Without another word, she stepped out of her clothes, one garment at a time, then neatly folded each into a little pile, which she set before him. Once done, she stood, waiting, cool air brushing over her ni**les, making them tight. They throbbed. Logan sent her a hot stare that nearly made her toes curl.
Damn it, why did he still get to her? She had to overcome this arousal. Her body and feelings weren’t important, just the mission.
Easy to think, but hard to remember when Logan stepped so close she felt heat pouring off his hard, substantial body. He lifted a finger to her, its tip settling between her br**sts, and brushed a soft, tantalizing line directly down her abdomen slowly, pausing just above the mound of her sex. He waited there, unmoving. Incredibly, his light touch made her pu**y clench with emptiness. Blood rushed between her thighs, moisture pooled, coating her folds, though he’d barely touched her.
Finally, his finger descended again. He smiled as it drifted through her damp red curls to nestle against her hard clit, which swelled under his touch.
His smile only widened. “Good, Cherry. Today, we’re going to start with a demonstration. It will provide you instruction, as well as help me understand how best to proceed. Let’s go.”
He tugged her toward the door, and she pulled from his grasp. “I can’t go out there naked.”
The second her words were out, Tara knew she’d made a mistake.
“Your nudity isn’t your concern.” Logan’s face was a thunderclap of displeasure. “While you train with me, you and your body belong to me. As always, you can say your safe word. In that case, we will discuss and resolve the issue, then resume training. Or you may quit the mission altogether, in which case I’m sure that Thorpe and the FBI will happily sever all contact between us.”
His cold speech set her teeth on edge. She was a grown, capable woman. Putting herself in someone else’s hands so utterly felt foreign. She worked every day in an environment where she was expected to suppress her own emotions and use her logic, so suddenly having to do the opposite wasn’t easy. Training with Logan scared her to death. But if she was going to solve this case and possibly be a successful agent, she had to suck up her courage and swallow her pride.
“Understood, Logan.”
She expected amusement to flash across his features. Instead, searing desire glowed in his dark blue eyes, flushed the slashes of his cheekbones. A glance down told her that his erection still bulged in his leather pants.
Her breathing grew unstable when he turned her away, took her arm in one hand and slung the other low on her opposite hip, and led her out of the dungeon. A frightening sense of exposure washed over her as they walked down the hall. Though the club wasn’t quite open for public play yet, Thorpe and some of the other resident Doms were already roaming. She’d run into a few as she rushed to confront Logan. But then, she’d been clothed. Now, he was parading her though the halls without a stitch, his touch all but branding her.
It terrified her, and yet . . . Tara felt Logan’s desire spilling hotly in the air between them, along with his pride and pleasure that she overcame her own fears to follow his command. As much as she hated to admit it, it turned her on.
She turned to him with a puzzled glance over her shoulder. “I don’t understand what’s happening.”
He glanced at her hot cheeks. “You want to know why you’re responding to this. Because deep inside, you feel sensual in your own skin. And you know that you’re pleasing your Dom by trusting me, which for a submissive, is a pleasure all its own.”
“I shouldn’t give a god damn whether you’re happy. You don’t care whether I am.”
Logan leveled her with a direct blue stare. “You’re dead wrong. There are things you don’t know, and I want to tell you . . .” He shook his head. “When you’re ready. Just know that your happiness matters more than anything. If you let me, I’ll fulfill your fantasies. Your submission, if you truly give it, will allow me the privilege of doing so.”
His words sent a fission of heat through her, which she ruthlessly pressed down. Focus on the academic. “None of this makes a damn bit of sense.”
“It will. Come with me.”
As they rounded a corner, they came face-to-face with another Dom. She didn’t know his name, but he had that sharp, shrewd way about him. He’d be dangerous across a negotiating table. Under that pristine dress shirt and tailored slacks beat the heart of a predator. He and Logan had that in common.
“Jason,” Logan greeted.
“Edgington.” His gray eyes flickered over to her.
Tara squirmed as she felt the man’s gaze touch her face, her br**sts, the flat of her belly, then settle for a brief moment on the red curls guarding her sex. Tara crossed one leg in front of the other, settled her arms over her chest.
“Hands at your sides and feet apart,” Logan demanded.
He wanted Jason to look at her? Knowing she had to get past this hurdle for her mission, Tara forced herself to comply. Logan rewarded her with a smile of approval that lit her up inside.
Damn it, why? Normally, she’d be running for cover, refusing to let a stranger see her and wondering if he found her lacking. She’d be fuming that Logan demanded she show herself. She damn sure wouldn’t care what he thought of her behavior. But all of those mores and insecurities paled when she saw the flash of his smile. Why?
“Get out of your head,” Logan instructed. “Don’t look for logic. Just feel.”
Right. Her discomfort wasn’t the point. Learning to give herself over to the mission—to him—was.
Jason grinned, then glanced back at Logan. “How’s your slave in training?”
“In need of a lot of instruction. I was actually coming to ask if you’re seeing the policewoman today.”