Three Guilty Pleasures (Blindfold Club 6)

“Is it in town?” she asked, trying to stave off disappointment.

“Yes.”

“We could be done by then.”

She did her best to sound convincing, but I wasn’t fooled. “I know how television works. Unless it’s live, shooting always falls behind schedule.”

“How long does a game take?”

“A match is eighty minutes, plus ten minutes at the half. With penalties and the clock stopping on injuries, it’s around three hours.”

“Oh.” She deflated, her shoulders slumping.

“Don’t misunderstand, I’d love to help you, but I don’t want to let my team down.”

r /> Her expression was resigned as she stared at her drink, but I could see her mind working. She didn’t want to give up, and I admired that.

“Right.” She brightened abruptly. “How about we play it by ear, then? If I make it to the judges by the time your game starts, I can ask to go last, and maybe you can come back after.”

“That sounds like a long shot.”

“It’s better than no shot.” She grinned. “This whole thing is a long shot, so what do you say? You want to take a chance with me?”

I wanted to, in more than one way. I gazed at this beautiful woman, who was looking back at me like I could be her hero. All I had to do was say yes.

“Sure,” I said, and when excitement lit up her face, I felt ten feet tall.

-11-

Tara

After Grant paid for our drinks, he asked to see me home, and we shared a cab to my apartment. He left the meter running with the taxi driver and carried the loaner cello while he walked me to the main door.

I slipped my key in the top lock and let him follow me into the entryway. With the sun down, and my dance costume, it was cold outside in the wind, and I had the strong suspicion he was going to want to kiss me goodnight.

When it came to sex, I didn’t mind an audience, but a first kiss was different, far more intimate, and I didn’t want the skeevy cab driver watching. He’d been eyeballing me in the mirror most of the ride here.

“Thank you for the drink,” I said, ambling my way toward my front door. The apartment building was like a condo. It had two floors with two units on each side, and a large set of stairs running up one wall. I was on the ground floor and gestured to my door, tucked at the end in the shadow beneath the stairs. “That’s me.”

Grant walked beside me, matching my hesitant pace, like he was as unsure as I was about what happened next.

I hadn’t truly dated in three years, which meant I hadn’t had a real kiss in that amount of time. Yes, men kissed me sometimes at the blindfold club, but that didn’t count because those were empty, meaningless things. Silas and Regan’s kisses didn’t count either. Those were about pleasure, not emotion or connection.

I’d gone three long years without romance, and as I stood on my front doormat, I was suddenly painfully and achingly aware. It made my voice falter. “And thank you for saying yes to—”

“Have dinner with me tomorrow night.”

The submissive in me responded with all she had, eager. “Yes, sir.”

A confused, slightly embarrassed smile flicked across lips as he propped the cello against the wall. “Sorry, I didn’t mean for that to sound like an order.” He raked his fingers through his dark hair, and when he finished, he leaned in, setting his palm flat against my door, right beside my head. Even though his thick arm trapped me in place, his dominating body language wasn’t threatening.

It was fucking inviting.

His tone softened until it was buttery smooth. “Can I take you out after the performance tomorrow?”

Would that be leading him on? I’d love for this thing between us to go somewhere, but what were the chances he’d allow that when he found out what I did every Friday and Saturday night?

What I wanted and what I knew I was supposed to do were in conflict, tearing me up.