When I finally peak, the sensation is so overwhelming that I swear I almost black out. the site where Garrett contributesL" aid="Calder isn’t far behind me, and he groans as he thrusts into me a final time. Afterward, we both collapse in a breathless heap on the floor.
“Wow,” I say. I’m sticky with sweat, but Calder doesn’t seem to mind. He wraps himself around me, drawing me up against his chest.
“I would ask if you enjoyed yourself, but I think I already know the answer,” he says. “I think all of your neighbors know the answer, too.”
I bat at him, but he dodges my blind swing easily. When I start to remove the blindfold, however, he catches my hand.
“All day, remember?” he says.
“There’s more?”
“Oh, yes,” he whispers into my ear. “I’m just getting started.”
* * *
It’s easy to ignore the rest of the world when you’re drowning in sex.
All the teasing and denial of the past few weeks only made both of us hungrier for each other, and we spend the morning as Calder promised, making up for lost time.
By lunchtime we’ve worked up quite an appetite, and we decide to order in. It seems like a good idea after Calder’s last attempt to cook—especially since in my current blindfolded state I can do little to help. I’m a little disappointed that I don’t get to see his strategic maneuvering when it comes time to answer the door—if he’s forcing me to keep the blindfold on all day, then I’m not about to let him out of his dare and allow him to put his clothes back on—but I forget my disappointment when I get a whiff of the food and my stomach rumbles. I’m starving.
“What are we having?” I ask.
He’s seated me at his table—still naked, of course—and though I can hear him laying out the cartons in front of me, there are too many aromas for me to identify them all. Calder lists off the dishes one by one, and my mouth waters more with every word.
“Here,” Calder says, and I hear him drag a chair up next to mine. “I’ll help you eat.”
“I’m blindfolded, not a child. I can eat on my own.” Too bad he can’t see me roll my eyes. the floorit10
He laughs. “Of course. Forgive me.”
He passes me a fork, and he doesn’t quite manage to stifle his chuckle when my fingers miss it the first time. My other hand scrabbles around the table until I find the nearest carton, and I raise it to my face and take a sniff.
“This is the lo mein,” I say. I jab my fork into the container and swirl it around, trying to catch a nice-sized bite of noodles. When I feel the right amount of resistance on my fork, I raise it to my lips. It’s probably not the most graceful of bites, but I believe I manage it quite well.
Not that Calder isn’t still deeply entertained by the whole thing. I can feel his amusement radiating off of him. I sense his eyes on me as I go for a second bite.
“Aren’t you hungry?” I ask. “Or do you prefer to just watch me eat?”
“I’m hungry,” he says. But I can tell by his tone that he isn’t talking about food.
When I’ve had my fill of the lo mein, I feel around until I find another carton. This one smells like it has some meat—pork, maybe?—and steamed vegetables. I poke around with my fork until I’ve caught something. I succeed in getting it halfway to my mouth before the sauce drips on my chest.
“Making a mess, are we?” says Calder.
I’m already raising my napkin, but his hand catches my wrist. I feel him lean toward me, and his warm breath hovers over my skin. A second later I feel his tongue on my breast, lapping up the offending drop.
“Much better,” he says when he pulls away.
“I’m beginning to see your plan now.”
“And you approve?”
I don’t dignify his question with a response. Instead I scoop up another bit of food with my fork. I manage another five or six bites before something finally falls off of my fork and onto my lap.
“I’ve got takes me a moment toCalder . I donit,” Calder says, and before I can stop him he’s diving face-first at my crotch.
“Calder!” I say, but it comes out as a laugh. He has me by the waist, and he’s kissing my thighs, my hips—any bit of skin he can reach. I try to squirm away, but that only encourages him. He’s nipping at my lower abdomen, flicking his tongue at my belly-button. It tickles, and I squeal and tug at his hair. And then I’m falling out of my chair, Calder with me, and we both hit the cheap linoleum floor.
Calder freezes. “Are you all right?”
It only takes me a moment to catch my breath, and then I’m laughing again—practically hyperventilating. Calder joins in, and he’s tickling, kissing, caressing every part of me as I swat playfully at him.
It makes my heart swell to see—well, hear—him like this, joyful and carefree and just happy. He’s always been so serious—willing and eager to play a naughty game or two, yes, but always serious. I know that his worries hover just out of sight, that a careless word might bring them rushing back again, but I’m determined to chase them away, at least for this weekend. If I have to keep him here for the next two days, hide him away from everything else, then I’ll do it.
Calder notices that I’ve stopped laughing. “What is it?”
“Nothing.” My fingers flutter about until they find his face. “You know, I still need to eat.”
“Do you want me to help you this time?”
“Maybe.”
He leans closer. “You’re going to have to ask me very nicely.”
I let out a laugh and give him a shove.
“You’ll be waiting a long time for that!” I say.
He lunges after me, catching me just as I’ve managed to find my chair again.
“Minx,” he growls, but he guides me back up into the seat the floorit10, and when he joins me at the table he makes no argument to helping me with the rest of my dinner.
It’s one of the strangest and most romantic things I’ve ever experienced, letting him feed me while I’m blindfolded. I thought it would make me feel silly, like a child, but instead it’s incredibly sensual. Any time something drips, he’s there with his lips, kissing it up.
At one point he pauses, and I feel him looking at me.
“What is it?” I say.
For a moment he doesn’t say anything, and my gut seizes. I fear the worst—that something has reminded him of his father or all the tabloid madness—but then he leans forward and touches me lightly on the cheek.