“I’m not going to need a party dress am I?” She mock shuddered.
“You’re not really going to need any clothes at all.”
Well, she wasn’t going to argue with that.
It was still dark as they took a cab to a downtown heliport. Min glanced questioningly at him, but he just laughed and said nothing. The pilot said nothing either. She figured it was a conspiracy. But she didn’t mind. She wasn’t thinking beyond the moment anymore.
Snuggled against him, she looked out the window at the amazing view of dawn breaking over the city and then the coastline as the whirlybird flew high and fast.
Fifty minutes later they landed at East Hampton airport. Logan led her to a silver sedan parked in the nearby parking lot.
“I’ve never been here.” Min clicked her safety belt, her blood fizzing. “That coastline is spectacular.”
“You wait, it’s even more beautiful in summer. Less crowded this time of year.”
Wait? She wasn’t going to be here with him in summer.
He held the steering wheel with one hand, her hand with the other—so natural and easy.
Don’t read anything into it.
He was just incredibly tactile with none of the usual respect for personal space. He liked warmth. That was all. But she liked it too. Too much.
Twenty-five minutes later, he turned down a driveway. Min drew breath as the building came into view.
It was a holiday home. Not the minimalist design of his Manhattan apartment, nor the total over-the-top extravagance of the lodge at Summerhill. This one was a wooden beach house.
So damn dreamy she gasped. “You own this?”
“Investment property,” he said casually. “And I can stay here when I feel like it.”
“Which is often?” If it were hers, she’d be here all the time.
“Not as often as I should.” He grabbed their two carry-bags, slung his other arm along her shoulder and took her round the front of the house—the beach side and unlocked the door. “The pool’s heated and there’s a hot tub if you’d like to skinny dip.”
Yeah, she’d like, but it was Logan who loved the full body on slow burn temps. He’d clearly phoned ahead because someone had turned the aircon thermostat up. She chuckled as she slipped her jacket off and walked into the main living area.
Of all the amazing properties she’d seen, she loved this the best. The interior more than matched the picture postcard perfection of the outside, with it’s pretty wallpaper and wooden furniture and comfortable rugs and wall of books. And as for that view over the water? “It’s gorgeous.”
He dropped their bags. “So are you.” He walked towards her, purpose inherent in every step.
She smiled at him, caution tossed to the wind. What would another day matter?
“Something you need to know.” His voice lowered. “No one can hear us here. The houses either side aren’t occupied tonight. I checked before we got here. You can’t see them anyway. We’re alone.”
“Okay, no neighbors.” She placed her hand over her heart and sent him an overly wide-eyed look. “Should I be worried?”
He laughed. “No. But I know how hung up you are.”
“In what way?” she bridled.
“Here you can scream as loud as you like.” He placed his hands on her waist, holding her so she couldn’t step away. “There’s no need to be self-conscious. Not with me.”
“Is this about my sexual soundtrack? Really?” Oh no. She didn’t want this—to feel like she was going to have to perform for him. She’d thought it was all working well... that they were both satisfied.
“Yes, really. You want all of me? Well I want all of you too. Everything. Nothing held back.”
He meant physically, right? He was all about the release and the carnal satisfaction.
“You were listening to me on the plane, right?” she whispered. She didn’t want this. It would be like some kind of test. And she was going to fail.
“Stop panicking.” His hands tightened on her waist. “You don’t need to worry. Do you know what I’m going to do?”
She shook her head.
“I’m going to gag you.”
“W-w-what?”
He reached into his back pocket and a second later held up a... thing.
“What the hell is that?” She stared at it.
“It’s a ball gag.”
“A...” She drew breath, trying to calm her chaotic pulse. “I thought... we were a ‘no’ to sex toys.”
“The rules are lifted Min, we both won, remember? This isn’t a game anymore.”
Wasn’t it? “Yet you have a ball gag?”
“Got one of the guys to get it for me from the twenty-four hour sex shop. It’s my first time, but I think I can figure it out,” he winked.
“You’re not making me feel any better,” she said. “Why?”
“It’s soft, won’t hurt your mouth whereas rope or tape would—and I’m not hurting you. You can breathe, you can still make sounds. But I am going to gag you.” He ran his hand the length of her braid, and pulled the elastic from the end. “The point is, you won’t be able to speak even if you try. So you don’t have to try. And you don’t have to hold yourself back because even if you want to say something, I’ll not be able to understand you anyway.”
“How is that different to what my life is already like?” she asked wryly. “Sometimes I want to speak, and I still can’t.”
“The difference is you don’t even have to think about it anymore. The option’s been taken away from you. It’s just gone. Forget about it,” he said, like it was the easiest thing in the world. “You can just lose yourself. Lie back and let go.”
Heat poured through her. But she couldn’t quite accept this. “You’re kid—”
“No joke.” He reached and untwisted her braid slowly. “And, given the blush you’ve got going, I’m thinking you’re rapidly adjusting to the idea.”
Oh she was. She was excited and a little scared and a lot aroused. And her stupid heart was just bursting.
“I have never met anyone as naughty as you,” she whispered.
As totally outrageous and spontaneous and crazy. And fun. And weirdly thoughtful.
“You bring me here, where no one can hear. And now you’re going to gag me.”
“Well, you can still scream.” He smiled. “Shall we try it?”
She looked again at the ugly black ball and strap contraption
he’d put into her hand. “I’ll end up drooling. Can’t we use a cloth?”
“If you’d prefer, sure. I brought a couple of those too. We could always use a combination.”
She trembled.
“The thing is.” He pressed her close against him, soothing the shivers by rubbing her spine. “I want you no matter what, understand? No come-face you pull is going to be ugly to me. The redder your cheeks the better. The sweatier, wetter... I can’t get enough of you. I want to see you, want to hear you, in all ways, utterly intimate. No matter how broken up, I’ll still want you.”
She swallowed.
“Are you g-going to be gagged too?” Seemed only fair to her.
He shook his head, amusement sparking. “I want to use my mouth on you.”
She narrowed her eyes. Good point, she wouldn’t be able to kiss him.
“You still have your hands, your eyes,” he said softly. “And all of your skin.”
“So you’re not going to tie me up along with the gagging?” she whispered.
He leaned back and cocked his head to see her eyes. “Did you want me to?”
She wanted to be able to touch him and yet there was something about the absolute freedom in being unable to pull back.
“Why don’t we just see how we go,” he murmured huskily.
He tilted her chin and kissed her. More of those damn teasing, feathering kisses.
“You have such a beautiful mouth,” he muttered.
He did seem to have developed a fixation. “But you’ve never gagged another woman?” she asked.
“Don’t be nervous,” he whispered. “You know I won’t hurt you.”
Not physically. He understood too well what she liked, what she wanted and needed.
“But,” he stepped back. You do need some way to let me know if you want me to stop what I’m doing.” He studied her.
“How ‘bout I knee you in the b-b-balls?”
“That’s my girl.” He laughed, his hands suddenly stroking firmer. “That’d be perfect.”
He looked at her mouth a moment, then pressed close and French kissed the life out of her. His tongue circled gently, stroking the inside of her cheeks, her lips, the roof of her mouth. He held her still and sucked her lip, caressing. Making love to her mouth.