"Excuse me?"
"You heard me. Take it off. All of it."
She plants her feet, that sass I fell for sparking back to life. "I don't see how getting naked helps me with cracking that safe."
"It’s not about the safe," I tell her, leaning into her space and dragging my lips across her neck. "It’s about vulnerability. You’re used to hiding behind layers, wigs, glasses and fake names. Tonight, you strip it all away. No Martha, no Sapphire, no Blue. Just you and just us."
She glares at me as I back off, but her hands move to the buttons of her blouse. She undoes them slowly, her eyes never leaving mine. The ugly grey slacks follow, then the bra and panties, until she’s standing before us all completely bare. She’s magnificent. All pale skin and soft curves I want to dig into. She wraps her arms around herself, trying to cover up.
"Arms down," I say softly.
She takes a shaky breath and drops her arms to her sides. "Happy?"
"Not yet."
I reach into my back pocket and pull out a thick black silk tie I grabbed from the closet earlier.
Demi’s eyes widen, darting from the tie to my face. "You’re going to blindfold me?"
"Sensory deprivation," I explain, stepping behind her. I gather her short hair, lifting it off her neck. "You did well with this on Halloween. You let go of control and trusted us, complete strangers, to take care of you at your most vulnerable. Somehow in all the noise of our chase, our game, you lost that trust. In the heist, your focus needs to be absolute. You can't be looking over your shoulder. You need to learn to function in the dark, guided only by our voices. You need to trust us to take care of you again, baby."
"This feels like a kink thing," she mutters, though she doesn't pull away as I settle the silk over her eyes.
"It can be two things," I suggest against her ear, tying the knot tight enough to be secure but not painful.
I turn her around to face me. "Can you see anything?"
"No," she whispers. She reaches out, her hands grasping at the air, looking for an anchor.
I catch her wrists, bringing them behind her back. I hold them there with one hand, not tying them, just holding them. "Don't reach. Feel."
I run my free hand down her throat, over the slope of her shoulder, down her arm. She shivers, goosebumps rising on her skin.
"What do you feel, Demi?"
"Your hand," she breathes. "It’s warm. Rough."
"What else?"
"Panic," she admits, her voice tight. "I don't like not seeing."
"I know. That’s the point." I step closer, pressing my chest against hers. I’m still fully dressed, the rough denim of my jeans and the cotton of my shirt a stark contrast to her naked skin. "You’re in the dark. You’re vulnerable but you’re not unsafe. Who has you?"
"You do," she says.
"Say my name."
"Andre."
"Good girl." I release her wrists and slide my hand down her spine, cupping her ass and pulling her flush against my erection. "Now, listen to my voice. Focus on nothing else."
I guide her backward until her legs hit the edge of the table. "Sit and then lay back.”
I crawl over her, settling between her legs. I don't touch her yet. I just hover, letting her feel my heat, letting her hear the rhythm of my breathing.
"Once you slip away from the party," I tell her, my voice a low rumble, “You’ll be blind to what’s happening everywhere else. If we tell you to stop, you stop. If we tell you to run, you run. If we tell you to come..." I lean down, brushing my lips against the pulse point of her neck. "...you come."
She gasps, her hips bucking instinctively. "Is that an order?"
