Cassandra almost rolled her eyes, but she caught herself in time. “You’re actually not far off from the truth. I’m the only girl in my family, and my mom used to drag me to pageants when I was growing up. When I was fifteen, I was at one in Miami, and I got the runner-up spot, but after it was over there was this guy talking to my mom about modeling. He wanted us to come see him, my parents looked into it and they were a legit agency, so… we went.”

  “And then you were a model?” he asked.

  “Yeah. It happened so fast that I don’t think any of us were ready. Mom traveled with me the first year, and then it was just me going all over the country, and then the world.” Cassandra shrugged. “It was really cool, obviously, but sometimes I wish I’d finished high school the normal way. You know, parties, prom, the whole thing.”

  “Did the modeling agency hire tutors for you to finish?”

  She almost laughed at the idea. “No. I finished high school online. The nice part was I got to finish a year early.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me at all.”

  “What about it?” she asked, studying his serious expression.

  “That you finished early. You’re quick-witted, which is always a sign of intelligence.” The raw honesty of the compliment stunned her for a second, because she couldn’t remember the last time a guy had said something nice about her that didn’t involve her looks or her clothes.

  “Thank you, Logan.”

  He shrugged like it meant nothing while he scanned the dancers and the band below. “Okay, your turn.”

  “My turn for what?”

  “We’re on a date, right?” he clarified, a smirk sneaking over his lips. “That means we try to get to know one another outside of the kink.”

  “Okay… well, how did you get into your career?”

  “Family business.” The answer was short, abrupt, and the pause lengthened as he avoided her gaze, but then he finally glanced at her and she gestured for him to continue. Sighing, Logan pushed a hand back through his hair, leaving it tousled as he started to speak. “It’s boring, but fine. My grandfather started the company on the East Coast. Wall Street and all that. Came out here to be closer to all the new money in California, and it was a smart move. The company did well, my father took over when my grandfather retired, and then I took over when my father died. All inherited, and you can feel free to call me out on that as you like.”

  Dead?

  There was no quick-witted response to that. All she felt was sorry for him, and before she could even come up with the appropriate thing to say, the waitress appeared to take their orders. Sitting up straight, Cassandra managed to get through her order, adding a martini to go along with his old fashioned.

  As soon as the waitress walked away, Logan turned to her and grinned. “My turn.”

  “Wait, Logan, I’m so sorry about your dad. When did he die?”

  “Seven years ago,” he answered stiffly, his body language matching his tone, and she leaned over to grab his hand, forcing him to let her fingers intertwine with his.

  “I’m really sorry. Is your mom still around?”

  He tugged at her grip on his hand as he said, “No.”

  “What about your grandparents?” she pressed, holding his hand tighter as she leaned forward to try and catch his gaze again, but his eyes were glued to the party going on below. “Logan?”

  “It’s my turn.” It was a clear end to her questions, but it left her with so many more. Still, she didn’t want to ruin the evening by dredging up his bad memories, so she relented.

  “All right, what’s your question?” Cassandra made sure she was smiling when he looked at her, and she felt him relax a little beside her.

  “What was your talent?” he asked, his grin returning slowly. “When you were in the pageants.”

  “You are such an asshole.” Laughing, she leaned back in the chair, feeling her cheeks burning with a blush.

  “Come on, tell me.” He squeezed her hand. “I promise it’ll be our secret.”

  “I hate you so much for this…” Groaning, she closed her eyes so she didn’t have to see his face as she said, “Baton twirling.”

  His chuckle made her open them, and she reached over to smack his shoulder.

  “Don’t laugh!”

  “No, no, that’s great. Honestly, I’m just glad to know you’ve always had a talent with handling batons,” he replied, laughing more, and she couldn’t help but groan before she started laughing too.

  “God, you’re such a dick.”

  “I never claimed to be otherwise,” he retorted.

  “Whatever. My turn,” she said, smiling up at the waitress as she dropped off their drinks before hurrying back down the row of tables. Grabbing her martini, she saw Logan holding his glass out and she tapped it with hers before taking a sip. Cassandra waited for him to put his drink down, but he wouldn’t look at her.

  “Go on. Ask,” he said, a little sharply, and she grinned.

  “What’s your favorite color?”

  “What?” Logan turned toward her, obviously confused, and she shrugged.

  “I want to know.”

  “It’s blue. Actually, more of a dark blue. Like that second dress you wore in the show.” His eyes slipped down her body before coming back to her face. “I would definitely buy that dress just to see you in it again.”

  “What did you think of the show?”

  “I thought you were gorgeous,” he replied, taking another drink before he shrugged. “The rest of it is kind of a blur, honestly. Definitely not how I normally spend my time.”

  “How do you normally spend your time?” she asked, sincerely curious, but he shook his head at her.

  “Oh no, it’s my turn.”

  “Come on!” she encouraged, quickly switching tactics when she could tell he was going to refuse. “Please, sir?”

  Logan’s mouth was already open to argue, but it snapped shut as he turned to stare at her. “That’s not fair.”

  “You know you like it when I beg,” she whispered, and the groan that rumbled in his chest made her grin. “Pretty please?”

  “Brat,” he said on a laugh. “Fine, I pretty much work all the time. If I have to go out to dinner with prospective high-end clients, I do, but those are always miserable. I go to the club for classes, or to try and find someone to play with — which has been difficult this past year — or I’m at home. Working. Usually with a movie on in the background.”

  Seriously?

  Cassandra didn’t know what she’d expected, but it wasn’t something so… reserved. Solitary.

  “Now it is my turn, no arguments or pleading will be accepted.” Logan picked up his glass, taking another sip as he narrowed his eyes on her in a faux serious stare. “What’s your favorite movie?”

  “Spaceballs,” she replied quickly, and he chuckled. “What? It’s an awesome movie!”

  “It definitely is. You just continue to surprise me.” Leaning over, he pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. “Mine is Die Hard. All of them, actually. I’ve seen them an embarrassing number of times.”

  Smiling, Cassandra grabbed his shirt to pull him in for another kiss. “They’re good movies.”

  “I knew you had good taste,” he replied in between kisses.

  They continued to ask each other stupid questions as they ate dinner, but the answers were actually good. She found out he’d played lacrosse in school and later at Yale. His comfort food was gelato, which she whole-heartedly supported, and there were a dozen other little details that made Logan someone real. There was still that nagging concern for how they could make things work, but in the haze of laughter and good food and well-poured drinks… she didn’t care as much.

  “You done?” he asked, and she could tell he was because he moved his chair back to stand.

  “What about dessert?”

  Grinning, Logan held out his hand for her and leaned his head toward the stairs. “We can have dessert after we enjoy the band a bit.”

  “Promise?”

  “Get up, Cassandra,” he commanded, and she stood with a grin, taking his hand so he could lead her back down the beautiful staircase. There were other people standing around the perimeter of the dance floor, watching the couples as the songs alternated between instrumental only and ones where the singer took the mic.

  “This is so cool,” she said, leaning close to Logan’s ear, and he moved behind her to wrap his arms around her waist.

  “I’m really glad you like it.” He pulled her back against his chest, swaying with her to the music, and she was mesmerized by the couples who were moving quickly around the floor to the beat. “Think you can stow your brat for a little while?”

  “Why?” she asked on a laugh.

  “Because I need you to trust me for a minute.”

  Leaning to the side, she met his gaze. “I do trust you, Logan.”

  She had never seen him smile as brightly as he did right then, and a second later he caught her hand and pulled her tight before turning them onto the dancefloor. The next moment he spun her away, catching her just as their arms fully extended to tug her back against him, forcing her to sway with him as they whirled through the other couples.

  Holy shit, he can dance.

  There was no time to react, or speak, all she could do was laugh as he dipped her on a downbeat, lifting her upright only to twirl her. With a smooth sidestep, he moved behind her, catching her under the arms, only to take a huge step back so that she almost fell — but she didn’t. Logan was there, tossing her back to her feet in perfect rhythm to the song, and then her head spun again.

  “Logan!” she half-shouted, still laughing as he caught her by the hand again. Facing him now, she saw him shuffling back with the kind of footwork she’d only seen in movies, before tugging her against him again for another fluid move around the dancefloor. Breathless, she heard the music change, a faster rhythm, and Logan matched it perfectly.

  “Hold on,” he whispered against her ear just before he spun her away, but this time when he pulled her back toward him, he caught both of her hands and swung her under his legs and back upright.

  There was no break, and she tried to just follow his lead without screwing him up. Dance had never been her thing, but maybe she’d just never had the right partner, because this was way more fun than any dance class she’d been forced to attend. Logan twirled her, lifted her, tossed her over his shoulder, and spun her around the dancefloor until her cheeks ached from all the laughing.

  Finally, with one last blast of the trumpet, the music died down and Logan spun her back into his arms, dipping her to place a rather chaste kiss to her lips. Over the blood rushing in her ears and the sounds of their frantic breathing, she heard applause as he lifted her upright. People were whistling, cheering, and she could feel the heat in her cheeks as they nodded at the other dancers and the small crowd. Squeezing his hand tight, she tugged him toward the edge of the dancefloor, and he went with her.

  As soon as they snuck through the crowd, stopped by several people complimenting them — complimenting him — they reached a more open space by the stairs and all she could do was stare at him and try to catch her breath. He was breathing hard too, and she wasn’t surprised.

  “Why the hell didn’t you warn me you could dance like that!”

  “It was a surprise,” he answered, grinning broadly. “Honestly, I’m just glad I remembered as much as I did.”

  Smacking his arm, she laughed. “Are you kidding? That was fucking incredible! I— I don’t even know where I’ve seen something like that!”

  “Cassandra…” He caught her hand again, yanking her hard against his front, and then she felt the burn of the swat as his palm landed on her ass. “You’re going to have to stop hitting me, or we’re going to have a very different evening.”

  “Like what?” she asked, struggling to breathe evenly as he shifted her back against the little piece of wall beside the steps. Blocking her in.

  “I’m not opposed to a little take-down play if you feel like being feisty,” he purred against her ear, tightening his grip on her wrist as he stroked over her hip, pushing her more firmly into the wall.

  “That sounds fun, sir,” she whispered, heat pooling between her thighs.

  “Fuck,” he groaned, his blue eyes ablaze, and she nodded.

  “Yeah, exactly.”

  “We’re going to my place.” It was a command, a cocky assumption, but it was one she was definitely not going to argue.

  There was only one thing she wanted to ask.

  “How soon can we get out of here?”

  Chapter 13

  Logan

  The car ride home took an infuriatingly long time, but Cassandra kept their fingers entwined almost the whole time — at least until he left the highway and her hand moved to his thigh… and then to his dick. He’d almost slammed on the breaks to fuck her in the first dark spot he could find, but logic managed to override need, and he made her sit on her hands, testing the speed limit on the way home.

  Pulling into his garage, Logan started to close it before he even turned off the car. “Out,” he growled, and she flashed a naughty little smile as she obeyed.

  They collided as he was opening the door into the house, her lips just as hungry as his, and then they were stumbling together down the hall. He grabbed the dress and ripped it over her head, immediately reaching for her again as he dropped the fabric to the floor.

  “Feel like fighting me?” he asked between kisses, tracing the line of her throat as she made a soft sound and reached for his pants, fumbling at the belt.

  “Don’t think I can play hard to get at the moment,” she answered, and he nipped her shoulder hard, earning a delicious squeak and a breathy sigh.

  “Next time then.” Taking her hand, he practically dragged her up the stairs, but he’d been patient enough. He’d waited days to touch her again, and the little brat had taunted him all night with her sass, and then teased him in the car. All he wanted was to hear her whimper and moan, to feel her come again.

  “Jesus Christ, your house is huge,” she said with a laugh, and he caught her just outside his bedroom, pinning her to the wall.

  “I’ll give you the tour in the morning. Right now I have other ideas.”

  “I’m good with that,” she purred, kissing him again, and he took control. Running his hands over her curves, needing more, and he couldn’t do that in the damn hall. Grabbing her under the thighs, he lifted her, shifting his hold to her ass when she wrapped her legs around his hips. Kissing her was better than any drug he’d tried in his misspent youth, and he took his fill while he carried her into his bedroom.

  “You’ve been such a naughty brat tonight,” he whispered against her lips just before he dropped her onto the bed, catching one thigh to flip her to her stomach. She laughed as he yanked her back to the edge by her hips.

  “I thought I’d been a good girl?”

  “Did you think I forgot the eyerolls? The sass?” he asked, ripping his belt free, and he loved the way her thighs snapped together, her toes digging into the rug under his bed. She’d lost her heels somewhere in his house, but he’d worry about that in the morning. Cassandra was ready, lifting her ass because she knew exactly what was coming, and his little masochist wanted it.

  The first snap of the dress belt was stiff, wrong, and he groaned and threw it at the wall. Stomping over to his closet, he grabbed a better one, wider, softer, and then knelt down to take his shoes off as quickly as he could.

  Abandoning them in his closet, he returned to the bedroom to find her on her side, staring at him, and he shook his head. “Did I say you could move?”

  Cassandra laughed, moving back into position fast, but that wasn’t good enough. Landing the belt hard, he watched her arch, a sweet groan leaving her lips before he leaned down to wrap his hand gently around her throat.

  “Did I say you could move?” Logan repeated, tone much harsher, and he felt the way she swallowed against his palm.

  “No, sir,” she whispered, and he squeezed just enough to have her squirming before he let go and stood up again.

  “That’s right. And naughty little brats get punished, don’t they?” he asked.

  The question was obviously rhetorical as he brought the belt down again, but she still shouted her answer with a perfect, “Yes, sir!”

  “Good girl,” he praised, adding another stripe to her ass. “Eventually you’re going to learn that rolling your eyes around me isn’t a smart idea, and we both know how smart you are.”

  “Apparently not that smart,” she sassed, and he aimed the belt at her sit spot, immediately repeating it, which made her hands clench in the bedding as she hissed air through her teeth. “Fuck!”

  “Not yet,” he replied, grinning behind her as he fulfilled his promise to light her ass up for refusing date after date on the fragile premise that dealing with her schedule would be a challenge. Thinking of their conversation made him bring the belt down with a zipping smack, and she whined into the bed, her hips wiggling. “So, did you enjoy our date?”

  “I’m still waiting to see how it ends.” There was laughter in her voice, and he had to bite back his own laugh as he shook his head behind her.

  “You have no sense of self-preservation, you know that?”

  “Are we still warming up?” she asked, and he bit down on the urge to go and grab the cane he had in his playroom. They’d need to talk about that first, because those marks wouldn’t go away in a day, and he didn’t want to fuck up a photoshoot for her… but someday he’d find time for it. In the meantime, he brought the belt down in a rapid series of swats that he knew would build on top of each other, and her keening whine was music to his ears.

  “Foot down,” he growled, catching her ankle where she’d tried to block him to deliver a quick, stinging strike to her arch.

  “Fuck!” Cassandra whined, twisting in his grip, and he let her put it back on the floor.

  “Be a good girl and that won’t happen again.” Looking over the welts, he added another few where the skin was already raised, and she wiggled and groaned but kept her feet down and out of his way. “Still think we’re warming up?”

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24