Three Simple Rules (The Blindfold Club Book 1)

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Three Simple Rules (The Blindfold Club Book 1) Page 6

by Nikki Sloane


  “Is he really your boss?” She moved slowly. I could have opened ten Adobe programs in the time it took her to go to the hook and pull down the robe.

  “Yeah, he’s my boss. Can you go faster?” I tried to keep the edge from my voice.

  She placed the robe over my shoulders and slowly undid the first restraint. I pushed her hands out of the way so I could do the other and shrugged into the robe, wrapping it around me as I fled for the door.

  “Evelyn, you can’t,” she said quietly. “Let’s go upstairs.”

  As soon as I made it to the hall, a massive man with a huge forehead was waiting, like a bouncer. He didn’t say anything. He gave me a friendly smile and gestured to the stairs. Tara set her hand in the small of my back and urged me to go that way.

  “Once a client’s gone to the payment room, there’s no more contact. That’s for your safety.”

  I think I was numb with shock, on total emotional overload. When I blinked, I was back on that same couch in the lounge. Payton was already dressed.

  “It was Logan,” I said, still unable to make sense. How the hell did he know I was here? And how the fuck was I going to go into the office on Monday?

  “Your boss?”

  “Yeah,” Tara said, “Her hotter than the surface of the sun, boss.”

  “You didn’t tell me he was hot.” Payton accused me with a look. “All you said was he was an asshole.”

  “I never said that, he’s not—” Was I defending him? “He’s good looking but he’s my manager. And until tonight, I didn’t think he liked me.”

  Tara had a wide smile. “Jesus, you should have seen the look on his face when he came in and saw you.”

  I couldn’t even imagine. I didn’t know him, but now I wanted to know everything about him.

  Payton helped me get dressed. The bars were still open and she wanted to celebrate with a drink. I could barely focus on the simple task of pulling the dress on, how would I function in public? Adding to my confusion, Tara kissed me on the cheek and whispered a “thanks” before leaving, reminding me what I’d done.

  Oh, god.

  “I have to go home,” I said to Payton as we started for Joseph’s office.

  She stopped moving, her face frozen in an expression I didn’t understand. “You didn’t like it?” Her voice sounded like a ghost.

  I took a deep breath because it wasn’t easy to admit. “I did, I’m just on sensory overload.”

  She collapsed into a chair at the edge of the lounge.

  Panic rose inside me. I hadn’t seen her look unsteady before. “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m fucking relieved, is all.”

  “What? That I . . . liked it?” It wasn’t easier to say the second time either.

  “Yeah, because now I know there’s nothing seriously wrong with me. That I’m not all fucked up.”

  Now it made sense. She hadn’t told me her real reason so it wouldn’t invalidate her test results. She’d endured a lot of guys calling her whore and slut over the years. Their judgment always seemed to bounce off her. But she had a strict Catholic upbringing, and maybe deep down she worried there was truth there. That she enjoyed sex and that was wrong.

  “I did like it,” I said, finding strength. “It was mind-blowing, the greatest sex of my life. I may have done some things I’m not sure I’ll be super comfortable with tomorrow, but I’m not ashamed I enjoyed it.”

  Her smile was epic.

  Joseph gave me a fat manila envelope in his office. Before he could ask—

  “I’m sorry, but I don’t think it’s for me,” I said. “But thank you for everything.”

  “You know where we are if you change your mind.”

  I followed Payton down the stairs, through the hallway, and into the now-empty holding room, where the black guy with the clipboard sat on the couch.

  “You girls ready?” he asked, lumbering to his feet.

  “Yeah,” Payton said with a glowing smile. “How is it you’re always the one who escorts me out, Julius?”

  The enormous man beamed. “Just dumb luck, I think.”

  We went out the front door, and immediately I could sense something wasn’t right. Julius spread his arms out, blocking Payton and me from someone.

  “Evie,” I heard him say. What the hell was Blake still doing here?

  “I don’t know you, buddy,” Julius said to Blake. “You don’t have no business here. And you,” his head turned the opposite direction, “you I recognize, so you better get a move on. You ain’t allowed to stay.”

  My gaze went in the direction of whomever Julius was talking to, and I quieted a gasp.

  “Logan?”

  “You told me to wait,” he said, wearing a cryptic expression.

  When I glanced between the two men waiting for me, it turned their focus toward each other. I could see the distrust on Logan’s face. He’d recognized Blake from the picture, and after that exchange Blake must have assumed he’d been my client.

  “Blake, stop,” I yelled when he charged toward Logan. I ducked under Julius’ massive arm and got in between them. Blake’s face was raw anger and hurt, and even though I knew I wasn’t responsible, I hated I was the cause of it.

  Julius yelled at both the men to get back, to get fucking lost.

  “I know them, it’s all right,” I said. “Payton, help me out.”

  “Get out of here,” she yelled to Blake. “You had your chance, now run back home to your girlfriend who deserves way better than you.”

  “Fuck you, whore.”

  Payton looked smug. “Sorry, not enough money in the world.”

  Oh god, this was a mess. Logan watched the drama unfold, his eyes wary of the tall man fixated on me.

  “Evie, are you okay?” Blake calmed when he stopped looking at Payton. “Let me drive you home.”

  I’d been in love with him for so long, and my broken heart thudded in my chest when I spoke to him. “No. Go home.”

  His face turned sour, a mixture of loss and anger. I watched him climb into his car and tear off, not looking at me again. My hand hurt because I’d been clenching the envelope full of money tightly, not noticing I’d gone all white-knuckles.

  Julius didn’t like it when I took a step toward Logan. “You sure you wanna talk to him? I can make him go away.”

  “Yes.” Oh yes, I definitely wanted to talk to him.

  He leaned against a midnight-blue BMW, wearing the black suit he’d worn when Player’s had come in for an office visit, only this time there was no tie and two buttons had been left undone. I saw him through new eyes. My boss was stunningly handsome and powerfully sexy.

  He’d parked several car lengths down from the club, and when I reached him, he stood.

  “Who is that guy?” His demand was hushed, perhaps wanting privacy from Julius and Payton who watched from near the doorway.

  “A friend,” I said, then thought better of it. “I don’t know, it’s complicated.”

  “Come home with me.”

  I wished I’d had a witty comeback or biting remark, but my brain failed me. “What?”

  He slipped his hand gently behind my neck and whispered in my ear. “That’s rule number one.”

  Logan moved quickly, setting a hand on my hip to hold me, and dropped his head so his mouth could claim mine in a kiss. After everything in that room, this was the first time it had happened. It was so slow and seductive that I melted into it. Hands cupped my face, tilting my head to just the right angle so he could tease me with a hint of his tongue. He asked for more, and I welcomed it.

  My hands followed his lead and circled his neck, and I pressed my body against his, wanting the kiss to deepen further. Oh my god, I wanted more. I wanted him.

  “Come home with me,” he commanded in his deep voice, one I couldn’t disobey. I was too curious about his reasons to give any other answer anyway. Gravity pulled me to him.

  “Okay.”

  He pulled the passenger door open, like he was a gentl
eman. I stared into the empty car then back to him. If I didn’t get into this car, I wouldn’t get any answers.

  “I’m gonna go,” I yelled to Payton. She flashed a gigantic smile and waved me off, then slipped her arm through Julius’ and headed for her car.

  There was a bottle of wine sitting in the passenger seat. I grabbed it and sat, setting it in my lap along with my purse and the envelope, and gave a nervous smile to Logan as he shut my door. Oh. My. God. What was I doing?

  His car had a soft leather interior that I sank back into. The bottle of wine was cold in my hands, and the label had the same logo as the club.

  “I guess this is a complimentary gift with purchase,” I said when he slipped into the driver’s seat.

  “No, that was my purchase. You were the complimentary gift.”

  My pulse quickened. He started the car, put it in gear, and eased away from the curb. Once we were in traffic, he set his right hand on the bare skin just above my knee. I jumped, startled by how nonchalant it was for him. Casual, easy, yet dominating. The warmth of his skin gave me goosebumps.

  We rode in silence, and it made me tense and anxious. I wanted him to talk, but he seemed content to study the traffic and act as if what we had just done had never happened.

  “How did you know I would be at the club?”

  He snatched the bottle of wine out of my hands and set it in the cup holder, then pushed everything in my lap to the floorboard.

  “That,” his hand glided to the inside of my knee and a few inches up from where it had been, “is definitely rule number one.”

  “In case you hadn’t noticed, we’re not there anymore.”

  “I paid for a night with you, and in case you hadn’t noticed, it’s night out.” A half smile twisted on his lips. “You’re still under my rules.”

  “No, I am not.”

  We reached a stoplight, and he turned a cold and commanding gaze my direction. “You’re in my car, and soon you’ll be in my place. My rules, Evelyn.”

  “I had no idea what I was agreeing to,” I blurted out. This authoritative version of him chilled me and yet set me on fire. The dark timbre of his voice shot straight between my legs, made me weak with excitement. I ripped my gaze away from his and watched the traffic, the people gathered outside bars smoking and chatting in the warm August night. The car lurched forward when the light turned green. How was I supposed to get answers if I couldn’t ask questions?

  “What’s on your mind?” he asked.

  It was the first test. I didn’t respond, curious to see what he’d do. Would he make good on his threat of punishment? He gave a sideways glance to me, and shoved my knees apart so he could put his hands on top of my panties.

  “Answer me or I’ll take you right to the edge and leave you hanging.”

  My mouth fell open so I could draw air into my lungs. I knew he could do it, and he certainly did, too.

  “I’m wondering,” my voice was breathless, “how this is going to work on Monday, if you’ll go back to disliking me.”

  “You still think after what I just did, that I dislike you?” His fingers moved and pleasure strummed through me. I issued a soft moan, and a hint of a cocky smile teased his lips. “I told you I thought about asking you out before.”

  “You really think people care that much about whether you get involved with an employee?” Crap, rule number one. His fingers pushed my panties to the side and touched me unhindered, making my hands clench around his wrist.

  “They would if I promoted you.” His fingers moved faster, torturing me.

  “You’re going to promote me?”

  He slipped his whole finger inside me and I gasped. Yes, my body chanted, yes. 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.

 

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