Blindfolded (7 page)

“Yeah, personal preferences. I like it hot. Water, that is.”

“You are a giant tease,” Regan scoffed.

“You have no idea how much, girlie. Are you feeling a little more relaxed?”

“Yes, but I still don't like the fact that this is nonconsensual.”

“It isn't any longer. You gave your consent
and
your approval.”

“No, I didn't! I mean… geesh! You know what I mean.”

“That you want to be in control and aren’t? Talk to me, Regan… Why do you isolate yourself?”

“If you knew me as well as you think you do, you should know the answer.”

“Watch the sass. I think I do, but I want to hear it from you. It is important for you to verbalize this.”

“What are you? A psychologist or something?”

“Or something,” he answered.

Regan grumbled, turning her head away from his voice. She felt his hand grabbing hold of hers and lifting it from the water to place a flute of something cool in it.

“Champagne,” he said lightly. “It's early, but then, it's never too early for good champagne, is it?”

Regan forced a laugh. “Not according to my books.” She gulped down the entire flute in one large swallow.

He tsked, removing it from her hand to refill. “Slow down this time. Talk to me.”

“I'll make a deal with you. I'll tell you why I am the way I am if you tell me who you are.”

“Hmmm, how about this? You tell me what I want to know, and I won't spank your bare bottom for being so manipulative or demanding?”

“That's not fair!”

“Nope, it sure isn't… Especially since I like spanking you.”

“Well, I don't like it. It hurts.”

“Yes, it does, and you are one good little liar. Now talk to me and stop procrastinating.”

“Not much to tell. I've never been very social, and I’ve always been uncomfortable with my body. I had one real relationship that went south and then never had the desire to try again. Simple.”

“You
simplified
it, but it is not
simple
. As for your body, it's perfect. Round and soft in all the right places. Those of us who admire the female bottom appreciate such beauty.”

“My ex, Steve, always thought I was too fat.”

“Hence, the word
ex
. He was a fool, not knowing what was wrapped up in this perfect package, honey. How long were you with him?”

“Almost three years.”

“What attracted you to him?”

“He was nice-looking and, well… He acted like he was interested in me. At least, I
thought
he was. He was in the Army. Enlisted. He got transferred to the Middle East, and I never heard from him again.”

“Was he killed in action?”

“No, more like
missing
in action. Scuttlebutt suggests he moved on.” Her tone was bitter, remembering the phone call and how crushed she felt as roaring laughter in the background drowned out the blaring music.

“Do you miss him?”

“No. All we did was fight. We settled. I get that. He was as unhappy with me as I was with him. I just didn't believe I would get anything better.”

“Maybe he regrets his mistakes with you? What if… What if he asked to have you back?”

“Then I would firmly give him a flat out
no
. It's over, and I have no desire to be with him.”

“What if he changed?”

“Sorry, but no one changes that much. Besides,” she shrugged, “he loathed my vocation.”

“Your writing?”

“Yeah. He said he wasn't interested in smut. He always called me a sick pervert and thought I had better things to do with my brain than fantasize about something that no normal person would ever do.”

“Wow,” came the answer. “I would think most healthy, normal men would jump at the chance to have a girl who is a firecracker in bed.”

“His idea of sexual adventure was leaving a night light on.”

“What a fool.”

“I'm glad, though, that he never read my work. I don't think I could ever have trusted him with all my… my
secrets
. He enjoyed humiliating me too much.”

“It is a shame you wasted all that time on someone who could never appreciate you.”

“Hindsight is always twenty-twenty. How about you? Are you married? Have a dozen kids? Buried any bodies in the cellar recently?”

“I will answer these questions. No, no, and no.”

“You know, I want more than monosyllabic responses,” Regan grumped, finishing the rest of her glass. “More?”

“No, you've had plenty. No, I am not married. I was engaged a while ago, but things did not work out. I wanted more than a vanilla relationship, but did not know how to present that to her in a way that was… palatable. She was a bit on the conservative side.”

“So you kidnapped her and made her beg for your attention?”

“Cute. No. We parted our own ways. We still talk now and then. She used to teach college English. Now she's working somewhere in publishing.”

“Anyone I know?” Regan's ears perked up.

“Possibly, but then, everyone uses pseudonyms, even publishers.”

“Kennedy? She's my publisher.”

“Interesting name. Are you sure she's a woman?”

“Well, no… I've never spoken with her on the phone. I just assumed…”

“Be careful of assumptions, my pet. They often lead you down the wrong path. But I can tell you that my ex's name was not Kennedy.”

“But her pen-name…”

“I don't know what she goes by, to be honest with you. I’ve never tried to invade her privacy.”

Regan sighed with frustration, still knowing nothing relevant. She could tell he was sadistically amused by her attempts, though. “Fine. Make me beg.
Pleeeease
tell me who you are.”

“Does it really matter? If you know my name, or how I learned of you, would it change anything between us? Make you trust me more or help you open up to new experiences?”

“Well… no. But it would make me happy,” she offered a cheesy smile, hoping she looked cute despite the blindfold that was plastered to her face.

“Um… let me see… no. It would not make you happy. And yes, you’re adorable.”

Regan stuck her lower lip out in a pout, snapping as he pinched it between his fingers.

“Oooh, the puppy bites? I think we will explore that a little bit more…”

“Don't wanna,” Regan pouted, feeling very relaxed and uninhibited as the champagne and heat from the hot tub lulled her into a numb state.

“It doesn't matter if you want to. Should I give you a puppy name? Spot? For these?” he poked at her spattering of freckles across her shoulders.

“Hey!”

“Or, how about Woof?”

“Very funny. That was the name of your stupid old three-legged dog.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I guess you don't do him justice,” he teased, pinching the pouting lip again.

“That's mean!”

He laughed loudly, causing Regan to join him. It had been a long while since the last time she let herself laugh freely. She found it invigorating.

“I think we've been soaking long enough. You look like a prune. Stand up.”

“Master Jay? Could I be a kitten instead of a puppy?” Regan asked shyly, lifting her arms so he could pat her dry and then wrap the towel snuggly around her body.

“Would you really like to be my pet?” he asked kindly, with a slight hint of softness behind his words.

“It depends on what type of game you plan on playing. But, I do like when you call me that. I've never had a nickname,” Regan admitted sadly.

“Then yes, you will be my kitten. Follow me.”

“But… I can't see you. The blindfold…”

“Use your senses. I will not allow you to hurt yourself.”

“Please, let me touch your arm or something.”

“Regan, trust me.”

His firm, low voice filled her ears, and she gingerly took one step, then two, in the direction from where it had come. He led her in this manner through the house, up the stairs, and into the bedroom. Regan grasped the cold brass poster of her bed, physically shaken by the experience, yet inwardly proud that she had obeyed him without consequence.

Strange as it sounded, she felt satisfied. She had done well.

* * *

Laying her down upon the bed, he again secured her hands over her head and then covered her chilled body with a sheet. She felt him unbuckle the back of her blindfold and then rest his hand on her chest.

“Can I trust you to obey me and keep your eyes closed?”

Regan hesitated and then nodded. This could be her golden opportunity to lay her eyes upon her captor, yet she found herself reveling in the mystery behind his identity.

“I know it is tempting to look, but I am trusting you to keep your promise and not disappoint me.”

Regan did not know how she summoned the discipline to keep her eyes shut as he lifted the wet material from her face. She felt him pat her skin dry and then he leaned forward to plant tender kisses upon her eyelids.

Her curiosity overwhelmed her; she desperately wanted to see his face.
Would he be handsome or hideous?
Then she realized that it didn’t matter at this point—not as long as he treated her with such care. She relaxed and could sense his smile.

“You are such a good girl,” he praised again, petting the side of her face.

She turned her head in the direction of his palm and kissed it.

“That little gesture,” he said, “deserves a reward. I like it when my little pet is sweet. Relax your face as much as you can.”

Regan obeyed, trying not to move as she felt him press something around the outside of her eyes. The contraptions pulled a little bit, but were not uncomfortable. “What are they?”

“Eye patches. Arrr, ye look like a pirate’s booty now,” he growled, nipping her throat.

“Ye old scoundrel,” Regan snickered. “First ye steal me off me ship, and then you take liberties with my booty!”

“Aye, ye little sea witch, what a beautiful booty that be!” he laughed jovially, and then returned to his regular persona. “Go on and open your eyes. They should be quite comfortable.”

Regan obeyed. The patches were contoured so they did not press against her lids and were completely dark, prohibiting even ambient light from shining through.

“Where did you get these?” she asked softly.

“I thought you might like this kind of blindfold. They are used after severe eye injuries. Also in martial arts to simulate blindness.”

“Martial arts? Do you know any?” she asked slyly.

“Of course. Judo, Kenpo, Karate…” He began to make a list of every different type he could call to mind.

Regan wrinkled her nose, seeing he was, once again, teasing her. “I'm not going to win this game, am I? You’re just too smart for me.”

“Not too smart, darling.
Clever
. I am quite the expert in cleverness. Ask my mother.”

“I might just do that. What's her name, and how can I contact her?”

“Her name is Isabelle, and she lives with my dad in Beaufort.”

“I can tell you are smiling. You are very pleased with yourself, aren't you?”

“Immensely. Now, my love, I wish you to take a little nap and rest up. I have a full evening planned for you.”

“What are you up to?”

“About six-foot-one…
Oh
, you’re talking about my
plans
? I am going to discover some of your limits.”

Regan wrinkled her nose again.

A clue crossed one more person from her list… actually several people. She would have remembered this humor. She found humor immensely attractive and, in its own strange way, extremely sexy.

“Whatcha thinking?” he asked, running the back of his fingers down the side of her smooth cheek.

“Honestly? How little I paid attention to the people around me. How important things like the sound of their voice, accents, the smell of their skin, how they felt… I've really limited myself in so many things by just using my eyes, haven't I?”

“I will let you in on a little secret,” he said, lying down next to her and wrapping his arm around her waist. “I made that same mistake once as well. It almost cost me my life.”

“What happened?”

“I was doing something dangerous and made the fatal error. When I took martial arts, our sensei always said that we see not with our eyes, but with our minds. I was too busy looking with my eyes that I didn't hear a sound behind me. I was struck on the back of the head and, fortunately, woke in a hospital. The blow left me temporarily blind.”