Three Little Mistakes (Blindfold Club 3)

“You didn’t answer the question.” Her voice was just louder than the swipe of the rubber against glass.

“You didn’t answer mine, either.” She was lit by the soft light of my dash, casting shadows across her angular face. Goddamn, she was pretty.

M touched her bruised cheek, wincing slightly.

“I . . . think you’re interesting.”

My pulse jumped at the admission. “Yeah? Maybe I think the same of you.” I wrapped my fingers around the gear shift between us, putting my hand closer to her body, and I could feel heat radiating from her. “Where are we going, M?”

“Lincoln Park.”

The Porsche slipped out of the alleyway, snow growling beneath my tires. “Where do you go to school?”

“Loyola, for my MBA.” After a few moments of quiet, she continued, “How do you like owning your own business?”

“It’s great. Busy, though.”

“I’m sure.”

The wipers continued their slow, slick slide over the glass, generating the only sound between us. I stared at the glowing taillights ahead of me. In downtown Chicago you’ll hit traffic at any hour, any day of the week, even Thursday at one in the morning. Technically Friday. And the snow didn’t help, either.

“I haven’t ever done this before,” she said.

“Done what? Ridden in a Porsche?”

She paused. “Gone home from a bar with a stranger.”

Is that where she saw this going? Was she going to invite me in when we arrived? “It’s going to be a long drive,” I said. “We don’t have to be strangers, Martha.”

“Martha?” Her laugh was light and warm. “You honestly think that’s my name?”

“You could give me a hint.”

She leaned back, relaxing into the seat. “Okay, here’s your hint. You’re not even in the ballpark. How do we get to know each other? Trivia questions? Or should we play ‘would you rather’?”

Her teasing tone got me to smile. “Questions should work. Favorite sex position, go.”

Her response was silence. I glanced over, catching the stunned expression on her face. I liked her off-balance and it only served her right, since she had been good at doing it to me.

“I’m sorry,” I said, “but I know you won’t answer any questions about your identity, so I chose to start there, with something fun.”

More silence. She wasn’t going to answer? I pressed too hard on the brake when the realization dawned on me.

“Don’t fucking tell me a beautiful girl like you is saving herself for marriage.” My stomach turned. Didn’t she realize how short life was? All the pleasure she could be missing out on?

“No, I’m not a virgin,” she said. “I appreciate the compliment, but the profanity, not so much.”

There was no helping the grin that tugged across my face. “Did I offend you, little girl, with my adult language?”

“Hardly.”

“Then, quit stalling and tell me your favorite position.”

“Wow, you’re ridiculous.”

I wanted to push her buttons. She’d seemed so confident in my office, and now she was slowly unraveling. “Let me guess,” I said. “Him on top.”

Her head turned away so she could stare out the passenger window. “Sure, yeah. You got me.”