Page 3 of The Sadist and the Brat

“Shit.” Sadie blew out a breath. “How did we even start talking about this?”

“You said ‘eh’.”

“Well, I won’t do that again.” Sadie grabbed her empty glass, just to give herself something to do with her hands, and spotted movement at the bar. “I think you’re being hailed.”

Olivia turned to look. “Whoops. Guess my break is over.”

Sadie waved at Cade across the room as Olivia drained the rest of her drink. “It’s not a very imaginative costume, but he carries it well.”

“Doesn’t he?” Olivia plucked the glass from Sadie’s hand and rose. “We’re going to play pirate and wench later.”

Sadie considered Cade’s eye patch, billowing white shirt, and very tight leather pants. “Pictures or it didn’t happen.”

“Not a chance.”

“Party pooper.” Sadie stood to give her friend a brief hug. “I’m going to go find Nikki. I promised to be a friendly face in the crowd for her demo.”

“What’s she doing again?”

“Pervertables.”

“Oh, yeah. Cade’s bummed to miss that one. He was looking forward to getting some new ideas.”

“From what you’ve told me, I don’t think he needs any help in the creative Dom department.”

Olivia’s grin was both delighted and satisfied. “He really doesn’t.”

“All right, now you’re just bragging. Get out of here before I start to hate you.”

Olivia just laughed. “Give Nikki a good luck kiss from me.”

“Will do,” Sadie promised, and Olivia hurried away.

Sadie watched Cade greet his lover with an enthusiastic kiss and a smack on the ass. Ignoring the all too familiar twist of envy the sight invoked, she turned away from the happy couple to survey the room.

She didn’t see Nikki—no small wonder with so many people around—so she began to wander, enjoying the wide variety of costumes on display. She spotted a pair of slutty fairies wearing nothing but wings and pasties, a vampire in six-inch platform heels, an old-fashioned English bobby leading a serving wench in handcuffs, and at least three sexy nurses, one whose costume was completely see-through.

“I love Halloween,” she murmured, then turned when someone called her name.

She grinned with genuine pleasure at the man in black leather shorts and a harness making his way toward her. “Hey, Sam.”

“Love the costume,” he said, bending to kiss her cheek. “Wicked Witch of the East?”

“Slutty Witch of the Midwest,” she corrected.

“It’s great,” Sam enthused and flicked the wide brim of her pointed hat. “But I almost didn’t recognize you with so many clothes on.”

“I know, right?” Sadie looked down at her costume. Her dress was black, long sleeved and fitted, and opened in a deep vee from neck to navel. It fasted over her belly button with three tiny hooks before flaring open to flutter around her thighs. By vanilla standards, it was downright risqué—especially since the fabric was sheer, and the only thing keeping her from being totally on display were the pasties over her nipples and the skimpy G-string that had barely enough fabric to qualify as underwear. But since she usually attended play parties naked—or close to it—it was definitely a change.

“I feel like I’m wearing an overcoat or something,” she confessed. “And my hair feels funny.”

Sam gave one of her loose strawberry-blonde curls a tug. “Because it’s not in pigtails?”

She wrinkled her nose. “Exactly.”

“Well, you look great.”

“So do you,” she replied, looking him over. His summer tan was long gone, the black leather of the harness he wore providing a sharp contrast to the white of his skin. It showed off his lean build, and the thighs he’d built by riding his bike to work every day strained the leather shorts to their limit. He had close-cropped dark hair with streaks of silver at the temples, a clean-shaven jaw, and a hint of devil in his smile. “Love the harness.”

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