access to whichever parts of her body she—or her top—chose, killing any suggestion of modesty.

She stepped to the full-length mirror on the wall, pleased to see that even though it had been four years since she’d worn it, it still fit like a glove. Maybe even better than it had, considering the muscle she’d put on since she working out with Marcello. She eyed the zipper snugged up under her chin; the high neck gave her an austere and dramatic look, but she wanted to make a different impression tonight. She tugged the zipper down to just below her navel and examined the result. The snug, stretchy fabric peeled back, showing a sleek strip of pale skin, and exposed the inside curves of her breasts. She bent and twisted, testing the pull of the fabric, but though the suit would pull away from her body when she bent a certain way, it settled back into place when she straightened, and never really came close to exposing her nipples.

“Perfect,” she decided and tugged her boots back on.

She snagged the small makeup kit she’d packed in her toy bag to spruce up her face. Using liner to lengthen her eyes, slicking her mouth with lipstick the same shade as the catsuit. She shoved her hands in her hair to dishevel it, fluffing it up and giving the shoulder-length mass a wild, just-tumbled-out-of-bed look. She eyed the diamond studs in her ears, angling her head so they glinted in the light, and decided she liked them better than the gold hoops she’d intended to wear.

Satisfied, she put the makeup bag in the locker with her street clothes, clicked the lock shut, then picked up her toy bag and strode out of the locker room.

In the short time she’d been getting ready, the club had come alive. At the bar level, the music was up and the lights were down. A dozen or so people milled around the bar, and more crowded the dance floor. The stage in the center of the room was shielded by curtains; Skip the bartender had explained that it was sometimes used for theme nights, or for demonstrations.

She made a mental note to tell Michael that a needle demo needed a more intimate space. Depending on the level of interest, she might suggest more than one demonstration in order to keep the group small.

She headed back to the bar, stifling a grin as Skip looked up and spotted her. She assumed the blank shock on his face meant her outfit met with approval. “Can I get a bottle of water, Skip?”

“Ahh…” The poor man looked blank for a moment, then dug out a bottle with fumbling fingers. “Here you go, um…”

When he trailed off, she realized he was unsure what to call her. A lot of dominants preferred a title, and she was certainly not dressed as a submissive. She sent him a smile of thanks as she accepted the water. “Lola is fine. Thank you, Skip.”

She twisted off the cap, turned to face the room, and ran smack into Anna.

She wore a black miniskirt with zippers running from waist to hem at both hips and a blue bandeau top stretched across her breasts. A black leather play collar circled her throat, her hair was back in a ponytail, and her eyes were the approximate size of dinner plates.

“Holy crap, Lo.” Anna looked her up and down twice before she met her eyes again. “Holy crap.”

“Take a minute,” Lola advised with a chuckle.

Grant appeared behind Anna. His eyes weren’t dinner plates, but maybe saucers. “Holy shit.”

Lola rolled her eyes. “Jesus, you two. I don’t look that different.”

Grant was grinning, having gotten over the shock well before his fiancé. “Uh-huh. I take it your talk with Michael went well.”

“He answered my questions, I answered his. We agreed to give it a shot.” Lola glanced at Anna, who was still staring at her with mouth agape. “Anna.”

Anna blinked and managed to shut her mouth. “Sorry. I’m just…sorry.”

Grant chuckled and wrapped an arm around her midriff from behind. “Breathe, sugar. It’s still Lola.”

Anna seemed the melt back against Grant. “I know. Jeez, you’re a knockout. I mean, you’ve always been a knockout, but now…jeez.”

Lola laughed, pleased. “Thanks.”

“She’s right,” Grant agreed. “You are. You’ll be beating the Doms off with a stick.”

Lola’s lips quirked into a smile. “Is that allowed?”

Grant laughed and hugged Anna closer. “You know what I mean.”

“I’m not looking for a Dom tonight.”

Grant’s eyes narrowed speculatively. “You want to top?”

She shrugged. “If I play, yes. But if I don’t play, that’s fine too. Getting the lay of the land, hanging out, making new friends. That works for me tonight.”

“Fair enough. Want us to take you around, give you the tour?”

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