her nipples, but she couldn’t get any kind of satisfaction from it. She needed more pressure. Or, better yet, some pain.
Frustrated, she sat up and pulled the plug to drain the water.
After climbing from the claw-foot tub, she wrapped a towel around herself and went to find her toy bag.
She pulled out the nipple clamps she’d never played with, and she grabbed a small vibrator, then climbed onto the bed.
As soon as she closed her eyes, she imagined Master Logan telling her what to do. “Yes,” she whispered to the empty room as she rolled her right nipple, teased it, pulled on it, elongating it in preparation for the bite of the tiny, serrated alligator teeth.
She recalled the way he’d placed the clamp last weekend, and she did the same.
The grip scored her tender flesh, and she lifted her hips from the mattress. Since she’d been left wanting last Sunday morning, arousal had lain in her belly, low and hot. Now it flared in fervent demand.
Jennifer repeated the process with her left nipple, and this time she moaned. The pain made her clit throb. She didn’t just want an orgasm—she needed it.
With her eyes still closed, her imagination still racing, she reached for the vibrator, then turned it on. She parted her labia and placed the wriggling nubby head of the bullet against her clit.
She dug her heels in beneath her, arching her back as she pressed against the vibrator. “Damn…” Wishing Logan were there, she slipped a finger in her pussy, then pushed the bullet hard against her clit, rapidly moving her wrist to create more motion.
Her breaths came faster and faster, sharper and sharper.
“What in the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“Sir…”
“Didn’t I tell you not to orgasm?”
“But…” Goddamn. Jennifer couldn’t get there, couldn’t come… Maybe just a little more pressure…
“I said stop it immediately, Jennifer.”
Fuck. All of a sudden, fantasy vanished. His voice seemed so fucking real. Panting, she opened her eyes, then screamed.
Logan stood in her bedroom only a few feet away, wearing a ferocious scowl, his arms folded formidably across his chest.
Petrified, stunned at being caught, pissed off that he was there, and fucking elated that he was, she remained frozen, her pulse racing. “Logan.”
“Master Logan,” he corrected. “I’ll take that.” He held out a hand and glanced at the still-buzzing bullet she’d somehow dropped onto the mattress. “And then you can get on your knees and explain what the hell you think you’re doing.”
Chapter Ten
Logan waited impatiently for her to follow his orders.
Instead, she sat up and demanded, “What are you doing here?” She grabbed a nearby robe and dragged it against her.
The motion knocked off one of the alligator clamps. She winced, but didn’t attempt to remove the other one. Smart girl.
“How did you find me?”
“I’m a goddamn detective.”
“If you think…”
He waited.
“That you can burst in here without calling or texting me—”
“I did. Several dozen times in the last twenty-four hours. I was starting to get worried about you. So was Noelle. Check your phone.”
Her gorgeous blue eyes went wide. Her expression changed from challenging to contrite. Since his numerous calls had gone straight to voice mail and she hadn’t responded to half a dozen text messages, he figured she had probably turned it off. “Now do as I requested.”
“Ordered,” she countered.
He lifted a shoulder. “Semantics.”
Her chest rose and fell in shallow bursts. In coming here, unexpected, uninvited, he knew he’d scared the shit out of her, yet he couldn’t bring himself to be overly concerned.
“It’s been almost a week,” she said. “You could have called.”
He pulled out his phone with the shattered screen and tossed it on the bed next to her.
“Did you drop it?” she asked.
“Look again.” When she squinted at it, he said, “Turn it over.”
Her face drained of color. “It’s got a hole…”
“Yeah. It stopped a bullet.”
She put a hand on her throat. “Were you hurt?”
“Bruises. Nothing a couple of aspirin won’t take care of. We got the case wrapped up around five yesterday. The first fucking place I went was the cell phone store. Not the shower. Not my bed. Not to get a drink or food. To the phone store.” The idea of burying his dick deep in Jennifer’s wet pussy had kept him sane. The thought of flogging her had been a lifeline in the chaos. The memory of holding her while they’d talked had soothed the savageness of his emotions.
“That’s almost worse than getting shot,” she said, with a wry twist to her lips.
“Not by