I blink. “I thought you weren’t interested.”
“I’m not interested in hispersonality,” Valerie says. “His body, on the other hand, looks excellent. Bonus points if he’s kinky.” She pauses, unloading several liquor bottles. “Is he kinky?”
I feel my cheeks heat. “Um… there’s a good chance, but I’m not sure. You’d have to ask him.”
She shrugs. “I don’t have to. He’s a total dom—I can feel it. I would not mind spending a night having my brains fucked out by him.” She gives a low laugh. “The rest of the time? He strikes me as insufferable.”
“You’re not wrong about the insufferable part. How are things in the apartment?” I ask, redirecting the topic as I pull the buttercream frosting out of the fridge and set the baking pan of cupcakes on the kitchen island. I rifle through the drawers until I find the professional frosting pipe that I convinced Dorian to buy for me earlier, a request he was all too happy to indulge. He seems happy to indulgeeveryrequest I make, no matter how frivolous.Except the ones that involve us going our separate ways.
“I haven’t killed Cara yet, so I’d say they’re going well,” Valerie says blithely. “Moscow Mule?”
“Make it light,” I tell her. “You have a heavy pour.”
She shrugs. “I also have a high alcohol tolerance and don’t really get hung over.” Her eyes flick up to the doorway and she releases a groan as Dorian and Seamus file in, followed closely by Cara.
I eye the four of them as I spoon frosting into the piping bag. “If you’re all here, you might as well help out. Cara, get yourself a drink and make your peace with a horror movie. Seamus, please plate the chocolate chip cookies, and try not to eat all of them. Dorian, how steady is your hand?”
“Extremely steady,” Dorian responds.
I nod. “Wonderful. Come help me frost.”
“You’re doing quite well in your role as lady of the house,” Seamus comments, tipping me a wink. While Dorian and I get started frosting, Seamus quickly plates all the cookies. He moves to stand right besideValerie as she mixes up drinks, leaving barely a few inches of space separating them. “You going to make me a drink, love?”
“What do you want?” Valerie asks, sliding a Moscow Mule across the counter to me.
“That depends,” Seamus says with a mischievous smile. “Are you on the menu?”
Not pausing in shaking her cocktail, Valerie says, “You can’t afford me.”
Seamus’s smile widens. “I beg to differ, darling. I’m averygenerous person in the right circumstances.”
“You clingy?” Valerie asks.
Seamus releases an astonished laugh. “No. You a brat?”
Valerie looks at him jerkily, tilting her head to the side, as if he’s just spoken some sort of code word that only she understands.
Dorian whispers in my ear, “A brat refers to a submissive that has attitude.”
Oh.My hand falters as I vacillate between frosting cupcakes and watching the exchange between Valerie and Seamus. Valerie has her fair share of flings, but she’s not as out there as Cara is, and she doesn’t ever stick around for more than just sex. She’s also pretty private about her sex life, never blistering my ears with details like Cara does.
“Bratty, but not necessarily a brat,” Valerie says mildly, eyeing Seamus. “What do you want to drink?”
Seamus grins. “Surprise me.” Valerie tilts her head from side to side, considering him.
“Do you have cinnamon sticks?”
Seamus nods. “Of course.”
“Matches? Round glasses? Good whiskey? Old Fashioned supplies?”
“Yes to all of the above,” Seamus says, sounding intrigued. “I’ll fetch them, and perhaps we can talk more about your…proclivitiesover a drink.”
Valerie shrugs noncommittally. “We’ll see how it goes. You seem like an annoying person, so perhaps talkingshouldn’tbe on the menu.”
Seamus leaves the room with a chuckle, and Cara says she’s going to go find a horror movie she can stomach, leaving Valerie, Dorian and me alone in the kitchen.
“Be careful with that one,” I advise Valerie. “He’s dangerous.”
