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ChapterEight
Ava
When I wake up the next morning, Roman’s gone, but he’s left me a note and a covered platter that’s filled with scrambled eggs, toast, oatmeal, a pot of hot water, and an assortment of fruit.
I’ll pick you up at ten o’clock.Dress casually.I like punctuality.Don’t make me wait.
I’ve never met anyone so bossy before.He’s lucky he’s gorgeous as sin, or he’d probably never get a date.Maybe that’s why he’s on the show.Then I remember the way he kissed me, and the way fire seems to roar through my veins when he so much as touches me.On second thought, I doubt he has trouble getting any woman he wants.
He hadn’t touched me again last night.He’d told me to make myself comfortable and get some sleep, and then he’d left.To my relief, he didn’t have one of the suites with the cages built into the bed, and I’d gotten ready for bed and slipped under the satin sheets alone.But he must have come back at some point, because there’s a slight indentation in the bed next to me, and I can still faintly smell the clean, woodsy scent that is distinctly his.
I eat, shower, and get dressed, and I’m ready to go when he lets himself into the suite promptly at ten o’clock.
The sight of him makes my heart stop.Although it’s been less than twelve hours since I’ve seen him, I’d almost forgotten just how gorgeous he is with those intense blue-gray eyes and perfect bone structure, and how he dominates a room simply by being in it.The air fairly crackles with his presence.He’s dressed more casually—no expensive, tailored suit today—but he still manages to look formal in dark slacks, a fitted T-shirt, and a blazer.I look down at the white denim shorts I’m wearing with a silky olive-colored tank top and sandals and wonder if I should have dressed up more.How does he always manage to make me feel like he’s got the upper hand?
“I thought you said casual,” I say apologetically.
His gaze roves over me, lingering on my lips, before he says simply, “You look perfect.Are you ready?”
We ride the elevator back down to the lobby, and he takes my hand lightly in his as he leads me out the glass doors.I can feel the electricity again at the touch of his hand, warm and strong, as his fingers close firmly around mine.
“I thought we weren’t allowed to leave the property?”I ask in confusion.
“It’s okay,” he says, pulling me toward a limousine that is parked in the circular driveway.“Trust me.”
I balk.“I don’t want to get disqualified.”
He stops and rests one hand on my hip, turning me toward him.His gaze is searing as he traces the shell of my ear lightly with his finger, and this time the wings of a million tiny butterflies flutter in my belly.
“Trust me,” he says again.“That’s what this is about, remember?”
“Right.”
He opens the door for me, and I climb into the limousine, settling myself on the rich leather seat as Roman gets in behind me and closes the door.I buckle my seatbelt as the limousine slowly pulls away from the Helix.
I stare out the window at the bustling activity of the strip, studiously avoiding looking at Roman.His overwhelming presence fills the small space of the car, and I suddenly feel far more shy and awkward with him here in the limo on a date than I did last night when I was half-naked in his hotel room.
“Have you ever been to Las Vegas?”
I turn back to him, and my breath catches.He’s freaking beautiful.“No, I haven’t.”
“Good,” he says with a small smile of satisfaction.He reaches into the inside pocket of his blazer and pulls out a black cloth.“I’m going to blindfold you now,” he adds.
“You’re ...what?”
Before I can react, he places the silky fabric over my eyes and firmly ties it into place behind my head, throwing me into darkness.He’s so close I can feel the slight rasp of the fabric of his blazer against my cheek and smell the clean soap and woodsy scent of him.The awareness that seems to charge the air whenever I’m close to him is almost crushing now, and I suddenly feel even more off balance.It’s disconcerting not being able to see, and for a second, I wonder if I’m insane.I don’t even know Roman; for all I know he could be taking me to some remote location to have his way with me.
Inexplicably, my core tightens slightly at the thought of being at his mercy, images of me naked under him as he takes what he wants popping up unwanted in my head.I mentally shake my head.What is the matter with me?The show hasn’t even started, and I’m already becoming totally warped.
“Do you always blindfold your dates?”I ask.I don’t have anything to compare it to, but I’m pretty sure this isn’t how most first dates go.When he doesn’t answer, I say, “I bet you scare a lot of girlfriends off this way.”
“I don’t have girlfriends, and I don’t date,” he states matter-of-factly.“I have submissives, and I fuck.”
That shuts me up, and we drive in silence for a while, and I’m once again wishing I didn’t have this damned blindfold on so I could see his expression.He settles his hand firmly on my bare thigh, and I can feel the heat of it burning my skin like a brand.The message is unmistakable; I’m his to touch as he wishes.
“You wanted to know me,” he says finally.“When you can’t see, you have to rely on your other senses.You will begin by learning my voice.By feeling my presence even when you can’t see me.”
I don’t tell him I already know the smell of him, and that the rasp of his voice makes me feel things I’ve never felt before.I’m aware of him in a way that’s almost physically painful.
