“Madeline and Charlie say hi.”
He burst into laughter, and she wanted to scream at him that it wasn’t funny. He laughed so hard that he choked on some of the popcorn that was in his mouth.
After he’d taken several drinks, he leaned toward her. “I’m really sorry I missed that. I bet you were as red as a strawberry. You busted your time limit.”
“You knew I’d run into someone, and there was no way I’d make it.”
“I did.” He put his hand on her thigh and slowly started to inch her skirt up.
“Logan,” she whispered as she batted at his hand. “We’re in public.”
“Don’t fight me,” he warned. His hand was still now. “Just spread your legs a little and don’t move.”
“That’s not going to be easy.”
“Nope.” He was inching the skirt up again. “Especially when you come.”
“Please don’t do this,” she said, glancing around. No one was paying them any attention, but she knew there was no way she would be able to sit still once his hand found its mark, and she was right. She wiggled in her seat and again asked him to stop as his finger dipped inside her slit.
“What if I leave a stain on the seat, or worse yet my skirt. Please, don’t do this.”
“Stand up,” he told her. She did as he asked, keeping bent over so she didn’t distract the people behind them. But as she watched him place his denim jacket on her seat, she looked behind and saw there was no one there. There were only about three rows behind them, and the crowd had seated themselves forward. It was light for a Tuesday night, and she was happy for that.
“Sit back down.” She felt a little better knowing there wasn’t anyone behind them. After she’d sat back down she looked up. She’d done a story one time about theaters. One of the things she’d learned was how the person working the projection booth could look down and see what was happening in the seats.
The worker, a man in his sixties, had told her about watching the audience from time to time, and how he would see people necking. Sometimes they got carried away, and he would radio down for an usher to put a stop to things. How would that usher feel, she wondered, if he were dispatched to their row, only to find the police lieutenant with his hand between the newspaper editor’s outstretched thighs?
“Logan,” she whispered. “We’re in—”
“Not one more word,” he responded. “Just sit there.”
He’d found her pussy, his fingers sliding into her folds easily, since she was as wet as a river. At this rate, his jacket would be soaked in seconds flat. It was only fair to warn him.
“Logan,” she said urgently.
His finger passed up and down her inner folds. “You can’t follow directions, can you? I said, not one more word. Now be quiet, or face the consequences.”
He continued to stroke her, and Evelyn’s orgasm started to build. It started slowly, working its way to the tight bundle of nerves that Logan would circle with his finger, but not actually touch.
She was almost there, and she wanted to beg him to pinch her and damn the consequences if she made noise, and people figured out what they were doing.
But then he stopped, so abruptly that she gasped. In front of them, someone murmured, “Shush,” and Evelyn clamped her mouth shut until the danger had passed. She was coming back down, and she was thoroughly unsatisfied. What she should be is happy, because now they wouldn’t be discovered with their pants down…or off, period.
She centered her gaze on the chair in front of her as she fought to keep hold of herself. When she was sure she was in the driver’s seat again, she looked back at the screen. She hadn’t watched enough of the film to know what was happening, and she was pretty sure Logan didn’t know either. But he acted as if it were the best movie he’d ever seen—for about fifteen minutes.
That was when he turned in his seat and put his hand between her legs again.
Please, please let him get me off this time. I swear I’ll be quiet and good. I want to come.
But he didn’t. He stroked her just like he had the last time, his touch light enough to bring her just to the edge. Once again she was almost there when he pulled his hand away, wiping his fingers on a napkin.
Evelyn was proud that she didn’t cry out, didn’t beg for more. When he patted her leg and said, “Good girl,” she wanted to yell at him not to patronize her. She might be a sub, but she wasn’t a dog to be rewarded if she did something right. It reminded her of Carl, of his words at the end of their relationship.
“You belong to me, and you have no rights. I’ll let you know when you do good or bad. That’s what you live for, nothing else.”
Anger shot through her, and she pushed Logan’s hand away. She lowered her skirt and crossed her legs.
He didn’t say anything. Instead, he leaned forward, putting his elbows on his knees. Then he turned to look at her. In the darkness she couldn’t quite make out his expression, but she could tell from his posture that he wasn’t angry, just curious.
He studied her for a few moments, but Evelyn kept her gaze on the screen. He settled back in his seat, and they watched the movie. When it was over, they ran the gauntlet that came from doing something in a small town. It was never an in-and-out situation. People went out to be seen and to gossip. The audience gathered in the lobby to discuss the film and to talk about ongoing events.
Everyone they ran into asked about the break-in at the mayor’s house, and Logan assured them it was a one-time thing. He stressed that no one had been injured. For certain, there had been a great deal of property damage, but even the mayor’s pets had been left alone.
“We’ll find who did it,” he told a group of older women, all of them widows who lived on their own. “Don’t you worry about anything, and if you get frightened one night, you give us a call at the station, and we’ll come check things out.”
It put a smile on Evelyn’s face and made her regret the way she’d let two words remind her of something so bad, and influence the way she acted.
When they were in his truck, she cleared her throat. “I’m sorry. You’re probably mad at me.”
He hadn’t started the vehicle. He turned in his seat, and she shifted her gaze to him.
“I’m not mad, Inky, just confused. You were playful earlier. You didn’t want to do it, but you followed my directions and you had fun. And then you shut down. Why?”
“Should I make something up, or tell you the truth and risk that you’ll get pissed?”
He narrowed his eyes just a little. “Always tell me the truth, no matter the consequences. That’s my number-one rule. Without the truth there can be no trust. We haven’t had that conversation, which is a bad thing. We sort of dived in headfirst. We need to sit down and chat. But first I want to hear why you pulled away when you were having so much fun.”
“Well, the fake story would be that I didn’t want to get caught.” Evelyn took a deep breath and told him the real reason she’d pushed away his hand.
Silence filled the cab of the truck. It was Logan who broke it. “You carry a lot of anger toward that man.”
“He made me feel about two inches tall,” she said. “He was always telling me how fat I was, how I didn’t please him.” Now that she’d started, she couldn’t stop. “And it started good. I was a sub, and we were having fun. And then all of a sudden I was a slave with no rights. He gave me no choice in anything.”
“That’s not going to happen with me, Inky. I promise you.”
She knew from years of working with him on stories that he always told her the truth, and she had no reason to believe he wouldn’t do so now.
“Look at me,” he ordered.
Even though it was dark, light from a nearby lamp illuminated the cab. She could see his face. His gaze was serious, his mouth in a thin line.
“You will never be a slave to me, Evelyn.” She loved that he’d used her real name. “What I expect from this relationship is a Dom/sub pairing. I will lead; you will follow, but you have the choice to not participate. You will never lose your rights with me. I will try to push you, true, but I don’t expect you to be a doormat.”
He’d used that expression before.
“We need to set a safe word. You know the rules there. Utter that word and everything stops.”
She wanted to tell him that Carl had told her that, then gone back on his word. But Logan wasn’t Carl.
“Doormat,” she said, returning his serious look.
“Safe, sane, and consensual,” he said. “I don’t do slavery.”
“Thank you for that,” she whispered. She jumped when there was a rap at the driver’s-side window.
Logan rolled it down. “Evening, Officer Riley.”
“Evening, Lieutenant.” The young officer looked past him. “Evie.”
“Josh.” She waved at him.
“The chief asked me to check the parking lot to make sure everything was okay,” Josh said. “I just wanted to say hi before I left.”
You just wanted to see if we were necking
. “We’re fine,” she responded. “Just chatting.”
“We’re trying to figure out the best place to go parking,” Logan said. “I’m a bit out of practice at this sort of thing. Got any suggestions?”
“Logan!” She swatted his thigh.
Josh was laughing. When he stopped, he said, “It’s a school night. That means the lake area is probably empty.”
“Thanks, Josh.” Logan started the truck. “By the way, got any spare condoms on you?”
Evelyn buried her face in her hands and screamed. She looked out the other window so she didn’t have to listen to the two men chuckle, and see if Josh actually did give Logan a condom.
“I can’t believe you just did that to me,” she said.
“Evie, you have this idea that people think I came to your house to have tea. The townspeople know we’re fucking.”
“You haven’t fucked me yet,” she shot back.
“I fucked your mouth,” he reminded her. Her nipples hardened. Yes, he had, and it had been damn good. “Right now, we’re going to the lake, and I’m going to bend you over the bed of the truck and screw you until you scream.”
Evelyn’s mouth dropped open a little. “It’s thirty degrees outside. I have a nice, warm house we can go to.”
“Inky, by the time I’m done with you, we’ll both be sweating.”
Chapter Four
When they reached the lake, it became obvious to Evelyn that coming here had been part of Logan’s plan all along. He crossed to an area not open to the public that was shut off by a gate. He pointed a clicker at it, and the metal swung open.
“Magic,” he said when she asked how he’d come by the device. That wasn’t true. It just meant there was one more person who knew she would be out here getting fucked tonight.
She needed to come to terms with that issue. It was as Logan said: the whole town knew they were screwing.
Logan drove up a steep road and parked by a few picnic tables. Evelyn knew this was land saved for use by the park rangers and their families, mostly because of the steep trails that led to shafts used by miners in the past. Too many people had gone looking for gold in those caverns and gotten lost, or had to be carried out after suffering from dehydration when they forgot to bring water along, or from falling on the rocks. So they’d blocked off the main road and put up barriers to the restricted area. Some people went past them, but it was harder for them to do so.
He put the truck in park and turned it off.
“When you get out, take off your clothes,” he said.
Evelyn wanted to repeat her objection about the cold, but she decided against it. She would follow his lead and hope she didn’t freeze to death before the friction between their bodies warmed her up.
Once outside she stripped quickly. When she was naked, she bounced up and down on her toes in an effort to stave off the chill. Logan came up behind her and wrapped a thin piece of material around her middle. It hit just under the swell of her boobs.
“Hold it right under your boobs,” he ordered. She did, fingering the fabric. It felt like silk, the type used in fashion scarves. “I’m going to decorate you with some rope to keep this in place. Just follow my lead and lift your arms when I ask you to.”
“Yes, Sir Logan,” she said, forgetting about the frigid temperatures. He was right about making her sweat, because she was sure she would be dripping by the time he was done with her.
It didn’t take him long to secure the outfit. She wasn’t sure what type of rope he used, but he wrapped it around her waist, under her breasts, and over her shoulders. It was heavy, and it felt like heaven.
“Put your hands in front of you, Inky.” She let go of her new outfit and held her arms together. He surprised her when he pulled his handcuffs from his pocket and snapped them around her wrists. Then he attached a leash to them.
“Let’s go.” He started off on a trail that ran between the picnic benches. Evelyn was breathing hard—a mixture of exertion from the incline and the eagerness that raced through her. Her pussy was soaking wet, and she was dripping sweat from her forehead by the time the path led them to a clearing.
She stopped and stared at the opening. In the moonlight she could make out a hitching rail, used to tie up horses in the past. Over the years it had been replaced, and was now used by rangers when they had to take horses into this part of the park. Right now it bore a sign that warned everyone that they were trespassing and in danger of arrest, incarceration, and a fine if they didn’t turn around immediately.
Logan led her to the center of it. She noticed ropes that had been attached to either leg of the railing. At the end of the ropes were leather cuffs. It confirmed what she’d thought earlier. He’d planned on visiting here tonight.
Logan was silent as he undid the steel cuffs. While he bound each of her wrists with the leather, Evelyn realized she hadn’t even considered how cold she was, or the possibility that someone could be nearby, watching the show.
The ropes kept her tight against the hitching rail. A blanket had been secured over the railing, and it pressed against her skin as she shifted from foot to foot.
“I didn’t want you to get any splinters,” he said in her ear. “You look delicious, Inky. I can’t wait to fuck you.”
“Thank you, Sir Logan.”
He wrapped his arms around her and cupped her breasts.