Little Red Riding Crop

Part 10

“Yes, laughing at me while I’m naked,” Brad said as he looped the rope and knotted it neatly. Nora saw the amusement in his eyes. “That is sure to get you into my good graces.”

“I’m only laughing because your nickname is so appropriate...Mr. Big Brad Wolfe,” Nora said with nothing but appreciation for his big-Bradness. “Is Wolfe really your last name?”

Brad gave her a wink.

“Is Nora Sutherlin really your name?”

“Touché. So it’s been an hour. And you made me scream, you bastard. Do I win? Do I get my five minutes with the Dame?”

Brad sighed heavily.

“Talking about your one motivation for letting me beat you and fuck you won’t really get you on my good side either.”

This time, Nora couldn’t see the smile.

“Brad...you knew I was here to see the Dame. One hour with you, five minutes with her. That was the deal.” Nora raised up on her elbows, wincing at the soreness between her legs.

“The deal. Right.”

“You and me...we’re supposed to be professionals here,” she reminded him.

“I don’t fuck my clients.” Brad pulled on his pants with brisk efficiency. “Neither do you, I hear. What happened here wasn’t business.”

“Yeah...but it was a lot of fucking fun.”

Brad finally cracked a smile.

“I can’t argue with that. Okay, get dressed. The Dame’s office is opposite this one in the other hall—black door, red knob. Don’t bother knocking. Just go in.”

“Will she be nice to me?”

“Depends on her mood. I’ll see you out.”

Brad left without even kissing her goodbye. Then Nora realized how odd it was she even wanted him to. Just sex. Just a trade. Just business. Right?

Careful of her flogged back, Nora dressed in her skirt and corset and pulled on her red cloak once more. She took her time for reasons she didn’t want to consider. She needed to get this over with so she could get out of town and forget about Kingsley, about the Black Forest, and especially about the Big Brad Wolfe. She’d lay down her little red riding crop for a few weeks and come back to New York more vicious than ever.

Nora strode down the hall to the black door with red knob. After one quick breath, she turned the knob, stepped inside and felt her jaw hitting the floor.

When she finally picked it up again, she could only manage one single sentence.

“My goodness,” Nora said to The Dame, “what a big...crop you have.”