His words couldn’t have shocked Tara more, especially when something somber and pensive crossed his face. Why would he want to discuss that?
“I was a naïve girl, and you were a hormonal teenage prick. After your mom’s death, you were hurting and lashed out at me. End of story.”
Logan shook his head. “There was far more involved. I’d like to explain.”
Was he out of his mind? Give a player like him more opportunities to spin his lies and woo her back into bed so he could hurt her again? “No.”
He looked disappointed, but resigned. “This isn’t a part of your training. This is personal between us. If you change your mind, ask me outside this place, when we don’t have an audience. I genuinely believe it will change the way you feel.”
Tara opened her mouth, then snapped it closed. That crushed, angry girl still inside of her wanted to hear his explanation, but only if it ended with some confession of Logan’s undying love. She gave a cynical snort. Stupid. Far more likely that he’d been confused and grieving, and received a great deal of comfort in Brittany Fuller’s legendary blow jobs. Besides, what good would rehashing the past do? She needed to keep him at arm’s length and focus on her job.
“I doubt that, so I’ll skip it.”
“That offer is always on the table. But we’ll get back to training for now. I gave you an order to strip. And while it wasn’t first on my agenda, we can finish yesterday’s punishment now. If you’re disobedient, I’ll add to it.”
“I said my safe word. You should respect that, as should Thorpe. Why the hell is he violating his own club’s rules by giving me back to you?”
Logan stalked closer, and she didn’t want to notice the way his black T-shirt hugged each rippling muscle of his torso or that his leather pants clung to every inch of his erection. Nothing to the imagination there. No denying, he looked good. Okay, great. Mouthwatering. But he was definitely up to no good.
“Thorpe and I had a . . . heart-to-heart yesterday. We understand each other, and for the next seven days, you are completely in my hands. End of story. Any questions, Cherry?”
“What’s your angle? Are you hoping to nail me so you can cut me cold and see if I bleed again. You get off on my humiliation?”
“I’ve never wanted to hurt you. I didn’t then, and I don’t now. Besides, do you really think humiliating you crossed my mind yesterday when I had my tongue in your mouth and my fingers in your pu**y?”
Tara wanted to cringe—but refused. “Thank God my taste in men has improved since I was sixteen.”
“Brad sold exam keys and crystal meth to anyone with cash back in high school, so I’m gonna disagree.” Logan smiled tightly. “Understand that invoking the safe word only ends the current scene, it doesn’t sever the contact between us. So you can stop me if you’re very uncomfortable with whatever is happening. But screaming ‘Romeo’ won’t make me disappear. Do you understand?”
That unless she wanted to let Darcy die and give up on following in her stepfather’s footsteps to make him proud, she was stuck with Logan with virtually no recourse for a week? Fine, she’d suck it up. She was the perfect bait and she wasn’t going to let her colleagues down. “Yes.”
Besides, no way in hell would she let him get the best of her ever again.
“Yes, Logan,” he corrected. “I want to hear my name on your lips.”
She gave him a long-suffering sigh. “Yes, Logan.”
“That attitude is going to get your ass spanked a lot. I’d think carefully, if I were you.”
“But you’re not me, Logan.”
He gritted his teeth. “True, and we’ll get back to your attitude. Right now, I’d like to apologize for losing control of the situation yesterday and pushing you so hard and so quickly.”
That set her back. Was he trying to get under her guard to seduce her again? Did that explain why he suddenly wanted to discuss their past? Logan looked sincere . . . but he’d only apologized for pushing her, not for kissing her in the first place.
“Assuming you actually mean that and given that we’re going to be working together, I have a condition: Don’t kiss me again. You’re supposed to be mentally preparing me to submit for a mission, not seducing me.”
A faint smile curled up the edges of his mouth, but he wasn’t amused. “Mental preparation is at the top of my agenda, but that’s going to involve touching you in about every way possible. You don’t get to give me any parameters. So if you’d like to stop arguing and get down to work so you can save Agent Miles, I suggest you strip.”
God, she hated that command. It made her vulnerable to him, which was precisely why he was so fond of it. But it turned him on, too. She’d use that to her advantage if he pressed her again.
“If I have to repeat the command again, it won’t be pretty.” Logan crossed his arms over his chest, waiting.
Tara tried not to grit her teeth. Once undercover, she might be given to a Dom who would insist on her nudity twenty-four/seven. She had to ditch her inhibitions and the discomfort of having her less-than-perfect body scrutinized. And she had to stop interacting with Logan on a personal level. He was her trainer. He wanted her naked. She needed to comply.
“Should I fold my garments and lay them at your feet?” Even saying the words burned through her anger and began a dangerous pulse of hunger in her belly.
His blue eyes darkened. “Yes.”