Ulterior Designs (House of Evans Book 1) (12 page)

"Y
ou're so damned sexy."

Logan's statement and hot breath on Chloe's ear halted all of her previous thoughts. With the pencil still in her hand, it hovered over the image of the chandelier she was designing.

"Seriously, fucking gorgeous, Chloe—that's what you are. Do you know just how beautiful you are?" His words crept over her skin and made her breath hitch. "How talented you are?"

Unable to figure out why he was telling her all of this, she turned her head to look at him, but his expression offered her nothing. She could only guess that he thought giving her compliments would make her more compliant. If that was the case, he couldn’t be more wrong. She didn't need flattering remarks to get her to do what he wanted. She had already decided the day before that she was going to allow things to progress with him. Gazing at him, a flicker of emotion passed over his face that looked a lot like a combination of being turned on and…
confused
?

"At the risk of losing you… I mean, losing your
help
," he gulped loudly, "I have to tell you that I feel damned lucky to have you working for me."

A slow giggle built up inside of her and slipped out. "At the risk of losing my help?" she repeated his absurd statement. "You've already paid me, Logan. You've already …," she faltered, and her face burned, "you know … spanked me. I'm not going anywhere."

His look of unease instantly changed to amusement. "Are you embarrassed about that?"

"No," she answered a little too quickly.

"Are you sure? Because you look embarrassed."

She suddenly felt defensive. "Well, I'm not." When he continued to smile stupidly at her, she couldn't stop her next statement from spilling out of her. "The only thing I'm embarrassed about is that I almost fell on my face when you refused to kiss me."

His amusement disappeared in a flash and was replaced with embarrassment of his own. "I didn't
refuse,
" he countered, looking stunned at being called out. "I was caught off guard."

"Well, in my experience, a kiss isn't the sort of thing that gets planned out."

His condescending smile reappeared. "In your
experience
?"

"Look, Mr. Sexual Prowess," she began, lifting her brows at him, "I may not have been around the block as many times as you, but that doesn't mean I haven't had
experiences
."

Leaning down, Logan inched toward her. "Well," he mimicked her tone, "if I had known you were going to pout about it, I would've just kissed you."

When he ghosted his lips past hers, she scooted her chair back and put herself out of reach. "I'm not pouting. And, frankly, I don't even want that kiss anymore."

"Oh, really?" He stood and crossed his arms over his chest as he stared down at her.

"Yeah,
really
. I want a genuine toe-curling, tongue-swirling, tonsil-probing, knee-buckling, make-me-cream-my-jeans, orgasmic mouth-to-mouth lip lock—not a pity kiss."

When his lips parted in what appeared to be shock, she grabbed her notepad and pencil, stood with defiance, and moved to the other side of the room. She didn't know what this guy's deal was, but she wasn't about to be toyed with. Okay,
yes
, she was going to be
toyed
with physically, but emotionally?
Hell to the no.

*

Ms. Chloe Stephens, a.k.a.
Minou
, wasn't only talented at designing, but teasing. Even if she didn't realize she was doing it.
With her damned pastries, perfume and sketch pad
… Those unholy baked goods, scent and renderings had blindsided him.

She had called him out, and he was still feeling the sting of her words and snub. It would be comical if one didn’t take into consideration what he had done to her the day before. And especially considering he had wanted to kiss her since the first moment he laid eyes on her, and every moment after that.

Now would be the perfect time to tell her the reason for his so-called-
refusal
, but she looked as if she wasn't in the mood to hear any of his bullshit or lame excuses. They weren't all that lame to him, but they might come off that way to her. Hell, everyone had experienced heartbreak in some form or another. He didn't own the rights on a broken and betrayed heart, though that didn't make it any easier to accept.

Anyway, how exactly was one supposed to explain the reasons for only wanting a sexual relationship without coming off like a selfish prick? One wasn’t. One simply stood frozen to his spot looking like an idiot and wishing he had fucking kissed her when he had the chance.

Tonsil-probing, cream-her-jeans, knee-buckling etc., etc., lip lock
… that was a damn tall order, but one he knew he was capable of filling.

In her experience?
He nearly laughed out loud when he recalled her little rant. She was all of twenty-two years old. Earning a scholarship to go to one of the best design colleges and then graduating at the top of the class doesn't leave much room for partying or anything else, including
experiences.
He would know. And especially since Chloe had only earned a partial scholarship and had needed to work in addition to going to school.

He hadn't even bedded a couple handfuls of women yet when he was her age. His tastes for kink hadn't even been realized until his late twenties.
And Chloe?
She hadn't even been spanked, so what the fuck kind of
experiences
could she have had? None worth mentioning, that's for damned sure. All those dormitory-living, frat-boy-assholes were only interested in one thing—getting themselves off.
He would know—
he'd
been surrounded by them in college. But his mother had taught him the value of respect, and more than once he had to put his foot up several of their asses for their disrespectful attitudes toward women and their fellow students.

Oh, he would give Chloe a lip lock she would remember, and a few experiences worth bragging about, too. As for his commitment issues, well, those could fuck right off. At any rate, since when did a kiss signify a lifelong commitment? It didn't. It simply reflected a mutual physical attraction. He wasn't asking for her hand in marriage—he simply wanted to blow her mind in the sack. And he would, too.

Logan eyed Chloe closely. She may have been pretending to ignore him as if she was unaffected, but her side-eye was giving her away. Oh yeah, she still wanted that kiss and now he regretted not having given it to her to begin with. And she sure as hell was still interested in getting
friendly.

In a matter of seconds, he cut the distance between them, gripped her upper arm and spun her around, ready to show her precisely the kind of
sexual prowess
he had in his arsenal.

*

In a flash, Logan's arm was around Chloe's waist, his other hand twisted into her hair holding her steady. When she opened her mouth to speak, his lips captured hers and stifled her gasp of surprise. The pad and pencil in her hands fell to the floor, and his masculine scent and taste sent the pit of her stomach into a wild swirl. Her calm had been shattered in an instant with the hunger of his kiss, and she was trapped between the heat of his body and his mouth. She didn't want to appear too eager, but it was too late. Standing on tiptoe, her hands came up and made fists in his hair as her tongue pushed into his mouth. When it did, she swore she could feel him smile. Hard and searching, his lips devoured her, his tongue caressing every surface of her mouth.

He tugged her closer until their bodies were pressed flush against one another, and she let out a groan of excitement. When his lips nipped their way down the column of her neck to her collarbone and then back to her earlobe, a throbbing heat sprang up between her legs.

No man had ever kissed her this way—so exacting, fierce and unrelenting. She savored the taste of his passion as she grazed her fingertips over his scalp, and returned the favor by kissing him as ravenously as he had her. When her body began to tremble from the overwhelming feeling of surrender, he held her tighter still, steadying her.

She had asked for a lot, and Logan had delivered.

L
ogan had kissed Chloe completely and thoroughly. When she rose again on her tiptoes to latch her lips onto his in a shameless display of lust, he gently pulled away and pushed the hair from her eyes.

His brows pinched together, but the languid look in his eyes intensified. "We still have the matter of my ruined suit to settle."

"Would you care to elaborate?"

He pressed a finger against her mouth to silence her and swooped down to claim her lips one last time. He then took a hold of her hand to guide her next to the piano that was sitting near the staircase. Logan's movements were swift and lithe as he cleared away a few stray items on the lid of the piano and removed the music rack. As she stood waiting, his gaze drifted to her, then away and back again as a sly smile stole onto his face. The gears were turning in his head and she could only imagine what was going on in that dirty mind of his.

He pushed the small padded bench aside, gripped her waist and lifted her onto the piano. After a few minor adjustments, her legs draped over the front of it and her feet rested on the key cover. His fingers skimmed over her inner thighs and calves before he removed her pumps and tossed them aside. When he began tugging her skirt up, she lifted her bottom to assist in his manipulations. When she did, his eyes lit up the already bright room.

As her pink cotton skirt settled around her hips, his eyes darted to hers. The faint smile on his lips widened as he crept his fingers underneath her skirt to tug her panties down her legs. Once she was free of them, he slipped them into his pocket and reached up to pluck each of the buttons on her cream-colored shirt open. His eyes never left hers when he yanked the cups of her lace bra down to reveal her breasts. Without warning, his mouth captured a nipple, and goose bumps puckered the pebbled skin beneath his lips. Thrusting her chest out to push more of her breast into his mouth, Chloe smiled to hear a groan of contentment vibrate in his throat. He pulled her nipple to a point with his teeth before he withdrew and took several steps back to eye his handy-work.

"While you've been busy imagining ways to make my home beautiful, I've been envisioning ways to make you come."

The heat of blood rushed to her cheeks. She wanted to say something playful or clever in response, but words escaped her.

Two long strides brought Logan to a large chest under the staircase. "Design," he whispered so softly that she almost didn't hear him. "It isn't merely a word defined as a way in which something is planned and made, but a process and technique to show intent to give an underlying sense of purpose through planning." He knelt down and began digging through the trunk. "Design can be found in every aspect of life
.
Take our work for example, or anyone's for that matter. Even personal and casual relationships require deliberation and planning."

As Logan half spoke to himself, it became very clear to Chloe what kind of man he was: a man who loved control; a man who achieved that control through tedious preparation
.
He was the kind of man who did exactly what he set out to do. One look around his meticulously detailed home proved that.

"Anything in life worth having requires a plan of action," he continued.

Chloe's nerves tingled from Logan's passionately spoken words. Whatever
action
he was cooking up, she was eager to experience it. Without thinking, she slid a hand between her legs.

"Or, at least there should be to make it enjoyable …" Logan's voice trailed off when the squeak of her skin against the lacquer top caught his attention.

His eyes grew languid when he caught her dipping a finger into herself, but he scolded her with a
tsk tsk
and a slow shake of his head.

"In the House of Evans, good girls wait," his voice deepened.

Embarrassed at being caught, she gave him an apologetic smile. When she tucked her hands under her thighs, he went back to rummaging through his treasure box. Only a few seconds later, he seemed to find what he was looking for, put something into his pocket and stood.

In his hands were four bundled pieces of red braided, thick nylon rope. Each looked new.

One side of his mouth lifted in a lopsided grin as he glided next to the piano. "I had intended on using these when my home was complete, but seeing as you're here, now… well, I believe in seizing moments like this when they present themselves. And although I believe in making plans ahead of time, even the smallest bit of preparation can go a long way when it comes to things of this nature."

He grabbed her hand and brought it to his mouth to suck the finger that had been inside of her. "You taste even better than I imagined."

The satisfied look on his face, his words, and his guttural moan made her body heat to an unbearable degree. His eyes roamed over her face and when he sensed her mortification, he offered a smile.

He put the palm of his hand against her bare chest and gently pushed until she came to lay flat. His gaze fixed on hers as he reached for her left wrist.

"There's no need to be nervous."

"I'm not," she lied. The skin around the corners of his eyes tightened when she swallowed loudly, and he gave her a disbelieving lift of his brows. "Okay, I'm a little nervous," she confessed when she saw him loop the soft rope around her wrist.

"I would never hurt you,
Minou
," he reassured her as he slipped two fingers under the rope to test its tautness.

He bent down and disappeared out of view for only a moment when her arm stretched out to the side of her. Slowly and deliberately, he moved to each of her other limbs and tied them to the legs of the piano, and in less than two minutes, she was splayed out on the old black, scuffed baby grand.

Logan stepped to the side of the piano again and stared down at her.

"I've used quick-release knots.
This time,"
he said with a wink
as he reached into his pants pocket to withdraw a satin blindfold. "I had planned on saving this, too," he murmured against her lips as he leaned down.

Her heart pounded against her rib cage when he slipped the shield over her eyes.

"I'll stop anytime you want—all you have to do is say the word," he whispered as his warm damp mouth pressed against hers. When she remained silent his words rang out only slightly louder. "Tell me that you understand."

She nodded, licked her parched lips, and answered, "I understand."

Stripped of her vision, all of Chloe's other senses came alive. As she waited for Logan's next move, each sound and sensation became amplified: his footsteps moving to the other end of the room, a warm breeze coming in from the open kitchen window fluttering over her skin, the scent of his expensive cologne drifting past her, items being picked up and moved around.

The music from his speakers suddenly went silent and only the sound of her heart beating in her ears and her loud breathing could be heard.

All at once, his hands were on her hiking her skirt up further and exposing her completely. His soft, masculine laugh rang out as he ran his fingers over her neatly trimmed mound.

"I wondered about this."

Again, her cheeks flushed. She had never felt so vulnerable.
And so excited.
She wrenched against the restraints when his mouth crashed down onto the place where her pleasure centered, and an excited gasp escaped her lips.

With one hand on her thigh and the other squeezing a breast, his tongue did wicked, skilled things as the sounds of gratification followed. She thrashed her head back and forth as her release quickly built up. Her belly had no sooner begun to quiver when he stopped, a cool chill settling on the place where his hot mouth had just been.

The key cover rubbing against the soles her feet as it was pushed back took her by surprise. The highs and low notes from her toes inadvertently hitting the keys and the creak of wood against wood made her lift her head.

She remembered seeing the old piano for the first time and thinking it was merely for aesthetic appeal. She had always thought a piano in the home of someone who didn't play was pretentious and snobby, especially when there were less-fortunate musicians who had nothing on which to hone their skills. However, she imagined the kind of skills Logan was honing with her tied to the musical instrument weren't exactly the kind that most musicians were trying to perfect. Then again, what did she know? Maybe this sort of sexual eccentricity was par for the course when it came to artists.

"It's a bit out of tune, but, surprisingly, it's held up well over the years," Logan's statement cut through her thoughts as his fingers glided over the ivory as if re-familiarizing himself with an old friend. "I haven't played in years. I don't even know why the hell my mom shipped this damned thing to me. All its done is sit in my apartment like an obnoxious decoration and reminder of …"

His statement went unfinished as he began to play a song.

"Without fail, every one of my Monday, Wednesday and Friday evenings from ages seven-to-seventeen were spent learning the classics," he declared and belted out a humorless laugh. "You can imagine how well that went over once I actually got a social life. I hated those damned lessons and the reason I was made to take them. But God bless my mom—she went into debt buying this piano for me."

His voice had dropped to a whisper and something in his tone hinted at sadness, yet it was strangely soothing. Maybe it wasn't his voice so much as it was the mellow, lulling notes that tinkled beneath her, the vibration of each hammer hitting the string, and his warm fingers randomly touching her feet sending new sensations up her spine and over her flesh.

The tune was familiar, though Chloe didn't know what it was.

"What's the song?" she asked.

"Flower Duet from Lakmé," he breathed out as another succession of notes filled her ears.

His deep voice and the anticipation of waiting for his contact made her squirm, causing her bottom to squeak against the piano top.

"I dreamt of you last night." His voice dropped several octaves as if uncomfortable with his admission. "Just the way you are—on this piano, waiting impatiently for my touch. That's the only reason I'm playing." He let out another laugh that sounded more genuine. "At least I'm finally putting this thing to good use."

She heard the scrape of wood again, and other than her accidental touches on the keys, the song Logan played never missed a beat. Slow and steady, never too loud, the notes continued as his tongue delved inside her once again.

"Please, I want to look at you," she begged as her legs began to shake from his ravenous undertaking.

The sweet sound of music paused just long enough for Logan to respond, “
Tout ce que tu veux, peu importe, Minou
,”
an
d
reach up to tug the blindfold off.

Chloe’s insides melted with his foreign words, but she lifted her head to give him a questioning look.

“Anything you want,” he clarified with a lick of his lips.

His last word had no sooner slipped past his lips than he buried his head between her legs again as he stood with his hands on the keyboard below him. When his eyes darted upward to meet her gaze, his blue eyes blazed with arousal. She laid her head back as a slow smile spread across her face.
Anything she wanted
… she liked that.

Her breathing became ragged and as her climax neared, the blackness behind her closed lids dazzled with pinpoints of light. When her hips began to rock in motion with each of his nibbles and licks, she wrenched against the ropes one last time. Her right arm freed itself from the loose knot, and she let out a quiet whimper of satisfaction as she sunk her teeth into her lower lip.

While her body continued to quake from Logan's oral assault, he seated himself back on the bench and finished the song with a flourish and a smile.

"I'd say we're even for my suit."

*

Logan's body ached with the need for release of its own, but from the looks of it, Chloe was in no shape to reciprocate. Promptly, he untied her remaining limbs, lifted her off the piano, replaced her panties, realigned her skirt and buttoned her shirt. He then carried her to a left-over loveseat from his apartment days and handed her the sketch pad and pencil she had dropped on the floor, as well as her phone. He disappeared into the kitchen to retrieve them both something to drink, as well as to get his raging boner under control by means of an adjustment.

When he returned to her side with a bottle of water, she was back to drawing as a sexy tune played on her phone. Without looking up, she reached for the bottle of water in his hand and took a large gulp.

Unsure if her refusal to make eye contact was due to bashfulness, he sat quietly watching her while he listened to the provocative lyrics that seemed to speak directly to him. Tired of waiting for her to look at him, he grabbed her phone to see what the song was.
Your Design
flashed on the screen. When his eyes focused on her again, a playful smile reached from ear to ear, telling him that she had purposely chosen the song for him.