He took a breath like he was debating it, so I grabbed the bottle from him and poured it myself. The deep brown eyes studied me as I struggled to get the last one down without gagging.
I felt like I had to explain. “I don’t like to fail either.”
Hands were on my hips, drawing me close against his chest. “You can’t fail at this, Evie. If it doesn’t work out, it doesn’t work out. That’s all it would be.”
His head bent so his lips could brush mine, and ignited the desire inside me like lighting a matchstick. I filled his mouth with my tongue, desperate to get started. But he could sense my anticipation, so of course he wanted to draw it out.
“Go into the bedroom.” His command was on a hushed breath, but authoritative all the same. “Take off everything except for those shoes and wait for me on the bed.” He feathered a kiss into the side of my neck. “Wait for me on your hands and knees.”
His embrace was gone in an instant and I almost fell over.
He left me standing there with my mouth hanging open, so he could clean up the glasses and put his “supplies” away.
“Go, Evie,” he said, firm.
chapter
SIXTEEN
My heart raced as my shoes clip-clopped their way into the bedroom. As I stared at the bed, nervous waves traveled through me. I could do this. The tequila would help me through. I pulled both shirts over my head at the same time and cast them on the chair in the corner, the one I had hoped to interrogate him from a week ago. My clothes came off quickly; shedding them was easier than my trepidation. I slipped the shoes back on once my jeans were removed.
I walked across the bed on my hands and knees, unsure of what to do now. He hadn’t given me any directions other than to wait. I positioned myself so when he came in, he’d see my round cheeks waiting for him, and so I could look out the window. The rose-colored light bounced off the nearby, shorter buildings, reflecting the sunset on the water of Lake Michigan.
I waited.
And waited.
There was no sound from the other room, forcing me to think about what was going to happen when he finally came in. Would we go straight to it or would we mess around first? He’d said he had more supplies in here, but the tops of his dresser and nightstand were bare.
As I waited, I got tipsy off of the tequila and the situation. Totally naked, well, other than the shoes, waiting for him like a servant. It made me insane and needy and so fucking turned on.
“Logan,” I said, loudly. “Are we going to do this or what?”
Bare feet. I’d forgotten that without shoes on, he could move around without making much noise. He set his palms on my hips and drew me backward. Backward onto his face.
“Oh, shit,” I mumbled. His tongue licked me, circling where I was swollen and aching for him.
“Your pussy tastes even better than it looks.” His intimate kiss was invasive and mind-numbing. More. I wanted more. The tequila was kicking in now, and I rocked my hips against his face, positioning myself exactly how I wanted it.
“Do you want to see the other supplies I bought today?” As soon as the words were out of his mouth it returned to me, fucking me.
“Not if you have to stop doing what you’re doing,” I moaned.
There was a chuckle, the same half-laugh I’d heard when I called him sir at the club. A drawer squeaked open and he rummaged around, but his mouth stayed on me, thank god. I was getting close to my first of what I hoped would be several orgasms tonight when he started tossing items down on the bed beside me.
A bottle of lube. Batteries. A simple white vibrator still in its plastic package.
Leather handcuffs.
“We don’t have to use all or any of it, if you don’t want to.”
My brain was foggy with lust. All I could focus on was the tongue la
shing at me, the mouth sucking at the knot between my legs. His hot mouth made its journey to the back, and I exhaled loudly.
“Do you own a vibrator?” The tongue slipped down, plunging into my entrance.
“I haven’t had a boyfriend in two years,” I said, “and I live alone. I could have just brought mine.”