“Surprise.”
The way he said that one word—it sounded like a wicked treat. When he ordered her to close her eyes, when he offered the lure of a surprise, she felt as if she was seeing a new side to the man who had been a part of her life for so long.
Amy heard a door open, footsteps, and then the door closed again. Her body knew the moment he repositioned himself behind her. She fought the urge to lean back and press up against him.
“I want to thrill you.” His words rushed over her skin, sending a shiver of excitement coursing through her. Fingers, sure and determined, brushed her cheek. A second later a piece of fabric wrapped around her head, covering her eyes.
“Mark?” She lifted her fingers, exploring the cotton barrier as he tied it tight behind her head.
“I can take it off.” His hands pulled her arms down to her sides. Then, finally, he closed the gap, pressing up against her back. “If you want me to.”
“No.” She leaned into him, feeling the strong, hard planes of his body. “Not yet.”
“Pretend for tonight that you are with a stranger.” His words were clear and decisive. “Be wild. Don’t be afraid to take whatever you need.”
Her mind spun with the possibilities. The freedom to live out her fantasy, knowing she was safe.
Don’t be afraid...
Amy turned slowly, careful to keep contact with his body. She’d been plunged into darkness by the blindfold, and he was her anchor. Trailing her fingers up his arms to his neck, then to his face, she touched his lips.
“Kiss me.” Her hand moved over his jaw, attempting to draw him closer as her fingers ran through his hair.
Mark’s mouth claimed hers, his hands exploring, learning the shape of her body. There was no mistaking this kiss for a friendly gesture. Every touch, every taste, left her body on edge for more. His kiss exploded with passion, blowing away the walls surrounding her day-to-day life, showing her there could be so much more...
But only here, in the darkness, where she dared to be wild.
“Amy,” he growled against her lips, pulling back, offering her space to breathe and think.
She could feel him, tense with wanting, waiting for her to lead their friendship down this uncharted path, to reveal her fantasy.
“I’m not sure,” she said, hating the hesitation in her voice. Damn it, she wanted this.
Mark held her tight, his hands on her hips. His forehead rested against hers. “We can stop. Walk away now. But, Amy, I’m dying to see you move.”
He released her right hip, and she heard the rustle of his clothes. And then—music.
The slow rhythm of drums, building, growing stronger, picking up speed, but not out of control.
There were no vocals, just the pulsing beat blended with instruments.
“The quality is not great. I’m playing it on my phone.” She felt him move away, taking the music with him. “But will you dance?”
She followed the sound of his voice, turning and reaching for him. “You’ll join me?”
“Yes.”
His hand caught hers, drawing her close again. Since she was unable to see, her other senses came alive. Every touch was magnified. The drums sounded as if they were growing louder. Her hips moved, rocking to the beat. She raised her arms over her head, still holding his hand. She spun in a circle. Then her body found the pulse of the drums again. She moved freely with it.
“I must look—”
“So damn sexy,” he cut in, his voice low and rough.
“Oh.” Her movements slowed, her mind turning over those words. Sexy and sensual, living in the moment for the pure pleasure of it—that wasn’t her. But maybe just for tonight, here with him, lost in this fantasy world.
“Don’t stop.” It was spoken as a command, but with a hint of pleading.
“You said you would join me.” She found his chest, running her hands down over his rock-hard stomach, feeling the muscles she’d admired so many months ago through her computer screen. Grabbing a hold of his hips, she drew him near, demanding that he join her.
Widening his stance, capturing her leg between his as he held her close, Mark began to move. His body swayed in time with the music. Taking the lead, he guided her in a circle, maintaining contact always, his hands exploring, touching her lower back, traveling up to her waist, mapping her, but never losing the beat.
“You can dance,” she whispered, her body on fire.
“For you,” he said, his voice tight. “Yes.”
His words were like a drug—intoxicating, leading her down the path to wanting more. Allowing her core to brush up against his thigh, she felt herself growing wet with need. And she knew from the hardness brushing against her lower stomach that he felt it, too.
His hands found her breasts, and she arched, pressing her nipples against his palms. The drums sped up, growing louder, transforming from sensual to frantic. Amy felt her need growing with the music. She reached for the buttons of his flannel shirt. She released the first, ran her fingers down to the second as she continued to dance. Then the third and fourth, before she grew frustrated, pulling at his clothes.
Mark came to her rescue, removing his shirt. Her palms rested against his bare skin, feeling the dusting of hair. The music grew more frenzied as if pushing them forward. She found the button at the top of his jeans just as his hands tugged at her shirt.
Their movements matched the music as they stripped away clothes, each struggling to feel the other, but barely taking the time to explore before tearing off another layer until there was nothing between them—no barriers apart from her blindfold. The music peaked, the drumming reaching an impossible speed. And then it stopped.
Amy froze and reality descended. She stood naked and blindfolded, touching every inch of Mark’s body. There was no going back from this, not now.
But then the music interrupted, the track starting at the beginning, filling the space with an even rhythm. She knew now that it would grow and build until it exploded. Her pulse sped up. Excited. Ready.
As if he’d sensed her willingness to follow their dance to completion, Mark stepped back, holding her naked body close, taking her with him. He came to an abrupt halt, breaking free from the rhythm as he turned them around. Gently, he stepped into her, urging her back. She felt soft, cotton fabric against the back of her legs.
The bed. Amy stilled, her pulse the only part of her keeping time with the music. He guided her down, her body sinking into the feather bed covering the firm mattress beneath. Her legs hung over the edge.
“Mark?” she said, her voice barely audible over the music. Where was he? She couldn’t feel him. Her hands ran over the duvet cover, searching.
“I’m right here.” She felt the words against her ear. His legs brushed up against hers, and she felt him hovering over her.
His lips kissed her jaw, her neck, the slope of her breast, moving in time with the drums, dancing over her skin. He caught her breast in his mouth, his tongue swirling over her nipple. Pleasure ignited, rushing over her, through her. Part of her wanted to watch him, see the tension in his muscles as he held his torso above hers, licking and kissing his way down from her breasts, lower and lower...
But the blindfold offered the pretense of safety. This was a game, a fantasy—nothing more. It added an element of kink that turned her on, allowing her to imagine a gorgeous stranger worshipping her body, not a friend bound to the parts of her life she wished to set aside, at least for tonight. It reminded her that she was allowed this pleasure.
His hands touched her knees, drawing them apart. She didn’t need to see to know he’d lowered down to the floor, positioning his broad shoulders between her legs. Amy bit her lip, loving and hating the anticipation at the same time.
Fingers moved to her inner thighs. The drums raced forward, seemingly a step ahead of them. Amy lifted her hips off the mattress silently begging, her fingers clutching the comforter at her sides. His thumb brushed over her.
“I’m going to make you come,�
� he said as if she needed a warning, as if she wasn’t so far lost in her own need, she’d never find her way back without him.
His tongue ran over her, drawing forth a low moan. If he heard her, he didn’t offer any indication. The licking, sucking, the occasional nip of his teeth continued. She felt his finger at her entrance. He slipped inside, filling her. Teasing her with his mouth at the same time, he pushed her closer and closer, her body racing to meet the drums’ frantic pace. The music reached its pinnacle, taking her with it. The track ended leaving only her cries.
“Oh, God! Yes, yes, yes!”
Panting, her body humming from head to toe, she was vaguely aware of the music starting again. The bed shifted beside her, and she turned her head, knowing Mark was there by her side even though she couldn’t see him.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice soft and gentle.
“Hmm.” It was all she managed.
His fingers brushed her cheek, moving to the edge of the blindfold as if he wanted to peek beneath.
“No,” she said. His hand stopped, and then disappeared. “Not yet. We’re not done.”
And she wasn’t ready to open her eyes to reality. She wanted to stay here, surrounded by music, pleasure, lost in the dreamlike feel of this moment.
Amy rolled onto her side, facing Mark though she couldn’t see him. She reached out, her hand finding his arm. It was her turn to touch and explore, to drive him wild. She gave him a little push, silently directing him to lie on his back. Feeling her way, she slid her body over his, resting one knee on either side of his hips, trapping the hard length of him beneath her core. Hovering over him, sensing the tightly coiled tension coursing through him waiting to explode—she’d never felt this powerful.
“My turn,” she murmured. “To make you scream.”
* * *
AMY HAD BEEN part of his life for years, but he’d never seen her like this—naked and straddling his cock, her face flushed from coming against his mouth. It was the most erotic sight he’d ever witnessed. The way she licked her lips, pursing them together as she gently tilted her pelvis, increasing the pressure until he was close to exploding. Her breasts...
Mark groaned, reaching up to run his thumb over one nipple. She leaned into his touch, and it was all the encouragement he needed to reach his other hand up.
It was a damn good thing she’d kept the blindfold on, instead of letting him look under to see if she was all right. Without it, she’d realize that when he looked at her, his emotions surged. The desire to make her his rose up beside the need to please her. Making Amy happy—that had to come before everything else.
Staring up at her, he homed in on that need. He massaged her breasts, his hands working in time with the music, his focus on the soft sounds she made when he traced circles around her nipples or pinched them between his thumb and finger. The drumming grew frenzied, and the shallow movements of her hips followed. But when the song ended, she froze.
“More, I want more,” she said, her voice more demanding than pleading.
“Right there with you,” he ground out.
His hips thrust up into her, desperate for the friction. He needed to feel her soft body moving back and forth against him. The song started again. This time Amy lifted up slightly, her hand reaching for him, stroking him and positioning him at her entrance.
He knew this dance. But first...
Mark stilled her hips, holding her tight against the hard ridge of his cock. “I need a condom.”
“Oh,” she said, shifting off him and onto the bed. “Right.”
He felt the uninhibited woman who’d been riding him moments earlier slipping away. Mark scrambled to his rucksack, digging through it to find the ziplock bag holding his toothbrush, shampoo and—thank God—a condom. He tore the wrapper, quickly covering himself before heading back to the bed.
“Lie down,” he said softly, relieved to see her still wearing the blindfold. He had a feeling the minute she took it off, it was game over.
Amy obeyed, lowering herself slowly, feeling her way, careful not to hang off the edge. Mark covered her body, resting his weight on his elbows. She’d retreated too far. He wanted her mindless with pleasure, ready to ride straight into another orgasm, not thinking and wondering.
Lowering his lips to hers, he kissed her. Gently at first, pulling her back to that place where she wanted to move with abandon. He deepened the kiss and felt her hips rise up, greeting him.
“Mark, please,” she begged, her mouth moving against his. She reached between them, grabbing hold of him, positioning him between her splayed legs for a second time.
The last vestiges of logic slipped away as he thrust into her. He moved with the rhythm, not once losing the beat. Yes, he knew this dance. But with Amy beneath him, saying his name over and over—special didn’t begin to cover it.
The drumming became impossibly fast, nearing the end.
“Come with me,” she said.
He felt her tighten, her nails digging into his back as he exploded, the orgasm ripping through him, the feeling of this moment imprinting on his mind.
And then the song ended.
Mark rolled off her, lying by her side. Amy’s body touched his. He didn’t want to move, to break this moment.
Amy sat up, crossing her legs in front of her. His fingers brushed her thigh, his body still craving a physical connection as he watched her. She raised her arms up, her fingers pulling at the knot in the blindfold.
“Can I take this off now?”
“Of course.” He sat up, helping her undo the fabric.
Lowering the scarf he’d pulled from her hall closet down to her lap, she turned to him, blinking as her eyes adjusted. “Hi,” she said softly.
He brushed a strand of hair away from her face. “Hi.”
“What is this? The music?”
“Not sure what it’s called. I use it for running sprints.” Though he doubted he’d ever be able to hear it again without remembering her.
“That was quite a workout.” She slid off the bed and began pulling on her clothes. “Thank you.”
“You’re leaving?” Mark swung his legs over the edge of the bed. Every muscle in his body begged him to stop her, keep her here with him.
“I need to follow my rules, Mark.” She picked up his cell phone and held it out to him. “I know you said one night would never be enough, but it has to be.”
Mark took the phone, silencing the track. “I get it.”
He wanted to say to hell with the rules, but she was right. One night of comfort—a way for her to reclaim a lost part of her life—that’s all this was.
The door closed behind her, and he fought back the urge to go after her. Because knowing it was only one night didn’t change the unsettling sensation in his gut that what they’d shared was so much more.
11
AMY OPENED ONE EYE and stared at the Belgian Malinois sitting on his haunches, his tail thumping the ground.
She rolled to her side. “I’m getting up. I promise.”
Tossing back the covers, she sat up and stretched. Every inch of her body hummed with the memory of last night. She waited for guilt to descend. She’d made love to Darren’s best friend. Blindfolded. And she felt...happy.
Would he feel the same? Her fingers drummed on the sheets. She should talk to him before the madness of opening day began—
Woof! Woof!
“Okay, okay. You need to go out. I hear you.” She stood, stripping out of her pajamas and pulling on her work clothes. After she’d taken care of the dogs and finished setting up, she’d change into the red dress she’d ordered for today.
Downstairs, Amy opened the front door, letting Jango race past her to find a tree. Knowing he’d come around to the back, she headed for the kitchen. She found Mark leaning against the counter and eating fries from the to-go container he’d brought home last night.
She paused in the entryway. With the long-sleeved flannel thrown over a white T-shirt, the carg
o pants and work boots, he looked exactly the same. But now she knew what lay beneath his ordinary clothes. She knew how his skin felt. She knew how he moved.
A flood of wanting replaced her happy morning-after glow. Seeing Mark, she wished they could slip away and hide in her spare bedroom, blocking out the rest of the world with a blindfold and mind-numbing pleasure.
“Morning.” His smile was warm and welcoming, drawing her into the room.
“Cold fries, the breakfast of champions?” she teased, moving to the closet where she kept Jango’s food.
“Hey, I heated them up,” he said. “And it was this or dog food. Your cabinets are bare.”
“I haven’t had time for grocery shopping lately,” she said, scooping the food into the dog bowl.
“I’ll take you after the opening.”
He said the words as if his place was here, helping her, becoming a part of her life. Amy rose slowly. “Mark, about last night...”
His expression turned serious. “Rule number five. No regrets. Not between us.”
Relief washed over her. She didn’t want him to feel remorse for what had happened.
“I like that one,” she said softly. “And you don’t have to take me shopping.”
“You either let me or I tell Elizabeth Benton that the only thing in your cabinets was a box of cereal so stale I wouldn’t touch it.”
She pictured her well-intentioned mother-in-law checking her kitchen for food every few weeks. “You win. I’ll go.”
“And take this.” Mark held out the to-go container. “Eat. You’ll need your strength to face your two hundred guests.”
Amy groaned, closing her eyes. “Don’t remind me.”
“Hey,” he said, holding a fry to her lips. “You’ll get through this.”
She nodded, knowing he was right. She’d survive today. She didn’t have a choice.
Thirty minutes later, Amy was securing blue ribbon to the side of the building. Working beside her, T.J. unwound the spool as she ran her hand over the satin, pressing it flat. They rounded the corner heading for the front door, where Amy planned to hang a giant blue bow. In two hours, the first guests would arrive.
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