Three Simple Rules (The Blindfold Club #1) (2 page)

“I made a mistake,” I breathed out, clutching the cardboard so hard it started to bend under my grip.

“What did you do?” It wasn’t accusatory, more concerned.

“This is the sample for Player’s.” I set the board in front of him and sank down into the chair opposite his desk. Long fingers picked it up, and his chocolate-colored eyes scrutinized every inch of it. Like me, he couldn’t spot it right away. He searched for a typo in the tag, and when he came up empty, he dropped down to the legal disclaimer at the bottom.

The cardboard dropped silently to the desktop, and his face filled with anger. “How the hell did that happen?”

“Player’s is a new client, so I didn’t have their brand guidelines when I started building. I grabbed a legal off someone else’s artwork to use as a placeholder until I had it. I thought I had updated it, but . . . I didn’t.”

“Of course you grabbed their competitor’s legal line.”

It wasn’t possible for him to be any angrier with me than I was with myself. It didn’t matter that the customer had signed off on the proof I’d sent them. The customer was always right, and there was no way they were going to pay for twenty thousand pieces of advertisement they couldn’t use.

“Call the printer and get estimates on stickers to cover that,” he barked, and ran a hand through his hair.

“I already thought of that, but we can’t.”

He looked closer at the sample. “Shit.”

The legal was positioned just so on the background that the stickers would have to be perfectly placed by hand to hide it. That kind of labor would be too expensive. It’d be cheaper to just print 20,000 new ones. And using the sticker would alert everyone to what a dumbass I’d been, including the brand new client, who’d probably bolt.

“I need to ask,” I said, a tremble in my voice, “for a really big favor.”

It was like I’d just told him I loved the font Comic Sans.

“What do you need?”

What I needed was to fix this mistake and keep my job. Agency jobs were hard to come by, and freelancers were making the design industry more competitive every year. I’d made tough choices before, and I could do it again.

“No one knows about this. I need you to have the printer destroy these before they go out tomorrow.”

“That’s a given, not a favor.”

“I need you to place a rush order for 20,000 more, with the correct legal.”

“I think the customer’s going to notice an extra ten grand on their bill.” His long, elegant face twisted with sarcasm.

“No,” I said, my voice fading into almost nothing, “they won’t, because I’m going to pay for it.”

“What? You’re not going to do that.” Confusion made his eyes a shade darker.

“You and I are the only ones who’ll know.” I hated that he’d be able to hold it over me, but right now I had to focus. I needed his help. “If Player’s finds out, they’ll walk and my head will roll.”

“Maybe that’s what should happen.”

“I’d like to point out that you signed off on the proof, too.” I hadn’t wanted to bring it up, but he’d left me no choice.

“I sign off on dozens of rounds of artwork a day. I don’t proof legals because I expect my people to be able to execute simple things like this.”

I tried not to let it sting, but his truth cut into me. “Your boss might see it otherwise.” As my manager, his job could be in jeopardy for my mistake.

His eyes went narrow. “You’ve got that kind of money?”

“No,” I said, “but . . . I think I can get it.”

“That sounds ominous. How?”

“Don’t worry about it.” Because lord knows, I was plenty worried about it enough for both of us. “Please, Logan. I made a stupid mistake that I’m going to beat myself up over about for the next ten years. I love this job. I need this job. Please.”

He leaned back in his chair, his gaze drifting away from mine and falling down onto the case card.

“If I do this, you better not breathe a word of it to anyone else.”

I wasn’t sure if it was relief or trepidation that filled my body. “Of course.”

“Go back to your desk and get me the corrected file. Hurry before I change my mind.” He passed the case card back to me with a pointed look. I scrambled for the door but froze.

“I’ll have to know,” I said, “how much I need to come up with.”

His face was unreadable. “I’ll let you know.”

I couldn’t look at the FedEx box when I returned to my desk. I jammed the sample in the garbage and updated the artwork, then emailed the file name and location to Logan. My phone rang a few minutes later with his extension flashing on screen.

“Ninety-six hundred.” That was all he said before hanging up, and even with that few words I could hear the anger in his voice. Anger that I’d drawn him into this terrible situation.

Yeah, well, the joke’s on you.
I’d put myself in a much worse situation.

I was about to become a whore.

chapter

TWO

I followed Payton into the upscale salon, and I was sure I was going to throw up on the marble tile floor inside. We were meeting her manager, Joseph. Her pimp, who, assuming everything went okay with our meeting, would become my pimp.

“Just breathe,” Payton said. She was beyond thrilled when I’d confessed what I needed. She felt bad how I’d come to the decision, but she had absolute certainty that this was the first step on my road to sexual awakening.

It wasn’t a step, this was like being strapped to a rocket.

It seemed odd to meet here, but if Joseph agreed to let me see clients, he would have a say about the way I looked, specifically the downstairs area. Payton had filled me in on what to expect, but Joseph wasn’t what I had expected. He was a thirty-something, elegant man with coat-hanger shoulders and a devilish smile.

“Nice to meet you, Evelyn. I’ve heard many good things.” He shook my hand and then gestured for us to follow him past the wash sinks and into the back. He led us into a room I guessed was used for the waxing, and he sat on the table, assessing me with his gaze.

“I’m sure Payton has told you how this works, but things would be different with you. Your friend is a rare woman, which you probably already know.”

“Yes,” I said, the nerves making it difficult to speak.

“I understand you’re looking for a one-night only sort of thing?”

“Right.” Payton had a contract. Not a legally binding one, since what she did was highly illegal, but she’d agreed to work a set number of nights at the club in exchange for a much larger percentage. “I don’t really think this is for me, but I—”

“You need the money,” he said. “I get it. I’ll extend a one-night contract to you because I trust Payton. She thinks once you’ve had a taste you’re going to want more.”

I highly doubted that, but kept my mouth shut. It was totally dry anyway.

“You’re very pretty. Can you take your hair down for me?”

My hands fumbled to release the ponytail, and then I let my straight, chestnut brown hair fall down in a wave.

“Have you ever gone darker?”

I shook my head. I liked being low maintenance, hence the hair thrown back in a ponytail.

“I’ll need to see the other assets you’ve got now, to ensure you’re the kind of woman our customers desire.”

The air in the room went thin. I knew this was coming thanks to Payton. And since we’d been roommates, it’s not like she hadn’t seen me naked before, but it offered me little comfort now. This was the moment it started to feel real.

My hands lifted the shirt up over my heaving chest and then over my head before I set it in Payton’s waiting arms. Joseph was calm and collected, not leering at me, which I appreciated. I hurried to undo my jeans and shoved them down over my hips. I wanted it over as soon as possible, but my haste made me clumsy and awkward. If he had expected a sexy striptease, he wasn’t getting one.

I passed my wadded jeans to Payton, who ignored my shaking hands.

“Very nice,” he said, making me believe he was satisfied, until he added, “Please continue.”

I twisted my arms behind my back and undid the clasp of my bra, my nervous fingers fumbling with the hook. I wasn’t overly shy about my body under normal circumstances, but standing in the cramped room with the harsh lighting and two pairs of eyes on me made everything upside-down. The straps slid off my shoulders and down my arms, falling to the floor.

I didn’t give myself time to check with him for feedback. I hooked my thumbs under the waistband of my panties and yanked them down my legs, leaving them beside my bra, on the floor. Then, I rose and set my hands on my hips and lifted my eyes to Joseph’s. I was naked and vulnerable, but struggled not to reveal any of the insecurity threatening to paralyze me.

“Can you turn?”

My feet were cinder blocks, but I complied. I finished the turn, looking at him for some sort of confirmation or disapproval. A lifetime passed and all he did was stare and evaluate. I ached for a response.

“Excellent,” he finally said, and gave me a crooked smile. “I have to gauge your level of comfort now.”

He stood and his hands undid his zipper. I hadn’t noticed that he was already semi-hard and bulging through his pants.

“What?” Instinctively I took a half-step backward.

He had his dick out in an instant, stroking himself until he was completely hard. “I want you to suck me off. Right now.”

“What?” I said again, my eyes darting to Payton. “Here?”

Was he serious? Payton had her lips pressed together, and then . . . she gave me the slightest nod. Oh, yes, he was serious.

“I need to know you’re not going to get cold feet with a client. If you can do this, I’ll feel comfortable putting you on the list.” While he talked, he continued to stroke himself slowly, and I couldn’t help but watch, hypnotized and disoriented.

“Evie—” Payton whispered.

Was she going to tell me not to? Because I’d already come too far to back down. The prints had been ordered, and I couldn’t get a loan or borrow from my parents, and Payton had blown all of her money on a new car.

“I can do this,” I said, more for myself than for anyone else. It’s not like this was the first blowjob I’d ever given, but it would undoubtedly be the least sexy. I took a tentative step forward and sank down before him, my knees resting on the cold, unforgiving tile.

I used a hand to tuck a lock of my wayward hair behind an ear. His dick was fat and hard, and right in front of my face. So I reached a hesitant hand out and wrapped my fingers around the firm flesh. My brain disconnected, I parted my lips, and slid him inside my mouth.

“Fuck, that’s good,” he whispered.

I was sure I would feel immediate revulsion, but instead I felt nothing. I wanted to focus and get my task done. I didn’t like failing. I pulled him out and then slid him back in until the head of his dick touched the back of my throat.
You can do this
, I repeated over and over, and when I began to bob my head on him, I started to believe.

“Use your tongue.” His breathing was ragged.

I obeyed his command, drawing a moan from him. I’d never had a guy tell me what to do before. I think usually they were just thrilled I was down there.

“Suck on it.”

I did, and he let loose another deep moan. Honestly, his commands made this easier, but after a while my knees began to hurt, so I picked up the pace.

“That’s so fucking hot,” I heard Payton say. I’d been concentrating so hard I’d forgotten she was right there, and if I didn’t have her pimp’s dick in my mouth, I might have told her to shut up. But that was the anger I felt toward myself, misdirected at her. She may have encouraged this, but she certainly hadn’t forced me.

“You like watching me fuck her mouth?” he asked her. “Yeah, me too. She’s going to make me come.”

A hand wound into my hair, and his other hand seized my head under my chin, using his grip to guide me to pick up the tempo. His hips thrust faster and deeper, just barely avoiding my gag reflex. It was an unfamiliar feeling, not having control, but a part of me didn’t mind. I kind of liked it, and admitting that to myself made a small wave of pleasure and desire wash over me.

“Swallow,” he ordered. Then he was coming violently, filling my mouth with hot, thick liquid.

I did as asked. As the pulsing inside my mouth began to ebb, I withdrew from him, and rose up from my tender knees, stunned that this hadn’t been that bad. If I was truthful with myself, his commands had turned me on a little. I’d felt eager to please him.

The room was warm, and both pairs of eyes were on me as if waiting for me to do or say something. I crossed my arms over my bare chest, feeling awkward and hot.

Joseph recovered and zipped up, looking rather smug.

“I told you she’d be good,” Payton said quietly.

“You can get dressed now,” my new pimp said. “We’ve got a lot to talk about.”