Good Girls vs Brats

Marc parked his car and Sinead hesitated before getting out. He’d driven them back to his place, which made sense since her car was parked out on the street, but she was feeling nervous and wasn’t sure how to handle it. The weirdest part was that it wasn’t nerves like the first time when she’d known what she was getting into with Marc.

This time it felt even more like an unknown than what she’d been guessing when she thought he was going to just take her to bed and fuck her. He’d proven that he wasn’t just looking for sex - and she knew that she’d been more than a little interested in just sex. Especially that night after staking out Barisha, but that had mostly been the booze talking.

Her hesitation gave Marc the time to cross around the car and open her door for her, and he offered her a hand out.

“Thanks,” she said, feeling his strong hand in hers.

He didn’t respond, and that made the little pit in her stomach grow a bit. Then Marc offered his arm, and she held it as they walked through the underground parking to the elevator in silence except for the sound of her heels on the concrete. Marc thumbed the call button and they waited. Sinead opened her mouth slightly, wanting to say something, but not knowing what to say. She didn’t want to apologise to him, that was for damn sure. And she hated that she felt like maybe she should.

The soft ding of the elevator arriving knocked her out of her own head and Marc led her into the small, enclosed space. Sinead took a breath as she turned to face the door, but Marc thumbed the Close Doors button and then held the Stop button.

“Detective,” he said, his voice deepening a bit back towards that one he’d used in the coat room. “Tonight I thought we were having fun. A beautiful dress, a fancy party, good food and drink. I intended to be a perfect gentleman, and we could have our little adventure. But tonight you acted like a brat.”

“Marc-” Sinead said, her voice firm. She wasn’t some child to be scolded. But as soon as he held up a hand, one finger ordering her to wait, she stopped.

“I’m not interested in having fun with a brat, Detective,” he said. “A brat thinks she’s better than the people around her. A brat thinks she deserves things that she hasn’t earned, and says things that she knows will be hurtful just for the sake of a tiny endorphin hit. Brats have no self-control, no impulse control. I’m not interested in a brat, I’m interested in real, adult women.”

“I’m-” Sinead started, but hesitated again. She did not want to apologise to him.

“Brats also don’t deserve nice gifts,” Marc said. “Not when they can’t behave themselves. So, Sinead, I think you should give me back my gift.”

Sinead frowned. He hadn’t given her anything except the USB drive with the data for her case, and there was no way she was handing that back when she’d already blown him in payment. But looking into his eyes, Sinead realised that wasn’t what he was talking about.

The dress.

She swallowed, glancing down at herself. She was wearing her leather jacket, her heels, her own thong, and the buttplug. Other than the dress.

Sinead clenched her jaw, looking back up at Marc. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I was being a bitch.”

Marc pursed his lips slightly, nodding just a little. “Merci,” he said. “Now please, Detective. The dress.”

Sinead swallowed. He was still holding the Stop button on the elevator and it was buzzing softly. She was stuck in there with him, not that she felt like he was physically threatening her. When she took it off, she wouldn’t be naked. Her coat covered down to her waist. Her ass and legs would be out, but that wasn’t the worst.

What were the chances he’d stop them on the first floor and ask her to leave, sending her out into the cold like that? The part of her that was so fucking frustrated with him thought he’d do that. It was late, easily midnight or a little later, so there wouldn’t be that many people out on the street to see her rush to her car.

The other possible stop would be up on his floor, and she would be walking into his loft almost naked.

Sinead didn’t really make the decision, because she realised she already had. Her thoughts hadn’t been about if she took it off, they had been about when. She quickly took off her coat, handing it to Marc to hold, and then reached back and unzipped the dress and shrugged it off. As soon as her tits were free her nipples got hard in the cold of the elevator. She quickly slipped the dress down over her hips and stepped out of it carefully, bracing herself in her heels with one hand on the elevator handrail, and then she stood tall and raised up the beautiful little cocktail dress and showed it to him before folding it neatly and offering it to him.

Marc took the dress and then opened her coat for her, and she felt so fucking weird letting him put the coat around her naked shoulders.

“Bien,” Marc said, giving her one look over before releasing the Stop button and thumbing the button for his floor.

Sinead let out a breath, feeling a heat in her chest and cheeks and shaken by how relieved she was that she was getting what she wanted. He was taking her to his apartment. He wasn’t sending her out into the cold.

They didn’t say anything through the elevator ride and arrived on Marc’s floor quickly. He took the initiative, stepping out first and looking up and down the hallway before looking back and nodding to her. Sinead wasn’t sure how to feel about that - he was making her walk practically naked through his building, but also protecting her?

At his loft door, he ushered her in almost like he was acting like a gentleman, and then politely took her coat and hung it up.

“Come,” he said in that voice, and he started down the hall and towards the stairs up to his raised bedroom area.

Sinead swallowed her nerves and followed.

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