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The slow rhythm of drums, building, growing stronger, picking up speed, but not out of control.
There were no vocals, just the pulsing beat blended with instruments.
“The quality is not great. I’m playing it on my phone.” She felt him move away, taking the music with him. “But will you dance?”
She followed the sound of his voice, turning and reaching for him. “You’ll join me?”
“Yes.”
His hand caught hers, drawing her close again. Since she was unable to see, her other senses came alive. Every touch was magnified. The drums sounded as if they were growing louder. Her hips moved, rocking to the beat. She raised her arms over her head, still holding his hand. She spun in a circle. Then her body found the pulse of the drums again. She moved freely with it.
“I must look—”
“So damn sexy,” he cut in, his voice low and rough.
“Oh.” Her movements slowed, her mind turning over those words. Sexy and sensual, living in the moment for the pure pleasure of it—that wasn’t her. But maybe just for tonight, here with him, lost in this fantasy world.
“Don’t stop.” It was spoken as a command, but with a hint of pleading.
“You said you would join me.” She found his chest, running her hands down over his rock-hard stomach, feeling the muscles she’d admired so many months ago through her computer screen. Grabbing a hold of his hips, she drew him near, demanding that he join her.
Widening his stance, capturing her leg between his as he held her close, Mark began to move. His body swayed in time with the music. Taking the lead, he guided her in a circle, maintaining contact always, his hands exploring, touching her lower back, traveling up to her waist, mapping her, but never losing the beat.
“You can dance,” she whispered, her body on fire.
“For you,” he said, his voice tight. “Yes.”
His words were like a drug—intoxicating, leading her down the path to wanting more. Allowing her core to brush up against his thigh, she felt herself growing wet with need. And she knew from the hardness brushing against her lower stomach that he felt it, too.
His hands found her breasts, and she arched, pressing her nipples against his palms. The drums sped up, growing louder, transforming from sensual to frantic. Amy felt her need growing with the music. She reached for the buttons of his flannel shirt. She released the first, ran her fingers down to the second as she continued to dance. Then the third and fourth, before she grew frustrated, pulling at his clothes.
Mark came to her rescue, removing his shirt. Her palms rested against his bare skin, feeling the dusting of hair. The music grew more frenzied as if pushing them forward. She found the button at the top of his jeans just as his hands tugged at her shirt.
Their movements matched the music as they stripped away clothes, each struggling to feel the other, but barely taking the time to explore before tearing off another layer until there was nothing between them—no barriers apart from her blindfold. The music peaked, the drumming reaching an impossible speed. And then it stopped.
Amy froze and reality descended. She stood naked and blindfolded, touching every inch of Mark’s body. There was no going back from this, not now.
But then the music interrupted, the track starting at the beginning, filling the space with an even rhythm. She knew now that it would grow and build until it exploded. Her pulse sped up. Excited. Ready.
As if he’d sensed her willingness to follow their dance to completion, Mark stepped back, holding her naked body close, taking her with him. He came to an abrupt halt, breaking free from the rhythm as he turned them around. Gently, he stepped into her, urging her back. She felt soft, cotton fabric against the back of her legs.
The bed. Amy stilled, her pulse the only part of her keeping time with the music. He guided her down, her body sinking into the feather bed covering the firm mattress beneath. Her legs hung over the edge.
“Mark?” she said, her voice barely audible over the music. Where was he? She couldn’t feel him. Her hands ran over the duvet cover, searching.
“I’m right here.” She felt the words against her ear. His legs brushed up against hers, and she felt him hovering over her.
His lips kissed her jaw, her neck, the slope of her breast, moving in time with the drums, dancing over her skin. He caught her breast in his mouth, his tongue swirling over her nipple. Pleasure ignited, rushing over her, through her. Part of her wanted to watch him, see the tension in his muscles as he held his torso above hers, licking and kissing his way down from her breasts, lower and lower...
But the blindfold offered the pretense of safety. This was a game, a fantasy—nothing more. It added an element of kink that turned her on, allowing her to imagine a gorgeous stranger worshipping her body, not a friend bound to the parts of her life she wished to set aside, at least for tonight. It reminded her that she was allowed this pleasure.
His hands touched her knees, drawing them apart. She didn’t need to see to know he’d lowered down to the floor, positioning his broad shoulders between her legs. Amy bit her lip, loving and hating the anticipation at the same time.
Fingers moved to her inner thighs. The drums raced forward, seemingly a step ahead of them. Amy lifted her hips off the mattress silently begging, her fingers clutching the comforter at her sides. His thumb brushed over her.
“I’m going to make you come,?
? he said as if she needed a warning, as if she wasn’t so far lost in her own need, she’d never find her way back without him.
