Three Simple Rules (The Blindfold Club #1) (13 page)

“If I could, I’d ask you if you want this.” The head of his dick slipped between my folds, teasing me. It was a question framed as a statement. He was already doing so much better than I did.

“Yes. Do you?”

“Fuck, yes.” He wasn’t as gentle this time when he pushed inside me.

“Whoa,” I gasped in discomfort. “Slower.”

“Sorry,” he whispered, freezing. He held still and let me slowly back myself onto him until he was as deep as he could go.

“Move,” I half-commanded, half-begged.

He did as I asked, easing himself out and then back in at a luxurious pace. Here, on his desk with all the lights on and my panties around my knees. His hands roved over my body, slipping under my shirt to cup my bra-covered breast.

“Take off your shirt,” he said.

I tore it up over my head, and he made a noise of appreciation when he saw the bra. I had wanted to talk to him in a place safe from beds, but somehow when I dressed this morning, I knew it was irrelevant. I was going to let him have me again if he could explain himself adequately. So I’d worn the sexiest lingerie I owned for him.

He filled his hands with my breasts, the pads of his thumbs skimming over the sensitive flesh just above the low-cut cups.

“You should ask me what I’m thinking about,” he urged.

Oh, right. I’d forgotten about that perk. “What are you thinking about?”

“That the cleaning crew has a key to my office and will be here soon.”

I had been expecting something sexy and that definitely wasn’t it.

“So I’m going to fuck you hard and fast,” he continued. “Feel free to come as many times as you like.”

That was better. He drove into me, thrusting harder and harder with each pass until I was breathless and frantic. My fingers clawed at the desk, seeking something to hold onto, and found the edge out before me. I curled my hands around it as he grabbed a fistful of hair at the base of my skull.

He pulled back, hard. It wasn’t painful, but it made me crazy with lust. He put his lips on the side of my neck. This made me channel my inner porn star. “Do you like my tight pussy?”

“I fucking love it.”

Oh, shit, he was going to make me come. His furious thrusts sent my hipbones banging into the drawer of his desk, but I didn’t care. All I could think about was the release that threatened and the blood rushing in my ears. But if that’s all I could think about, what about him?

“What are you thinking about now?”

He hesitated.

“Rule two, Logan.”

“I’m thinking about how you’ll react if I do this.” He licked the pad of his thumb and slipped it between my cheeks, pressing down on my other entrance. This felt dirty, but not as bad as what he’d done with his mouth. Naughty. Taboo.

I was curious. Payton enjoyed the anal stuff. She wouldn’t say that if it weren’t true.

“It . . . feels good,” I admitted.

He jerked inside me like my willingness turned him on. He pounded into me, and slowly he increased the pressure until he could slip his thumb up to the first knuckle into my ass. It was shocking and foreign, and made me tremble.

“I want to know how that feels,” he said between breaths. “If you want me to go further.”

Honestly, I had no idea. I was so close to going over the edge, I felt scattered. “I just want you to make me come.”

“I can do that,” he said. His other hand slid to my waist so he could shift the angle of my body to one where I could feel all of him at once, both inside and out. I slapped a hand on the desktop, dragging it squealing down.
Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. . .

This orgasm outdid the first. It was fast, but intense, and bliss rolled through me.

He didn’t slow down like he had the other times; he kept up his driving pace. His breath became louder, labored, and short, as his thrusts were more frantic. He was as hard as a rock inside me, filling me. I could sense he was so close, and I wanted him to lose control like he made me.

“Are you going to come?”

“Fuck, yes. Right. Fucking. Now.”

His body drove into me a final time, and then he was moaning again and again. God, listening to him made my insides quiver, and the feeling of him pulsing inside me was like nothing else. He made me believe no other man could satisfy me.

He caught his breath before I did, and he fell back into his chair. His hands pulled me so I was sideways on his lap.

“We should probably get dressed.” He lifted my chin and kissed me softly. “I want to have dinner with you.”

“Do the rules apply?”

“Until we leave my office.”

I gave him a coy smile. “We can order in.”

“It’s too hard to have a conversation without questions.”

That was true, and we hadn’t really had one. “Okay, what did you have in mind?” I climbed off of him and pulled up my panties and pants, as he got rid of the condom and sorted himself out.

“There’s that stir-fry place, have you been there?”

I stop mid-search for my blouse and looked at him. This time my brain was working, so I reached behind me and unclasped my bra, letting the straps drop down to my elbows, and then fall to the floor.

“Oops,” I said with a straight face.

It’s not like my breasts were anything spectacular. They were fairly average, maybe slightly larger. But he was a man, and men like pretty much all breasts. I sat on the desk and let him gaze at them, and when he reached out to put a hand on one, I pushed it away.

“No touching, you broke a rule.”

He smirked. I resumed getting dressed as he finished zipping up, and realized my window of getting answers out of him was closing. So if there was anything I wanted to know that he’d be reluctant to reveal, I needed to ask it now.

“How many women have you slept with?”

He shut down his computer and sighed. “I hope you’re sure you want to know.”

“I am.”

“It’s probably close to thirty.”

I had asked, but I frowned. God only knew what Payton’s number was. I’m sure it was more than thirty, but my number was so low. “Would you like to know my number?”

His eyes widened with surprise. “Yes.”

“Five.”

His gorgeous eyes went even wider. “I assume your number doesn’t includes me.”

“It does.” I slipped my shirt on and checked to make sure everything was back in place. “Why are you single?”

He had just undone the knot of his tie and his hands paused. In fact, his whole body went motionless. “Pass.”

“You can’t pass again.” I rolled my eyes. His gaze was shockingly intense and sobered me. It stole my breath.

“It’s because I’m not interested in being in a relationship right now.” He resumed movement, but his whole body was tense. This was the question he was nervous about?

“Why?”

His expression turned sour. “Relationships are about compromise.” His expression set into an authoritative one. “And me? I don’t do compromises.”

No, definitely not. But still . . . “That’s not a real answer.”

“So I broke a rule. What are you going to do about it?”

His challenge was startling and my brain was utterly blank, so I did my best to make sure it sounded strong. “I’ll think of something.”

chapter

TEN

We were seated right away at a table near the door. Even for a Monday night, the place was busy. We’d both taken our bowls with our names written on them to the buffet and piled them with meat and veggies, and deposited them by the cooking station that held a team of men hovering over woks.

“We’ve done this backwards,” he said as we made our way back to our table. “Sex, then dinner, and afterward I’m going to ask for your number.”

“What if I don’t give it to you?”

“I’m going to insist, for your file.” His expression was serious, but there was playfulness in his eyes.

“Let me see your phone.”

He passed it to me and, as I plugged my number in, a thought occurred. What exactly did he need it for? I set the phone down, and when he leaned across the table to retrieve it, my hand trapped his.

“What do you plan on doing with my number?” I asked.

“Call you?”

“For what?” My voice dropped to a hush. “Sex?”

His eyebrows pulled together in confusion. “I was under the impression you liked doing that with me.”

“I do.” I released his hand, confused myself.

“Evelyn.” He took a measured breath and his face was strikingly intense. “I think we’re past the point of being shy about what we want. So say it.”

He was right, but it was still difficult to put into words, especially after what he’d just confessed in his office.

“I’m not built to do that outside of a relationship. I’ll need it to be . . . more.”

There was no reaction from him, sending my heart plummeting into my stomach. His pupils focused in a discerning look, evaluating me.

“Pretty sure I told you, I’m not interested in that.”

I pulled air into my lungs, unsure how to proceed. “I understand, but I’m not interested in casual sex.”

“Did that feel casual to you?”

There was that sparkling Logan personality I was familiar with. “You know what I mean.”

“So, this is, what? An ultimatum?” His voice was harsh. “I’d advise against it. I don’t react well to them.”

This conversation was on a downward spiral. “It’s not an ultimatum. All I’m telling you is I can’t sleep with a guy who’s sleeping with other people.”

His mouth dropped open, and snapped shut a half second later. “I understand. I won’t do that.”

I blinked my skeptical eyes at him.

“What you’re asking for is not unreasonable,” he said. He fell silent for a long moment, as if considering something. “I’m not interested in a relationship, but I am interested in you. I can be exclusive to that.”

Was he trying to turn my brain into spaghetti? What did
that
mean? “You’ll be . . . ? I don’t get it.”

“You won’t have to share me, and I don’t have to share you.”

God, he really didn’t want to put a label on it.

“We need to discuss how it’s going to work. It could be difficult at the office, and then there’s the issue of your promotion.”

“Why’s that an issue? I’ve been there long enough, half the people already think I’m a senior designer.”

There was a flash of something in his eyes, and then it was gone. “Yes, that’s true. But we still have the problem of critiques. Are you going to take it personally if I say something negative about your artwork?”

I had to be smiling. “Um, no, boss. I’ll handle it like I always do. I’m plenty used to it.”

“What’s that mean?”

“Come on, I’ve endured your morale-boosting critique sessions for a year now. I’ve got a thick skin.” Our server presented our food to us, and I nodded a ‘thank you.’ “You don’t have to worry about sending me home in tears.”

“I’ve never done that,” he scoffed.

He didn’t know? “Not me, but remember that first proof on the cupcake ad Jamie did last month?”

He made a noise of disgust. “I’d prefer not to.”

I gave him an expectant look, waiting for him to get it.

“I made her cry?”

It came out before I could stop it. “You can kind of be a dick.”

He pulled his shoulders back, like I’d shocked him. Yet, he was too arrogant or stubborn to hear it. “No, I’m not, I’m honest.”

“Yeah, brutally honest. It’s one thing to say someone’s hard work isn’t their best. Maybe not even good. It’s another to say it looks like total shit.”

“I’m not going to sugar coat it. That cupcake ad made me want to stop eating food altogether.” He jammed his fork into his dinner. “You think what I say is bad? You should hear the feedback I get from some of our customers. And you know what it’s like, everyone with a license for Photoshop thinks they’re a designer.”

I’m sure it was true, that he’d heard much worse things. “Yeah, I know, but you can get your point across without so much edge. We think you get off on it.”

“We?”

I wasn’t sure how much I should tell him, but if it would make a difference, I had to try. “I’m not the only designer who thinks that.”

His shoulders rose and fell and there was defensiveness in his eyes. “Who else?”

“I’m not naming names.”

He scowled. “Give me a number.”

“I don’t know. Maybe twenty.”

“That’s half the fucking department,” he said.

“I wasn’t meaning to ambush you with this, maybe we shouldn’t talk about work stuff.”

“No, it’s fine.” Although his tone said it was anything but. “Tell me, then, how you would have handled Jamie’s critique.”

I barely remembered the ad, but the look Logan gave me was piercing, and somehow I knew if I didn’t come up with something, he’d use it to prove his point.