Page 11 of Blindfold Vol. 2


  “All right,” Cade said. “That takes care of sexual history.”

  “I don't get yours?” The question shot out of my mouth before I could stop it. I looked up in time to see his look of surprise before he laughed.

  “Hon, I've done it all.” He winked at me. “But if you want details...”

  “No!” I quickly said. “Are we done?”

  Cade shook his head and the feeling of dread inside me grew. “Now we need to discuss how this is going to work.”

  I felt another snarky response wanting to escape and refrained.

  “I'm your teacher, which means, entering into this, you are agreeing to do as I say.”

  “Hold on.” I shook my head. “I don't think so.”

  “Would you tell a piano teacher that you don't want to follow his or her instructions?”

  “No,” I said. “But a piano teacher isn't going to tell me to spread my legs.”

  “If they're a good one, they might.” Cade gave me his wicked grin again, the one that made me want to slap him and kiss him at the same time. “But seriously, you're asking for me to instruct you. That means you have to trust me to do my job.” His expression became serious. “I promise I will never tell you to do something that isn't for your benefit.”

  “Really?” I let skepticism flow into my voice.

  “I'm not saying I won't enjoy it, too,” he said. “But it'll all be part of your lessons.”

  “So you want me to agree to do whatever you tell me, no matter what?”

  “You'll have safe words. Red means stop. Yellow means you're uncomfortable and aren't sure if you want to go any further. Yellow's okay, but if you say red, I'll stop and we'll be done. I won't force you to do anything you don't want to do, but I'm not going to play either. It wouldn't be fair to either of us.”

  That actually sounded reasonable, I thought. Still, the idea of having someone bossing me around sexually made me anxious. “What kinds of things would you be telling me to do?”

  “Well, we'd ease into everything, of course,” he said. “But it might be something like me telling you to get down on your knees and put your hands behind your back.” His voice was so low I had to lean closer to hear everything. “I'd tell you to open your mouth and I'd control how fast and how deep you took my cock.”

  I swallowed hard at the image his words painted.

  “Or we might go to dinner and I'll have you leave your panties at home.”

  My hands curled into fists. He reached out and pushed back a curl that had fallen across my face.

  “I'll tell you when you can come. When you can touch yourself or me. Every aspect of your pleasure will be mine to control.” He paused, and stroked my cheek again, his finger brushing across my lower lip. And, Aubree… there will be pleasure. More than you've ever dreamed possible.”

  My pulse sped up at his words. I had no doubt he could deliver on his promise. The question was, could I do it? Could I give myself over to this man, allow him to take control of every aspect of that part of my life?

  My eyes met his and he held my gaze, steady and sure of himself. He hadn't done anything to break my trust, I reminded myself. If anything, coming to see me after what had happened was evidence that he did have a degree of honor.

  “All right,” I said, my voice barely over a whisper. “I agree.”

  He pushed back from the table and stood abruptly. “Very good. I'll speak to Adelle about the monetary arrangements. Our first date will be tomorrow afternoon.”

  “Tomorrow?” I was thrown.

  “I assumed you'd want to begin at my next available appointment. Would you prefer to wait?”

  Part of me was saying I should wait, that I needed to carefully consider what I was doing. Up to this point, it had all been talk. But tomorrow? Tomorrow meant fantasy was speeding toward a reality I didn’t feel ready for. If I agreed to see him tomorrow, he'd contact Adelle and there wouldn't be anyway to pretend like this exchange had never happened. I knew if I waited, even a week, there was a good chance I'd change my mind. And then… then everything would go back to the way it was.

  My insides sank at the thought and I felt tears burn the back of my eyes. The ‘way it was’ sucked. The ‘way it was’ was merely existing. That, more than anything, made me agree.

  “Tomorrow afternoon.”

  “Great.” Cade held out his hand for me to shake.

  I tried to ignore the heat going through me as we touched.

  “I'll contact you with the place and time by this evening.”

  “Okay.”

  “Until tomorrow then.” He released my hand.

  Tomorrow, I thought as I watched him walk away. Tomorrow was when everything was going to change. A new chapter. A new life. I was going to be a whole new person. Brave. Adventurous. Alive.

  I tried not to think about how much that idea terrified me.

  Chapter 6

  I didn’t know if it was Adelle's idea or Cade's to go to the Four Seasons Ritz-Carlton rather than the Park Hyatt Hotel where Cade and I had our first tryst, but I appreciated the gesture. I was nervous enough as it was. I didn't need memories of that previous night. The date itself hadn’t been bad. It was actually because it had been so good I didn't want to be reminded of it. I didn't want to think about how I'd felt that night, full of hope and possibilities. Better I stick with what I knew to be true. Cade was going to teach me what I needed to know to make sure I never felt like a fool again. And if I enjoyed myself, then he was just doing his job. Nothing more.

  His text had been succinct. The hotel name and room number, with a time. It surprised me a bit that he hadn't included any other instructions, like what I was supposed to wear or how I was supposed to behave. I'd spent the entire night trying to figure out what I was going to wear and had ended up not choosing any of the three outfits I'd picked out. Instead, I opted for simple and professional, a reminder for myself that this was a business transaction. Plain black skirt that reached my knees. White cotton blouse. Fitted black jacket. Sensible pumps. It had been the outfit I'd worn to interview for my position at Legacy.

  And the moment Cade opened the door, I knew I'd made a mistake.

  He managed not to laugh, but I saw the humor flash across his eyes before he could hide it. He opened the door and motioned for me to come in. I tried not to stare at him as I walked by. He was dressed simply in a pair of gray slacks and a long-sleeved white dress shirt, with the top two buttons undone. His shoes were plain but expensive-looking.

  “What's so funny?” I hated the defensive note in my voice, but I couldn't seem to help myself. This wasn't my element. I wasn't a five-star hotel kind of girl.

  “You look like a school teacher.”

  His comment was virtually identical to what Mindy had said about my clothes when I'd been trying to dress for my date with Steven. I found myself giving the same, automatic answer I'd given her. “I am a school teacher.”

  He grinned. “That's good to know for future reference.” I must've looked as puzzled as I felt because he elaborated. “School teacher fantasies are always fun.”

  I glared at him. “Let me get this straight. My first lesson is to learn it's okay for you to make fun of me and my occupation, as long as you sexualize it in the next breath?”

  His smile hardened and a muscle in his jaw twitched. “Most women coming to a hotel for a sexual liaison would dress in something provocative, something to seduce.”

  I folded my arms and raised an eyebrow. “I wasn't aware I had to seduce you.”

  He crossed into my personal space in just a few long strides and I gasped. His eyes were burning and I had a feeling I was glimpsing something beneath the calm mask he wore. He didn't touch me, but I could feel the energy vibrating off of him. The scent of him hit me, a rich masculine smell I'd noticed the first time I met him, and my pussy gave a throb.

  “Lesson number one, Aubree: yes, men want sex and, yes, we don't really need you to seduce us.” A finger lifted my chin until I was
meeting his eyes. “But, if you want to be desired, want to be everything you think you're not, then you need to change the way you look at the world.”

  My eyes widened. His voice was even, but there was an authority to it that demanded I listen.

  He took a step back, apparently satisfied to have my rapt attention. “It's not about showing skin or flaunting what you have. It's about how you carry yourself.”

  Okay, that hadn't been what I expected. I'd been prepared for a lecture about wearing something sexy.

  “A woman can be seductive in anything, if she has the right attitude. You didn't dress in this outfit because it makes you feel powerful, respected, or confident in who you are as a person.” Cade circled me and I fought the urge to squirm under the intensity of his gaze. “You chose it because you think it makes you look professional, which you feel automatically demands respect. You hide behind being a teacher, using it as an excuse for why you dress the way you do. It's not that this is your style or how you prefer to dress. You're comfortable in it not because you're comfortable in your own skin, but rather because you prefer to hide it.”

  “I wasn't aware you were a psychiatrist too.” He was either a lot smarter and more observant than I'd given him credit for. Or he was a damn good guesser. Those weren't even observations Mindy or Adelle had ever made, though Adelle had gotten close.

  “Take off your clothes.”

  It was abrupt, but at least that was a command I'd been expecting. I took a step toward the doorway I assumed led to the bedroom.

  “Where are you going?” Cade asked.

  “The bedroom?”

  “I didn't say to go anywhere.” He walked over to the burgundy love-seat on the far end of the room and sat down in the middle. He stretched his arms along the back of it, assuming a relaxed pose. “Take off your clothes. Slowly.”

  I shrugged out of my jacket and slipped off my shoes. Those were the easy ones and I took my time. This was too similar to our previous encounter and I didn't want it to be.

  “Imagine the way you want to be undressed,” he said as I started on my blouse buttons. “The way you would want your lover's hands to caress your body over your clothes. Think of the way your body would respond to his touch.”

  I was almost finished unbuttoning my shirt and I had no idea what he wanted me to do. Ronald hadn't been the caressing type. Sometimes he'd feel me up over my clothes, but that was generally because we weren't anywhere he could get them off or it was during the process of getting undressed.

  “Take a deep breath, Aubree,” Cade said. “Don't overthink it. Listen to your body. If it helps, for right now, close your eyes.”

  I closed them. That was better. I couldn't see Cade watching me. My muscles began to relax as I let myself fall into the head space I used when I touched myself. A place where it was just sensation, nothing else. Just me and my fingers; just pleasure. I concentrated on the way the soft cotton felt as it slid off my shoulders, then ran my hands up my sides to cup my breasts. My bra and panties were only plain white cotton, but it didn't matter. My hands moved to my hips, then around to the zipper at my back. I listened to it slide down its tracks, the whisper of the material as I pushed my skirt over my hips. I felt it pool around my ankles and stepped out of it.

  “Much better. Now open your eyes.”

  Reluctantly, I did as I was told. I started to reach behind me to unhook my bra.

  “Not yet,” Cade said. “Touch yourself first.”

  I shifted my weight from one foot to the other. I wasn't sure which made me more uncomfortable, the idea of touching myself in front of a virtual stranger, or that I wasn't in a bedroom. Maybe it was because it was the middle of the day and the sun was streaming through the thin curtain covering the floor-to-ceiling window.

  “Put your hands on your breasts, Aubree.” Cade's knees parted slightly and I couldn't help but notice the way his pants showed off what he had to offer. “Do what you enjoy. Squeeze them if that's what you like. Play with your nipples. Not every woman likes the same things. How will a man know what you want if you don't even know it yourself?”

  I cupped my breasts again and gave them a tentative squeeze. When my fingers brushed over my nipples, I felt a tingle of pleasure. I repeated the movement.

  “Good girl. Now, touch your pussy through your panties.”

  I swallowed hard, but dropped my hand between my legs. The fabric was dry, but as I pressed my fingers against my lips, moisture seeped through. I made a small sound as I rubbed my fingers over the crotch of my panties, the cotton providing a different kind of sensation.

  “Take off your bra.”

  It joined the rest of my clothes on the floor. This obedience thing wasn't too bad.

  “Get your nipples nice and hard.”

  I rubbed my fingers over my nipples, feeling the carmel-colored flesh wrinkle and tighten. It didn't take much. I'd always had sensitive nipples.

  “Look at me.”

  I didn't want to. I didn't want to see his face. The lie of desire, or worse, the absence of anything.

  “Aubree.” His voice was sharp. “Look at me.”

  I did and there was arousal in his eyes. My eyes burned with sudden tears. I folded my arms over my breasts, everything I'd been feeling vanishing. I didn't want to be here anymore.

  “What's wrong?”

  There was concern in his voice, but it wasn't a compassionate, tender sound. More like how my basketball coach in high school had talked to me when I'd gotten hurt. I half expected Cade to tell me to pull myself together and get on with it.

  “I thought I could do this,” I said. “If I came into it with my eyes open, knowing it was just business, but I can't take the lie.”

  “What lie?”

  I lifted my chin and forced myself to meet his eyes. “I was okay with not having an emotional connection, but I can't stomach the thought that you're pretending to want me.”

  He chuckled and shook his head. “Seriously?” He dropped his hand to his crotch and my eyes involuntarily followed. “I'm already getting hard and I haven't even touched myself.”

  I hated that he made me so confused. “But Adelle's paying you to want to do this.”

  Cade sighed. “I'm going to explain this just once and then you're going to have to make a choice about whether or not you want to be here. Yes, I'm being paid to have sex with you. No, I don't do the whole emotion thing. But that doesn’t means I don't find you attractive. I'm not some ten-dollar hooker who'll do anyone who has the cash. I'm choosy about my clients and I don't take on anyone I don't think I'd enjoy fucking. I don't fantasize about other women to get through a session. When I'm turned on, it's real.”

  A rush of relief went through me, chasing away the last of my lingering doubts. His words were sincere, I could feel it.

  “Do we have an understanding?” he asked.

  I nodded.

  “Then slide your hand under the waistband of your panties and touch yourself.” The hand on his crotch returned to the back of the couch.

  I kept my eyes on his face as I ran my hand over my stomach and underneath the waistband of my panties. I didn't have to feel ashamed that I found him attractive or worry about what he was thinking when he looked at me. He wanted me, wanted my body. My middle finger slipped between my folds and I found myself wet. I shivered as I touched my clit, little sparks of electricity dancing across the thousands of nerves there.

  “Roll your nipple between your fingers.”

  A moan escaped as I followed his instructions. The hand between my legs moved faster, falling into the steady rhythm I only used when I was alone. I applied more pressure to my nipple, my body jerking as a jolt of pain went through me.

  “Stop.”

  I glared at him, but didn't argue.

  “Take off your panties.”

  I slowly lowered them, enjoying the way his eyes dropped to my breasts as I bent over. When I straightened, I clasped my hands in front of me, not quite covering myself up, but
not putting everything on display either.

  “You'll find,” he said “that there are just as many preferences for the appearance of a woman's pussy as there are for breast size, hips, and all the rest.” His gaze slowly ran down my body and back up again. “I feel that a woman should choose based on what she enjoys.”

  I wondered if he was purposefully taking the time to have these little moments after working me up, just to keep me on edge.

  “Did your ex ask you to keep yourself trimmed?”

  I shook my head. “We didn't really talk about it.”

  “Have you ever shaved or waxed?”

  “No.” I'd had my legs waxed once. It wasn't an experience I wanted to repeat, especially on more tender flesh.

  “Try it this week,” he said. “Part of what I'll be doing is challenging you to try new things. After all, how can you know what you like if you don't experiment?” He shifted slightly. “Now, come here.”

  A thrill went through me. As much as I appreciated the lessons, I couldn't deny I was eager to feel him inside me again.

  “Put one of your feet up here on the couch.” He patted a spot next to his knee.

  I gave him a questioning look, but did it. Heat flooded my face as I realized how this position opened me up to his gaze. His fingers curled around my ankle, holding me in place.

  “Make yourself come.”

  Overly conscious of how closely he was now watching me, I moved my hand between my legs. The movements were almost automatic from years of practice, but this was different. Ronald had never watched me masturbate before. Hell, I was pretty sure he'd barely registered the times I'd helped myself along while we were having sex.