Three Simple Rules (Blindfold Club 1)

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.