Blind Seduction (Team Red)

by Hammond, T.

  “When I think of the stuff I said in those thirty minutes, I am simply mortified, Bas. It was bad enough I babbled on about my non-existent sex life, but, I also said some pretty explicit and personal things about the time I caught you in the kitchen with Sherry Dangerfield.”

  “Yeah, well, about that—” he started.

  I cut him off. “It’s not like I think about you and… and, that time. But, Janey mentioned you were coming to visit, so you were in the back of my mind already. When I was telling Cat about Janey, Ken, and sex, everything kind of spilled out of my mouth. Before I knew it, I was going on about how that monster dick of yours scared me so bad I had to get drunk so I could have sex my first time.”

  A hand brushed back the hair covering my face, and for the first time in memory, Bas touched me with deliberate kindness. He grasped me firmly by the shoulders and pulled me backward into his body as he relaxed against the couch cushions. He was gentle, but persistent, as he maneuvered me into a curled position with my legs over his lap and my face tucked into the curve of his neck. And he held me.

  Bas is a tall man, but his height isn't always the first thing people remark on. Bastian has been a fitness fanatic since he was in his teens. Janey tells me he is in the gym at least four times a week, and leaning into his body, I could tell he was as wide and ripped as I remembered. The chest under my cheek was rock-hard and well-defined. The arms around me were large and bulked with muscle. Add all this to his sun-streaked blond hair, piercing blue eyes, and beautiful face, and you have a man who women stop and stare at, simply for the pleasure of looking at someone so gorgeous.

  “Wow,” he remarked, “we are more fucked up than I thought.”

  “Don't swear in front of the dog,” I chided softly. “He's a lot like a two-year old. He repeats everything."

  “I will admit, I have to believe you about Red. He is scary-smart. I've never seen anything like how he reacts with you.”

  Bas let out a breath and it ruffled through my hair. “First,” he whispered against my ear, causing a slight shiver and a very inappropriate pearling of my nipples, “I am sorry for my behavior this morning.” Did he kiss my hair? I didn't dare ask; the thought was too weird.

  “Second, I promise, I will never hurt you in anger.” His head tilted in a way which gave the impression he was looking down, trying to see my face. “You DO know I would never hurt you or anything, right? Except for a slap on the ass between consenting adults, I've never struck a woman in my life.”

  “Ah, TMI.” I gulped, trying to divert my imagination from Bas in bed with a consenting adult sporting pink hand prints all over her butt. The imp in me thought it would make a hysterical pattern on a pair of pajama bottoms. On my imaginary PJ's, I would add “Spank Me” in big letters over one cheek.

  Setting aside my inner BDSM fashion designer, “I know you wouldn't hit me. It never crossed my mind.”

  “Then what's with the flinching? Geez, woman, do you have any idea what was going through my mind when you reacted to my touch like an abused wife? I'll admit I was hurt, and insulted you kept cringing from me.”

  “I am really out of my comfort zone here, Bastian; I need to go back a ways to explain this properly.” Deep breath in. Exhale. “How clear in your memory is the day I walked in on you having sex in the kitchen?”

  “It’s pretty crystal. I'd gotten my first two-week leave in months, and I hadn't been home in almost three years.” Bas tightened an arm around me. “It was the first time I'd seen you all grown up and I was buried balls-deep in another woman. There is an irony there you'll never understand,” he told me cryptically.

  Bas shifted slightly to tuck me more securely under his arm. “It was not the way I had planned on renewing our acquaintance. To make matters really complicated, from that point forward you managed to avoid me every time I was in Spokane. Although, I think I caught a glimpse of you once in the years afterward... I'm not positive it was you, but it may have been.”

  “Halloween? ‘Bout six years ago?” I felt his nod. “I wasn't sure if you'd seen me. I ducked into the closest department store and headed straight for the baby section. Every time I thought I saw you, Bas, I went right to infants. There were several occasions over the years, and I was positive you would never think to look for me there. I learned more about onesies, breast pumps, and crib safety features than half the clerks who worked those departments. As a great side benefit, I always had the best gifts at baby showers.”

  I heard the rumble of laughter in the chest under my cheek. “I must have hit every department that day, except babies and toddlers, looking for you. You are to be commended on a brilliant evasion technique. I'm only sorry you felt the need to implement one.”

  He sighed heavily into my hair. “I kicked myself, hard and repeatedly, after you saw me with Sherry. Called myself every name in the book for not showing restraint and waiting for what I really wanted.”

  His lips brushed over my forehead and kissed me softly at the hairline. “What I really wanted was you.”

  Chapter Twelve

  I stiffened in confusion, but Bas held me still, and pleaded into my ear, “Hear me out.” I made the effort to relax my muscles until I was lying pliant against his body again. “We’ve had a lot of communication problems over the last fifteen or sixteen years, and I want to get this out in the open, okay?”

  I nodded. What else could I do? This talk had diverted to a tangent I never imagined. Bastian wanted me? In what reality was that even an option?

  “I looked up one day when you were only fifteen and saw you. I mean, I really saw you,” he emphasized. “Not Janey's friend since kindergarten. Not the kid who came over every weekend 'cuz her adoptive parents had better things to do than raise their brainiac daughter. I saw the potential of you. Your long dark hair, chocolate eyes, and a sarcastic mouth which tilts up at one corner before it becomes a full-blown smile. I wanted your mouth in places I'm sure your mouth had never been. Damn, you were only fifteen.”

  Bas placed a finger under my chin and lifted my face. “I have thought of this mouth for years.” He kissed me. Sebastian Declan kissed me, and the kiss held a sweetness I hadn't realized he was capable of. My surprise was so complete, I didn't kiss him back.

  After tucking my face into his neck again, he sighed, no doubt disappointment over my lack of participation. But come on, we had never been friends. This revelation left me stunned, not stupid.

  “I asked for a transfer out of country,” he continued. “I was sent to the Middle East for three years. Not much opportunity for meeting women, or dating, over there. When I was back in the States, back in Spokane, you were eighteen by then, and I planned to look you up and finally do something about the hard-on I'd been carrying around for three years.

  “I'd gone out for a run that morning and bumped into Sherry while I was on my way back.”

  Unable to resist the wide open pun potential, I interrupted his story. “Bumped into her? Yes, that’s one description for it. Repeatedly bumped into her, as I remember it.” Our shared laughter over my teasing was a nice break in the tension.

  Bastian continued, more relaxed, “She and I had dated years before, so when she expressed an interest in—well let's call it what it was, a quick fuck—I thought it was a way to take the edge off until I could wine and dine you properly. I was an idiot.” He took a deep breath. “One minute I had my face in her hair, because her shampoo smelled like yours, then I looked up, and there you were.

  “Damn, I had no idea you were even in the house, but there you stood. You were wearing this transparent little top and a pair of white panties. Your long hair was messy around your shoulders and breasts; your eyes were heavy as if you'd just woken up. And god, that mouth, Teresa.” Bas' hand stroked over my head and he speared his fingers through my hair, gripping a handful in his fist. It wasn't painful, but he used the grip to control my head and firmly forced my face back up to his own.

  His breath washed over my face as he continued spe
aking, “All I saw at the time were those lips, soft and parted. I was thrown back to the moment, three years earlier, when I envisioned that mouth, and those lips, wrapped around me.”

  The kiss was more forceful. This time I wasn't taken unaware. His mouth was greedy. His tongue was bold and very thorough, alternating between spearing deep to curl with my tongue and backing away to lick at my lips. I felt devoured. Bas arched his hips and I became uncomfortably aware of the erection straining against the back of my thighs, still draped over his lap.

  No! No, I was not going there! I broke off the kiss, and yes, I was calling myself all kinds of stupid because I was really enjoying the sensations. But, I refused to be overcome by hormones like some regency romance novel ninny.

  “Wow, Bas. This is—was—wrong on too many levels to name.” I was still breathless, the taste of him warm and lingering on my lips. “I realize you are turned on by remembering me watching you, while you were boinking another woman, who you were imagining was me.” I paused for a moment, unsure if that made sense or not. “And, let's not forget the part about you professing an interest in me, but you screwed her to take the edge off? Do I understand the situation correctly? You intended to ask me out on a date, but you cheated on me before you could ask?”

  “I already admitted I was an idiot. The blood was all in the wrong head.” His grip on my hair eased, but I kept my face tilted upward. “Teresa, I was twenty-five, maybe twenty-six, who remembers anymore? I was young and stupid. But, there is one big thing here you're not taking into consideration.”

  Yeah, that's where my thoughts went too. But, who can blame them; the zipper of his jeans was under a lot of stress at the moment. I know what “big thing” I was considering, but decided it might be prudent to ask, in case his thoughts weren't in the gutter like mine were. “What?”

  “Fifteen years, Teresa. For fifteen friggin’ years every woman I've dated, screwed, or paid attention to, had your hair, or your eyes—none of them ever came close to having your mouth. Geez, even Sherry is superficially you: long dark hair, brown eyes, and same shampoo.

  “Every time I came back on leave, I looked for you. It was only a few years ago I realized your avoidance meant you were thinking about me, too, in order to elude capture.”

  Elude capture, huh? Military guys are so... military.

  “Yeah, about that.” And, now we were turning back to the conversation I wanted to avoid, but was trying to be grownup enough to discuss. “I asked you if you remembered that morning because it was a pivotal event for me.” I made a half-hearted attempt to squirm off his lap, but Bas held me still. With a resigned sigh, I relented, it wasn't like he was hurting me; he merely wasn't allowing me to hide from him. I could actually understand his stance. “It’s no surprise, I'm sure, I was probably the last eighteen year old virgin in North Spokane. Geez even Janey—”

  “Oh no,” he cut me off. “You will not discuss my sister's sex life with me.”

  “Okay, fine,” I snickered, and then continued. “I'm half-asleep, minding my own business, and I walk in on my best friend's brother having sex on the kitchen counter. Bas, you have to know you're way above average size—what, maybe two feet long? There are horse ranchers in the area who have never seen a penis that big.”

  Bastian gave a full-throated, hearty laugh which shook his whole body. I'm pretty sure he kissed my hair again. “Because, I'm a guy, and we have to measure everything, I can assure you I am a humble ten inches or so, not twenty-four. Yes, I realize I'm on the large side, I also know while it may be a snug fit,” his voice dropped to a wicked, suggestive growl, “every slow, thick inch WILL fit.”

  I blinked. I didn't know what to say to that.

  When in doubt, ignore it. And definitely don’t think about the Astro Glide sitting on the coffee table.

  “Bas, except for quick glimpses from afar, that image, in the kitchen nailing Sherry, is the last picture I have in my head of you. In my mind, you will always be staring at me with those fierce, wild eyes, your hand at her throat, with this over-large cock pounding her with so much force it looked painful, and scary. I will never be able to erase that moment and replace it with a different image. ”

  “Breathe,” he said quietly, in my hair after a few moments.

  I hadn't realized I was holding my breath until I exhaled.

  “That image, my first visual of a naked man and the sex act, haunted me for years. When I turned twenty-one, I finally decided enough was enough. I was tired of being intimidated, so I did the mature thing: I got drunk and slept with a guy from a college class right after finals. We went to his apartment, it lasted a glorious five or ten minutes, then he rolled over and passed out. I made my escape and spent the rest of the night barfing up an overabundance of cherry brandy. No, I didn’t appreciate the comedy in my choice until later.” I smiled, and somehow felt Bastian sharing the humor with me.

  “But the really pathetic part? I was so happy it was done. I'd finally had sex. Although, it was uncomfortable, it was not really painful, and I realized I had nothing to fear from sex—well, except for a poor performance review, but I didn't think he had any room to talk, so I wasn't sweating it.

  “The blame is mine. I let myself be intimidated by one aggressive image of you. Logically, I knew men's erections averaged around six or seven inches, not twenty-four.” I grinned and hit him with another pun, “I allowed myself to blow it all out of proportion.” A quick hug was a more than adequate reward.

  “A few years later, I hooked up with Devon. Nice enough guy. No fireworks, but good enough in bed I eventually grew to enjoy it. I even relaxed enough to start to feel adventurous. Of course, three months into the relationship I realized I wasn't the only girl he was sleeping with, so I dumped his ass. Or, maybe it was a mutual thing because of the fingernails and the scratches—boy was he pissed.”

  Bas picked up my hand and ran his thumb over my newly clipped and filed nails. I confirmed the guess he didn’t articulate, “Next time I sleep with some guy, he won't have to worry about scratches, the nails will be too short to do any harm.” I smiled, smug with my simple solution.

  Returning to the topic at hand, “When I was running my mouth off at Janey's apartment, I was only letting off steam. It’s been years since I've been intimate, and I was frustrated. At myself, mainly.”

  “Sleep with me,” Bas offered. Less than a heartbeat later, I felt a lurch from the beast straining his zipper. No doubt hoping this would be a democratic decision and thus his vote would count in favor of the idea.

  Chapter Thirteen

  I was shaking my head no, before I formed the words to explain myself. “There are a lot of reasons we shouldn't sleep together, the most important being you're Janey's brother. When we break up, or you get tired of me, I will still be Janey's friend. It’s been hard avoiding you when you were here for a few weeks at a time. It will be impossible if you live here 24/7 and I can no longer see you coming.”

  “We're not even dating and you have us breaking up?” he asked, clearly bewildered by my superior female logic.

  I was surprised he was delusional enough to think his interest would last longer than the attention span of a three-year old. It's one thing to cling to an obsession for fifteen years; it’s quite another to stay interested after you get what you’ve been coveting. That is assuming there is any truth to the story of his suspended courtship plans.

  “You said you wanted to sleep together. Who said anything about dating? You're a player, Bastian. I have heels higher than your standards. Why would I risk dating you when we both know you'll get bored and be on to the next girl before the semen dries on the sheets?” Crude, but I was pretty sure, accurate! “I have minimal experience with men or sex; I doubt I could hold your attention past the first blow job.” As a positive, since we’re being crude, this would mean the semen wouldn’t even hit the sheets.

  “I have no desire to attempt fitting all of you into any of me, Bas. Frankly, I only have your word you'd fit;
I’m not fully convinced it’s anatomically possible. I certainly don't think a two ounce bottle of lube would be enough to even make the attempt.” Ouch, even the idea hurt. “Not to mention you're an aggressive man. I am not looking for a partner who wants to overwhelm or consume me.”

  “You don't even want to give it a try?” he asked, quietly. “I'm not sure you really know what it is I want, Teresa.”

  Wow. How do I answer this and still retain some of the positive ground we created this morning? “For the past fifteen years, you have had this illusion of me in your mind. The truth is, Bas, we don't really know each other. I know you as a young and promiscuous young man. You may have had some type of epiphany fifteen years ago, but I didn't.

  “You want the fantasy of me you’ve built up in your head. That's not me. There's no way I can compete with years and years of whatever you've imagined in your mind. You know me as a teenager, Bastian. Maybe you've heard stuff about me from Janey over the last dozen years or so, but her stories still wouldn't give you any real idea of what type of person I am today.”