Three Dirty Secrets (Blindfold Club 4)

“You’re gonna come on this hand,” he ordered. “Then I’m going to lick my fingers and taste it.”

I convulsed and bucked in pleasure at his dirty mouth. Christ, when had I ever had someone talk like this to me?

“And then you’re going to put them in my mouth.”

His fingers drove hard, thrusting up into a spot so deep my knees shook. “Yeah? You want these fingers in your mouth?”

“I’d rather have your Magnum forty-four.”

He blinked. “My what?”

“Magnum . . .” I tried not to pant it. “Forty-four. Your cock’s too big to refer to as a small pistol.”

“Shit, you sound like my sister.”

What the fuck? I ceased moving and my muscles locked up.

Silas’s expression turned to horror. “Whoa. That came out all kinds of wrong. I meant you sound like a cop.”

Chapter

EIGHT

His fingers were still inside me, but he too had stopped moving. I struggled to recover. “Your sister’s a cop?”

“Yeah. Well, kind of. She’s a U.S. Marshal.”

He’d introduced himself earlier as Silas Getty. I blinked as I evaluated what this meant. I didn’t work with the U.S. Marshals much. I’d helped them with a case in July, but it’d been indirectly. I’d never spoken with her, but I always paid attention when another woman advanced. Even in this day and age, the authoritarian branches of government were still a boys’ club. So it had been big news when Caroline Getty had been promoted to Chief Deputy. I’d heard she was tough as nails, and I’d felt tremendous pride she’d gotten the role.

The woman in charge of the Chicago Marshals was Silas’s sister? I couldn’t imagine she’d like a Fed fucking around with her brother, and she’d be even less thrilled about me being undercover during it.

His fingers began to move, bringing me back to the situation until I was painfully aware. My mind fought against it, but my body screamed for release. I moaned when the heel of his palm ground against my clit, and sparks of pleasure shot from his touch.

“How,” he asked, “does a cop end up working at Joseph’s club? That place isn’t exactly on the up-and-up.”

I was already busy thinking of how to deescalate the situation and couldn’t follow his question. “What?”

“You talk like a cop. You act like a cop.” His hand continued to thrust into me. In, and out, at a pace the illogical side of me thought was so fucking good.

“I’m . . . an accountant.” This wasn’t a lie. I’d gotten my degree in accounting. “Not a cop. What do you mean I act like one?”

He was back to staring at my mouth again, the same lust glazing his eyes. “I grew up in a family of cops, so I notice the little things, same as you.”

He dipped his head down. His cheek was against mine, and he began to drag the sharp edges of his scruff across my skin, making his way toward my lips. I inhaled sharply at the sensation, but all that did was make him harder to resist. He smelled good, like soap and pine.

His voice was soft but confident. “Like how you evaluate the room. I bet you can tell me where all the exits are.” He kissed the corner of my mouth, pumping his fingers inside my panties. “It’s your eyes. They’re always moving.” I shuddered as an orgasm began to threaten. “You’ve got cop eyes.”

“I’m not a cop.” I turned my head away from his and buried it in my arm. It probably made me look guilty, but I didn’t like the idea of coming while he was studying me. I’d shown him enough vulnerability today.

It’s not like I could tell him the full truth. I’d sought Silas on Joseph’s recommendation. Even though Joseph didn’t run the club anymore, it’d take all of a second for my cover to be blown to shit.

I knew I should stop Silas, but my greedy body overruled it. Instead, I moved to match his strokes. I let my pussy bear down on his fingers, trying to pull him deeper inside. I wanted him to yank my pants down, shove his cock inside me, and take me to oblivion. Since I’d turned away, he took to kissing my neck. A line of goosebumps lifted in eager response. Hell, every part of me wanted to be closer to him.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” I whispered. Oh, how the tables had turned.

His fingers retreated, but only so he could focus them directly on my clit, manipulating it with skill. My legs trembled and his grip on my wrists became support, rather than restraint. I sank my teeth into the soft muscle of my own arm, trying to keep quiet. Struggling not to come. Because if I came, I’d feel obligated to return the favor, and I should end this before it was too late.

Yet I couldn’t form the words.