Page 69 of The Sadist and the Brat

She pushed her hair back, wincing at the tangles. She should’ve brought a comb. “Sometimes, but mostly I just practice with my own.”

His eyebrows rose, ever so slightly. “You have rope?”

“I have a toy bag, same as you,” she said, amused now.

“Is that right?” He laid the rope down, his eyes on hers. “Is this like carrying your own aftercare supplies?”

“A single submissive has to be prepared. What if I’m playing with someone who doesn’t have their own nipple clamps?”

“God forbid,” he murmured, a faint smile curving his lips. “What else is in this toy bag of yours?”

“The basics.” He was watching her so intently that she began gathering rope bundles just to have something to do.

“Like what?” he prodded.

“Rope, wrist and ankle cuffs, nipple clamps. Some candles, a paddle, vibrators and the like. I had a Wartenberg wheel, but I lost it somewhere.” She paused, rope in hand, and scowled. “It was medical grade, too.”

“Ouch.”

She added the bundle she held to the pile on the floor. “Tell me about it.”

“How often do you have to get into it?”

“Into my toy bag?” She shrugged. “More often than you’d think.”

“Hmmm.”

“Don’t start that,” she warned him.

“You had fun today.”

She glanced around. All the couples were packing up, chattering easily amongst themselves as they gathered rope. “I did.”

“We’ve been invited to stay for cocktail hour,” he told her. “Apparently it’s part of the regular programs.”

“That’s nice.”

“But?”

Of course he’d heard the but.Friggin’ Doms. “I’m not really in the mood to socialize,” she admitted. “But if you want to stay, I can catch a rideshare.”

“I’m not feeling very social, either,” he said, and rose smoothly to his feet. His rope bag in one hand, he extended the other. “But I wouldn’t mind getting a cup of coffee.”

She looked at his hand, then up at his face. She didn’t want coffee—she wanted him, and she was tired of pretending she didn’t. “Instead of coffee, could you take me back to your place and fuck me?”

Though his eyes widened slightly in surprise, he didn’t miss a beat. “Can I tie you up again first?”

“Can I try to get out of it?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” She put her hand in his and let him haul her to her feet. Her heart was beating fast, her mouth was dry, and she was glad she’d remembered to wear underwear otherwise she might have left a wet spot on Lucas and Melanie’s carpet. “Let’s go.”

* * * *

Twenty minutes later, she was standing naked in Jack’s living room while he laid out the ground rules.

“The second floor is off limits,” he said, pushing a large square leather ottoman into the wide space between two sofas. He’d already dumped his rope bag out onto the couch, piling it high with multi-colored hemp. The sight of all that rope—and knowing what he intended to do with it—made her feel overheated, despite her nudity. Her thighs were wet, her pussy dripping thanks to the earlier bondage and anticipation, and she had to force herself to pay attention. “You set foot on those stairs, and you’ll earn a punishment.”

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