Blind Girl: A Dark Billionaire Romance

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Blind Girl: A Dark Billionaire Romance Page 2

by Kiss, Tabatha


  “Gabby…” I mutter at her.

  “No,” he answers her, smirking. “Some are billionaires. Like me.”

  Her eyes dance around the room. She can’t contain her excitement any more than I can hide my disgust.

  “Why are they blindfolded?” I ask.

  He steps closer to the cage and I follow him without thinking. “Have you ever been blindfolded?” He questions me as he reaches between the bars. His fingers glide along the girl’s thigh. She twitches at his touch and her blonde hair slides over her shoulders as she jerks her head in his direction. He continues his trek along her milky skin and she coos in excitement, her body shaking.

  “No,” I answer truthfully.

  “There are great pleasures to be found everywhere in this world…” He continues to admire the girl in the cage. “But the best of them can be found in the most unexpected of ways… when you’re completely in the dark.” He withdraws his hand but keeps his eyes on the girl’s face as she contorts with desire.

  “Wouldn’t that be more frightening than sexy?” I ask.

  He looks down at me with amusement. “Some people like to be scared,” he replies. “Don’t you?”

  “No.”

  “Well…” He takes a sip of his drink. “I guess this will all boil down to that old saying of ‘don’t knock it ‘til you try it.’”

  I tear my eyes away from him and turn to look at Gabby. My heart skips. She’s gone.

  “Gabby?” My eyes dart in all directions. “Where did she go?” I ask him, thinking that he may have seen her walk away.

  “What’s your name?” he asks me, ignoring my question.

  I shake my head. “Gabby?” I call again.

  “What’s your name?” he repeats.

  “It’s Alice,” I say, panic rising in my breast. “Where’s Gabby?”

  “She went to have some fun.” He reaches down and places a hand on my wrist. “Maybe you should, too.”

  I pull my arm away. “I have to find her.” I break free of him and attempt to navigate the crowd alone. It’s a room full of men. It shouldn’t be too difficult to locate one girl.

  After a minute of searching, I let out a deep sigh.

  “Alice…”

  My body reacts to his voice with a chill that bleeds down my spine, teasing me to lose control. I long to hear him say it again, relishing in the way he keeps it on his tongue for longer than necessary.

  I squint up at him to find his green eyes bearing down on me from nearly a foot higher. Once he has my eyes, he gestures behind me and points my attentions higher than the floor.

  “Gabby!” I shout.

  She stands in the center of a cage at the far side of the room. Her short, black dress has vanished, leaving behind nothing but her strapless bra and panties. I rush over to her, searching the floor around the cage for her dress, which is nowhere to be found.

  Her eyes are lost by a blindfold, deep red in color.

  “What are you doing?!” I say. “Get out of there!”

  “No,” she laughs.

  “We’re going home. Now.”

  “If you want to take me home with you, put your name in my bowl!” she jokes, giggling to herself.

  “This isn’t funny, Gabby. You have no idea who any of these people are.”

  “I’ll be fine,” she growls. “Don’t worry. Go have some fun of your own. For once.”

  I step back, pierced by the bite of her tongue. “Fine,” I say. I snatch a pen off the pedestal in front of her and scribble my name on a piece of paper to toss into her empty bowl. It settles to the bottom, immediately eclipsed by many other men who have gathered to do the same.

  “She’s right, you know.” I turn to find the green eyed man hovering above my shoulder. “She’ll be fine,” he says with a calming tone.

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because this is a very professional group of people.” He leans in closer with serious eyes. “We don’t mess around here. Either there are two consensual adults involved or nothing happens.”

  “That’s very reassuring,” I mutter with bite. Terror clouds my mind as I watch the men surround her cage. Hands push through the bars, fondling her breasts and legs. My skin crawls, but I can’t bring myself to look away from the spectacle.

  “Do me a favor.”

  “No,” I snap at him.

  “Please, Alice.” He charms me with a whisper, laying his hands just below my shoulders and guiding me to turn away from the cage. “Humor me for a moment.”

  “What do you want?” I stare at him with shaking vision. Blood rushes through my veins, igniting the thrill of my pounding heart.

  He steps in closer. His hands inch up my shoulders, crawling closer to my neck. “Close your eyes,” he whispers.

  I’m too defeated to argue with him and I do as he asks of me. I let the darkness fill my mind, pushing all of my focus towards the sound of his voice.

  “Imagine you’re inside one of these cages,” he whispers. “You’re nearly naked. Exposed, but warm. Darkness fills the space around you, closing in on you. But inside that darkness lies a mystery. There’s one guiding light, Alice — and only one — that you can put your complete trust in.”

  “And what’s that?” I ask, clinging to his every word.

  “Me.”

  I open my eyes and he smiles down at me.

  “I’ll be there to show you the way when you cannot see it. To teach you when you don’t know what to do. To lead you when you lose your way. And you’ll enjoy every moment of it. I guarantee it.”

  His seduction overwhelms me, leaving me mute, but consciously aware of his roaming touch. His fingers crawl down my arms like spiders until finally resting along the curve of my waist.

  “Leave Gabby be,” he urges. “She’s made her choice. Now it’s time for you to make yours.”

  I can’t look away from him, no matter how hard I try.

  “Come upstairs with me, Alice,” he whispers. “I’ll show you what I mean.”

  I nod my head.

  “Good girl.” He takes my hand and leads me across the room, back to the exit. “You can call me Charles.”

  I don’t look back at Gabby once.

  Chapter 2

  Don’t Do That, Alice

  “Sit down.”

  Charles points to the edge of the bed. I follow his instructions silently and sit down, happy to get a break from the unfamiliar shoes strapped tightly to my ankles.

  I study the hotel room. It’s a large and beautiful suite on the twelfth floor with a king-sized bed and ornate, hand-carved, wooden furniture to match. I spy a jacuzzi tub through the bathroom door. When I glance out the window behind me, I’m met with a view I’ve only ever dreamed of witnessing.

  “Are you all right?”

  Charles stares at me with an amused grin, standing above a golden drink cart next to the door. He drops an ice cube into a glass, which clinks around as he fills it with bourbon. He moves in to join me with his glass in one hand and another glass of champagne in the other.

  “Yes,” I say, unconvincingly. I’m not doing a good job of hiding the fact that I don’t belong in this world. He hands me the champagne and I immediately take my first sip of it. The bubbles tingle along my tongue and my throat twitches as I force it down.

  “You’re a very beautiful young woman, Alice,” he says.

  I feel the blood rush to my cheeks. I try to think of something witty to reply with, but I stumble over my tongue instead. “Thank you,” I manage to whisper.

  “I feel like a very lucky man,” he says, “to have found you down in that lobby tonight.”

  “Is that right?” I ask. The bubbles begin to work their magic and my tongue loosens. I feel a surge of confidence, even with my knees shaking together.

  “Yes,” he says. “Almost as if it were… meant to be.”

  “You don’t believe in coincidences?” I ask.

  “Sure I do.” He smiles. “But not tonight.”


  “What’s so special about tonight?”

  He splits his lips and I see the tip of his tongue glisten between his teeth. “It’s Blind Girl Party night,” he explains. “Tonight is fate’s night.”

  He leans in closer, so close I can feel the warmth of his breath on my lips. I recoil as my thoughts overcome the bubble-fueled urges pulling me towards him.

  “I— I can’t. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be here.” I push the champagne glass into his hand and stand up from the bed. As I move to make my exit, I grab my handbag off the chair near the door.

  “Alice, are you a virgin?”

  I stop dead in my tracks. “Excuse me?” I spit.

  Charles licks his lips and stands. He glides over to the drink cart to set the glasses down, then turns on me. “You have nothing to be scared of, Alice,” he says.

  “I’m not scared.”

  “Then why are you running away?”

  “I’m not running away,” I defend. “I’m just… confused.”

  “About what?” he asks. He tilts his head, regarding me with sheer calmness. “I’ll say I’ve made my intentions very clear. Have I not?”

  “Yes — you have, but…” My tongue ties and I run out of things to say. I let my voice dangle in the air before tumbling to the floor.

  “I want to make you a promise,” he says, sliding his hands into his pockets. “Will you let me?”

  I breathe a laugh, shaking my head. “Sure,” I say. How unique, I think. To ask my permission to make a promise.

  He reaches out to me with one hand and holds it still while he waits patiently for me to take it. His fingers are warm, strong, and steady as rocks.

  “Alice,” he growls irresistibly. “I promise you that tonight you will not be harmed. Your friend, Gabby, will not be harmed. Each and every thing that happens here in this room will happen because you want it to and for no other reason. You are in complete control. That is my promise to you.”

  I take a deep breath and feel it bounce its way through my lungs. “Okay,” I say.

  “Do you trust me?”

  “Yes.” The word flows through my lips without hesitation.

  “Good.” He drops my hand. It falls quickly to my side. “Get back on the bed.”

  A tremor rocks my knees. “What?” The sudden forcefulness of his tone startles me.

  “I said, get back on the bed.”

  “But I thought I was in complete control,” I quote his words back to him.

  “You are,” he shrugs. His fingers reach for his suit jacket. He flicks the first button free. “Alice, if you wanted to leave, you would have left by now. Since you have not, I can safely assume you want to be here. Correct?”

  “I guess so,” I say, following his logic. He plays me with his words, toying with me with ease.

  “And we’ve established that you are, in fact, a virgin. Is this also correct?” Another button slips free.

  I pause. “Yes.”

  He sits on the bed and reaches for his shoe laces. “Alice…” he begins, “I believe in honesty more than anything. Perhaps, even more than I believe in consent. You are not the first virgin I’ve had in my bed, nor will you be the last. Virgins are among my favorite to seduce, do you know why?”

  I place my handbag back down onto the chair. “Why?” I ask.

  “Many men will tell you that it’s the innocence that drives them,” he says as he slides one shoe beneath the bed skirt. “Or that they don’t have to try so hard because — hey, she’s just a virgin, she doesn’t know the difference between good sex and bad sex — but for me, why I enjoy it… I do it to feel the power.”

  “What kind of power?” I ask.

  He slides the second shoe next to its match before continuing. “When you deflower a virgin, you are inside of her forever. You never really leave her womb, no matter how many years have passed. Sure, she’ll remember her second and third and even fourth lover, but the first… that’s the one that changes her. The one that sets the tone for the rest of her sexual life.” He climbs to his feet and stares down at me. “I like to be that man, Alice. And, if you’ll let me, I want to be that man for you.”

  “Sounds like a bunch of bullshit to me,” I say.

  He smiles. “You’re free to leave at any time, Alice. I just hope you don’t.”

  My nerves shake. Blood pumps through my body faster than it ever has before. His words intoxicate me, lulling me into a feeling of pure security. I feel safe with him. I feel desired and loved. And incredibly foolish.

  I think of my mother and what she would have me do. She was foolish once, too, on a night that resulted in my own conception. Sixteen and pregnant, she vowed off the comfort of men and expected the same of me. At least, until I was afforded every opportunity she never had. Her voice chimes in my ears, urging me to turn around. Grab your purse. Get Gabby. Go home. Never turn back.

  I ignore the voice in my head and step towards him, allowing my feet to slide free of my shoes with each step. I kick them to the side and let my toes wiggle free amongst the soft carpet fibers.

  Charles continues smiling, his eyes locked on mine. He has me and he knows it. My body throbs, more than it ever has. I’ve been turned on before, but not like this. Never like this. This was something different, something better. I stare up at him, his green eyes searching my own, looking for my very soul to corrupt and play with.

  I like it.

  His hands fall upon my face and he tilts my chin upwards gently with cool palms. I push up onto my toes, closing the gap between our lips and close my eyes as his warmth envelopes my own. He plants a kiss upon my lips, slow and precise, one that makes me tremble. I return his kiss, my lips buzzing at the new sensation.

  “Lie down on the bed,” he whispers.

  I nod as my blood pounds between my ears. My eyes twitch towards the door. This is it, I think. The point of no return. If I wanted to, I could turn around and leave with my innocence right now. He’d probably nod his head disappointingly but step out of the way to allow it.

  He pauses, his hands drifting down to squeeze my shoulders once more. “Are you sure you want this, Alice?” he asks, reading my mind.

  I force a small smile to try and appear more adult and experienced, but I fool neither of us. I’m fucking terrified. Every burst of air in my lungs ignites a fire within me, the chills of fear sparking the flames.

  “Yes,” I breathe.

  Charles smiles, a victorious man.

  I move in closer to the bed and sit down as he continues to undress in front of me. I hesitate to watch, but I can’t look away. His garments fall to the floor, revealing more and more of his skin with each layer he casts off. I try to determine his age and think he must be in his thirties. He’s fit and strong, with muscles dominating the space beneath the skin on his arms, abdominals, and legs. His black hair, which sat perfectly styled for most of the evening, now begins to lose its shape as strands fall down to his vibrant green eyes.

  I reach behind my back to grip the top of my zipper.

  “Stop,” he commands me. “I will do that.”

  He pauses for a moment, his eyes flicking down my body as I set my shaking hands back down onto the bedspread.

  “You are so beautiful,” he says.

  I feel my cheeks turn red once more. “Thank you,” I say again. I pull my eyes away as he steps out of his trousers. His briefs are tight, black in color, with a bulge that pops goosebumps along my flesh. I’ve never seen a naked man before. In movies and television, yes. But not in reality. I retreat my gaze to the floor and close my eyes.

  “Look at me,” he says.

  I blink before glancing upward at his eyes. He gives pause once more and a grin stretches across his lips.

  “Alice,” he says. “Look at me.”

  My breaths come quick as confusion takes hold. I’m already looking at him, but I let my eyes wander his body once again. First down his arms, then back up to his chest. He sports thick pectorals and individual abs that make my m
outh water. I lick my lips, my instincts seeping through me, and continue my stare downward towards his legs and groin.

  His fingertips slide underneath the elastic of his briefs and with one smooth motion, he pushes them down to the floor. As he stands back up, he studies my face.

  My eyes immediately fall to his rigid member, now prominently on display between us. I lose my air. Fantasy meets reality in my mind. I realize my mouth sits agape and I force it closed.

  Charles lets out of soft chuckle.

  “What?” I ask, feeling rather self-conscious.

  “You just look so…” His voice trails off and his eyes search the space between us.

  With each passing moment of silence, panic grows within me. Cute?, I think. Pretty? Scared? Silly? Stupid? Ugly? What? What?!

  “What?” I ask forcefully.

  “Perfect,” he says.

  The word strike me cold. I try to imagine what version of me he sees, but no clear picture enters my mind. “No,” I say, shaking my head. “I’m far from perfect.”

  “Stand up,” he demands with an extended hand. He keeps it raised until I push myself off the mattress and step towards him.

  The luxurious carpet massages my toes as I walk, but does little to calm my tingling nerves. I reach out and take his hand. His touch is warm, inviting. I don’t want to let him go.

  He pulls me closer and walks me to the far corner of the room to stand in front of the full-length mirror attached to the closet door.

  “Look at yourself,” he whispers, standing behind me. His cologne lingers on the air between us. He reaches around and places a hand beneath my chin. “What do you see?” he asks.

  I avoid looking at my reflection. “It’s me,” I say.

  He grips my face tighter and guides my gaze with his fingers, willing me to take a longer, harder, look at my body. “Go on…” he says.

  I chuckle with unease. “I don’t know…” I stutter.

  He drops my chin and I feel his hands grip the zipper of my dress. The little buzzing sound fills my ears as he pulls it down. “Try again,” he says. He keeps his eyes trained on mine in the mirror, studying me even more as I search for the correct answer.

  I sigh, his touch a distraction. “I see an eighteen-year-old college student,” I state. “Brown hair. Brown eyes. Small. Ordinary—”

 

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