“Trust you?” I asked.
He nodded.
“Alright. Do your worst.”
“Only my best for you.” His lips pressed to my head as a silky black blindfold covered my eyes.
“Now what?”
“You tell me which one you like best.”
“Which what?”
“Open wide.”
I obeyed, then thought better of it. “It’s not going to be your dick, is it?”
His laughter boomed, somehow louder without my sight. “You’ve never complained before.”
“We’ve never had this kind of audience.”
“Does that mean you’d be willing with a smaller crowd,civetta?” he whispered.
I quivered at the idea but shook my head, not willing to discuss how much I liked the thought of it in front of all these random people.
“There are fifteen samples here. Tell me which you like best.”
As a fork gently poked my lip, I knew it was cake from the buttery, sweet, bakery-made aroma. Chocolate, red-velvet, vanilla, an alcohol flavor, lemon, carrot, berry, tiramisu, and more—almost all of them had my mouth watering for another bite, but I ended up picking the white chocolate raspberry flavor. When I went to remove the blindfold, he stopped me.
“Keep it on. Just follow me.” He placed my hands on his waist and slowly guided me to another destination. Not far—it was maybe even in the same room, but definitely on the opposite side from where the chefs had stood.
“This part, I get to pick,” he said. “Then you’ll be off to your last stop before the grand finale.”
“Laying the mystery on a bit thick, aren’t you?”
“I have to keep you on your toes.”
“You do that just fine already.”
“Indulge me.”
Cool metal met my ears, and I flinched.
“Just earrings,” he said, his lips skimming my jawline. My face flushed at the innocent touch from my very corrupt man.
He pulled away and pressed another set of earrings to my earlobes, these ones a little heavy. He went from earring to earring with only a few comments from the vendors. Knowing Renzo, he probably made their silence a stipulation of whatever game he was playing.
“These are the ones. Put them on,” Renzo finally said, and I did as he asked.
The delicate pair dangled from my earlobes to halfway down my neck in strands that felt like leaves attached to stems.
I still had the blindfold on as Renzo directed me, by my waist, toward our last stop.
“This is where I leave you,” he told me before stealing a kiss. “Don’t take too long. I’ll be waiting.”
Two new sets of hands grabbed me from in front and tugged me forward.
“We’ll take it from here.” That was Lou. “Now shoo.”
