Page 109 of The Sadist and the Brat

“’Kay.” She took a moment to watch him walk away—she really loved what the leathers did for his ass—before she started across the room, his coat draped over her arm. Halfway there she realized what he’d done and stopped dead. “Dammit, Jack!”

His rolling laugh echoed through the space. “If I come back and it’s on the floor, you will be, too.”

“Sneaky bastard,” she muttered, and started walking again. She turned left at the restrooms, heading for the small storage room they used as a cloakroom. Grumbling to herself and wondering just how she could get back at him, she selected a hanger off the rolling rack and carefully draped the expensive wool over it. She hung up her own coat, then slipped off the T-shirt dress she’d worn over her costume and hung it as well.

“Should’ve had Jack put it in his bag,” she murmured and made a mental note to come back for it when the meeting ended. She’d want it after they played.

The reminder that they were going to play together had nerves jumping in her belly, and she didn’t understand why. They’d been playing and fucking for a month now, and though he managed to surprise her nearly every time, she’d stopped being worried about it. They’d found a nice rhythm, and she trusted him. So there was absolutely no reason to be nervous.

“None at all,” she declared out loud, and bent to turn on her battery packs. She set the lights on chaser, double checked that both strands were lit, and headed back out to the main room.

It had started to come to life in her absence. A dozen or so people milled around, gathered in the conversation areas and dancing to the music that had been switched on. Someone had opened the bar, which consisted of setting out a couple of cases of soda and juice and a bin of ice on the repurposed reception desk in the corner. Deciding that hydrating would help her nerves, she headed in that direction.

She’d filled a glass with ice and was trying to decide between juice and soda when Rebecca stepped up next to her.

“You’re here early,” Rebecca observed, her pretty gray eyes focused on Sadie’s lights. “And dressed so festively. Love the boots.”

“Thanks.” Decision made, Sadie grabbed the can of soda closest to her, popped the top, and poured. “You look cute.”

“I do not.” Rebecca grimaced. “I had to go into the office today for an emergency meeting, and Nick didn’t give me time to change when I got home.”

Sadie sipped her soda and grimaced. Dammit, she’d grabbed a diet. With the taste of aspartame burning on her tongue, she turned to face her friend. “It’s a little conservative,” she allowed, taking in the trim pencil skirt in quiet gray, matching pumps, and tailored black blouse. “But it has potential.”

“Point that out to Nick, will you?” Rebecca leaned over to grab a cup and fill it with ice. “He’s grumpy because he wanted me to vamp it up tonight.”

Sadie snorted into her cup. “Vamp it up?”

“Well, he said ‘slut it up’,” Rebecca said, selecting a soda.

“That sounds more like Nick.” Sadie eyed Rebecca’s clothes and considered the options. “I can help you with that, if you like. Are you particularly attached to that blouse?”

Rebecca glanced down at her clothes. “No. Why?”

“What about the stockings?”

“They have a run,” Rebecca said, annoyed. “They’re going in the trash as soon as I get home.”

“Good.” Taking Rebecca’s free hand in hers, Sadie began towing her toward the cloakroom. “Come with me.”

Ten minutes later, Sadie sat back on her heels with a sigh. “This isn’t going to work unless you hold still.”

“I’m sorry, it tickles.” Rebecca tightened her grip on her skirt, held up around her waist. “Are you sure this won’t smudge?”

“Not without makeup remover,” Sadie said, and went back to drawing a careful line up the back of Rebecca’s calf with her liquid eyeliner. “You could sweat buckets, it won’t move.”

“Okay.” Rebecca peered down at her. “How high are you going?”

“What are the chances of Nick getting you out of this skirt at some point?”

“Excellent.”

“Then I’m going all the way up to cheek,” Sadie said, and carefully skimmed the eyeliner up the back of Rebecca’s thigh, coming to a stop at the edge of her lacy boy shorts. “There, one leg down.”

“Gimme a second,” Rebecca said, and did a full-body wiggle that made her hair bounce in the ponytail Sadie had put it in. “Okay, go ahead.”

Sadie bent to apply the liner to the back of Rebecca’s other heel. “Don’t move this time.”

“I’m telling you, it tickles,” Rebecca said, huffing out a breath. “I need a distraction.”

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