Page 118 of Three Sweet Nothings (The Blindfold Club)

Chapter

FORTY-THREE

Kyle was out of his seat in a flash. “Ruby.”

His palms were warm on the sides of my face, his lips warmer still against my mouth. His kiss was overpowering. Emotion swept through me in a deluge, flowing outward to the tips of my fingers and toes.

He pushed me back into the seat cushion, not letting up on his devastating kiss. The angle was adjusted, deepening the connection between us, and his tongue pressed against the seam of my lips. Was he asking permission or tempting me with more? Didn’t matter. I parted my lips and stroked my tongue against his. It was slow, and wicked, and I felt it all the way in my center.

I was sure in this moment I’d been put on this earth just to kiss him.

My hands found their way inside his suit jacket. I wanted it fucking gone. All his clothes, any barrier between us needed to be removed. The two days without him felt longer than the five years, and it seemed to be the same for him. He was passionate. Desperate.

His thumbs brushed over my cheeks, wiping away my tears, and then one hand traveled backward to gently grip a fistful of hair at the nape of my neck, tugging me back so his searing mouth could further claim me. A small action, but it lit a fire in me like a powder keg. Now that I’d had a taste of his domination, I always craved it.

“Your bourbon and Coke, sir.”

The server’s pointed tone wasn’t lost on either of us. Even though we were in the back of the place, Kyle was standing over me and we’d had our lips locked in a kiss that bordered on indecent.

As she departed, he straightened and peered down at me, his hold still in my hair and his power poured over every inch of my body.

“Why’d you order a drink?” I whispered. “All I want to do is take you home and let you fuck me into tomorrow.”

His smile was kind of evil and insanely hot. “We have business to discuss first.”

I sighed as he let go and sat back down, all the way on the other side of the booth that had once felt tiny but now was much too big. I’d dropped the partnership agreement on the table when the waterworks started, brought on by the last sentence of the contract.

He’d put the biggest term in the final paragraph of our last partnership agreement, so I had chosen to start reading there this time. Before, he’d attempted to leash our emotions and prevent our relationship from going too far. This new one had very different language.

It stated that in the event of marriage, the partnership agreement would continue to apply.

Marriage.

He saw a future for us, the same one I hoped for someday, which neither of us had said out loud. I picked up the contract and began to read from the beginning while Kyle watched and sipped on his drink. I read it twice, set it down, and lifted my gaze to meet his.

“Thoughts?” He asked it casually, but I could tell he was far more interested than he let on.

This new partnership agreement was shorter. It stated in any situations of confusion, or if one partner acted rashly, they were required to take five minutes to organize themselves and then communicate with the other. If this didn’t happen, there would be consequences. Even punishment, if necessary, to negatively reinforce that the behavior didn’t continue. It would be up to their partner to decide what form of punishment, and how much.

So if I lost my head as I seemed to do around him, I’d have to calm down and speak to him like a fucking adult, or . . .? The image of me bent over his lap, his hand preparing to strike my bare ass, sent a shiver of pleasure through me. Only, he wouldn’t give me what I wanted as negative reinforcement, would he? Maybe he’d withhold his kink instead.

“I like this,” I said finally. Who was I kidding? I fucking loved it, but tried to keep my cool. This agreement was a fail-safe. If I lost my damn mind, it at least required him to stick around long enough to punish me. It all but bound us together and forced me to be rational.

“Is it retroactive?” I asked, nervous.

Surprise darted through his eyes, like he hadn’t thought about it. “We’ve both made mistakes. I think we should start fresh.”

“Oh.” A new wave of relief surged in me. “Good.” I stared at the neat type, my gaze tracing the last line and blurring a little with tears I blinked back. Enough crying, even if they were happy tears. My voice was thick with emotion. “Thank you for this.”

I’d never seen him look so surprised. It might have been silly to thank him for drafting a contract, but it meant so much more than the words on the paper. Our first agreement had been about sex, but this one was about love.

His voice was uneven. “I’m sorry it took me so long to present it to you.”

It wasn’t a marriage proposal, but he’d taken a leap and put himself out there with the last line. It made sense why he’d hesitated. “What changed your mind?”

“Changed my mind?”

“I mean, what made you decide to forgive me?”

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