I See...Love (A Different Road Book 1) (19 page)

I thought about lying and telling River that I have blonde hair and blue eyes, but I found myself answering him truthfully. As he blindfolds me, I also find myself having a panic attack. Not seeing what he is going to do to me next has me full on hyperventilating. His cheek gently brushes the left side of my face and I swallow hard.

“Listen to my voice,” he calmly says in my ear.

I desperately listen, but I can’t hear anything over my heart beating wildly in my ears and my heavy breathing pounding in my chest.

“I can’t hear you,” I say in a panic.

“Focus on slowing your heartbeat and your breathing. Listen to mine and match it,” he says, coming back to my ear again.

Well, that explains why I think he’s a ninja, because he really is a ninja. Only ninjas can train themselves to slow their heartbeat.

“Just listen to my voice,” he says.

I take a deep, calm breath through my nose, and release it out slowly through my mouth.

“Good,” he says.

He straddles my thighs and I flinch, not expecting him. His hands come to the top of my pants and he undoes the button. Then his fingers firmly slide down my zipper. He continues them downward and he palms my sex in small circles. I moan and desperately try to hear his breathing so I can control my own. His hitches in the back of his throat as his fingers grind into my pants. The room begins to fill with loud silence. It’s not often you’re blindfolded in a pitch black room with someone without the pollution of outside noises and sights, but when you are, it’s actually really loud.

Silence is loud.

I hear him move this time before his lips gently press against mine. I return the kiss, and bring my hand to his face like he does to me. I want to see his face with my fingers. I feel the rough stubble on his cheeks. I can clearly feel the line of rough stubble on the bottom half of his face and the smooth skin on top just below his cheekbones. His nose glides down my face and disappears. His hands come to mine and thread between my fingers, then he brings them up to the side of my head. He presses them into the mattress, and then his lips return to mine in a slow, sexy kiss.

Just as quickly as he was there, he’s gone again. He gets off my thighs, and if I’m correct, he gets off the bed, too. I feel vulnerable laying here unable to see him knowing he’s there somewhere. I move my head back and forth trying to get a fix on where he is. My heart feels like it’s beating in my throat. I’m startled by the gentle tug on the hem of my pants, and then they slide down my legs slowly. With every inch they slide down my leg, I get more and more turned on. Every nerve in my body is on high alert.

His finger touches the tip of my big toe, then slides slowly down the top of my foot, and up my ankle. When he reaches my knee, I find myself squirming under his touch. Two fingers continue from my knee up to my thigh. He slides his fingers under my panties, then as slowly as he came up my leg, he goes back down with my panties. I never understood how pleasure could be torture, but what he’s doing and what he’s making me feel has to be the exact definition in the dictionary.

Again, I’m lost without his touch. I turn my head to the right as I hear the rustling of his pants, then a thud as his belt buckle hits the floor. I swallow hard and my whole body comes alive as tingles race over every inch of my body. As I listen harder, I can actually hear as his fingers slide down his dress shirt as he unbuttons each button. I hear the fabric drag over each shoulder as he pulls it off slowly, then softly it comes to a rest on the floor. At this point, if a feather landed on the floor I’d hear it. I fist the sheets when I hear the soft fabric of his undershirt go over his head. I want him back. I want to see his bare chest with my fingers.

I feel the dip in the bed as he places his knee on the mattress. I feel the scratchy hairs on his leg as he rubs against my leg. He straddles my thighs again, and I feel the bulge of his erection as he presses himself against my core. His hands come to the top of my white button up shirt, and slowly he unbuttons each button. When he reaches the last one, he throws my shirt open and I gasp. Everything was going so slow, I wasn’t expecting him to rip it open quickly. All that’s left is my bra. I come up on my elbows to allow him easy access. I tip my head back and like a magnet, his lips come to my neck.

His hands snake around my back and he unclasps my bra with ease. As I lay back down, he pulls my arms through the straps. I hear a tiny clink as it hits the floor to my left. Then again, he’s gone. You would think I wouldn’t feel completely bare laying here naked with a man who can’t see, but it’s quite the opposite. His hands gently come to my upper thighs. The way he touches my body with his hands, I know he’s creating a 3D image in his brain. There’s not an inch or a flaw left unfelt. He comes to a scar I got on my leg when I was nine when Nina and I and our families went camping. He gently inspects it with his finger, and then moves on. As he touches my body and runs his hands over my skin, I feel like he knows my body better than I do.

I feel two dips in the mattress close to the side of my head, and then I start to feel a strange sense like he’s close. Without being able to see him, I can’t be sure. I don’t know what makes me do it, but I lift my head and by instinct, my lips touch his and I softly kiss his lips. I didn’t see his face in front of mine, it was just a feeling. I just knew his lips were right there. His body comes down on mine, then he lifts up slightly and one hand is removed from the bed. Then I hear the distinct sound of a condom opening. It’s like an exact picture of what he’s doing is playing out in my mind. Even though my eyes are closed and covered with his tie, I can see him putting on the condom in my brain. Listening to the heightened sounds is all kinds of crazy sexy.

Then I feel him as he slowly slides himself up and down my entrance. On a downward stroke, he pushes himself inside me. I can’t help the moan of pleasure that escapes my lips. He slowly continues in and out. I rake my fingernails across his back, and I feel his shoulder blades come together and his back arch with his own pleasure.

Suddenly, I have the urge to see his face. I want to see what this is doing to him. But he wants me to experience what he sees. I raise my hand to his face and brush it across his features. His brows are pulled together and his mouth is open as he groans deep in the back of his throat. His face turns into my hand and he places a gentle kiss in the center of my palm. God, that is hot.

I wrap my leg around his upper thighs and pull him into me with every inward thrust of his body. His head comes between my breasts, and then he trails his tongue over to my nipple. My back arches off the mattress and I take the side of his head in my hands and run my fingers through his hair. The smell of the product or the shampoo he uses in his hair wafts past my nose, and I find it mesmerizing.

His tongue trails from my nipple, up my throat, then over my jaw. He thrusts it into my mouth the same time he thrusts himself hard into me. The bedframe loudly crashes into the wall behind us. Every loud bang fuels every sense that I have, except for my eyes. My orgasm comes quick, but it rolls through my body slowly sending every inch of me into hyper, sensitive overdrive. He continues to move as I ride out the longest orgasm of my life. When I finish, his grunting changes and his whole body tightens. He roots himself firmly inside me, and then he rests his lips at my ear. With every sigh in my ear as he releases, I feel myself falling more and more for him.

Just like the first time, he removes himself from me and I hear him tie the condom in a knot. I’m not even sure what he does with it. Come to think of it, I don’t know what he did with it the last time either. He removes his tie from around my eyes, turns me over on my side, and then firmly tucks me into his side. His arm wraps around me, and the sigh that tickles my ear tells me a thousand unspoken words.

“I’ll never be able to say it,” he whispers.

He’ll never be able to say what? I find myself asking myself that in my head, but I’m scared to say it out loud. I’m scared of knowing all there is to know about him, but I’m scared of letting him let me go too.

“I’ll never be able to say to you those three little words that every woman wants to hear. You need to know that right now about me. I’ll hurt you, it’s guaranteed. I’m willing to give this a try, but don’t say I didn’t warn you and don’t create drama when months down the line, I don’t say the words you need to hear,” he says.

His words are like a stab to my heart. What has this man gone through to make him this way? Do I act the foolish little girl who says that it’s completely fine for now, because I know in time, I’ll be able to change his mind? You can’t change a man. A woman shouldn’t try to change a man. To a point sure, you can change the little things like getting him to put the toilet seat down or getting him to pick up his dirty underwear off the floor, but that’s just a courtesy. Saying, or not saying, something as fundamental as “I love you” is huge. Can I show him what love is? Am I just setting myself up for heartbreak? But, the way he feels pressed up against my body and what he just showed me were phenomenal. He said he’ll only hurt me. Do I take that at face value, or allow myself to fall deeper and deeper? I think it’s too late. I’m not in just deep. I’m already in way over my head.

I can feel her thoughts radiating from inside her as I hold her tight against my body. Joss is so different from other women. She needed to know what she’s getting into with me. I needed to lay all of my cards on the table, or at least the cards in my hand. But not the ones up my sleeve. As I hold her tight against my body, it’s not doubt that I feel. It’s not the kind of need I’m used to feeling for a woman, or from anyone for that matter.

As I drift off to sleep, a memory, or it could be a foolish boyhood wishful thinking, plays in my mind. I was maybe eight, it was my dad’s birthday, and my mother was in the kitchen, singing, making Eggplant Parmesan. My dad came home with a bouquet of flowers, which was strange because it was his birthday, yet he gave my mother a gift. As she stood at the counter with her back to me, my dad walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her. He gently kissed her neck as he placed the flowers on the counter next to her. She turned her head and smiled. It was a genuine smile, not the fake one she usually displayed to others. As he left, he trailed his index finger over her ass, earning another genuine smile from my mother.

Anger builds inside of me. These are confusing visions. Where are these images coming from? Then the car accident, then the last sight I ever see pierces my heart and I fall into a fitful sleep holding Joss in my arms.

The next morning, I wake in a cold sweat in an empty bed. I hear the muffled, distorted sounds of Joss and Nina talking. The bedroom door must be closed and they must be in the kitchen. I can’t make out anything that’s being said.

Shower.

I need a hot, steaming shower.

I feel like this tug of war has taken over inside of me. There’s this ugly, angry side, that holds onto my childhood and my upbringing. Then there’s this time with Joss, and it’s something I never imagined I could feel. But with it brings these new images that I’m not even sure are real or not. There’s this feeling in the center of my chest and it’s filled with frustration and fear. It excites me, but at the same time, it makes me furious.