Three Simple Rules (Blindfold Club 1)

“I’d tell her that you broke up with me, and I was going to be too depressed to chat with any of the available women she wanted to unleash on me.”

Okay, one major chunk of information sorted through, now on to the other one. “How did you know I was at the club?”

“Pass.”

“I’m sorry, pass?”

“We’ll come back around to it in a minute.” When I opened my mouth to protest, he added, “I’m not violating the rule. It says I have to answer it and answer it truthfully. It doesn’t say when I have to do it.”

I don’t know which I was more irritated about — the fact he hadn’t answered, or that I hadn’t known I could do that when his rules applied to me.

“Where did you get the money?”

“My 401K.”

My eyes fell on the envelope sitting on the desk. Oh, god. I didn’t pay much attention to investing, but my uncle was an accountant and had helped set up my account. The one thing he’d stressed was to not touch my 401K under any circumstances, because the penalties were steep. I’d only been working at the agency for two years, so what I’d accrued would have been wiped out if I’d tried.

So what this meant was Logan hadn’t really paid twelve grand of his money for me. He’d paid even more.

“Why would you do that?”

He looked guilty. “Part of me felt responsible. I’d come to trust your work, so I had barely glanced at the proof you’d sent me.” His eyes changed and turned warm and seductive. “A much larger part of me did it because I wanted to.”

“Why?” I think I blushed.

“Because I thought you’d be amazing.”

I don’t know why I was nervous when he was the one being interrogated. “So, was I?”

“Didn’t I make it clear that you were?”

My breath was gone for a half-second and then returned with the realization. “Wait, was that a question?” That meant he was supposed to have consequences, but my brain failed me. I couldn’t come up with any kind of playfully torturous thing to do to him that wouldn’t be torturous for me as well. “Answer my question. How did you know about the club?”

He looked a little disappointed that was all I’d come up with.

“Come here, and I’ll show you.”

I sighed and got out of the chair, taking three steps to get behind his desk when he stood abruptly and pulled me against him. “What are you—”

He silenced me with one of his mind-numbing kisses. It wasn’t a delicate, soft kiss. It was an aggressive, controlling, devouring one. He’d slipped a hand behind my neck and the other was tight on my ass, pressing me against him. I struggled to stay above it, but I was drowning in him. Desire flashed white-hot through my body, straight to the center of my legs.

“You’re not showing me anything I don’t already know,” I murmured between kisses, going back for more. The hand on my ass traveled to the front, dragging slowly up in the valley between my thighs.

The button to my pants was undone in a heartbeat, and he broke the kiss, turning me in his arms so I faced the computer.

“I need you to send an email,” he said. His breathing was steady and controlled, but I was already hopelessly out of breath. He sat in his chair, making sure I understood he wanted me to stand, and he opened a new email compose window. I’d have to lean over him to do it while standing.

“Who is the email going to?” I asked, not moving.

“Evelyn Russell.”

“You want me to send an email to myself?”

“Yes.” His eyes were smug.

I gave him an exasperated look and bent at the waist, putting my hands on his keyboard. I typed in E and V and let AutoFill do the rest.

“What’s the subject?” I asked.