leaving her naked, her nipples peaked, her thighs parted, her pussy wanting.
He toyed with her nipples, then slid his hand between her legs. Even with their mouths joined, she moaned and rocked toward him, hungrily seeking release.
Just moments before she came, he pulled his hand away.
“What?” Confused, she blinked when he took a step back.
“I want you to think of me.”
“I…” Is he serious? He intended to leave her unfulfilled? Goosebumps raced up her arms.
Without another word, he turned and headed toward the home’s entryway. He shrugged into his jacket, gave her instructions on locking up then picked up his bag.
After he opened the front door, he looked over his shoulder. “Oh, and, Jennifer?”
She met his gaze.
“I meant that I want you to think of me. So don’t masturbate.” With that, he left. The door closed behind him with a resounding shudder.
Chapter Nine
On autopilot, she went through the motions of getting ready to leave, applying a little makeup, ensuring her flogger was in her bag. She took one last trip through the guest room and tried not to remember the way Logan had fucked her, then in the middle of the night, had made love to her.
Before leaving, she locked up and hid the key where Logan had instructed.
As he’d said, her car had been scraped, and he’d also cleared the driveway and sidewalk. Not only that but he’d sprinkled salt so it hadn’t iced over again.
The drive home was slow, but not treacherous.
Her house, though, was freezing cold, and not just from the temperature.
Midmorning, Logan sent a text, asking if she had made it home okay.
She grinned, feeling suddenly warmer.
Around noon, he sent a second message, letting her know it might be a while before he contacted her again. He’d followed mid-afternoon with a third.
Be patient?
She’d replied that she would.
And then…nothing.
Noelle called around four. “Well?”
“I have no idea where to begin.”
“Since you stayed two nights, it can’t have been terrible?”
“It was amazing.”
“So tell me about it.”
“Honestly, I’m still processing.”
“Let’s have drinks with the Divas on Wednesday.”
By then, she might have heard from him. Or realized he wasn’t going to call. “Perfect.”
For the rest of the afternoon and way too late into the night, she checked her phone before giving in to frustration and turning it off altogether.
Not that it mattered. When she woke up, she saw there had been no notifications.
At work on Monday, she placed her phone on her desk and waited for it to ring or signal a text from him. Although she received half a dozen messages from Noelle, Jennifer didn’t hear from Logan.
She finally told her friend that she hadn’t heard from him.
Noelle advised her to give him time. After all, he was a busy man.
Which was true. But that didn’t help.
By Tuesday, Jennifer’s frustration made her irritable at the office. It wasn’t just because she hadn’t heard from him, but also because she’d been stupid enough to follow his dictate not to masturbate despite being desperate for an orgasm.
She asked herself why she was obeying him. They didn’t have a relationship. It wasn’t as if she were his sub. She didn’t know whether he actually would call again. How the hell long was she supposed to wait?
‘I always keep my promises.’
His words haunted her. But so did his silence.
The harder she tried not to think about him or the way he’d secured her to the St. Andrew’s cross, the more persistent the memories became, growing bigger in her fantasies and invading her dreams.
She gave a silent prayer of thanks when Wednesday finally arrived and she met the Carpe Diem Divas for happy hour at a local bar in her neighborhood.
“You don’t look happy,” Ava observed.
Not much got past the Divas.
“So, what’s wrong?” Ava persisted.
“You still haven’t heard from him?” Noelle guessed.
“From who?” Eden demanded.
For the next few minutes, Noelle confessed her part in helping set up Logan and Jennifer.
Then Eden turned to Jennifer. “And? Did you scene with him?”
“Yeah,” Jennifer acknowledged. “I did.”
“Did he paddle you like that other Dom did?”
“He did. But it wasn’t at all like the time with Master Simon.”
She fanned herself.
“And he used my flogger.”
“The one we bought when we were shopping for that bachelorette party?” Morgan demanded. Without waiting for an answer, she plowed ahead. “I knew it! How was it?”
“Better than I imagined,” Jennifer revealed, rubbing her finger around the outside of her margarita glass.
She knew Eden would press for information, but honestly, she wanted to keep most of the details to herself. They were private—not necessarily because