Three Simple Rules (The Blindfold Club #1) (9 page)

“You’re going to promote me?”

He slipped his whole finger inside me and I gasped.
Yes
, my body chanted, y
es
. The strength was gone from my hands around his wrist, but they remained, urging him to go faster, deeper, to give it to me exactly how I liked it.

“Do you like that? My finger inside you?”

I swallowed hard and nodded faintly.

“Tell me with words.”

There was no oxygen in this car, so it was hardly audible. “I like it.”

I was only marginally aware we’d turned from the street into a parking garage beneath one of the high-rises. As he drove down the aisle, my climax grew closer.

“Almost there,” he said. Was he talking about his place or my orgasm? He parked the car and shut off the engine, then he had both hands under my skirt. I was panting. I clawed at him, pulling his head to me, and crashed my lips against his.

He allowed it for a moment. But then he completely withdrew from me, staying true to his word. Oh god, I was desperate. I felt like he was being cruel, and yet he’d forgotten an important detail. I didn’t have use of my hands at the club, but I did now.

He grabbed the bottle of wine around the neck, pushed open his door, and climbed out, not realizing I hadn’t done the same. I shoved a hand under my panties, not caring if there was anyone else in the garage who could see me. After this crazy night, I was completely out of control.

He’d come around to my side to open the door for me like I was a lady. Instead he saw me touching myself. Heat flashed through his gorgeous eyes, but his face maintained its usual intensity.

“You are not going to break any more rules tonight. Certainly not that rule.” He pushed my hands away and pulled me to my feet. “I told you, this is mine.” He ran his hand between my legs, lifting my skirt with it, rubbing me for a moment. The independent side of me protested but the basic woman in me loved it.

I grabbed the envelope and my purse off the floor and followed him to the elevator.

“I think I prefer you naked,” he murmured against my neck while we rode up to the forty-forth floor, “but this dress is a very close second.” His fingertips skimmed over the bare skin of my back and drew a shiver from me.

His apartment was only a few doors down from the elevator, and when he turned on the lights inside, it made me angry.

“How much are they paying you that you can afford rent on this?”

The door shut behind him and his hands went to my hips, forcing me face-first against the wall.

“That was rhetorical,” I said when his body flattened mine. He sank his teeth into the flesh of my earlobe. It was controlling, and hot. “I just meant your place is nice.”

“It’s not my place. I mean, it is and it isn’t. I’m renting it from a friend who holds the lease.” Hands caressed the curves of my body, holding me against the wall. “He’s in Japan for the next year and didn’t want to lose the place, so his company pays half the rent and I pay the other. Otherwise, no, I couldn’t afford it.”

He released me and let me wander further inside.

It’s not like the apartment was a penthouse, but it was spacious with an open kitchen where everything looked brand new. The living room was just beyond the granite breakfast bar, and the back wall was one seamless sheet of glass, floor to ceiling.

This apartment had the most unbelievable view of North Beach possible. Even at the dead of the night, I could see the outline of the lake and the marina.

“Wow,” I said.

“I’m already dreading moving out. Nothing’s going to compare.” He set the bottle of wine on the counter and opened a drawer, fishing out a corkscrew. I saw wine glasses hanging underneath a cabinet and pulled them out, setting them right side up for him.

I studied his long fingers as he cut the foil. Not being allowed to ask questions made starting a simple conversation difficult, and he seemed to like the silence. I didn’t. I could be smart about it; he usually responded when I made a comment or observation.

“I don’t like not being able to ask you questions about how tonight happened.”

“That must be frustrating for you.” He uncorked the bottle, filled the glasses half full with the red wine, and passed me one. He was playfully smug about his rules.

I took a sip of the wine. It was dry and I didn’t care for it, and when I set the glass down, a smile twitched on his lips.

“You don’t like my twelve thousand dollar bottle of wine?”

“It doesn’t taste like twelve grand to me.”

“But I know you do.”

I was nervous when he closed the distance between us and an arm went tight around my waist. His head dipped down to mine, and he kissed me, his mouth dominating and possessive. It sent my heart rate through the roof. Jesus, this man knew how to kiss.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked.

“I’m glad you didn’t kiss me during negotiations.”

His brown eyes were curious. “Why?”

“Because I would have agreed to your opening bid. Or I might have countered with a lower one.”

He seemed pleased to hear that. He set down his glass and put his hands on me, lifting me up to seat me on the counter top. The granite was cold against my burning skin.

This next kiss was more aggressive. It dripped with lust and the promise of more pleasure as his hands skimmed over my thighs, working up. I set one hand on his defined jawline, as if I could steady myself by touching him, but it only made the room spin harder. I could feel control slipping away.

Logan grew hard between my legs, pressing himself against my center. His hand went to my shoulder and he guided me to lean back, to lie on the counter, his hand brushing over my breast as I went. But I only went back so far, staying up on my elbows.

He tugged my skirt to my hips, working it up slowly and methodically as he licked his lips, and gave me a view of the tongue that had me practically begging for him on that table.
Oh, fuck.

“You want to watch?” He had a wicked look in his eyes.

The shy girl I had once been was nowhere. I’d destroyed her when I marched into Logan’s office earlier this week. Who’d have guessed I’d end up here, enjoying my punishment?

“I didn’t get to watch last time.”

He didn’t take my panties off. His fingers traced the seam just inside my thigh and pulled the fabric to the side. Then he bent down, set my legs on his shoulders, and kissed me right where I wanted him to. Logan’s eyes fell shut like he was savoring me. He slipped his tongue through my flesh, used his hands to spread me open, and licked. Intense, delicious heat spread from it. It was addicting.
He
was addicting.

Watching him feast on me was exquisite torture. I had to fight for each breath when he opened his eyes and checked to see if I were still viewing the show.

“I’m going to come,” I half-pleaded.

“No, you’re not.”

My elbows gave out, and my back was cold against the granite, Logan not relenting or giving permission. Need clawed inside me and screamed for release. I had to focus elsewhere. Fucking anywhere else.
Do not think about the tongue lapping at you
. My head fell to one side and I latched onto the first thing I saw.

A framed poster on the wall. It wasn’t an artistic photograph or reproduction of famous artwork. It was an advertisement for a sports car. I’d worked with him long enough to recognize his style anywhere.

“When did you . . .” No, no questions. God only knows what kind of delicious punishment he’d give me right now. “I’ve never seen that one before. It’s amazing.”

He lifted for a split second to see what I was talking about, and his eyes softened with the compliment. “I did it right before you started.” When his head dipped back down, I grabbed a fistful of his soft hair, tunneling my fingers through it.

It was like my praise lit a match inside him, for he was much more intense and urgent, somehow as desperate for the orgasm as I was. He put one long finger inside me and curled it back, quickly finding the spot that would send me tumbling out of control.

“Please, I need to. . .” I gasped.

“Say my name when you do it.”

Pleasure slammed into me, burning across my skin, across every nerve. I jerked and my knee sent one of the wine glasses plummeting to the tile floor, followed by the sound of glass shattering.

I think I would have screamed his name regardless of his demand.

“You know, I have neighbors,” he teased, releasing his hold on my panties, and they snapped back in place.

I fought to return to earth. “Sorry about the glass.”

His strong hand closed around one of my wrists and he helped me sit up. “Don’t worry about it, that’s my fault for letting you come.”

“For letting me . . .” Shit, phrase it as a statement. It was like some twisted version of Jeopardy. “You say that like you don’t want it to happen.”

His hand threaded into my hair and pulled back, tilting my head up to him. “I’d prefer it if you only came on my cock.”

It could have been his words or the recent orgasm, but I shuddered.

“Would you like that?” His face was seductive and powerful. “To come on my cock again?”

I didn’t have to do this; I’d made the money I needed to. I could leave the envelope with my name scrawled on it on his countertop since our business transaction was complete. I’d come home with him to get answers, but now I had a new goal. What he was asking . . . what my boss was asking, was if I
wanted
to sleep with him.

“Yes.”

Oh, fuck, yes.

chapter

SEVEN

He didn’t clean up the wine or the broken glass. He ordered me to wrap my arms and legs around him so he could carry me into his darkened bedroom. He took one knee and laid me back on the perfectly made queen-sized bed, stepping away to slip off his suit coat and disappeared into the walk-in closet.

The light flicked on, and I rose to sit, watching him. Fingers worked the buttons of his dress shirt, cuffs first and then to the collar, and down. When it was peeled off and placed on a hanger, my eyes lusted over every delicious curve of his muscles. My brain-to-mouth filter stopped working. “Holy shit, you’re gorgeous.”

He blinked, like he was stunned. Surely a man like him had heard that or something similar before, but then again, I’m sure it’s always nice to hear.

“I believe that’s my line,” he said. “Take off your dress.”

Why did I like this? A man ordering me around was supposed to incur my fiery wrath. Instead I lifted onto my knees and obeyed, dragging the fabric up and over my head, tossing it aside so I was kneeling on the bed in only my panties, my breasts bared so he could fuck me with those fascinating eyes.

“When you came in on Wednesday,” he undid his belt and stepped out of his pants, “I didn’t recognize you until you sat down at your desk.” He approached the bed, locking a hand onto my hip where the panties clung and began to ease them down. “I almost had to jack off under my desk after you left my office.”

What? This side of him was shocking and exciting. “That would have been highly inappropriate.”

He smirked. “Oh, you think so?”

While he was peeling my underwear down, I shoved a hand beneath his boxers and wrapped my fingers around his dick. Maybe it was a side effect from the straps at the club, but I loved the feel of him. I loved being able to touch, to feel him jerk in my hands, to get to tease him as he did to me.

“I want to go down on you,” I said, not knowing where that came from. I mean, I liked doing that, but it wasn’t something I usually announced.

“What a surprise,” he said, deadpan. “I want that, too.” He sat with his back against his headboard and discarded his boxers, his dick standing at attention. I’d already forgotten how large he was, and he must have noticed the concern on my face.

“What?”

“You’re huge,” I said, uneasy.

“This shouldn’t be new information to you.”

Oh, I didn’t know he could be funny. “How am I going to fit that in my mouth?”

He froze. “Was that a question?”

“Nope.”

I didn’t give him time to react or think of a way to punish me. I slid down on the bed, opened my mouth as wide as it could go, and took him inside. His breath left in a hiss.

“Seems to fit all right.”

I loved going down on men, loved knowing he wasn’t thinking about anything else but what I was doing to him. I ran my tongue over the velvety head of his dick and began to slide him in and out. Controlling him this way . . . it was addictive.

I used my hands on him, squeezing one hard and pumping him when I took my mouth off for a moment. Then I kept my lips tight and shoved him back inside, making him groan. I sucked and flicked my tongue, doing everything I could to return some of the pleasure he’d given me, pushing thoughts away that this man held sway over my career. I didn’t want to think about the repercussions of this night. He’d started it anyway.