“I couldn’t help it. I wanted to greet you when you walked in.” She hands me the blindfold. “But you can do what you want with this.”
My eyes drop, just for a second, to the hem of her shirt, then to her bare legs.
I see something in the way her breath catches. The way her shoulders straighten just a little. It feels like vulnerable desire.
“Forget the blindfold,” I mutter, throwing it down. “I want you to see this.”
I lift her up, but not all the way.
Not yet. I’m giving myself one last second to decide if this is real. Her hands come up first, faster than mine.
She grabs onto my shirt, bunching the fabric like she needs something solid to hold onto.
That’s what does it.
I cave, and pull her against me.
One of her hands slides to my waist, the other bracing against the wall beside her head.
And then I kiss her.
It’s the kind of kiss that’s been building all week.
She exhales against my mouth like she’s been holding that breath for days. Her fingers slide up into my hair, pulling me closer, like closer is even possible.
I break just enough to look at her. Her eyes are open, and they’re on me.
She’s not looking away this time.
“Still want the blindfold?” I murmur.
She shakes her head immediately.
“No.” She smirks. “I’ve been imagining this all week. Time for the real thing. I want to see you. And everything.”
That hits harder than anything.
My thumb brushes along her jaw, slower now.
Like I’m taking my time for the first time tonight.
“Good,” I say, grinning, then lift her up and put her over my shoulder.
“Logan!” She laughs. “Oh my God, are you kidnapping me?”
“Guilty,” I say as I march her up the stairs, down the hall, and let her down gently on her bed.
Then, as I hover over her, I kiss her again, like I’m trying to memorize it.
Her back presses into the mattress, but she leans into me like she’s the one closing the distance now.
“You meant what you said?” she asks.
“About respecting you?”
She nods slightly.
“Yeah,” I say. “I meant it.”
