Three Simple Rules (The Blindfold Club #1) (12 page)

I never saw him during the day. But at quarter to five, I got an email from Logan without a subject line, and I held my breath.

I need you to vectorize this logo for a client, and they need it ASAP. Since you were late, you can stay late.

When I opened the file, I cursed at the screen. It was a piece of crap image composed of ten different gradients and mesh fills. There was no way I could run a trace program on it. I’d have to redraw it from scratch, and it would take at least an hour. This was bullshit busywork. Punishment.

It’s amazing how the office clears out at five minutes after five with people dashing to make their trains. I shoved my headphones on and got to work, jealous, but this was totally like Logan, and it was fair. I had been late.

I finished the logo in record time, my annoyance fueling me to the end. As soon as I was composing an email to Logan with the finished artwork attached, a new email appeared from him. He was still here?

Come to my office now and bring the envelope.

I dug it out of my purse and thundered into his office, slamming it down on the desk, startling him.

“Good night,” I spat and turned on my heel to leave.

“Enough,” he said, standing. “Close the door, we need to talk.”

It’s what I wanted, and yet I dreaded it.

He must have sensed my hesitation. “Let me sweeten the deal, then.” There was an edge of unease in his voice. “Rules one and two apply.”

I spun, incredulous. “How is that sweetening the deal?”

“Because they apply to me.”

chapter

NINE

The door banged loudly when I closed it. I may have been a little too forceful in my eagerness. He wasn’t allowed to ask me questions, but had to answer all of mine honestly? That did sound pretty fucking sweet.

“Lock it,” he said.

“Why?”

He looked uncomfortable. “Because I’m hoping we’re going to end up fucking in here.”

Well, that was an honest answer, but I felt like turning the bolt on the door was agreeing to it.

“Better safe than sorry,” he added.

I flipped the lock and sauntered over to the chair facing his desk, the same one I’d revealed my horrible mistake in.

“Why don’t you take a seat?” I asked. Even though this was his office, I was the one in control. He lowered back into his chair, his gaze fixed on me. “Why do you look so nervous?”

“Because I don’t know what questions you’re going to ask.”

“This was your idea,” I reminded. “Do you have a girlfriend?”

A small amount of relief seemed to run through him as he sat back. “No, I don’t.”

A much larger amount of relief coursed through me. “Then why did you tell your mother I was?”

“My brother’s getting married this weekend. My younger brother. She’s convinced I’m not ever going to get married, that it’s too late for me now that . . . I’m over thirty.” He loosened the knot of his tie and unbuttoned his sleeves, rolling them up as he continued talking. “She forbid me to show up at the wedding dateless, using that as an excuse to fix me up with someone horrible. So I told her I was seeing someone.”

“And you picked me?”

“She asked me for a name, and I gave her yours.”

I found that a little difficult to believe. “My name was the first one to pop in your head?”

A mischievous smile grew on his face. “Yes. I couldn’t believe my dumb luck when she came in and dropped your name.”

“What was your plan when you showed up dateless to the wedding?”

“I’d tell her that you broke up with me, and I was going to be too depressed to chat with any of the available women she wanted to unleash on me.”

Okay, one major chunk of information sorted through, now on to the other one. “How did you know I was at the club?”

“Pass.”

“I’m sorry, pass?”

“We’ll come back around to it in a minute.” When I opened my mouth to protest, he added, “I’m not violating the rule. It says I have to answer it and answer it truthfully. It doesn’t say when I have to do it.”

I don’t know which I was more irritated about — the fact he hadn’t answered, or that I hadn’t known I could do that when his rules applied to me.

“Where did you get the money?”

“My 401K.”

My eyes fell on the envelope sitting on the desk. Oh, god. I didn’t pay much attention to investing, but my uncle was an accountant and had helped set up my account. The one thing he’d stressed was to not touch my 401K under any circumstances, because the penalties were steep. I’d only been working at the agency for two years, so what I’d accrued would have been wiped out if I’d tried.

So what this meant was Logan hadn’t really paid twelve grand of his money for me. He’d paid even more.

“Why would you do that?”

He looked guilty. “Part of me felt responsible. I’d come to trust your work, so I had barely glanced at the proof you’d sent me.” His eyes changed and turned warm and seductive. “A much larger part of me did it because I wanted to.”

“Why?” I think I blushed.

“Because I thought you’d be amazing.”

I don’t know why I was nervous when he was the one being interrogated. “So, was I?”

“Didn’t I make it clear that you were?”

My breath was gone for a half-second and then returned with the realization. “Wait, was that a question?” That meant he was supposed to have consequences, but my brain failed me. I couldn’t come up with any kind of playfully torturous thing to do to him that wouldn’t be torturous for me as well. “Answer my question. How did you know about the club?”

He looked a little disappointed that was all I’d come up with.

“Come here, and I’ll show you.”

I sighed and got out of the chair, taking three steps to get behind his desk when he stood abruptly and pulled me against him. “What are you—”

He silenced me with one of his mind-numbing kisses. It wasn’t a delicate, soft kiss. It was an aggressive, controlling, devouring one. He’d slipped a hand behind my neck and the other was tight on my ass, pressing me against him. I struggled to stay above it, but I was drowning in him. Desire flashed white-hot through my body, straight to the center of my legs.

“You’re not showing me anything I don’t already know,” I murmured between kisses, going back for more. The hand on my ass traveled to the front, dragging slowly up in the valley between my thighs.

The button to my pants was undone in a heartbeat, and he broke the kiss, turning me in his arms so I faced the computer.

“I need you to send an email,” he said. His breathing was steady and controlled, but I was already hopelessly out of breath. He sat in his chair, making sure I understood he wanted me to stand, and he opened a new email compose window. I’d have to lean over him to do it while standing.

“Who is the email going to?” I asked, not moving.

“Evelyn Russell.”

“You want me to send an email to myself?”

“Yes.” His eyes were smug.

I gave him an exasperated look and bent at the waist, putting my hands on his keyboard. I typed in E and V and let AutoFill do the rest.

“What’s the subject?” I asked.

“Computer Usage Policy.”

I started to type when his hands closed around my waist and unzipped the zipper, yanking my pants down past my knees. The air on my naked skin was almost as shocking as the action itself.

“Hmm, I like these,” he said, running a hand over the back of my pink panties. “Keep typing, please.”

Because I’d only gotten three letters into “computer” before turning to him in surprise. He’d rolled his chair back so he was directly behind me and his hands kneaded my skin, skirting the edges of my panties.

“What are you doing?”

“Dictating an email to you because my hands are busy.”

I typed the rest of it, not bothering to put it in title case like I usually do, confusion making this easy task seem like brain surgery.

“Evelyn,” he said, “You may or may not remember . . .” His fingertips brushed over the crotch of my rapidly dampening panties, making me jump. “You should be typing now.”

I typed in a hurry, and when my fingers stopped moving, his started.

“—the company computer usage document you signed when you were hired.” He rubbed the spot that was aching for him through the fabric. I tried to focus on the words and not what he was doing or the desire that was sinking its powerful claws into me.

“I’d like to remind you that your manager has monitoring software,” he said. He tugged the panties to the side and exposed me to him, dragging his hand over my bare flesh. “And that your system should only be used for work related tasks.”

What the hell was he talking about? I didn’t use my computer for non-work things when I was supposed to be working. “I don’t understand why—”

He buried a finger inside me and I moaned.

“I can’t type when you do that.” It felt so different at this angle, a new kind of pleasure. Plus I couldn’t get over how incredibly hot and naughty it was, what we were doing right at his desk. Yet what he had me typing also had my brain confused and fighting for attention.

“You must find this distracting,” he said in a low, sexy voice. Then he returned to the tone for dictation. “You should not use your system to check personal email or social media, even during breaks.” His finger drew back and then plunged into me again and again. “Type, Evelyn.”

My fingers fumbled over the keyboard. I saw the red underline of a misspelled word and fixed it, all while he had my panties bunched to one side and fucked me with a finger. I was impossibly wet, and I knew his face was fixed on my ass right in front of him.

“Thank you for your understanding, Logan.” As soon as the words were gone from his mouth, he leaned forward in his chair and put his tongue on me.

“Oh, shit,” I cried. My legs shook when his tongue caressed me. The need that gripped my body threatened to break me.

“Send it,” he whispered, barely taking his lips off of my skin. I clicked the button, but remained as I was. There was no way I was going to stop him, but my goddamn brain wouldn’t shut up, and the distraction was keeping me from getting where I wanted him to take me.

“I still don’t understand.”

“I saw the club’s logo on that email the owner sent you, and I was curious who designed it,” he leaned back and peeled my panties down to my knees. “I thought you might be freelancing, so after you left my office, I watched your computer.”

I had forgotten he had those capabilities. I’d thought I was safe since it was my personal account and I hadn’t said much in the email. “There wasn’t anything in the email, though.”

The warmth of his face returned. His tongue slipped inside me, and then, like he’d done at the club, it drifted further to the spot that brought me pleasure but also made me uncomfortable. Dirty and wrong, but felt so good.

“Stop, I can’t think when . . . you’re going down on me.”

“I don’t want to stop.” He locked his hands on my hips and licked me front to back, drawing a shiver from my body. “You’d said you were getting the money Saturday night, and the owner said to bring the contract with you on Saturday.” He shoved two fingers into me, filling me as his mouth sucked.

“All I had to do,” he continued, “was email the guy and say you’d referred me to him. He spelled it all out for me.”

My hands balled into fists as the fracture in my brain widened.

“What did you think when you found out?”

“I was excited you were . . .
are
,” he corrected, “interested in that kind of thing. But I was worried about you, and pissed off. I almost gave you the money on Friday to stop you. But if I gave you the money, shouldn’t I get something in return? I’ve wanted you for forever. So I could give you the money, get what I wanted, and have you never know it was me.”

“What?” My hips moved subtly with his rhythm, asking for more.
Forever?
I was getting close. Was I supposed to tell him yellow?

“I wasn’t planning to take off your blindfold.”

He couldn’t see the shocked look on my face. It was hard to imagine it now, in retrospect. What if he hadn’t? I’d have gone to work every day completely oblivious.

“Why did you?”

“I didn’t like you not knowing it was me, and I figured I was safe from a sexual harassment complaint once you were begging for me to do this.”

The air left my lungs when he stopped talking and shoved his face into my pussy. I arched my back, and with the confusion finally sorted out, I came in a heated rush, collapsing on the cool desktop, electricity washing through every inch of my body. For a moment, the only sound was my heavy breathing.

“You’re supposed to only come on my cock.” His voice was wicked. The wheels of his chair squeaked as he rose, and there was the sound of his belt and zipper being undone. I was still recovering when a condom wrapper tore open.