Page 64 of Over the Line
It had cost them each a lot of money for dresses and to host her bachelorette parties and bridal showers. And just because it was the third time she’d waltzed down the aisle, didn’t mean Lea didn’t want the white gown and all the frills.
“I’m ready to attend as a guest,” Sydney said.
“No!” Lea shrieked. “I need my besties.”
Jacqueline sighed. “Okay. We’ll split the responsibilities this time.”
Lea danced in her chair. “Bachelorette party in Barbados?”
“Not if I have to pay half,” Sydney protested. “I’m on a strict budget.”
“Vegas,” Jacqueline said with the same finality she used in court when she said, “The defense rests, Your Honor.”
“But we’ve done that before.”
“Well,” Sydney pointed out reasonably, “You’ve also gotten married before.”
“We can stay at the Bella Rosa,” Jacqueline offered as a compromise.
The newest, hottest hotel and casino on the Strip.
“Fine.” She picked up her straw and stabbed it back into her glass. “But I want a bridal shower where my future in-laws live.”
Sydney narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Which is where?”
“Boston.”
Of course. One of the priciest cities in the United States. “I can’t afford many more of your marriages.”
“This one should be the final one.”
“Should be?” Jacqueline seized on Lea’s words. “What about the whole ‘till death do us part’ thing?”
“A mere a suggestion,” Lea said.
Sydney sighed and exchanged glances with Jacqueline.
“Okay,” Jacqueline relented. “Boston it is. But if there’s a fourth wedding, someone else has to be the maid of honor.”
“Third time’s the charm.” Lea crossed her fingers hopefully.
Beneath the table, so did Sydney.
After dinner, they strolled around the property then sat on the edge of the hot tub to soak their feet. Even though she complained of blisters, Lea refused to relinquish her dozens of designer heels.
Finally back in her room, Sydney fell onto her bed facedown.
Before drifting off, she grabbed her phone to shut it off so that no one tried to reach her stupid early—before noon—only to find a text message waiting.
It was from the Den, asking for her permission to share her phone number with Master Michael.
She grinned.
Her one-night stand was definitely determined.
Jacqueline’s words tumbled over in Sydney’s mind. “…Don’t throw away the chance for a good time because you got a crazy idea that fucking leads to being collared—or whatever you call it in the lifestyle—or worse, marriage.”
And even Lea had a point. All relationships, especially BDSM ones, needed excellent communication. She only wished she could be as forthright about her emotional needs as she was her desire to be spanked and flogged.