One More Rule: The Blindfold Club Novella (2 page)

My other hand trailed down between my legs where I was needy and unsatisfied. And no sooner had I started playing with myself than he leaned over me, seized my wrist, and pushed it away.

“No, no, no,” he teased. “We don’t want you getting too loud.”

I wanted to remind him that he had my mouth occupied, but he dropped my hand at my breast, squeezing down on it.

“You can play with these,” Dominic said, dragging our hands over my tits. “But this,” his fingers glided down through my wet pussy and slapped my sensitive flesh, “this is fucking
mine
.”

His other hand was a fist, and he set it beside my hip, so he had leverage as he leaned over and sawed his cock in my greedy mouth, slow enough to not gag me. When I tightened my grip, he groaned in approval, and the fingers on my clit rubbed faster. I bucked under his skilled touch.

Compatible wasn’t a strong enough word for us. It wasn’t like every time we had sex it was the most amazing rapture ever. But we always clicked. Always worked together. Even our mediocre sex was fun and enjoyable. I hoped I’d never take a minute of him for granted.

A rough finger shoved inside me, and I moaned while he was lodged in my throat. “Mmm . . .”

“
Fuck
.” It came out strained. The vibration of my moan must have felt pretty damn good, judging by his reaction. The heel of his palm pressed against my clit while the finger fucked me in time with his hips. Pleasure built at the base of my spine, teasing the orgasm again.

I pumped my fist on him. Used suction. Spun the edge of my tongue on the head of his dick. Everything in my arsenal to bring him to the brink, as he was about to tip me over into ecstasy.

“Shit. Oh, fuck, yes,” Dominic said between deep breaths. “Take it.”

It was the last push I needed to release, and I exploded. My cries were muffled by his enormous, throbbing cock, and as I came, my legs trembling, it was the wordless permission he needed.

Breath left him in a loud burst, and his movements became jerky and erratic, followed by a long noise of satisfaction, which rumbled up from deep in his chest. He came in spurts, wave after wave, filling my mouth, and when he ceased, I swallowed. It drew another low moan from him.

“Payton,” he whispered, his knuckles brushing over my cheekbone. He stepped back and helped me sit up. In a heartbeat, he was seated beside me on the bed, his arms trapping me. I tilted my head so he could trace kisses along my neck, my eyes falling shut and my fingertips gritting over his unshaven face.

His kisses slowed, and reality returned, one layer after another. I blinked sluggishly. We collapsed on the bed and Dominic tugged the sheet up over our sweat-dampened bodies.

A chuckle rang out when I curled up beside him, needing the contact against his warm body. I sighed dramatically, but since he couldn’t see my face, I grinned. We’d pushed each other into new territory. Talking. Sleeping in the same bed. Love.

Soon, marriage.

“Hey.” I rolled over onto my other hip, turning to face him. “Let’s get married.”

His eyes were already closed, one hand tucked under his pillow. “Thought we already agreed on that.”

“No,” I said. “Let’s get married while we’re home. Tomorrow.”

chapter

TWO

Dominic’s eyes flew open and a scowl darkened his face. “What?”

As the idea began to take shape, I grew more excited. “We’ve been living together for a year. The paperwork with our work visas is a pain in the ass. We could go to the courthouse and do one of those quickie Justice of the Peace things.”

His face was stoic, but the muscles beneath his jaw tensed, as if clenching his teeth. He wasn’t a fan of this idea?

“Have you ever been to any of the Cook County courthouses?” He asked it in a lazy voice, but there was tension beneath. “Because if you had, I don’t think you’d be chomping at the bit to go back.”

“Okay, the courthouse isn’t great, but it’s not
that
bad. Think about it—”

His expression turned serious. “I already have.”

I hesitated as the words sank in. He’d considered getting married while we were home, but decided against it. “And . . .?”

“This is Evie and Logan’s wedding, not ours.”

“Seriously? We don’t even have to tell anyone. Just you and me.” My fingers brushed over his jaw, cupping his face. “I’m tired of waiting, and I don’t need the big party or the dress. I want to be your wife.”

He blinked slowly, and I saw the thought run through his gorgeous eyes. He wanted this too, and badly, but he shook his head. “I really fucking want that, but there are a bunch of reasons why we should wait.”

“Yeah?” I deflated somewhat. “Convince me this isn’t the best idea ever.”

“Our families won’t like it.”

I raised an eyebrow. Of course it mattered what Dominic’s family thought, because they were warm and fuzzy, and the way a family was supposed to be. Besides his sweet parents, I was getting two hilarious sisters-in-law in the deal. I was less interested in what my family had to say about any decision I made in my life.

“I know your family might not like it,” I said, “but they’ll get over it. I have zero fucks to give about my family.”

They’d met Dominic only once, via Skype, in a super awkward ten-minute conversation. That was all the time my selfish parents could spare for the man who wanted to marry their only daughter. Dominic and I had booked our plane tickets months ago for Evie’s wedding, in the same fucking city where my parents lived, and still, plans to meet face-to-face were up in the air. I’d sort of stopped trying to make it happen, and I’d bet on my life that we’d fly back to Tokyo without seeing them.
“Sorry, Payton, I wish we could, but it’s been such a hectic week,”
I could already hear my mother saying.

“Next,” I demanded.

“Your parents said they’d pay for the wedding.”

I practically snorted. “See, we’d be saving them money.”

He ran a hand over my hip, then fingertips traced in the hollow of my back. “You could invite everyone from the club.” The way he delivered the statement was odd. There was some sort of meaning I wasn’t picking up on, and his expression turned devious. “I thought you’d love that, your ultra conservative parents footing the bill for dinner and an open bar for a bunch of high-class escorts.”

“Oh my God.” I couldn’t stop the grin. “You’re right, I do love that. Fuck, I’m such a bitch.” And I wasn’t even sorry about it.

“Don’t get me wrong, devil woman.” The fingertips skimmed up over my shoulder blades, all the way until he tucked a lock of hair behind my ear and cupped my face. “You know I want to give you whatever you want, and I’m so fucking glad that happens to include my last name. But I think
I
want the party, and the dress, and all that shit. I want everyone there to celebrate with us, and see how incredibly lucky I am.”

I felt warm and giddy inside, but I couldn’t let on how much his words affected me. Whenever things grew serious, my immediate response was sarcasm to cover my vulnerability. So I faked disdain. “You’re
such
a romantic.”

“And maybe I just want a wedding so afterward I can tear the dress off of my wife on our wedding night and fuck her like the dirty girl she is.”

I closed the space between us, kissing him sweetly. “Shit, Dominic, you should have led with that. If that’s what you want, that’s what I want, too.”

The alarm on Dominic’s phone began chiming at seven, and we stumbled to the shower together, bleary-eyed. Even though it was nine in the morning tomorrow in Japan, the three-hour nap hadn’t done much to recharge.

“I saw a Walgreens a block away,” Dominic said as he scrubbed shampoo into his hair. “We can grab some Red Bull and slam it in the cab on our way to the restaurant.”

“Can I mainline it?”

We hurried to get dressed. Dominic pulled on a French blue button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled back and black pants. The shirt matched the color of his eyes and showed off the watch I’d bought him.

I tugged the hem down of my seafoam green dress and slipped my feet into a sexy pair of nude heels. Then I donned my chandelier earrings and tousled my hair once more. “You ready?”

“I’m waiting for you to ask me something.”

What . . . ?
Oh
. I loved this game. How the fuck had I forgotten? I strolled over to him, hooking my fingers through his belt loops and pulling his lower body tight against mine. “Do I have your permission to wear panties tonight . . . Sir?”

His expression was victory mixed with desire. “I’ll allow it for now.” His kiss was hungry and over too soon. “You look beautiful tonight,” he whispered.

His compliment threw me off balance, but in a great way. I struggled to recover and cracked the joke, “I always look beautiful.”

“That’s what I love most about you.”

“How humble I am?”

It came out serious. “No, that you look almost as good as I do. Your personality’s not important.”

I flicked him on his hip, hitting his tattoo that matched mine.

We did exactly as Dominic had suggested and drank Red Bull on our way to the Italian restaurant, which was packed with people. I clung to his thick arm as we wove through the crowd and headed up the stairs to where Logan had texted us the table was located.

Evie looked flat out gorgeous. A pre-wedding glow, perhaps. Her excitement at marrying Logan was like a filter, making everything seem brighter and better. Would I be like this the final days before marrying Dominic? I already felt that way.

I hugged her fiercely. “Fuck, I missed you.”

She smiled as she pulled back. “Right back at you.”

We turned to watch our fiancés shake hands, which seemed too formal, but I had the feeling Logan wasn’t the hugging type. Which was exactly why I stepped up and wrapped my arms around him. He went rigid in my embrace and his gaze shifted to Dominic, worried. It made me choke back a laugh. Yeah, I’d had sex with Logan, but I knew Dominic was comfortable with this. I’d made it crystal clear to my future husband that he was all I ever wanted. And it was so much fun to see typically composed Logan uncomfortable.

I squeezed a hand on Logan’s shoulder. “You remember what I said?”

“That if I’m late to the wedding, you’ll rip off my dick and shove it up my ass?” Logan’s intense eyes blinked, unfazed. “No, I’d forgotten. Please tell me again.”

“If anyone’s going to be late,” Evie said, “I think we know who that’ll be.” She gestured to herself.

Logan gave me a serious look. “I’m counting on you to get her there on time. She has this way of making you think she’s on schedule, and then drops the bomb ten minutes before departure that she wants to take a quick shower.”

Evie snorted. “One time, Logan. And why, exactly, did I need the shower?”

Logan’s gaze drifted up to the left as he recalled the memory, and a half-smile bowed on his lips. He tugged her close to him and whispered something. It was hard to hear in the noisy restaurant, but sounded like, “Because you were dirty.”

We sat, ordered drinks, and chitchatted about random things. Our flight, their jobs, the wedding. Dominic’s arm rested comfortably on the back of my chair, his thumb brushing patterns on my shoulder.

Evie wore a sleeveless black dress that draped in the front and hung low to give a peek at her cleavage. She was a beautiful woman, and although Logan was attractive, he was lucky to have her. Evie fucking rocked. When I’d quit my job at Rosso Media Group and began working at the club, she hadn’t judged me. Nor did she abandoned me, or try to talk me out of it as some of my other friends had. Evie
got
me.

And that was probably what I liked most about Logan. He treated her as if she were everything, even with the way he looked at her. She was the center of his goddamn universe. My final night as a working girl at the club, I’d been on the table wishing I could find a connection to someone just a fraction as strong as what they had.

In walked Dominic, and boom. Done.

The conversation floated from topic to topic easily, like no time had passed with us being apart. There was a pang in my stomach. I already knew I’d spend my first week back in Tokyo being fucking homesick.
Just three more months.