“Better.” Anne released her as the bartender approached.
“Ladies, what can I get you?”
“We have a request,” Rainie started with the familiar spiel. “We’re with a bachelorette party and—”
“That’s a relief,” the bartender said. “Got two cops at the end of the bar figuring on busting some hookers.”
Rainie concealed her flinch and the urge to flee, reminding herself she wasn’t an underage kid living with a drug dealer. She managed a smile. “No soliciting in our group, just an upcoming double wedding. We wanted you to serve a special drink shot for the brides, Gabi and Sally. It’s called the G and S Smackdown. If you agree to make it, we’ll talk it up and get people to order it.”
He shook his head. “I’m afraid not. See we have—”
And then Anne reached over the bar and wrapped the bartender’s paisley tie around her slender hand. Rainie felt the blast of dominance accompanying the move, and when the bartender’s gaze met the Domme’s, his stubborn expression melted right off his face.
Anne slowly pulled him forward and said in her husky voice, “What is your name?”
“Lance.” His voice was hoarse.
“That’s a very nice name,” Anne said, and the bartender actually quivered. “Lance, it would please me if you’d make the shooters.”
“O-okay. Sure. I’d be happy to.” His expression said he wished she’d ask him for something more so he could do that as well.
Rainie’s smile faded as she remembered the night before and her absolute joy, right down to her toes, when she’d earned Master Jake’s approval. Why, oh why, did Jake Sheffield have to be a Dom?
After ordering champagne drinks and handing over the recipe for the G and S Smackdowns, Rainie followed Anne back to the table, getting four requests to dance and two offers of a monetary nature. She grimaced and checked her bustier to make sure she hadn’t popped out a nipple or something.
Nope. All good.
“Well, ladies.” She settled in beside Kim. As her weight left the high-heeled sandals, her tortured feet throbbed in relief. “This is the last bar on the list, so let’s give them a good show.” She glanced around the table. Even without dancing, they made a colorful group.
Kim’s short, short dress matched her icy blue eyes. Uzuri was in a skin-tight, red sheath that set off her chocolate-brown skin.
The brides-to-be had chosen white. Gabi wore a white leather miniskirt and sequined white corset. Her strawberry blonde hair now had a silver and blue streak to match the wedding colors. Sally was in a white leather minidress with cutouts that showed the sides of her breasts and hips.
Damn, she loved her girls. And so would the crowd. Smiling, Rainie edged back to survey the dance floor. Yes, there would be enough room for them to put on a show.
When she turned back, Gabi was lining up her prizes on the table…right next to the ones Uzuri had won. Good God.
Sensing a competition, Sally emptied her silver-striped party bag. A giant green dildo skidded across the table.
“Sally!” Kim hissed, a little too loudly.
Around them, conversations dimmed as eyeballs locked onto the array of sex toys.
“Hulkorama wanted out,” Sally announced innocently. “He’s too big to like being covered up.”
“Well, that’s true enough.” Gabi wrinkled her nose at the green-veins bulging all over the dildo. “That’s one ugly wanker. At least Iron Mania has some class.” Picking up a sleek, dark-red-with-gold-stripes dildo, she waggled it at Sally.
“Personally, I’ve always preferred American military heroes,” Rainie said, drawing her dildo like a sword. It was a gloriously garish red-white-and-blue, and dotted with stars. “The Captain here feels it’s his patriotic duty to serve right up to his last brea—uh, vibration.”
“Huh, good point.” Gabi scowled. “I bet Iron Mania has a vile sense of humor. I’m not sure I can take an evil vibe as well as an evil Dom.”
“Oooo, baby, that sounds like a story. What did Master Marcus do?” Uzuri asked.
“No wait—first tell us what you did to get in trouble?” Kim asked with a knowing smile.
Gabi pouted. “That stupid inflatable swan had a leak, so I was patching it, and I had the glue out, right?”
“Right. And?” As Uzuri absentmindedly toyed with the bulging veins on the green dildo, a man walking by spilled his drink.
“I just… Well, I glued together a bunch of the nipple clamps and gave the swan a pretty necklace.”
As the shrieks of laughter burst around the table, Gabi started to giggle. “You should have seen Marcus’s face when he saw the swan. Then when he couldn’t get the tweezers clamps to open, his face got all…” Gabi pulled her brows together and set her mouth into a line.
Kim’s head was planted in her hands, her shoulders shaking.
Uzuri was holding her sides. Sally leaned against her for support.
Mistress Anne shook her head in disapproval…but her lips were twitching.
Rainie managed to gasp, “What did he do?”
“Oh, you know how he is…” Gabi lowered her voice and added a southern accent, “Well, darlin’, you got thayut swan all fancied up, ah do believe you should join it foah a party.”
“Uh-oh,” Uzuri muttered.
“E-zactilamente.” Gabi gave a decidedly drunken nod. “The bastard tied a butterfly vibe right over my clit, put me on the swan, and chained my nipples to that damned necklace so tight I couldn’t move.”
“Oh, ow,” Rainie muttered, folding her arms over her chest in sympathy. Nipple clamps were the worst.
“Yeah, right? Then he lounged by the pool, drinking his Grey Goose, and playing with the vibe’s remote controls. Oh Lord, I’m sure the neighbors could hear me begging—and by the time he let me come, I know they heard me scream.”
Rainie laughed so hard she had to push her thighs together to keep from peeing.
Next to her, Anne was grinning, but her expression was intrigued. Uh-oh. If the Mistress had a swimming pool, some poor submissive would be in for some rough pool sex.
“Ladies.” Kim’s attempt at sternness was ruined by her sputtering giggles. “Ladies, put your toys away before you get us evicted. Or before Ben blushes so much his face explodes.”
To the poor security guard’s horror, they all turned to look at him.
“Boy, you white people can really turn red,” Uzuri said in awe.
Rainie tried to smother her snickers by drinking and ended up almost choking to death.
“No dying during a party.” Mistress Anne gave her a well-placed whack between her shoulder blades.
The impact didn’t clear her airways, but the pain definitely did. “God have mercy,” Rainie wheezed. “I mean, Mistress, mercy.”
After nodding a polite acceptance, Anne smiled as the bartender himself delivered their order.
He set the shots and drinks around the table, saving the last for Anne.
She held up one finger to him to wait and stood. “Ready, ladies?”
They rose and then hammered their hands on the table to create a thundering drumroll.
With the others, Rainie lifted her tiny glass high. After downing the shot, she slammed her glass onto the table. A chorus of thuds came from the others.
Hands lifted, a screech erupted. “G and S Smackdown!”
“That’s for Gabi and me!” Sally yelled. She and Gabi leaned across the table and exchanged a lascivious kiss.
“Thank God, the grooms aren’t here,” Kim muttered to Rainie.
“No shi—kidding.” Rainie glanced over to see Anne holding the bartender’s face between her palms and saying, “You did very well, Lance. I’m pleased with you.”
“God, if the guy possessed a tail, he’d wag it,” Rainie said under her breath to Kim.
Kim huffed a laugh and touched the diamond-studded choker around her neck—the symbol of her relationship to her Master. “You know, when Master Raoul praises me, I’m exactly the same.”
The edges of Rainie’s happiness singed before she pushed her envy away. Kim had suffered, almost died before reaching safety with Raoul. Rainie planted a loud kiss on her friend’s cheek. “That’s good. You deserve every bit of the happiness you have.”
When Kim’s eyes filled, Rainie shook her head. “None of that, BFF.” She lifted her glass of champagne. “Ladies.”
The women looked up expectantly.
“To ex-trainees Gabi and Sally,” Rainie said, “who left behind a matchless legacy of brattiness.”
Under the cover of the clinking glasses and cheers, Anne resumed her seat. Her penetrating gaze settled on Rainie. “Speaking of brats, I still owe you a punishment for those bugs you put in my locker.”
Rainie jerked, spilling her drink. “No, I’m sure you don’t. Really.”
“Oh, yes. I do. But perhaps I’ll let Jake handle the matter.”
“What?” Just his name made Rainie’s heart rate increase. “Why?”
“I heard he enjoyed spanking you last night. I daresay he’d be delighted to get another chance.”
“No. No way.” The dismay—and excitement—was almost enough to drive the alcohol from Rainie’s system. “He’s… I don’t even like him.”