Page 96 of The Sadist and the Brat

“If I have to suffer through the aftermath, the least you can do is suffer with me.”

“Looking forward to it,” he said, chuckling when she scowled harder, and grabbed her hand. “Come on. Let’s get some pie.”

Chapter Fifteen

They stopped at her place to drop off her car and pick up an overnight bag, then continued to his apartment. Sadie disappeared into his bathroom as soon as they arrived, calling out as she ran up the steps that she wasn’t to be disturbed on pain of death. Amused, he put away the leftovers Rebecca had pressed on him, plus an enormous container of mashed potatoes from Sadie’s mother, then visited the guest bath before following her up the steps.

He kept an ear out while he changed his clothes, slipping into the black pajama pants he favored for lounging. With the occasional burst of running water the only sound coming from the bathroom, he worked on setting the scene.

He stripped the bed down to the fitted sheet, laying the duvet over the footboard so he could reach it easily later, and stacked the pillows on the chair in the corner. Rope came out of the storage bin under the bed, along with a pair of wrist cuffs in supple leather, and the small tool kit he needed to open the hidden panels in the headboard.

He opened the first one at the upper left corner, revealing the eye bolt that served as a hard point. He flipped the mechanism that extended it past the opening and locked it into place, then did the same on the other side. He attached a length of rope covered in a thin PVC sleeve to each, leaving the ends to trail on the mattress. They’d be tied to her cuffs, but he’d do that when she was in them.

He dipped back under the bed for the custom pillow he’d had made for the headboard. The thick slab of memory foam was three feet wide, five feet long and had been custom fit to lie against the curved headboard, providing extra padding for anyone who found themselves bound to it.

He fitted it into place, attaching it to the hooks that sat below the mattress in the front, pulling it over the top of the headboard and fastening it to the hooks on the back side. He stepped back to eye the setup, then grabbed a pillow from the pile on the chair. The mattress was soft, but she’d be on her knees for a while, and some additional cushion wouldn’t hurt.

He laid the pillow in the center of the mattress, right in front of the headboard pad. Satisfied that the bed was ready, he picked up the toy bag he’d pulled out of the closet.

He opened it and considered the contents. With his plans for the scene in mind, he selected a wooden paddle, a riding crop, and two floggers—one in deer hide, the other in buffalo. He added a leather vampire glove to the pile, and one covered in soft rabbit fur for contrast. He picked out a cane, just in case, then tossed the bag back in the closet and draped the duvet over the pile of toys so she wouldn’t see them.

He dug the bottle of lube he preferred for ass play out of the nightstand and tucked it and a pair of condoms next to the toys. He was tying his hair back when the bathroom door opened.

Sadie stepped out, naked, her hair still in the loose waves she’d worn earlier. She started to smile at him when her gaze dropped, and she blinked. “Damn. Olivia was right.”

“What was she right about?” he asked amused.

“That black pajama pants season is almost as good as sweatpants season.”

“What?”

She waved a hand, her eyes still trained on his pants. “Never mind, it’s not important.”

“Okay.”

She shook her head, like a woman coming out of a dream, then stepped forward. She stood straight, her hands raised and out to the sides, palms up and slightly cupped, and in a deep voice that rang with ceremony, announced, “I have performed the ritual, and the path is clear. You may now bugger me.”

Delighted with her, he laughed and scooped her up in a fierce hug. He swung her around just to hear her squeal, burying his face in her hair. “God, you are something else.”

“I keep telling you that,” she reminded him, her hands clinging to his shoulders.

“And I believe you every time,” he assured her. He held on to her for one more moment, savoring the simple joy of her in his arms, then set her back on her feet.

“You’re in an awfully good mood,” she observed, brushing at her hair. “That usually means you have something terrible planned for me.”

“Oh, not so terrible,” he assured her, and reached up to gently tug a lock of hair from where it clung to her cheek.

Her eyes were dancing with anticipation, even as they narrowed in suspicion. “That’s what you said when you brought out the stun gun,” she reminded him.

“And didn’t you like it?” he countered.

“No. It hurt like a motherfucker.”

“You came so hard you were speaking in tongues,” he reminded her.

“Oh yeah,” she murmured, her eyes going dreamy at the memory, and he stifled a laugh.

He circled around to stand behind her and nudged her toward the bed. “You’ll be fine. Trust me.”

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