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1:00 a.m.
“OHHH … THAT’S WONDERFUL,” Tessa said with a sigh as Jonas found her lips with his fingers, letting her nibble a piece of the rich cheese that the waiter had delivered to their table. This had very possibly been the best meal of her life.
Though at first it was awkward, the waiter’s prediction had come true: as each course was served, they became more proficient at handling their food using their other senses, and even trusted each other’s coordination enough to feed each other.
Tessa knew that she trusted Jonas with her life. She had, literally, on several occasions. She hoped their experiences together were helping him to trust her more, too. He seemed to have relaxed toward her since their conversation in the car, and since making love.
A shiver ran over her skin. She couldn’t wait to get him alone again.
Tessa absorbed the experience of dark eating full-on. This was definitely something she wanted to do again. After she let go of her sense of disorientation and fear of the complete dark, she found she could manage more easily.
She wondered if Jonas would want to come back here after his sight returned. She wasn’t sure how she would feel about that in his shoes.
What she was finding entertaining and enlightening might be a bad reminder of what he went through. There was still a huge difference between spending a few hours in the dark and being blind. She knew she could walk out of the room and have her sight back. Jonas, and others who had lost their vision, didn’t have that luxury.
Though another part of her wondered if people who relied on their vision weren’t the ones who missed out. Being in the dark demanded such focus that it enriched as much as it denied.
“So tell me something that you could only tell me in the dark,” he said.
She paused. “I can’t think of anything.”
“Really? A secret that you never told, a fantasy that you are too shy to share in the light of day? Isn’t that what blackouts, airplanes and dark restaurants are for?” he joked, but she knew he was serious, too.
Her heart beat a little faster at the idea, and the seductive tone of his voice.
“Maybe,” she said, unsure.
“Tell me.”
Tessa couldn’t believe she was so nervous. She wasn’t shy, in fact, she was often the one who initiated sex with her partners. But there was one thing … she had never told anyone. She didn’t know if Jonas would be okay with it. What if he thought she was demented?
“The problem with sharing secrets in the dark is that we have to go out into the light at some point,” she said, thinking twice.
“Tell me, Tessa,” he said again, stroking her hand with his thumb.
Sparks lit along her skin and she almost expected to see them light up in the dark.
“Okay. There is one fantasy I’ve often had …”
“Mmm-hmm.” His hand was on her thigh, rubbing lightly there now, and she had a hard time focusing.
“I’d like to have someone watch me have sex.”
His hand stopped. “What do you mean exactly?”
“I’d like to perform for a lover. You know, just have you, for instance, sit back and watch. Maybe I could use a vibrator, my hand or some other toys, but I’d love to feel free enough with someone to do that, to know that they could enjoy just staying back and watching me pleasure myself,” she said, her voice catching. She was getting turned on just talking about it, but also felt embarrassed admitting it.
“I can’t imagine anyone saying no to that,” he said, his own voice a little rough.
“Men don’t want to think women can find pleasure without them. It’s a dent to their egos, I guess,” she said.
“Not mine. I could do that. If you want, I want to do that,” he said, his hand rubbing her leg again, moving higher. “When I have my eyes back, I mean. Just say the word.”
She was incredibly turned on by sharing that with him, and by the prospect of being able to do it. But as he buried his face in her neck, she pushed him back.
“Your turn.”
He took a breath. “Right. I don’t suppose I can get away with the standard guy fantasy of two women, right?”
She laughed. “I know you can be more creative than that.”
“I don’t know. I have always been a pretty traditional kind of guy in bed. What you did to me on the train … that was about as kinky as I have ever gotten.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah.”
“So is there anything you’ve ever thought you’d like to do? You know, the thing you can only share in the dark?”
She put her hand on his thigh now, mimicking his motion on hers earlier.
“You are evil,” he said.
“Tell me.”
“Okay. I’ve never done it, but I think I’d like to try …”
Tessa realized she was actually holding her breath.
“Maybe being tied up,” he said. “and tying up my partner in return.”
“Bondage?”
“Yeah,” he said softly. “I’ve never trusted anyone enough to allow myself to be completely at their whim. To let them do whatever they wanted to me. For them to be completely in control. No pain or anything like that … or maybe just a little,” he said in a tone that tantalized her. “And hopefully they could trust me in the same way.”
Tessa took a deep breath to try to slow down her speeding heart.
“I could so do that,” she said, enjoying the image of Jonas bound to her bed. “I mean, if you ever thought, you know, if you wanted me to—”
She stopped, realizing she had dug her nails into his thigh. When she pulled her hand away, her fingers brushed his cock, hard and testing the looseness of the scrubs.
“I’ll go find our waiter to see if he can bring a check,” she said quickly.
He got up, too, and as she turned on her heel, she bumped into the chair and stumbled forward.
Amazingly, Jonas was there, his strong hands closing on her upper arms, steadying her and then pulling her in to hold her close.
“Hey, careful.”
“Good catch,” she said, linking her arms around his neck.
“Mmm,” he said, kissing her.
“We all go through life stumbling around in the dark, Jonas, looking for something to grab on to that makes sense. You and I, we seem to keep bumping into each other. We fit.”
He pulled her against him, fitting her to him tightly as he deepened the kiss. She didn’t resist, letting him take his fill, and getting hers in return. But for all the desire and passion between them, she couldn’t help but think there was something else Jonas hadn’t told her. Some other secret that stayed between them in the dark.
ELY SNUCK THE KEYS out of Chloe’s pocket as he pressed her against the doorjamb, her arms locked around his neck, their kisses even hungrier after their backseat encounter.
She was gorgeous, he thought, sliding the key effortlessly into the lock and opening the door without missing a beat, getting them inside where they could dispose of soaking-wet clothes and he could take his time with her.
“You have great hand-eye coordination,” she said against his mouth.
“I was very motivated to get that door open and get us inside,” he responded as he deftly undid the buttons on her wet blouse.
“I wasn’t talking about opening the door,” she rejoined, nibbling at his bottom lip, making him laugh and groan at the same time.
She tried the light switch on the wall, but apparently the power was still out.
He felt … light. For the first time in recent memory.
“I’m glad you stuck to your old habits,” he said, thankful he’d gone to the bar and that she had walked in.
“Me, too,” she whispered, lifting a hand to his face, running her fingers over the stubble of his jaw. “Let me get out of these clothes—”
“My thinking exactly,” he interrupted.
She laughed, and he liked how it infused her entire expression with warmth. Her laugh reverberated through her entire body, the cool, distant reporter erased, a vibrant, passionate woman revealed.
He’d known there was magic between them before, but he’d been too raw then, too fresh from his return to be good for anyone. He hadn’t been ready for more then, but he was now.
“How about we get dry, have a glass of wine … take our time,” she said, leaning in to kiss him again. “No need to rush.”
He nodded, sighing. “You’re right. There’s time,” he agreed.
It was a luxury he was still getting used to. Time had seemed to stop in Afghanistan, and since then, it was punctuated by the start and stop of various jobs where he’d experienced things that often made him acutely aware of how time often ran out.
He didn’t want to waste any more of his.
They walked into her bedroom, and he watched as she moved around the room, lighting several candles set on dressers and tables. The warm light revealed ultrafeminine decor that he only vaguely remembered, taking in the thick, old-fashioned quilt of cream and roses, the ornate, Victorian lamps and lacy curtains. It spoke to the old-fashioned, traditional woman who lived beneath the image of the hardened career woman.
The space was so feminine it made him feel too big and cumbersome, like if he moved, he’d break something. Classic bull in a china shop. At the same time, he liked it very much. She was different than the other women he knew in a way that spoke to him.
“You’re quiet,” she said, stripping down to the black bra and panties that took his attention away from the room altogether.
She had an amazing body, all legs, curves and delectable soft spots he loved to explore and hadn’t gotten nearly enough of. The soft, flickering candlelight completed the fantasy.
He grinned, shucking his shirt, liking the way she looked at him when he did so. “Just taking in the room, and you,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows at her and making her laugh.
“You’re different now,” she said, watching him closely.
He shrugged. “Not really.”
“You were so closed off back then. I know that interview was torture for you,” she said.
“I was still adjusting. It’s disorienting, being in the desert one day and back here the next, surrounded by people who all want something from you.”
“You never said much, even during our night together.”
He didn’t remember that. He remembered touching her and losing himself in what she’d offered him. But now he realized how selfish he’d been.
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t myself then. I should have walked away when you asked me back to your place, but—”
He’d needed the comfort, but more than that, something about her had beckoned him. Something about Chloe had given him what he needed, which was way more than sex, even though he didn’t recognize it at the time.
“I’m glad you didn’t. I only wish you hadn’t walked away after,” she said. “Are you going to walk away again now? Am I going to wake up in the morning to find you gone again?”
“No,” he said simply, the word his promise.
“Okay,” she said, accepting it.
She put on her robe, and then grabbed another one from the closet, handing it to him.
He took the garment, staring at it for a moment. It was definitely a guy’s, and that bothered him for a second. He looked up to see her staring at him, one eyebrow arched.
“What? Did you think that I didn’t sleep with anyone for three years, just waiting for you to come back?” she asked, smiling, though there was no barb in the question.
He took a breath. “No, not that. Hell, I didn’t even really know I was looking for you again until tonight … or maybe I knew it all along, since I got down here in Norfolk. I was reading your articles … you’re still an amazing journalist,” he said, and saw pleasure bloom in her expression. “An amazing woman.”
“I kept track of you, too,” she admitted, turning to the dresser and fussing with something, opening a drawer where she put some items, and closed it again. “I often thought of contacting you, but I don’t go begging. Though you were the first man who made me consider it,” she said, walking up close and sliding her hands over his chest.
“I don’t imagine you were a saint either.”
He frowned. No, he hadn’t been a saint. There had been some women, several, in fact, but none that really mattered. None he ever saw again or sought out.
“Let’s not talk about the past. It’s done,” he said. “The present—and the future—are much more promising.”
“I like the sound of that,” she agreed.
She seemed smaller here, more fragile and feminine, her hair undone and curling from the rain, falling down over her shoulders. He slid his hands through it, feeling possessive and lucky—why did he wait so long?
Her mouth was like velvet, and he let his robe drop to the floor as he dived the other hand into her hair, kissing her until she was trembling with need. Possessing her.
His, he thought.
“Ely,” she said his name on a breath when he released her lips. He was sure he couldn’t hear it enough, wanted to make her scream it.
Falling to his knees, he undid her robe, slid his hands up her legs, parting her slim, silky thighs. Parting the soft folds of her sex with his fingers, he tasted her lightly at first, but as she heated up, becoming slick, he lost himself in kissing her, sucking the hard, aroused pearl of her clit between his lips.
