BLIND: A Mastermind Novel (29 page)

“Whose touch are you imagining, Ms. Farrow?”

“Yours. Mr. Stone.
”
His name came out as a second thought, as if he were a lover holding her and she were pleading his name.

“Good Girl. Now drag your hand lower. You are not to touch your sex, but tease the skin closest to your clitoris with your fingers.”

Her belly filled with liquid heat as she trailed her fingers lower. Her knees remained closed, but her bottom lifted off the bed.

“Describe what you feel.”

“Soft hair.”

“Red,
”
he breathed the word, giving away a bit of the effect the conversation was having on him.

“Mmm, yes, red.”

“I bet you’re very pink there, Ms. Farrow.”

She moaned. “I wish you were here.”

“What would you want if I were there?”

“Your hands on me, your mouth, everything.”

There was a slight rustling over the line and she wondered if he was touching himself as well.

“Part your thighs for me, Ms. Farrow. Show me all those glistening pink folds.”

“Oh, God.
”
Her knees slowly parted and cream trickled from her sex.

“Take your finger and circle your opening. Do not penetrate yourself, just tease your outer layers and do not lay a finger on that clit.”

Her digit circled her sex and she moaned.

“Are you wet?”

“So wet. I’ve never been this wet.”

He groaned with appreciation. “Now sink your longest finger into that wet pussy and keep it there until I tell you to remove it.”

Her finger plunged deep and she arched, her shoulders digging into the bed as she let out a guttural moan. “Mr. Stone…”

“Is it hot?”

“Burning.”

“And wet. Swirl your finger around without withdrawing it.”

She did as he directed. Her body was so stimulated every slight motion caused her to twitch and moan.

“How close are you to climaxing, Ms. Farrow?”

“So close.”

“Remove your finger.”

She whimpered, but did as he instructed, immediately missing the presence of her little digit.

“Tell me what your fingers look like.”

“They’re wet and coated with my arousal.”

“I want you to take a picture of your hand with your phone. Later, when you look at it you’ll remember what I do to you. Do that now.”

Lifting her phone from her cheek, she trembled as she keyed in the command for her camera. She focused the lens and stilled. This was the raunchiest, hottest thing she’d ever done in her life.
Click
. She definitely wanted a keepsake. “Done.”

“Good girl. Now put that finger back in your pussy and fuck yourself to orgasm.”

She panted, literally panted as her finger plunged into her wet sex. Her moan filled the room as she rolled to her side. “May I touch my clit?”

He cleared his throat meaningfully.

“Please,
”
she amended.

“Touch everything, Scarlet. Those beautiful breasts, your strawberry nipples, your throbbing clit. I want to hear you come.”

She arched and carried on like a skilled harlot. Never before had she behaved so carnally, not alone, not with a lover, not ever. Only for Mr. Stone. “Mr. Stone. Oh, God. Oh, God!
”
Her cries turned into whimpers as her body rocked under the quickening pulse of her sex. “I’m coming—”

All sound disappeared as the most intense orgasm of her life ripped through her. Her spine tingled, sending shivers to her scalp, fingertips, and even the soles of her feet. Her fingers rubbed and pressed, prolonging the pleasure as her body continued to quake. As the waves slowly subsided, she squeezed her eyes shut and caught her breath. It was then she realized she wasn’t the only one with labored breathing.

Her face heated to a deep burn as she became aware of what she’d just done. Contemplating hanging up and hiding under the covers, she swallowed back her self-consciousness as Mr. Stone whispered, “Beautiful.”

Reassurance flooded her and she sighed, pressing her heated face into the pillow. Softly, she confessed, “I’ve never done that before—with someone else listening.”

“Well, I’m pleased you shared your first time with me.”

So many unspoken words wanting to be said rushed through her mind. She didn’t want to freak him out or scare him away, so she bit down on her lip, forcing herself to remain silent.

“Your wake up call is scheduled for tomorrow at six. I trust that’s enough time for you to get ready for work and have Pennyworth drive you in.”

No! She didn’t want him to go, but recognized he was preparing to say goodbye.

“Ms. Farrow?”

“Yes. That’s enough time.”

“Then I’ll wish you a goodnight. Sweet dreams, Scarlet. Eight encounters left.”

Her chest constricted as she grieved his withdrawal. “Goodnight, Mr. Stone.”

The line silenced and she felt him leave her, suffered his departure. Dropping the phone into the twisted blankets, she groaned. How could she get him to open up to her?

Chapter Twelve

“O”

“What do you think of the word pussy?”

Elliot looked up from his sandwich and dropped it into the paper wrapper. “There goes my lunch.”

“Because I said pussy?
”
Asher asked skeptically. “What would you like me to say, vulva?”

Elliot marched his lunch to the trash and dropped it in the bin. “I’d like to get through one day without having to discuss your personal life.
”
He left the room.

Asher glanced at Hunter and Jet. “What’s up his ass?”

Jet shrugged and continued devouring his meatball sub.

“He’s been in a mood since dance class,
”
Hunter mumbled.

Jet snorted. “He’s been in a mood since sophomore year.”

Shaking his head, he eyed the guys. “What do you think of the word pussy?”

Hunter shrugged. “Sort of demeaning.”

“I. Love. Pussy.
”
Jet hummed, sounding an awful lot like Bill Clinton.

“How is it demeaning? Other words sound silly.”

“I guess it depends what context you’re using it in. I mean, you aren’t offending me, but you clearly offended Elliot. I wouldn’t use it in front of a woman.”

Hunter’s opinion surprised him. “What if I already did?”

“Did she slap you?”

“Nope. She had an orgasm.”

Hunter stilled. “What?”

Jet chuckled. “Atta boy! Get some!”

Asher smiled, the reverberation of such a victory still astonishing him. “Yup. A real one. At least I think it was real. Either that or she should get an Academy Award.”

“Wait,
”
Hunter said, plopping his soda on the table. “You gave
Scarlet Farrow
an orgasm? How?”

He stretched back in his chair and grinned. “On the phone.”

“No way.
”
Hunter argued, now rapidly shaking his head. “She faked it. You can’t even give a girl an orgasm in person. There’s no way you did it without touching her.”

He brooded. “I can give a woman an orgasm in person.”

“Have you ever?
”
Hunter challenged, raising a dark brow.

“No, but I also never lit a building on fire. That doesn’t mean it’s outside of my ability.”

Hunter laughed. “Lighting a building on fire is a lot easier than lighting a woman on fire.”

“Man’s got a point,
”
Jet agreed.

“Well, I did it.
To
Scarlet Farrow.”

“Did what?
”
Elliot asked returning to the room.

“Ash gave her the big O.”

Elliot ruminated. “You gave Scarlet Farrow a character from Game Boy Advance?”

Hunter burst into peals of laughter and Asher crumpled the trash from his lunch and tossed it at him. “No, you one dimensional moron! I gave her an orgasm, not the freaking automaton from Super Robot War Destiny!”

He shrugged. “I’d rather have the action figure.”

Hunter’s laughter turned into a roar of hysterics.

“You’re so full of shit. Who wants toys when they could have orgasms?”

Elliot rolled his eyes. “I don’t know. Maybe someone not obsessed with sex.”

“Bet you’d give up a whole collection of action figures to watch Nadia come,
”
Jet said and Elliot scowled.

“Don’t…you shouldn’t talk about her like that.”

Wait. What? The side of Asher’s mouth kicked up. “You have a thing for the dance instructor?”

“No.”

Hunter and Jet simultaneously said, “Yes!”

Elliot’s face turned bright red. “Shut up. You’re all idiots.”

“Why don’t you ask her out?
”
Asher wondered.

Elliot scoffed. “Are you kidding? Have you seen her? Unlike you, I have no interest in baring all my flaws or fraternizing with women
way
out of my league.”

Asher shrugged. “Who says she’s out of your league? She could be interested. Steve says she’s really nice.”

“No, thank you. And do me a favor and keep your mouth shut. I don’t need her pitying me.
”
He stormed out of the room.

“He really needs to get laid,
”
Jet mumbled.

Asher’s lips twisted with disappointment. He hated seeing Elliot so down on himself.

“So how much longer are you gonna carry on this Mr. Stone bit?
”
Hunter asked.

He shrugged. “I promised her fourteen encounters, but I have months to follow through.”

“Why not just do it all at once?”

There was a lot Asher had learned in his research. Some universal truths he considered the ten commandments of women. “They always want what they can’t have. The longer I make her wait the more eager she is to have me.”

“That’s fucked up,
”
Hunter commented, but there was no missing the snort of laughter.

Jet crumpled up his wrapper and arced it across the room, sinking it into the trash bin. “I think you should just tell her it’s you and get on with the sex.”

“I’m not having sex with her.”

Both men looked at him, clear misunderstanding on their faces. Asher already decided sleeping with Scarlet Farrow would be very bad for both of them. He was there to seduce her, grant her everything she thought she’d never have, not give her something that might be a great letdown.

Knowing personal things, like how Bobby Westerman stole her virginity and fumbled the entire aftercare portion of such a fundamental moment, made Asher certain he shouldn’t have sex with her. If he did anything dishonorable it would cloud the whole purpose of their relationship, destroy the fantasy.

He wasn’t sure how it would end, if he would tell her who he was or keep it a secret forever—something beautiful that ended before it turned ugly. Maybe one day he’d strip the blindfold away and she’d beam and throw her arms around—wait. No. That wasn’t going to happen. He had to be careful, because his emotions were starting to confuse matters the more he came to care about her. He had to be realistic. There was only so much a man could pretend.

This was meant to be something she’d enjoy. His inexperience was too much of a risk and chancing any sexual let down on his part might ruin everything he’d worked toward. Glancing at his friends, he said with resoluteness, “No. I’m definitely not going to have sex with her.”

                                                                                    ****

Asher was so aggravated with his desire to call Scarlet just to hear her voice, that he denied himself the privilege of speaking to her for an entire week. The following Friday he started his morning with a demand that Steve push him harder than usual.

When they finished, Asher was dripping with sweat and guzzling one water bottle after another.

“I see a major difference,
”
Steve commented. “And I’m not just talking about your abs.”

Asher chucked the bottle in the recycling and mopped the sweat out of his eyes without comment.

“Are you going to see her tonight?”

He should. She was likely wondering where he was. Or maybe she wasn’t. “Yeah. Send flowers to her class and tell her to be ready at seven.”

Steve hesitated. “You aren’t going to write a note?”

The fucking notes. He grit his teeth. No matter how hard he tried to treat it as a liaison, part of him just wanted their relationship to be normal. He’d have to buckle down. No more delusions. No more pretending this was anything more than what it was. He had to keep his head and had to constantly remind himself this would eventually end.

There was fantasy and then there was reality. The more time that passed the closer he stepped to that uncomfortable threshold. “I’ll write it.”

The workday dragged and Asher’s mind was caught up in one distraction after another. By four o’clock, he accepted he wasn’t going to accomplish anything productive and researched some things online—sexuality to be more exact, but unsure where exactly one found the answers he needed.

The wisdom he sought wasn’t there. The Internet proved nothing but a pit of opinions, when what he needed was hard-core facts, guarantees. What made one source more knowledgeable than the last? He needed answers, advice, a guru of women that could teach him how to pleasure her.

Somehow he’d managed to gain her absolute compliance, and in doing so, something dark and needy was unleashed inside of him. He wanted to push her sexual appetites and push her hard, but he first needed to know how to satisfy her hunger.

“Shit.
”
He sat back in his chair and stared at the computer.

His dick throbbed in his pants as he replayed their last conversation. He wanted her naked and no matter how much that was rushing things, good judgment didn’t seem to intercede.

How could he get her naked? He could simply ask, but that seemed a little weak. Women didn’t just take off their clothes for strangers.

Frustrated, he closed his laptop and grabbed his keys. He was done for the day.

When he got home his body demanded a measure of self-control, so he headed for the shower. As the heated jets doused his sensitized skin, visions of Scarlet rushed through his mind. Eyes closed, he fisted his erection and breathed roughly through his teeth. His hand tugged as his lungs worked. Steam coated his body as his blood pumped hard.

Her eyes. Her soft body. The long line of her spine. The scent of her hair. The gentle rasp of her voice. He was so close. His mind devoured the memory of her breast in the blouse that practically showed her nipples. He wanted to see, taste and tease them, kiss, suck and mark them.

“Oh, God…” He stroked harder, bracing his arm on the damp tile wall. If only he could hear her say his name the way she whispered Mr. Stone. His imagination went wild, visions of her head tilting back, her throat elongating as her soft lips curved around those undisclosed syllables…
Asher.

A guttural moan left his chest as his balls drew up tight and pleasure shot through his spine. Come splashed against the tile as he hissed and panted, pressing his forehead to his arm.

His fantasies were changing, evolving, maturing, detailing every specific truth he now knew and hardly had to improvise. She was no longer just a beautiful fantasy. She was flesh and blood and he wanted her to be his. For years he’d been imagining the taste of her skin, but now he wanted to truly know.

He selected his clothing carefully, knowing she wouldn’t see him, but needing the boost of confidence. When he reached the mansion it was six. They had eight meetings left and though he feared the end, the intentional procrastination was growing tiresome. He was running out of ideas. Oh, he had plenty of things he wanted to do with her, but he had to maintain control and keep his eye on the prize.

After lighting the fires and choosing a bottle of red, he waited for Steve to arrive. Fuck, he was anxious. Their last encounter—actually hearing her come—triggered a dark animal inside of him he wasn’t prepared to unleash, a side of him so unfamiliar it shifted his bearings and planted seeds of great concern. What was happening to him? Desire, greater than he’d ever felt for her or any woman, was now an obstacle.