Initiation (Master Class, #1) - Sierra Cartwright Page 0,4
threatening to consume her.
As much as she wanted to have the courage to dial his number, she didn’t.
She dropped the card back into the pocket. Then she told herself that she’d run into him again in the future. If he offered to scene again, she’d accept his offer. She wouldn’t be a coward twice. After all, Noelle had said he was a good Dom. And that made him a safe choice.
A chill skated up her spine and caused a cold feeling to seep into her head.
There was no way Logan Powell—Master Logan—was safe, no matter what she told herself.
But that realization didn’t stop her from walking into her closet and taking her flogger from its hook.
She traced one of the strands. The leather was firm and thick.
For a frightening, dizzying second, she pictured the handle in Logan’s hand as he took a purposeful step toward her.
Chapter Two
Where the hell is everyone?
Logan checked his very expensive, very precise watch. Three minutes after seven. Noelle Montrose’s surprise birthday party was scheduled to begin in less than fifteen minutes, and he was still the only one here. He was starting to get pissed off.
Only for Joe and Noelle would Logan have left work early, driven up to unlock the house and put a bottle of champagne on ice.
The doorbell shattered the silence.
Finally.
Jarred from his annoyance and glad someone else was here, he answered the summons.
When he saw Jennifer Berklee standing on the stoop, hand raised to press the bell a second time, he had an instant attitude change. If Joe had mentioned that Jennifer had been invited, Logan wouldn’t have bitched at all.
“Logan.” Her voice was rushed, her eyes wide.
Until this moment, he hadn’t allowed himself to realize how disappointed he’d been that she hadn’t taken him up on his offer last month, and, more, that she hadn’t called him.
So the fact that it bothered him was an irritation.
She remained outside, mouth slightly parted, her breaths coming in quick little bursts.
Perhaps she’d thought about him as much as he’d thought about her.
“Come in.” He opened the door a bit farther and she entered the foyer, stamping a few snowflakes from her black ankle boots. Damn. They were just as hot, if not hotter, than the ones she’d worn the last time he’d seen her.
He reached above her to close out the howling, unfriendly wind.
For a moment, their gazes collided, but she shook her head.
“Is everyone else hiding?” She dragged a trembling hand through her short hair and restored order to the weather-tossed locks.
“I’m afraid it’s just you and me so far.”
She scowled. “I thought I was going to be late. Did I get the time wrong?”
“Joe told me to be here by six.” He’d probably figured that Logan would be half an hour late, which he had been. Fortunately, no one had been waiting and Logan had found the spare key affixed to the underside of a rain gutter. That had been fun in the dark and cold.
He took her oversize bag and placed it on the floor, wondering if she had any toys hidden in it.
Jennifer unfastened the belt around her waist, then removed her wool peacoat. He couldn’t stop thinking of the way her skin had felt when he’d helped her into it a few weeks ago.
She stood before him, ridiculously close since he hadn’t taken a polite step backward.
As he might have expected, she was dressed in a short leather skirt that highlighted her feminine curves. It was appropriate for a kink event—which he anticipated this evening’s party might become—but it wasn’t so scandalous that it would be whispered about at a vanilla gathering.
Her white turtleneck was another matter. It hugged her body, showing off her breasts and trim waist.
She’d completed the outfit with tights and those sexy boots.
His blood pressure spiked. “May I?” he asked, extending his hand.
“Thanks.” She gave him the coat and he placed it on a nearby peg.
“Let me just get Noelle’s present and my phone so I can take pictures of her when she gets here.”
Jennifer bent to unzip the bag, but the way she angled her body ensured he couldn’t see everything in there. She extracted a gift and handed it to him, then she grabbed her cell phone from a small purse before straightening.
“Where are we waiting?”
“In the kitchen.” He shrugged. “Unless you have a better idea?”
“I’m not good at the whole surprise thing,” she said, following him.
Joe had built the house with entertaining in mind. This part of the home featured an