Three Little Mistakes (Blindfold Club 3)

Her hand came up quickly, darting to her mouth, but not fast enough. I’d seen the moisture there. She sank them in her mouth, closed her lips around the first knuckles, and drew them out slowly. Like her meal had been so good, she wanted to lick every last trace from her hand.

“Have you tasted yourself before?”

She flushed, broke the gaze, and looked guilty. “Yes.”

“Look at me.” The edge in my voice was dark, and it came out just louder than I wanted it to. If we’d been alone, I would have delivered a physical, negative reinforcement, but I couldn’t do anything from across the table. “Yes, Sir, my filthy girl.”

Her gaze snapped back to me. “Yes, Sir.”

“Are you ashamed? You shouldn’t be. That’s hot, Noemi. So, fucking, hot.”

We had to get out of this restaurant, but closing us in together in my Porsche was a bad idea. How the fuck was I going to drive her home while keeping my hands off of her? Without running my stupid mouth?

She argued to pay her half of the bill, but I shook my head. “Not a chance.” As I tossed down my credit card, I realized grimly it didn’t matter in the end. Rosso was footing the bill one way or the other, as most of my money came from him.

The wind chill was dangerously cold, and we waited inside the atrium for the valet to pull the Porsche up. She slipped an arm behind my back and lifted up on her toes so her mouth was beside my ear.

“Thank you for dinner, Sir.”

Something inside me snapped, but I should have been prepared. I was aware I had no control around her. One more time. I’d already fucked her, the damage was done. I turned my mouth into hers and felt her body melt beneath me. Every layer of her kiss rationalized the concept more. Persuaded and seduced.

What difference would one more time make?

chapter

ELEVEN

NOEMI

Last night the thought of Joseph possessing me had sent me over the edge, and tonight he’d asked for exactly that. Making that choice hadn’t been difficult in the slightest, but as I stood in his luxurious living room, I started to have doubts.

Throwing yourself headfirst into an unusual sexual arrangement with a virtual stranger had side effects, the biggest being that he still felt like a stranger. Yet, I wanted to trust him. He’d never done anything to make me feel threatened or unsafe. Joseph often had demanding eyes, but he also had soft, warm ones, too. He was straightforward, but didn’t treat me like I was inferior just because I was inexperienced. I somehow felt equal with him.

His living room was that of a man, not a college-aged boy, which is what I was used to. A black leather sectional sat beneath an oversized black and white print. The room was open to the kitchen, which had a butcher block island. Everything was tasteful and exacting. Every space was distinctly masculine. From what I knew so far, this place was one hundred percent Joseph.

“Do you want some more wine?” he asked, helping me out of my coat and hanging it in the front closet.

“Sure.”

He shrugged out of his own coat, and my gaze lingered over his black V-neck sweater and charcoal gray dress pants. “Red or white?”

“White would be great.”

I continued to scan the room, searching for clues to the enigmatic man who was now my Sir. God, it still sounded so foreign. He strolled to the side-by-side fridge and pulled out a bottle, checking the label.

I was vaguely aware that he was opening the wine with one of those electric cork removers, but my focus went to the hallway, where a picture hung. I stepped out of my heels and padded silently across the hardwood toward it.

“That’s me and my brother Conner,” he said, passing me a glass of chilled wine. “Our parents took us whitewater rafting in North Carolina one summer.”

Joseph looked to be about fourteen or fifteen. He sat at the front of a large inflatable raft, a white helmet on his head, an orange vest buckled on, and a paddle in one hand. Beside him, his big brother was a few years older, and he had a hand on Joseph’s shoulder. Easy, excited smiles were captured on their faces.

“You look like a stick!” I said, grinning.

Joseph didn’t seem to think it was all that cute. “Yeah, I was always a skinny kid. You want the tour?”

“Sure.” I turned back to face the room and took my first sip from my glass.

“Is the wine sweet enough? I know how you college girls like your sugary wine-coolers,” he teased.