Page 45 of The Sadist and the Brat

“Aren’t you going to remind me that I don’t have to do this if I don’t want to?” she called through the door.

“Do you need me to remind you?” Amanda called back.

“No,” Sadie admitted. Business taken care of, she nudged the door open so she wouldn’t have to shout and began to wash her hands. “But Rebecca and Olivia both said it, so I figured you’d be next.”

Amanda picked up Sadie’s bags. “You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t want to be.”

“Your bedside manner sucks,” Sadie informed her, turning off the water and reaching for a towel.

“It’s notmybedside manner you need to be worried about.” Amanda told her, blue eyes laughing, and started down the basement stairs.

With few choices—and none that wouldn’t make her look like a screaming coward—Sadie followed.

The basement was a large, open space that somehow managed to be cozy and cavernous at the same time. There was plenty of room for equipment and people, which was why so many club parties were held there. But it was also warm and inviting, with soft carpets and comfortable furnishings, and Sadie had always felt safe there.

Well. Until now.

She didn’t see Jack, but James was standing by the pool table Amanda had gotten him for Christmas the year before, a cue in his hand. He looked up when they walked in, a smile creasing his handsome face. He was in what Amanda called his ‘at home uniform’ of jeans and a sweater in pale blue that brought out the color of his eyes. He had salt-and-pepper hair, a leanly muscled build, and a gentlemanly air that hid the beast beneath.

Amanda reached him first, and he leaned down to plant a soft kiss on the side of her neck. “Hello, beautiful.”

“Sir,” she murmured with a dreamy smile that had envy curling in Sadie’s stomach.

“And Sadie,” James said, turning his attention to her. He laid his pool cue on the table and placed both hands on her shoulders, kissing each cheek in turn.

“Hello, James.”

“I see you followed instructions,” he said, glancing at her sweatshirt and yoga pants. He glanced at the bags Amanda still held. “Which of those is your aftercare kit?”

“The small one.”

He nodded at Amanda. “Go ahead.”

Sadie watched, curious, as Amanda turned and walked to the big bedroom with both bags. The door was slightly ajar, and Amanda slipped through. “What’s she doing?”

“What she was told,” James said, his eyes flashing with amusement. “Now, how are you feeling?”

“Fine,” she said, squirming when he just continued to look at her in his calm and steady way. “A little nervous.”

He nodded. “Understandable, with a new play partner. Have you had any alcohol tonight?”

“No, of course not.”

“Taken any medication?”

“No.”

“What did you have for dinner?”

“A loaded baked potato,” Sadie replied, perplexed. “And a salad. What’s with the questions?”

He raised an eyebrow, and she winced. Her tone had been less than respectful. “I’m sorry. That came out wrong.”

He patted her shoulder. “Apology accepted. And to answer your questions, I’m determining if you’re fit to play. Any caffeine?”

“A Coke,” she replied, still confused. “I am still playing with Jack, right? He didn’t outsource me to you?”

He chuckled. “No,” he began, turning when the bedroom door opened and Amanda emerged. She pulled the door shut and crossed the room with a smile.

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