A Beautiful Sight

by Sandi Lynn

  “Let me take you home. My driver is already here.”

  “You have your own driver?”

  “Yes. His name is Harry. That way, I’ll know where you live for when I come over later.”

  “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

  We walked out of Shakespeare Garden and Harry was waiting for us with the limo door open.

  “Harry, I would like you to meet Aubrey Callahan.”

  “Hello, Aubrey.” He smiled as he held his hand out to her.

  Looking at him, I mouthed and pointed to my eye. “She’s blind.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, Harry.” She placed her hand in his and then slid into the backseat.

  Harry shot me a look and then shut the door after I climbed in.

  “We’re taking Miss Callahan home first and then I need to go to the office.”

  “Your address, Miss Callahan?” Harry asked.

  “200 East 82nd Street.”

  “You’re an upper East Sider, eh?”

  “Yes. I am. Where do you live?” she asked.

  “In a townhome on West 88th Street.”

  “Ah. So you’re an upper West Sider.” She grinned.

  “Do you live by yourself?” I asked out of curiosity.

  “Yes. But my Aunt Charlotte lives across the hall. She owns the building. She inherited it after my uncle passed away.”

  “How long have you lived there?”

  “About seven years. He passed away when I was eighteen.”

  “I’m sorry for your loss.”

  “Thank you.”

  Harry pulled up to the curb, climbed out, and opened the door for Aubrey, taking hold of her hand and helping her out.

  “Thank you, Harry.” She smiled.

  “Which apartment are you?” I asked.

  “Apartment 2B. I’ll let Kale, the doorman, know you’ll be arriving, say around seven o’clock?”

  “Seven is fine. I’ll see you then.”

  Harry shut the door and I watched out the window as Aubrey walked into her building. I couldn’t believe she was cooking dinner for me. I would have rather gone out, but she seemed excited about it. Maybe it was better we stayed in at her place tonight. I would probably have a better chance at fucking her there.

  “Really, Ethan?” Harry turned and shot me a look.

  “Really what?” I narrowed my eye at him.

  “A blind girl? What the hell is the matter with you? I knew something was up when you told me to drop you off at Shakespeare Garden.”

  “I happen to find her very attractive and she’s a nice girl.”

  “You, my friend, have just crossed the line as far as assholes go.”

  “Shut up and just drive.” I scowled.

  Chapter 6

  Aubrey

  As I was opening the door to my apartment, I heard Aunt Charlotte’s door across the hall open and she followed me inside.

  “How was reading time?” she asked.

  “I really didn’t get much reading done.”

  “Why not?”

  “Someone was there I knew and we ended up talking.”

  “Do I know this someone?” she asked.

  “No. I just met him last night at Penelope’s exhibition.”

  “Him?”

  “Yes. His name is Ethan Klein. Apparently, he wanted my phone number last night and asked Penelope for it. She wouldn’t give it to him but told him where I go on Saturday mornings.”

  “I’m sorry. Did you say Ethan Klein?” Her voice became serious.

  “Yes. Do you know him?”

  “Personally, no. I’ve heard of him. He’s a very ruthless businessman, Aubrey, and I think it’s best you stay away from him. He’s a womanizer on top of it and has a whole slew of women at his beck and call. I’ve heard the talk around the city.”

  “You heard talk? Talk is talk, Aunt Charlotte. I’ll decide for myself if I should stay away from him. In fact, he’s coming over for dinner tonight.”

  “What? Oh, Aubrey, please for the love of God listen to me. I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “Aunt Charlotte.” I sighed. “I’m twenty-five years old. I’m not a child. I can see who I want.”

  “I know that, dear, but I don’t want you getting hurt again.”

  “I can protect myself. Don’t worry about me.”

  “Well, I do. I can’t help it.” She walked over to me and grabbed my hand.

  “I’ll be fine. I promise.” I smiled.

  “What are you going to cook for dinner?” she asked.

  “Breaded chicken, baked potatoes, fresh green beans, and salad.”

  “Sounds good. Mind if I join you?”

  “Yes. Actually, I do mind.” I laughed.

  She kissed my forehead. “I’m going to go. If you need any help, call me.”

  “Thank you. I will.”

  I loved my Aunt Charlotte more than anyone in the world, but sometimes, she didn’t know how to stop treating me like a child.

  ****

  After returning home from the market down the street, I set the two bags of groceries down on the kitchen counter. When I pressed the button on my watch, it told me that it was five o’clock. I had just enough time to jump in the shower and then start prepping for dinner.

  I kept thinking about what my Aunt Charlotte said about Ethan. About him being a ruthless businessman and a womanizer. I could sense that, but there was something else I sensed. I sensed a side to him that he kept hidden away. A part of himself that he didn’t want anyone to know. That was why I agreed to go out with him.

  After my shower, I went into the kitchen and started to prepare dinner. Once the chicken and potatoes were in the oven, I gathered all the ingredients for the salad. As I was cutting up the lettuce, there was knock on the door. My belly did a little flip, knowing that he was on the other side.

  “Hello, Ethan.” I smiled as I opened the door.

  “Hello, Aubrey. Were you one hundred percent sure that it was me before opening the door? I didn’t hear you ask who it was.”

  “My watch told me that it was six fifty-nine and I told you to be here at seven. So, I was pretty confident it was you. Come on in.”

  ****

  Ethan

  She looked as beautiful as she did this morning in her long floral spaghetti-strap dress. The way her hair fell over shoulders with soft curls aroused me.

  “You look incredible, but I’m still concerned that you didn’t ask who was at the door.”

  She let out a light laugh. “I knew it was you. Trust me. But to put your mind at ease, I always ask.”

  “I hope so.”

  The apartment looked nice. Her living area had a light gray color on the walls that was accented with a dark gray couch, a couple of matching chairs, and a glass coffee table and end tables. The kitchen was on the small side with dark cabinets, a black granite countertop, and all stainless steel appliances. I suppose you could say that I was surprised at how nice it looked.

  “It smells good in here,” I spoke as I followed her into the kitchen.

  “I hope you like chicken.”

  “I do.”

  I stood there and watched as she cut up some cucumbers. I was getting overly nervous that she was going to cut herself.

  “Can I help you with anything?” I asked. “Maybe I can cut those cucumbers for you.”

  “Thanks, Ethan, but I got this. Am I making you nervous with this knife?”

  “Just a bit.” I chuckled.

  “Don’t worry. I cook all the time. I know what I’m doing. I was trained.”

  “Trained?”

  “After the accident, my aunt sent me to Lavelle Institute for the Blind. I learned to read braille and they taught me how to live independently. I’ve had many years of training. So don’t worry about me cutting up some cucumbers.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t—”

  “Don’t apologize, Ethan. You have nothing to be sorry for. I’ve accepted a long time ago the fact that I
make people a little uncomfortable. That’s how the world works. People think they have to be careful around me and they don’t. I’m just like everybody else. The only difference is I can’t see.”

  “And you’re probably a hell of a lot smarter than most people,” I spoke.

  “I don’t know about that.” She laughed.

  She finished making the salad and took the bowl over to the table.

  “Let me help with something.”

  “No. Just go sit down and relax. I’ve got this.”

  I sighed as I took a seat at the table and watched her pull the chicken from the oven. She inserted a thermometer in the middle and it read her the temperature.

  “Perfect,” she spoke as she took down two plates from the cupboard and placed a piece of chicken on each of them with a baked potato and green beans.

  She stood in front of the table, holding the plates, and she spoke, “Which seat are you sitting in? Twelve o’clock, three o’clock, six o’clock, or nine o’clock?”

  “Umm.”

  “Look at where I’m standing and pretend you’re a clock.”

  “Twelve o’clock.” I smiled.

  She walked over and set the plate down perfectly in front of me while setting hers at three o’clock.

  “Would you like some wine?” she asked.

  “I’d love some.”

  “Red or white?”

  “Whatever you’re having.”

  I sat there in amazement at how flawlessly she cooked and served dinner. She set my wine glass down in front of me and then took her seat.

  “What do you do all day?” I asked as I cut into my chicken.

  “I read and I tutor kids online during the summer for extra income.”

  “Tutor kids? Tutor them in what?”

  “English.”

  It was a good thing she couldn’t see the expression on my face because I was sure she’d be offended by it.

  “I don’t understand.”

  She gave me a small smile. “I’m a teacher. I teach English Lit over at Roosevelt High School.”

  “In Brooklyn?” I asked.

  “Yes.”

  “I—”

  “You don’t understand how a blind person could teach a class, right?”

  “No. Yes. I mean—”

  “It’s okay, Ethan. I get that same reaction from everyone. I graduated from NYU, did my student teaching at Roosevelt, and when I graduated, they offered me a job as a full-time teacher, teaching eleventh grade. Actually, I have to report to school on Monday to get things set up and school starts on Tuesday.”

  “How long have you been teaching?”

  “This will be my second year.” She carefully picked up her wine and took a sip.

  “Have you always wanted to be a teacher?”

  “Ever since I was ten years old. I wanted to help others like I was helped. I was a child when I lost my sight and it was the most difficult time of my life. Trying to adapt in a world of darkness was something I didn’t think I could do. But I did and I owed it all to my teachers at Lavell and my aunt and uncle. I could sense the gratification they got when they taught me something and I wanted to experience that.”

  “Why English Literature?”

  “I fell in love with it since I was first introduced to Shakespeare. For me, it was a new way of seeing the world; their world and the time in which it was written. When I read someone like Jane Austen or Ernest Hemingway, even Shakespeare, I am so absorbed in their writing and stories that I get lost and sometimes I forget I’m blind. If that makes sense.”

  I sat there and stared at her as a small smile crossed my face.

  “It does make sense. Roosevelt is a tough school. Not actually the school, but the kids. I’m really surprised you like teaching there.”

  “A lot of the students there come from broken homes and some of them are just there because they have no choice. But when they walk into my classroom, they walk into another world. They feel my passion and, after a while, they become passionate about it too. If I can help one student follow their dreams, then every day of teaching is worth it.”

  This woman was incredible as far as I was concerned, and the more we talked, the more intrigued I became about her. I desperately wanted to reach out and run my hand across her cheek because controlling myself in her presence was becoming difficult.

  Chapter 7

  Aubrey

  I got up from my chair and began to clear the table. I heard Ethan get up and follow me into the kitchen, open up the dishwasher, and place his plate inside it.

  “I can clean up,” I spoke.

  “And I can help. You cooked a wonderful meal for me and it’s the least I could do.”

  I wanted to know about him. About his life and about his business. We only talked about me during dinner and nothing about him.

  “Now that you know about me, what’s your story, Mr. Klein?”

  “Well, I grew up in Manhattan. I have a sister named Lila. I started my technology company when I was twenty-one years old and the rest is history.”

  “Come on. There’s more to you than that.” I smiled.

  “Not really. My parents sold my childhood home about six years ago and moved to Long Island.”

  “Your parents must be very proud of you.”

  “They are.”

  “So that’s all you’re going to say?” I asked.

  “That’s all there is.”

  I had this overwhelming desire to be close to him. If he were to ask me to have sex with him, I probably would. He was mysterious and I found that to be a turn-on. Maybe because I hadn’t had sex in centuries. Okay, not centuries, but it sure as hell felt like it. I needed to know what he looked like.

  “How tall are you?” I asked.

  “Six foot one,” he replied.

  “What color is your hair?”

  “Brown, and my eyes are green just like yours.”

  I followed his voice until I was sure I was standing in front of him. Reaching out, I took hold of his hand, placed his palm face up and ran my hand across it. I heard the sound of the sharp inhale he took. Bringing my hands to his face, I ran my fingers along his jawline. It was strong and masculine with light stubble. Tracing the shape of his lips, I felt the softness of them over my fingers. My thumbs traced his perfectly straight and narrow nose and then slid across to his high cheekbones. When I moved up to his eyes, he closed them. They felt perfect. An image formed in my mind of how I saw him. Sexy, hot, desirable. I ran my fingers through his hair. It was short all the way around. Almost shaved, but not quite. My hands clasped his shoulders and ran down his arms. They were strong and muscular.

  “You’re killing me, Aubrey,” he whispered in a soft voice.

  “I’m sorry. It’s the only way I can visualize what you look like.”

  I felt his hand on the side of my face and I was ready and all too eager for his lips to touch mine, but instead, he pulled his hand away.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” I heard his footsteps as he walked away.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

  In a mere second, he grabbed me and his tongue slid across my neck.

  “I want you, Aubrey. I’m sorry, but I do.”

  “I want you too.”

  His tongue glided along my neck as his hands reached behind and unzipped my dress. Sliding the straps off my shoulders, he let it fall to the ground and picked me up and carried me into the bedroom.

  ****

  Ethan

  I tried to control myself, but I couldn’t. There was more to her than I originally thought and I would end up hurting her. I unhooked her bra and tossed it to the side. Her breasts were round, perky, and beautiful, and her nipples were the perfect light pink color I knew they would be. Laying her down on the bed, my mouth devoured each breast and my teeth clamped around her hardened peaks. Her hands roamed through my hair as my tongue slid down her toned stomach. I needed to be inside her. Standing up, I stri
pped out of my clothes, tore the wrapper between my teeth, and rolled the condom over my hard cock. Reaching down, I gripped the sides of her beautiful white lace panties and slid them down. My fingers roamed up her thigh and dipped inside her. She was filled with warmth and my cock was screaming for attention. Her moans, as my finger explored her, heightened my excitement.

  “Are you enjoying this?” I asked with a mere whisper.

  “Yes,” she replied with bated breath.

  I hovered over her, my finger still inside, and took her breast in my mouth. She gasped when my thumb pressed against her clit. Her head tilted back and her moans reached their peak as her body tightened and she orgasmed. I couldn’t help but smile as I watched the expression on her face.

  She was ready for me and I was ready for her. Positioning myself perfectly over her, I thrust inside. She was tight and she felt so fucking good. A low rumble formed in my chest as I moved in and out of her.

  “You’re so tight. My God, you feel so good.”

  “Don’t stop, Ethan,” she panted as her nails dug into my back.

  “I don’t intend to, sweetheart.”

  I thrust harder and picked up the pace. Her legs were wrapped tightly around my waist as her hand reached up and softly touched my face. She was so damn beautiful and I couldn’t stop staring at her lips. So full and perfectly shaped. She let out another loud moan as she came. I thrust deep inside her one last time and strained as I pushed out every last drop of come I had inside me. I lowered myself and buried my face into the side of her neck. Our hearts were beating fast and our breathing was unsteady. We lay there for a moment until I pulled out of her and headed to the bathroom.

  When I returned to the bedroom, I found her sitting up and the sheet covering her naked body. I sat down on the edge of the bed and ran my finger along her jaw.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  “Yes. I’m fine.” She gave a small smile.

  “I suppose I should go.”

  “If you want to, but you can stay.”

  My fists clenched and, for the first time in nine years, I was torn with breaking one of my rules. Rules I didn’t dare break for my protection.

  “I have to be at the office early tomorrow. I have a lot of work to do before Monday morning.” The back of my hand swept over her cheek.