Three Simple Rules (The Blindfold Club #1)

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

by Nikki Sloane


  The relationship between Susan and Logan’s dad was cordial, according to Logan. His dad hadn’t remarried, but had a live-in girlfriend.

  As soon as we’d parked by the picturesque church, he ran around to open my car door for me and took my hand. I hoped he thought it was the warm weather that had it sweaty. I found mass-introductions terrifying, and I was horrible at remembering names.

  We’d only made it up a few steps outside the church before it began. It was a parade of faces and handshakes, and then I was deposited in a pew beside a cousin who’d been charged with one of the readings. I had no idea if she was from the bride’s side or Nick’s, but she was friendly and charming, and I was pissed at myself for insta-forgetting her name.

  Nick didn’t look a whole lot like Logan. He was handsome in a wholesome, boyish way, less of a hard edge. I watched him joke with his groomsmen, looking completely at ease. Excited, like he couldn’t wait to get married.

  Hilary was petite with a huge mane of curly hair and big eyes, and she seemed physically unable to look anywhere else but at her fiancé. They were hands-down the most adorable couple I’d seen.

  Occasionally I’d catch Logan’s eye and give him a small smile. I couldn’t wait to see him standing beside his brother tomorrow. Was there anything more romantic than watching two people pledge their love to each other? It wasn’t like I was going to turn into a pile of mush about it; I wasn’t much of a crier. But it would be hard not to fall under the spell of the day, just a little bit.

  When the rehearsal was over, I waited until she was free and then went to Susan.

  “Hi,” I said in my friendliest voice, “I’m sorry I was so rude before, when we met—”

  “Oh, honey, don’t be silly, you were fine. I’m sorry for barging in on you two. It was nice to finally meet you. I was beginning to think you weren’t real.”

  I felt a hand on my back, and Logan appeared at my side, and soon after I was whisked away to meet the rest of his family involved in the wedding. We sat with his father and his girlfriend at dinner, who both seemed like nice people. His father was a man of few words, and often I felt compelled to fill the silence when neither of the Stone men would. To my delight, and I suspect Logan’s horror, there was a slideshow of the bride and groom, pictures of them growing up and when they first started dating.

  “Nice shorts,” I whispered to him when there was a soccer photo of him and Nick. He couldn’t have been more than eight, and apparently, his hair hadn’t always been perfect. But in this picture it was perfectly adorable. He’d been a cute kid.

  There was one later in the show of Nick and Logan, in athletic apparel, flushed and sweaty, each with medals around their necks that boasted they’d finished last year’s Chicago Marathon. Even after running twenty-six miles, he still looked amazing.

  “When’s your next race?” I asked. “In case I wanted to come, or, you know, sit at home and feel like a sloth.”

  He gave a slight smile. “The marathon’s October eleventh.”

  I pulled out my phone and put it in my calendar.

  When dinner was over, we mingled for a little while longer, and then said goodnight. Most of Nick’s family lived in Oak Park and were heading back toward the city like we were. Traffic wasn’t bad for once, and we chatted about the rehearsal dinner.

  “I didn’t get grilled by anyone,” I said.

  “I think that will be tomorrow. We’re sitting with my mom’s family.” His hand brushed a little further up my leg. It sent shivers up my spine and made me reconsider the plans I’d made for us to meet Payton for drinks. You’d think it had been three years since I’d been with him and not three days.

  We stopped at my apartment to pick up my overnight bag. Yesterday Logan had asked me to stay with him at his place tonight. He’d booked a hotel room for tomorrow, teasing we were going to try to out drink Hilary’s Irish Catholic family. Two days with him, non-stop. It was too much and too soon, but I didn’t care. I suspect this was the true reason he’d denied my orgasms. He wanted to ensure I’d agree to it because I was too desperate not to. Plus, I think he was worried I would make him late.

  “What the hell happened here? Did someone break in and clean your place?”

  “No, this is your fault for telling me no all those times I asked for permission.”

  He flashed a smile and then looked at his watch. “I assume we don’t have time to get in the closet.”

  I laughed and got hot at the same time. “No, we don’t.”

  He helped me load my overnight bag in his car, and this time, when I was seated in the passenger side, his hand went to my knee and dragged upward, carrying my skirt with it.

  He made a noise of disappointment when his fingers brushed the silk edge of my panties. “I was hoping you weren’t wearing anything under your skirt.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Sorry, not when I’m meeting your family.”

  “That’s done now, so take them off and put them in the glove box.”

  I blinked at the challenge, momentarily stunned. My hands went under the dress and I pulled them down slowly, the damp fabric running over the skin on the inside of my thighs. I wouldn’t have thought this was sexy, but I liked the idea that part of me would be in his car.

  The compartment clicked closed and his fingers were on me. Sliding in me, circling where I was aroused. I was instantly out of breath and my hand latched onto the leather-wrapped door handle.

  “This,” he said, fucking me with his fingers, first one and then another, “is where I’m going to put my cock tonight. Would you like that?”

  “Yes,” I gasped and opened my legs wider to give him better access. His windows were tinted, but still, anyone in an SUV who got close could look down and see what he was doing to me.

  “Do you want me to make you come?”

  “Fuck, yes,” I moaned. His fingers pumped in and out, building to a furious pace.

  “Use your hand too, since I can’t use both of mine. Help me get you off.”

  I was eager to obey the command. My left hand rubbed my clit while his fingers slammed inside me, making my grip tighten on the door. The need took hold, forced my hips to match his rhythm while I touched myself shamelessly. I probably should have been worried about his focus being on the road, but . . . shit. I felt completely out of control. A willing slave to the desire for him, that built, and built . . .

  “I need permission—”

  “Yes,” he said. “I can’t wait to come inside that pussy.”

  The realization that that was going to happen was his final push to send me over the cliff and tumble into an orgasm that was like a bite right on my center. I cried out and shoved his hand away, overly sensitive to his touch, shuddering on his leather seat.

  He parked and turned the car off, turning his focus to me, watching the aftershocks of my orgasm rock my body. I closed my eyes, letting the blood rushing in my ears quiet some. I was surprised to see him still sitting there, watching me. He’d always moved so quickly to get my door.

  “Is everything okay?” I put a hand on his cheek.

  “I just need a minute, is all.” For his massive erection to go away. “I don’t think you realize how much I like watching you come.”

  “Probably not as much as I like you doing it. You’re pretty good at it.”

  He leaned forward and kissed me on the cheek, just to the side of my lips. Frustration was immediate. I missed his lips on mine.

  “I give up, Logan. Please, kiss me.”

  He had a look like it was a bittersweet victory, and his eyes went clear. “Tomorrow. If you’re a good girl.” He threw open his door and rounded the car, leaving me stunned and full of anticipation.

  Payton could wear anything and look good. She had on a low-cut ivory sequined top and black tuxedo jacket, paired with jeans that looked like they’d been handcrafted for her. She spent hours in the gym every other day, and it showed.

  Logan was attracted to her. Just about every person in th
e bar was, and it wasn’t a big deal. I was used to it. I appreciated Logan’s attempt to not stare at her full breasts that were teasing out of the top of her shirt.

  “You paid big money to sleep with my girl, here,” Payton said.

  “It was well spent,” he replied.

  A smile grew on her face. “So I’ve heard from both Evie and Tara.”

  He glanced at me, confused. He hadn’t heard that name before.

  “Tara was the woman in the room with us,” I said in a hushed voice. I wasn’t ashamed of it, but still not comfortable saying it out loud.

  “She had nice things to say about you, Logan.” Payton toyed with the straw in her drink. “Very nice things to say about Evie.”

  “Can we, like, not talk about that?” I shifted on my feet in the yellow heels that were amazing and torturous.

  “Nope,” she said, setting her sights back on Logan. “First threesome for you?”

  My mouth hung open and I had to make an effort to shut it. I hadn’t asked him that when I had the chance. And now I realized there were a whole bunch of other questions I should have asked. When he’d lost his virginity. Craziest place he’d done it. How many girls had let him go in the back.

  “Yeah, but it wasn’t really what I’d consider a threesome.”

  Payton nodded. “Because you couldn’t touch. Yeah, that’s extra. Like, double extra.”

  “Does that happen a lot?” he asked.

  “No, usually if it’s a three-way, the guy brings in his girlfriend or wife. Paying for one girl’s expensive enough.”

  She finished her drink, and Logan signaled to the bartender she wanted another, and his hand fell to rest on my hip, his arm around my back. The bar was getting crowded, and I liked being pressed against him, almost in a possessive way. I was his.

  “I’m curious,” Payton said, “why did you ask Tara to stay and watch?”

  He gave her a tight smile, and I could sense his shields were getting ready to come up. “How far are you planning to go into my sexual preferences?”

  “As far as you’ll let me.”

  “I asked her to stay because I thought she was hot. I was hoping she’d want to join in.”

  The bartender set down a new drink, but Payton ignored it. Her gaze was fixed on him, serious. “You’re lying.”

  She’d always been so good at reading people. Even the perfect actor Logan Stone didn’t have her fooled. From the sharp inhale of breath, I could tell he was off-guard. He didn’t like being called a liar, even if it was true.

  His dark eyes never glanced my direction as he spoke. “Fine. I asked her to stay because I wasn’t sure I could go through with it.”

  chapter

  TWELVE

  This was truth that he’d hesitantly revealed.

  “Because you were my boss?”

  He finally looked at me and his face was a mess. “Because I wasn’t planning on taking off the blindfold, so I wasn’t sure I could be that guy. The one you were forced to sleep with to fix a mistake that was as much mine as it was yours.”

  The guilt he carried over my mistake was crushing. Still crushing him. I never wanted to kiss him more than I did right then.

  “That mistake brought us together,” I whispered in his ear.

  He blinked, stunned, and realization slowly washed over his face. The hand on me tightened subtly.

  Payton looked pleased and snatched the drink up off of the bar. “Keep that in mind, Logan. I am the human lie detector, so don’t bullshit my girl.”

  “Understood.”

  “Did you like performing for Tara?” She waved to a guy across the way from us, who shot back a, “Who, me?” look. She nodded, motioning for him to come over. “Would you want to do that again?”

  Logan and I exchanged a look.

  “Why are you asking?” I said.

  She shrugged. “Tara said you two together were, like, the hottest thing she’d seen.” The guy she’d waved over was working his way through the throng of people. “I want to watch you two fuck.”

  Logan had no response. He turned to me with those same stunned eyes.

  “Payton,” I said, “I’m not comfortable with that.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I’m not sure I’m comfortable with anyone watching, and you’re my best friend. That’s . . . it’s just too weird.”

  Again, she shrugged and tousled her hair when the guy walked over.

  “Do I know you?” he asked, a curious smile on his face.

  “No,” she replied. “Wouldn’t you like to?”

  I had warned Logan during the drive into the city that Payton was direct, and sexual, but even this request had shocked me.

  “That was interesting,” he said, holding the bar door open for me as we left.

  “Yeah.” And embarrassing. “I’m sorry.”

  His face was completely serious. “Why? Didn’t you think it was flattering?”

  My best friend wanted to watch us. Awkward, yes. But flattering? “I don’t know, I guess.”

  He looked amused. “Don’t worry, I’m perfectly happy without an audience.”

  I walked beside him, desperate not to appear I was limping on the shoes. He fumbled with his keys, and when the door was unlocked, he didn’t open it. Instead he pressed me back against it. His lips brushed over my neck and sparks shimmered through my skin, electricity showering down on me. My hands went inside his jacket and around his waist, holding his hard body against mine. But it wasn’t enough.

  “I want you,” I said. In fact, I might have purred it.

  “Hope you don’t mind if I drive fast then.”

  No, I didn’t. I put my hand on his lap as he drove, high above his knee, the side of my pinky finger against his semi-hard dick. What type of sex waited for me in his apartment? Whatever kind, it was sure to be intense. It didn’t seem like Logan was capable of having mediocre, run-of-the-mill sex.

  On the elevator ride up, his mouth was hot by my ear. “Where are your panties?”

  I flushed under his victorious gaze. I’d left them in his car, forgotten. “You know where they are, boss.”

  He dropped my bags just inside the door and didn’t bother with any lights, which only made the view out the window more unbelievable. I was drawn toward it and the orange-yellow line of the streetlights on Lake Shore Drive. Arms circled me from behind and pressed me forward. Further until I was up against the cold glass.

  He didn’t say anything, not that he had to. His body pressed into me, molded to mine, his hips surging forward while hands pulled me to arch back into him. His teeth nipped at my ear. His mouth feathered kisses lower. I fogged the glass with each staggered breath I took and enjoyed the rush to be right against the glass, forty-four stories up in the air.

  It was a back zipper on the dress, which I felt him draw down ever so slowly, like he was going tooth by tooth. Fingers slipped under my bra band and it went slack, undone. But he wasn’t so much undressing me as he was getting clothes out of his way. Moving them to the side so he could slip his large hands inside the dress, sliding them over my skin, caressing my back.

  My palms were flat on the glass by my chest, so when his fingernails raked gently down my skin, I tried to push off. I was already insane for him.

  “No,” he said, one hand pressing my shoulder back into the glass, while his hips moved, insinuating that he wanted to fuck me right here, right like this. His dick was hard against my ass, pressing into me.

  “Keep your hands on the glass.”

  My feet were killing me. The strap across my toes bit into my flesh, but I followed his orders, and he rewarded me by pulling one shoulder of the dress and bra down and then the other so they were bunched around my waist. My nipples were tight and hard, and he skimmed his fingers over one before rolling it between his thumb and forefinger, pushing it forward to kiss the cold pane of glass.

  I made a noise of satisfaction and desperation. I didn’t want foreplay. That’s what the last thre
e days had been. I whimpered and a belt unbuckled. His zipper was undone. Air was cool on my ass cheeks when he hiked the skirt of the dress up to my waist, so the whole dress was bunched there.

  Without words, he used his body to show me how he needed me to be to best bring us together, pulling my lower body away from the glass and leaning me over.

  I was dripping wet between my thighs and he took full advantage. His dick slipped between the hollow of my legs, rubbing himself in my wetness, getting himself ready to take me. His soft skin against my slick skin, with no latex between us, made me tremble.

  “Are you okay with this?” he asked, his subtle movement teasing me. “No condom?”

  “I’ve never done that before, but, yeah.”

  He blew out a long breath, and then positioned himself so he could press into me, pushing slowly. My eyes were closed and my arms crossed on the glass, my forehead resting on them.

  “Holy fuck,” he whispered. “Something that feels this good should be illegal.” And he wasn’t even inside me all the way yet. My body wasn’t as resistant as before. It was hardly uncomfortable.

  I could feel everything, every inch as he advanced in me.

  “Does it feel good?”

  “Yes,” I gasped. “Oh my god, more.”

  I moaned and bit my lip when he pushed all the way in, his skin against the skin of my backside. Just having him inside me was like setting the roller coaster cars on the track, climbing up that first big hill. His hands were on the dress at my waist, holding it in place. He seemed to be holding himself in place.

  “Are you ready?” he asked.

  Ready? Ready for –?

  A sound of immense pleasure welled up from deep inside me when he withdrew and then slammed back into me, deeper than he’d been before. All of him touching me inside and out.

  He fucked me, harder with each thrust until I couldn’t breathe. My legs shook, my eyes rolled back into my head. It’d never been like this before. My cries of pleasure swelled as my orgasm approached like a freight train. I had to put my hands flat on the glass again to steady myself as he drove into me.

 

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