Blue Blooded (17 page)

She chuckled, the meaning behind the name of the hotel, Paradise Lost, and the club, Paradise Found, suddenly dawning on her. One would acquire paradise only within the club and its bedrooms.

Indecision warred within her as she debated whether to shower or take a bath. A Jacuzzi would soothe her muscles and relax her, but she was dying to try the shower. She opened the door and turned the knob, cranking it to the hotter side. Water sprayed from five different spots, three from the ceiling and two from the sides, seemingly coming from out of the mirrors. Bizarrely, there were several suction cups with large metal rings resembling bracelets on them stuck to the mirrors too.

She undressed, ready to burn those filthy clothes. By the time she'd thrown them in the trash, the room had filled with steam. She stepped into the shower, groaning when hot water rained down on her. This was so much better than last night's excuse of a shower.

Finding shampoo, she flicked open the spout and poured some into her waiting hand. She sighed at the soothing scent of lavender permeating throughout the shower.

After she massaged the shampoo into her hair, she closed her eyes and braced her hands on the wall in front of her as she tilted her head back under one of the showerheads and soapy water cascaded down her.

She felt a slight chill as the door to the shower opened and then the heat of Logan standing behind her. The warm breath on her neck made her nipples tighten and her abdomen quiver.

“Didn't want to miss out on the chance to see you all slippery with soap like I did last night. I hope you don't mind,” he said huskily.

Did she? He'd already seen her naked and gotten up close and personal with her pussy, but taking a shower with him seemed more intimate, hinting at a relationship between the two of them. “Shower's big enough for the both of us.”

His hand skated down the length of her spine and cupped her bottom. “Shower's big enough for both of us and two more.” He nipped her ear. “Yeah, you thought I didn't notice how excited you got when I told you about how much I enjoyed sharing a woman with my friends? Your pulse was hammering at the side of your neck like a frightened little bird. But the only thing you were frightened of was how I'd react if I knew how much you wanted it.”

She opened her eyes. “You told Sawyer you wouldn't share me.”

“I wouldn't. Not with him. Sawyer's needs are too dark for you. And frankly, I wasn't sure if sharing would be something you'd be into.”

Her breathing hitched. “Will it hurt to have two cocks inside at the same time?”

“Not if I start preparing you for it,” he said roughly, his voice sounding as if his throat had been rubbed with sandpaper. “Turn to face me.”

Biting her lip, she spun around and, dizzy from arousal, rested her hands on his chest for support. Rivulets of water ran down between his flat brown nipples, enticing her to lick. But before she could follow through, he moved, pulling two of the suction cups off the mirror and positioning them lower. Confused by his actions, she was speechless when he grabbed one of her hands and slipped it into the ring hanging from the suction cup then tightened the ring, securing her to it. He repeated the process with her other hand, so both arms were raised slightly above her head and she was facing the mirror.

Now the suction cups made sense.

Shower bondage.

He seized a small tube beside the shampoo on the shelf and kneeled behind her, one of his hands sliding around her to the front where he quickly pulled back the hood of her clitoris to expose the bundle of nerves. Using tiny circular motions, he rubbed it while repeatedly sinking his teeth into the flesh of her ass.

Sparks of heat lit up her pussy and had her squirming in place.

Staring at herself in the mirror, she watched as a woman she barely recognized moaned and begged for more. Beads of water streamed down her pink flushed cheeks, and her eyes were glazed over as if she was drugged.

He shifted his hand, plunging his fingers into her pussy as his thumb strummed her clit. “You want to know what it's like to have more than one cock pumping away inside of you? Well, I'm about to give you an exclusive sneak peek to get you ready for it. See, right now, I've got two of my fingers in you. Your pussy's clamping down on them, sucking them in, with no resistance. But as you learned on the plane, my cock's a lot wider than two fingers, so I'm gonna have to add one more.” There was a pinch of pain as his third finger joined the others, stretching her walls, but the pleasurable waves of heat rolling through her quickly numbed the sting. “Now pretend that's my cock inside you right now, fucking you. Owning you. Feels good, doesn't it?”

“Yes,” she managed to croak out. “It feels better than good.”

“Ever have anyone play with your ass?” he asked darkly.

“No.” A couple of guys had asked, claiming they could make her come that way, but she'd never trusted anyone to make it pleasurable for her. Until Logan. She had no doubts that he'd not only make it pleasurable, he'd set her on fire from the inside.

The fingers of his other hand skimmed over her crack. “If you want to stop, use your safe word. Tell me what it is.”

“Family,” she said breathlessly.

She looked down at him and saw him squirt gel from the tube he'd grabbed earlier onto the pads of two of his fingers.

“Lube. One of the most important ingredients for successful anal sex.” He pressed a cold fingertip between the cheeks of her butt. “Sawyer probably stocks it by the truckload in this place.”

The tip pushed into her, the pinching feeling foreign to her, but not overtly painful. He swirled it inside her, before slowly moving it back and forth in tandem with the ones in her pussy.

She concentrated on breathing and relaxing her muscles to allow him farther inside. He must have sensed it because not a moment later, he pushed his finger all the way into her. She emitted a tiny squeak at the weird sensation of having something in her backside. But when he dragged it almost all the way out and then plunged it back inside again, her forehead thunked against the mirror and the word
more
fell from her lips.

“You are so fucking sexy,” Logan said, inserting a second digit in her ass.

The addition had her going on her toes. She was so full of him, she couldn't think of anything but how incredible it felt to be stretched and filled to capacity.

He wasn't especially gentle as he fucked her pussy and her ass with his fingers and stroked his thumb over her clit. And she didn't want him to be. He was taking her. Owning her body with every part of himself. Proving he was in control, and there was nothing short of saying her safe word that would stop him from his domination over her.

Her lips were sealed other than to cry out his name over and over.

Her muscles tightened, her legs shaking like a newborn baby foal's, and liquid heat bubbled in her core. Everything inside her tensed. Her breathing stalled in her chest. Her eyes squeezed shut. And then the heat boiled over, waves of contractions clamping down on Logan's fingers of both hands.

Slowly, Logan withdrew his fingers. He pressed tiny kisses up her spine until he stood once more and washed his hands. He removed her wrists from the cuffs and kissed the inside of each of her wrists before lightly massaging both of them and her shoulders.

He turned her around and kissed her softly on the lips.

Her gaze fell to his erect cock. With a grin, she wrapped her hand around it, reveling in Logan's groan.

“You don't have to—”

“Shh. I know. I want to,” she whispered, looking up at him.

His eyes were closed and his face pinched in concentration. “Won't take long.”

One hand worked his cock, twisting and rubbing as she found all the spots that made him moan, while the other massaged his balls.

It took only two minutes before his cock pulsed and twitched. He threw his head back, the cords of his neck straining. “Rachel.”

Streams of come spilled over her hand. She marveled at the sexual abandonment on Logan's face as his body shook from climax. He was so dominant. So powerful. But for a few precious moments, he'd trusted her enough to transfer his power over to her. She'd held it in her hands.

His eyes opened and he smiled.

And that was it.

She was a goner.

Forget falling.

She'd fallen.

Head over heels, face-first, no hands fallen in love with the man. He understood her like no one else. When she was in his arms, the rest of the world fell away and her mind quieted. She loved his intellect and his bravery, but it was the way he made her feel as if she was the most important person in the world to him that had stolen her heart.

She returned his smile.

They had a couple more days together, and she'd enjoy every moment of them to the fullest. And when it inevitably ended and he shattered her heart into a million of pieces, she'd move to New York and start a new life for herself there.

Where once again, she'd be all alone.

T
HE
S
ENATOR BOARDED
the private plane and, with a curt nod, greeted the flight attendant before taking his usual seat by the window. Within a minute of his arrival, he had a scotch on the rocks in his hand and three different newspapers on the table in front of him. His back throbbed mercilessly from his lover's latest beating, but when he read the headline of the
New York Times
, an icy pain sliced his chest.

His men had failed again.

How many times had his father told him a man was only as good as those who served under him? It had been beaten into him, both figuratively and literally, since he was a boy. That's why he'd done his research before choosing two of the FBI's best and most easily corruptible agents. Even with his money and power, it wasn't fucking easy to access the type of records he needed to make his choice. It took years to quietly research the best matches for the job at hand.

Seymour Fink had been classified as a genius in second grade when state tests showed he could both read and do math on a tenth-grade level. Amazing in itself but even more amazing by the fact that he came from the poorest section of Philadelphia and was being raised by his heroin-addicted single mother. Unfortunately, his mother's neglect resulted in poor hygiene and malnutrition, a sad combination for a painfully thin child that resulted in numerous broken bones and missing teeth after daily beatings by school bullies. By the time the state finally took the child out of the home, he'd broken nearly every bone in his body.

Eventually, he was adopted by a wealthy couple who saw the potential in him, and from that point on he was given every opportunity. He'd graduated from Harvard at twenty in chemical engineering and from Cambridge at twenty-four with a dual degree in public health and chemistry. His knowledge of biological agents led him to help the government write policies on how to protect our country from bioterrorism. His adopted parents had encouraged him to become a college professor or a politician, but instead he'd applied to the FBI. By all intents and purposes, there was nothing on the surface to suggest he would betray his country.

But everyone had a weakness to exploit, and Fink's was his birth mother. For years, he siphoned off money from his adoptive parents to fund his mother's drug habit—even going as far as supplying it to her. What drove a man so brilliant to act so foolishly? He didn't only endanger his career and his freedom, but the relationship with those who had loved and supported him throughout the years. And all the while, he'd been stealing from them. A man like that would do anything to protect his birth mother. If he went to jail, who would care for her? No one. She would die.

It was that easy. A threat here and there. A promise that should anything happen to Fink, he would ensure his mother received enough money to support her addiction. And the genius belonged to him.

On the other hand, Evans's file was an enigma to him. A challenge. The man was a brute, an ex-football player and an ex-cop with a degree in criminal justice. He was above average in intelligence and had grown up in the suburbs, supposedly loved by all those around him. By all accounts, his background was perfect.
Everything
about the man seemed perfect on paper. Which was why he knew the man harbored secrets. After following him for two nights, he discovered his predilection for roughing up hookers during sex. Armed with the information, he'd gone to blackmail him only to discover the man didn't need to be blackmailed. He'd voluntarily signed up for the job.

What they were doing was for the good of this country. Would people die? As in any war, it was certainly possible. But his plan would strengthen this country against the potential of terrorist attacks that could wipe out Western civilization as they knew it. Instead of thousands of dying, hundreds of thousands would die. His pleas had fallen on deaf ears for decades, and now, with the country in financial and international turmoil, it was time to correct its mistakes.

The fact that he'd become even wealthier than his parents was a bonus.

In just a few months, he'd never have to bow down to his family's whims again. He'd prove that he was a real man who would no longer be manipulated by them in their plays for power and wealth. It was his turn to shine while they and his brother could retreat into the darkness where they'd stuck him all these years.

It would be his turn to run for president, and there wasn't a single candidate who would be able to defeat him.

Only a few of his most trusted allies knew of his plan. Everything would be as perfect as Evans's employment file if they could just eliminate that lawyer and reporter. They were like those no-see-ums, insignificant and annoying, but they'd already proved smarter than he'd given them credit for.

Evidence had been planted to ensure no one would look any further than the two of them for Rinaldi's murder. His first choice was for the two of them to be put down before they could talk to anyone. But if that wasn't possible, he would also have a plan in place in case they were arrested.

The flight attendant appeared before him, her shirt now unbuttoned to expose the swells of her generous tits. “The captain would like to inform you we'll be taking off now, and that he anticipates a smooth flight to Las Vegas, sir.”

Watching her take her seat, he took a sip of his scotch and considered his options. Logan Bradford and Rachel Dawson could hide for now, but when the moment was right, they'd play right into his hands.

First stop—Las Vegas.

Next stop—the White House.