Page 20 of Love is Blind
“That was quite the show,” he mutters.
I nod. That was some of my finest work, but he was no slouch either.
“The caveman thing was a nice touch. We make a good act. If the sex is good, we should consider taking it on the road.”
“If?”
I shrug my shoulders, feigning indifference.
“Nothing in this world is guaranteed,” I quip, grinning.
“Take off your clothes and I’ll prove you wrong.”
He doesn’t exactly have to pull my leg. I start to shrug off my jacket, but then I remember he has my cane. Holding out my hand, I say, “Give me my cane first.”
“Not gonna say it again, Birdie. You don’t need that thing with me.”
Pulling my lower lip between my teeth, I consider his words. While I’m all for having a good time and getting naked—I’m totally down with that—I’m completely lost without my cane.
Now, I know what you’re thinking—I wasn’t all that worried about my cane when I followed Ghost into the bathroom and propositioned him—and you’re right, my cane was the last thing on my mind. I was still reeling from my argument with Emmy and I didn’t think my plan through. But I’ve sobered some and now I’m in a foreign place with a man I don’t know and he’s asking me to trust him with more than just my body.
He’s asking me to let him be my eyes.
That’s not something I’ve had too much luck with in the past and after my ex burned me as badly as he did, I vowed never to rely on anyone again, much less a man. If I picked up a guy, I took them back to my place where I could navigate my apartment without the use of my cane and simply count my steps. I controlled the narrative. I’m completely out of my element here.
Ghost moves his hands to my hips, pulling them into his and drops his forehead to mine. His scent is overpowering, but so is his touch and when he moves his hands to my shoulders and slides my jacket down my arms, he somehow strips me of my inhibitions too.
The cane becomes a lost concern as I wind my arms around his neck and curl my fingers around the ends of his hair, pulling his mouth down to mine. His beard scratches me as he slides his tongue inside my mouth.
God, he’s good at that.
Releasing his hair, I move my hands to his broad shoulders and push the leather vest down his arms. It falls to the floor with a thud as fingers start to work the buttons on my pajama top. As our kiss grows more intense, our hands become frantic. He tears his mouth from mine and rips my shirt open. The last few buttons fly around the room and the top joins his vest on the floor. I bring my hands to my breasts, feeling the lace beneath my fingers.
I may have missed the mark with my attire, but at least the lingerie gods were on my side.
Ghost’s hands cover mine and I close my eyes. My nipples pebble against the lace and a shiver of lust races through my entire body.
Lacing our fingers together, he pins our joined hands to my sides and his lips find my neck. He nips and sucks his way to my collarbone, writing more love letters on my skin.
In the back of my head, a little voice calls out to me, warning me I’m about to lose myself to this man. That after tonight, I won’t be the same. Coasting through life, making one mistake after another, won’t be enough for me anymore.
But I ignore the warning. I may never get to feel like this again, so I’m going to take what I can. I’m going to live for the moment, and wear his love letters proud until they fade, and he becomes a memory.
He untangles our fingers and brings his hands to my shoulders, slipping his fingers under the straps of my bra. Sliding them down, he peppers my skin with more kisses before reaching behind me to unclasp my bra.
I inhale sharply, my heart hammering against my chest as his large palm flattens against my spine, pressing me closer to him. The bra falls from my chest and he buries his face in the crook of my neck, sucking and licking his way to my breasts. He takes one nipple into his mouth, flicking his tongue back and forth over the tiny bud, then he uses his teeth and the sweetest moan spills from my lips.
I’m not going to last long, my panties are already soaked.
He slides his hand low on my back and I arch into his touch. The need to touch him claws at me and I reach for him, slipping my hands under his tee, tracing the deep cuts of his abs with my fingertips.
Releasing my nipple, he cups both of my breasts and buries his face between them.
“Fucking hell,” he hisses against my skin. The rugged tone of his voice sends a shiver down my spine and I clench my legs together. He’s barely touched me, and I’m already ruined.
Drawing in a deep breath, he lifts his head. His hands take purchase on my hips and he takes a step backward. I’m not sure why he’s putting space between us, but I don’t like it. My pulse quickens and I swallow the knot in my throat.
His hands close around my wrists and he guides me to his belt buckle. I still for a moment, then his gruff voice sounds.
