Three Little Mistakes (Blindfold Club 3)

Wasn’t that what I did to her? Pushed until we discovered something new? I squeezed my grip on her fingers, but remained, forcing myself to endure the submissive position. Her undulating body had my pulse roaring in my head. Soft, warm breasts flattened against me when her tongue was tangled with mine again, her damp hair falling in my eyes.

The burn inside me grew to an inferno. I needed more, I needed her to . . . I needed . . .

I kept our hands twined together as I sat up, forcing her upright, and twisted her arms behind her back. My mouth slammed into her throat and from beneath, I drove up into her. The legs around me shook. Her whole body trembled as I plunged inside and retreated, faster and faster until we were gasping loudly for breath, drowning in each other.

Her head tipped back and I set my forehead against her neck, fighting the swell inside as we connected again and again. Humid air dragged through my lips. I released one of her hands and it was instantly on my head, holding onto me, her fingers clutching hard in my hair.

The thunder boomed outside and shook the walls, but we didn’t slow down. It just kept building, and building.

“I love you,” she cried. “Oh my God, I love you.”

Her orgasm burst. It tore from her mouth and her body, shattering all around it, sending me over like a shockwave. Unimaginable pleasure sliced me into a million pieces and everything poured out into her, maybe even my soul.

A single breath.

Then another.

Her shuddering slowed to a stop as the fire in me was finally satiated, and dread replaced it.

I love you.

It echoed in my ears and had sent me soaring, but I hadn’t said it back. Confusion swirled and the words stuck in my brain, which was unable to manage anything. Noemi Rosso was in love with me.

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

She climbed off and lay down, pulling the covers up to her neck. Her hand searched for mine, located it, and tugged me. I complied, spooning against her, but I couldn’t breathe. What the hell was I going to do?

“Noemi,” I whispered over the rain.

“Ssh, I said no talking.”

Christ, I didn’t sleep at all.

chapter

TWENTY-SEVEN

NOEMI

I woke up alone. I lay on the sagging mattress and tried not to cry. What the hell had I done? I’d gone and screwed everything up by opening my stupid mouth.

At least it wasn’t a lie.

I was hopelessly in love with Joseph. I felt like I could walk into a room filled with a thousand Paytons, and he’d only see me. I was inexperienced, but I wasn’t naive. I was sure he’d run screaming away if I used the L word, and apparently, I had been right.

I dug clothes out of the suitcase and pulled them on slowly, my body all out of sorts. Like I was hungover from what we’d done last night, or going through the beginning stages of withdrawal, which made more sense. I’d told him I was addicted.

Joseph sat outside on the top of a picnic table and his feet on the bench, his broad back turned to me, but I could see he was talking on the phone. Two Styrofoam cups rested on the table, steaming into the morning air. One was his coffee, and the other water, with an unopened tea bag pinned beneath it. Those little details got to me, something as simple as him remembering I preferred tea to coffee, or discovering a new bottle of my brand of shampoo in his shower.

My heart ached for him, and worse at knowing he didn’t feel the same. I foolishly hoped someday he would. A deep breath filled my lungs and I plastered a light, pleasant expression on my face so as not to give away the turmoil inside. I’d pretend like nothing happened.

A stick cracked under my foot as I approached, and he turned. “Okay, I need to go. Thanks,” he said, pressing a button on the phone, and pocketed it. “Sorry, I had a work call and didn’t want to wake you.”

“Good morning.” It came out too bright and not at all natural.

Joseph’s gaze turned suspicious. It was terribly awkward, standing across from him after I’d put myself out there and not gotten the response I’d wished for. He clearly cared for me, I knew that, but it was still tough to swallow.

“Is that for me?” I pointed to the cup, but as I reached for it, he trapped my hands.