Three Hard Lessons (Blindfold Club 2)

Dominic smirked. “I’m aware.” He shifted his weight so he was close, his body leaning into mine and his voice dropping low. “Every part of me is aware.” I tried not to shiver from that delicious voice.

Like the lobby, his corporate apartment was elegant and generic, but western style. No sliding paper doors or tan mat floors. It was small by Chicago standards, probably even New York standards. When we stepped over the threshold, Dominic’s shoes came off in Japanese tradition. I followed suit.

To the left was a tiny kitchen space, not much more than a sink and the stove top, separated by a foot of counter. Cabinets overhead and below, a pantry, and a small refrigerator beside that. The square, black dining table divided the kitchen from the living area, also known as the couch. This room was smaller than Evie’s old apartment, but more effective at maximizing space.

“The master room’s to the right,” he said, sorting through the mail and dropping it on the table. “The guest room’s there.” He gestured to the doorway beside the fridge. “You want something to drink?”

“Sure.”

It was abruptly awkward for me as he pulled two clear, odd-shaped bottles from the fridge. I was at his place, completely dependent on him. At his mercy. Oh god, I hadn’t thought this through.

“What happens tomorrow?” I asked while he opened the bottles and something rattled.

“What do you mean?” He extended it to me and I took it. Soda of some sort, but there was a weird clear orb in the neck of the bottle.

“You have to work, right?” I took of a sip of the drink, but the ball floated in the neck and clogged it so I only got half a sip. Lemon-lime, and not too bad.

“I do. There are lots of different tours you can go on. I’ve got some brochures left over from when my parents were here.”

I tried again to take a sip, but the stupid thing rolled right back into the neck. “This drink is defective.”

“You don’t like the marble soda?” There was a gleam in his eyes. Arrogance. Hot, but annoying.

No dice on my third attempt. “I can’t get it to work.”

“That must be frustrating for you.”

The air grew thick between us in an instant. His lesson had begun. There was a thunk as he set his bottle down on the table and stalked toward me. My pulse jumped. I sure as shit wasn’t tired now. A wicked expression twisted on his face. Lust. He pulled the bottle from my hand. Another thump of glass on wood as it was set down.

“I just realized I didn’t give you a proper tour.”

His arms banded around my waist and squeezed, lifting me up until my feet no longer were on the floor. He was carrying me to his bedroom, and I figured I’d make it easier on him. That way we could get there faster. My legs wrapped around his hips.

He took a hand off me to quickly flip the switch on the wall when we were through the door, and I got a brief look at the room before I sailed down onto my back on the bed. Purples and golds, with boring artwork on the walls. He lived here, but it seemed like he’d made no effort to make it his home. The room barely fit the bed, which was thankfully a queen-sized one. I was going to fuck him all over this apartment, but I was happy to start here.

He stood at the edge of the bed and peeled off my socks while I rose up on my elbows and yanked the scarf over my head. It made no sound when I flung it away. His fingers slipped under the hem of my lightweight sweater and forced it upward. It was cast off. It was a mad dash to get naked after that. Or so I thought. I jerked at the back of his shirt and pulled it over his head as his hands fumbled at the button of my jeans.

We were both down to our underwear when I began to scoot back up on the bed to put my head on a pillow.

“Wrong,” he said. His hands grabbed fistfuls of the comforter I was lying on and dragged it toward him, carrying me along with it. His hands closed on my knees and slid upward. Over my thighs, over the baby blue lace band covering my hips, and up. The coarse skin of his palms brushed over my ribs and his hands splayed as he continued. Thumbs trailed over my bra-clad breasts, to my shoulders, and slowed at my neck.

They reached their final destination at my jaw. His fingers skimmed over my cheekbones in a soft caress. He leaned over me, lowering to deliver that mesmerizing kiss. I tipped my head into it, my eyes falling shut as the warmth of his skin closed in.

My eyes fluttered open.

He’d stopped, just a breath away. I lifted my head to meet him—

Nope. Those hands cupping my face had a purpose, and it was to prevent me from doing that. He’d locked my head in place, teasing the kiss I originally claimed I didn’t want, and he already knew I was desperate for.

I shifted. I struggled against his hold, but he was prepared. When I decided to employ distraction, he was ready for that, too. The moment my hand touched his thick cock through his boxers, he stepped back from the bed.

“Give me your hands,” he demanded. There was something yellow in his. My scarf. Oh, he was feeling comfortable with me now. Here in his bed where he was going to own my ass for the next two weeks.

“If I don’t?” My voice was filled with excitement and sex.

“Your lesson will last longer.”

I pretended to be reluctant about surrendering my control, but surely he could tell this was a lie. He took the scarf, which was nothing more than a giant loop of fabric, and knotted it, cinching my wrists together.