Blind Side – Chapter 3

You stood alone in your closet, wearing nothing but a silk
dressing robe, surrounded by outfits and accessories for every occasion.
Flowing gowns, skin-tight workout gear, mix-and-match business attire, and a
ski suit you wore for all of five minutes – you’d honestly rather freeze than
look like a walking marshmallow. You never thought this day would come, but
here you are. Hundreds of options, and nothing to wear.

Your closet alone was the size of most New York apartments. As you
stood at the door, to your right and left were double tiers of hanging clothes
of all kinds, sorted first by color then length. Surrounding the door were
cubbies filled with designer shoes, mostly pumps with at least a 4-inch heel. At
5 feet, 3 inches tall, there’s no way you’d be caught dead in flats. You wander
to the marble island in the middle of the room, wherein lies your delicates and
various accessories. Even if you don’t know what to wear, you can at least
decide on lingerie. You pick up a pure white lace bra with matching boyshort
panties. First decision, made. Simple. Now for the rest…

It wasn’t your fault this was so difficult. Thomas hadn’t told you
where he’d be taking you. You’d called the other night, just as he instructed, and you agreed he could take
you on a date. A day date. Nothing serious. The only problem was, he’d left out
all the other details. He said you could use a good surprise, which was
honestly so annoying. You’re a planner, for this reason exactly – if you didn’t
know where you were going, how could you possibly choose what to wear?

“Wear
something you can move in.” What does that even mean?

Athletic shirt and yoga pants? You could certainly move in it, but
it’s inappropriate for a date. Mini skirt – too risky. Although he did seem to enjoy it in his office the other day. Strappy
sundress? That could work. It’s nice
enough for a day date, but even if he had you riding bikes, god forbid, it’s
long enough to cover what you need covered. Perfect.

You throw it on and walk to the other end of the closet. Surrounded
by bright lights and three full-length mirrors, you check your look from every
angle to make sure it’s perfect. You’re good to go, and not a moment too soon.
Just as you’re grabbing your favorite wedges, you hear the doorbell. That must
be Thomas.

Riding in his Jaguar, you feel the most comfortable you’ve felt
with him since this whole thing
started. He came to your door to pick you up, still not mentioning where you
were off to. But he did open the car door for you, which was basically a
requirement in your book. You’d never taken the time to notice what a gentleman
he was.

Even the way he drove put you at ease. A little fast, sure; he
glided in and out of the left lane, passing anyone that came along. But as fast
as he was going, he wasn’t aggressive. Just… assertive. He made his presence
known, but didn’t threaten you with it. That had certainly been your experience
with him. A sharp dressed man who didn’t lack confidence, and had no qualms
about telling you what to do. Still, you didn’t doubt he would back off as soon
he got the feeling you weren’t interested. The fact remained that you were,
indeed, very interested.

“Do you have any guesses as to where we’re going?” he asked.

You looked around, noticing that you were moving further and
further away from the city. Skyscrapers were quickly turning to suburbs.

“Well… we’re obviously leaving the city. You said I’d need to be
able to move, but wouldn’t say how much,” you added a sideways glance in his
direction. “The best guess I have so far is a picnic, perhaps? But we could
have just gone to Central Park for that.”

He chuckled at the bit of attitude he felt from his passenger. “I planned
something a bit more interesting than a picnic.” He slowed down, taking an exit
off the freeway. “An exercise in control. Or more accurately, in losing
control.”

Losing
control? What kind of date is this?

Your look of confusion turned to complete and utter bewilderment
as he stops the car in front of a hockey rink. He outright laughed at your expression
as he unbuckled his seatbelt and came around to open your door.

“Trust me. Please,” he said, holding his hand out for yours.

You stood at the little gate, watching Thomas skate around in
circles. If this was some kind of test, you were already failing. You could
barely stand, let alone skate. Your 6-inch spikes were a breeze compared to
these blades of embarrassment. He skated over to you, holding out his hands as
an offering of help.

“I won’t let you fall.”

You held tight to the guard rail, your ankles shaking. “I’ve never
done this before. I don’t know how,” you said, feeling like a child.

“Then we’ll take it slow. Just hold onto me instead of the rail.
Baby steps. That’s all you have to do.”

You were toe to toe with him now, his skates on the ice and yours
on the carpet. You take your left hand off the rail and slowly place it in his.
With a deep breath, you do the same thing with your right. Steadying yourself
in his hands, you glance up to see him looking into your eyes. His face breaks
into a smile as he says, “You did it.”

His smile lit a fire in your chest. You squeezed his hands tighter
as you step out onto the ice. The slick surface took you by surprise – just holding
yourself up was suddenly twice as hard. How in the world were you ever going to
glide?

“Now, darling, this is the part where you must exercise losing
control. The more tense you are, the harder it’s going to be. So just try to
relax,” he said, his voice soothing.

You close your eyes for a moment, taking another breath to steady
yourself. You’d never encountered anything in life that you weren’t able to
conquer; you could do this, too. Maybe you haven’t been ice skating before, but
you’ve seen plenty of people do it. It’s just one foot in front of the other.
You can do this.

“Do I just… walk?” you asked, holding onto his hands for dear
life.

“It’s even simpler than that. Do you ever swim laps? At the end of
the pool you flip around, using the wall to kick off?”

Swimming.
Why couldn’t we have gone swimming? “Yes…”

“It’s just like that. Use your back foot to kick off, and keep
your front foot as straight as possible. Give it a try, love. I won’t let go.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

You take a deep breath, throwing caution to the wind. What’s the worst that could happen? I fall over
and he sees my panties? He’s already felt them. You get your front foot in
position, and kick off. You gasp as you actually start to move – you’re
skating!

“You’ve got it! Look at you!”

First your right foot, then your left. You wobble a little as you
start to slow down. Now you see what he means – slow and steady is not the way
to skate. You had to lose control – be quick, carefree. No wonder you’d never
done it before.

Thomas glanced up at the booth. You didn’t even notice before, but
someone was up there. Had they been watching this whole time?

“Hey Mike, you got that playlist I sent you?” he hollered.

“Sure thing, Mr. Hiddleston!”

Just then, music filled the arena. It was a gentle, jazzy tune you’d
never heard before, but somehow made you think of Thomas. It suited him.

“My turn?” he asked.

“I’m supposed to help you now?” you said, wondering if he hadn’t
noticed his fingers turning blue.

“No, darling. It’s my turn to lead.”

He pulled you closer to his chest, having you take a slightly wider
stance so he could skate between your feet. He placed one of his hands around
your waist, holding the other up as if you were dancing together. As he gently
pushed off, he felt your grip on him tighten. You were caught off-guard by the
strange sensation of skating backwards; with one glance into his eyes, your apprehension melts away. You were practically floating over the ice, safe and sound in his arms.

“I told you I wouldn’t let you fall, remember?”

You nodded.

“How am I doing so far?” he
asked.

“If you mean physically, you’re doing very well. If we’re talking emotionally,
I think I may have already fallen for you, Thomas,” you said, glancing up at
him expectantly.

He glided to a stop at the center of the ice. The world could have
come crashing down and in that moment, you’d only see each other. He was
holding you so tight to his own body, you could barely feel the ice beneath
your skates.

“And I for you, my love.” His head tilted to the side as he leaned
down to kiss you – slowly, softly, passionately. You were completely vulnerable
in his arms, and for the first time, you weren’t scared. You were ready to give
yourself over to him; you trusted this man, wholly and completely.

He rested his forehead against yours as you both savor the moment,
romantic music playing overhead. He leaned back, holding your face in his hands. With a cheeky grin, he asks, “So… since this trip went so well, how about next time, we go
skydiving?”

“Thomas!” you scream in
complete shock, pulling his hands down and away from your face. The momentum
slides you away from him, causing you to lose your balance and fall straight onto
your bottom. You both burst into laughter; he tries to help you stand, but you’re
laughing too hard. He sits down next to you until you can catch your breath.

“I never know what to expect with you, Thomas. But I love it. And
I love you.”

Alright y’all. This is the last time I’ll post about this I promise lmao
I’ve been told my person tags didn’t work in the original post, so I’m going to post them here.

> Blind Side Chapter 2 has been posted! <

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Blind Side – Chapter 2

You sat on the balcony of your Manhattan apartment, a glass
of chilled rosé in your hand. It was a warm summer night, and you had come out
to watch the sun set. Not your usual cup of tea, but you had to do something.
It had been a week since your encounter in his office, and you still couldn’t
get Mr. Thomas W. Hiddleston off your mind.

You take a deep breath, closing your eyes as you sink into
your chaise. A warm breeze blows your chiffon robe open, exposing a delicate
lace bustier. In your opinion, lingerie is too often wasted on a man. They look
at it, and only see something in the way of your naked body. They pull at it,
stretch it out, sometimes tearing it to get at the prizes underneath. Your
lingerie was too expensive to be treated in such a way. You wore it for
yourself – to feel beautiful and sexy.

Tonight, though, the prevailing thought in your mind was how
badly you wanted Thomas to rip it off.

Up in the clouds on the 44^th floor, your mind
starts to wander.

How would he do it?
Would he take his time, unwrapping me like a precious gift? Pausing to take in
the sight of my stunning body? Would he be too impatient to even take it off,
pulling my bustier to the side as his mouth waters for my perky breasts?
Maybe he wouldn’t bother with my top at all, taking me right here on your
balcony – kneeling between my legs so he can devour me like a dripping piece
of forbidden fruit.

Your free hand finds its way between your legs. You pull
your panties to the side as another breeze passes through; as the warm air
grazed your damp skin, a chilling sensation passed through your entire body and
you desperately wanted more.

You glanced over at your phone – you could call him. He said you could call him. Practically
begged, poor man. But you couldn’t give him the satisfaction. Not after the way
he treated you – dismissing you from his office like that. You simply wouldn’t
allow it.

Just then, you phone started ringing. Startled as if someone
had seen you in this compromising position, you sit up and tie your robe,
taking a moment to compose yourself before answering.

It was him.

You arrive at your future ex-husband’s lawyer’s office
at 8 the following morning. Thomas had called to let you know a settlement had
finally be reached – all you had to do was sign the papers. You reach the
conference room to see Chris, his lawyer, and Thomas making sure everyone had
their own copies of the paperwork. All eyes were on you ask you walked through
the tall glass door.

“Good morning, Christopher,” you said, taking your seat next
to your lawyer. “Mr. Hiddleston.”

You couldn’t look him in the eye. The past week left
you feeling frazzled, unstable. All the wild thoughts racing through your mind
left you feeling like you couldn’t trust yourself around him. You tightly clasp
your hands together, resting them on the conference table. You were worried
where they might wander if you didn’t keep them both in sight. You take a
breath, arching your back for effect. You wanted Chris to see exactly what he
was losing today – particularly, his two favorite things sitting in your bra.

Finally, things got started. It took an hour and a half for
the lawyers to explain every aspect of the settlement to you and Chris, pausing
for signatures on every page. They had already flagged and highlighted where
you needed to sign, and yet Thomas kept reaching over, pointing out the exact lines that needed your attention. Don’t touch
me. Maybe you were just imagining things, but it was all you could do to
keep yourself from swatting his hand away. It was impossible to concentrate with his skin so close to yours.

The
settlement itself was pretty straightforward – things were rolling along
smoothly until they reached the infidelity clause. You stared at Chris through
the entire discussion, not blinking even once. You knew he saw you, but he
didn’t dare look you in the eye. Not after what he did. He just sat there, like
the coward he was, pouting like a sad little puppy dog. Great actor, indeed.

The
bottom line was you got to keep your dignity and half his money, and he got to
keep the apartment you shared – you didn’t want to spend another minute in it anyway,
thinking about all the places he fucked that girl. The day you found out he was
having an affair, you had come home from spin class and found them in the
shower – the one you use every damn day. They could have at least had the
decency to use the guest bath.

The
fact is, none of it matters anymore. At the end of the day, you’ll be a single
woman again. To top it all off, you’ll be $7 million dollars richer than you were this morning. Not bad for
11 months of marriage. When everything was said and done, he apologized – again
– for hurting you. You couldn’t manage to look at me all morning, and now
you want to apologize?

“I’m not hurt, Christopher. Just disappointed. I should have
known better than to expect anything else from you.” Without so much as a goodbye, you pick up your Chanel handbag and
exit the conference room. You needed to wait for your copies of the settlement
before leaving, so you head to the ladies’ room, stomping your Manolos across
the tiled floor.

You walk through the door, immediately falling into a soft,
cushioned chair in the vanity area. You’d drop dead before you used a public
restroom, but you need a minute to yourself. You take a gulp of air, realizing
just how hard it was to breath in that room. Maybe you were more hurt than you
realized – there was no way a man you aren’t even interested in could elicit
this type of response from you. You’ve simply spent too much energy thinking
about Christopher and that perky little bimbo.

I’m sure his dick will
be very happy with her.

You’re not one to sit and mope, so you try to perk up a bit.
Irritation and exhaustion were no excuse for poor posture. You glance in the
mirror, picking up your compact to touch up your powder. One last deep breath and you’re ready to face
the world again. You slip your compact back into your purse and stand to leave.

Your hand reaches for the door when someone pushes it open
from the other side – it was Thomas.

“This is the ladies room!” Appalled at his behavior, your
mouth hangs open. All he can do is shake his head as he approaches you.

“Oh, shut up,
woman.” He takes you by the waist, pushing you up against the wall. Before you
can protest, his tongue is in your mouth. It’s soft and warm as it explores
your mouth. You want to close your lips – to push him away and berate him for
his behavior.

But suddenly, you’re weak. You couldn’t possibly push him
away; you’re barely holding yourself upright. Instead of closing your lips,
they’re opening wider. Your tongue is suddenly curious about his. They finally meet,
dancing in the waves of your attraction. He pulls back, but you follow, not ready for the moment to
end. He places his hands on each side of your face, gently holding you at bay.

“You didn’t call me.” He says, brooding. That tight, fluttering
feeling in your chest is back.

“I was going to, but I… I wasn’t sure if I should,” You
could hear the words coming out of your mouth, but you weren’t sure who was
saying them. You were lost in the blue of his eyes. You’ve never seen anything
with so many shades of beautiful pigment, each deeper than the last.

“Well, then let me be clear, darling. You will call me.
Tonight.” He finally released your face, sliding his hands up your dress and
around your hips as he kissed you again, slower this time. He sighs, his voice full of frustration as his hands
graze the layer of lace beneath your flowing skirt.

“Of all the days for you to
wear panties,” he says, giving your butt a sharp squeeze. Without another word,
he walks over to the vanity. He wipes the smeared lipstick away from his mouth
and headed towards the door, winking as he exits.

He has, once again, left you stunned. You pull your skirt
back down and straighten your hair. This feeling in the pit of your stomach –
you aren’t sure what it is. You’ve never felt it before. But it only happens
when you’re around this man; this one, incredible man… The minute I’m done being Mrs. Evans, he comes along and makes me wish
I were Mrs. Hiddleston.

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, @keldachick, @frenchfrostpudding

Blind Side – Chapter 1

The sign on the door said “Thomas W. Hiddleston, Attorney at
Law.” You were familiar with this, of course, but you liked the new lettering.
It was elegant, yet somehow still conveyed that he could get every last dime
out of your cheating husband. Which was why you kept coming back.

You stepped through the door, greeted by his feeble little
assistant. Why she dressed like a nun on hiatus you’ll never understand. Grey
cardigan buttoned to the top, plain black skirt reaching practically to her
calf – what kind of message was she trying to send to the world? “Do not
enter”?

“I have a three o’clock appointment.”

“Yes, ma’am. One moment,” she said, dropping her pen and
heading for his door to let him know you’ve arrived. A moment later she’s back.

“Mr. Hiddleston will see you now,” she said, avoiding eye
contact all together. You roll your eyes behind your Gucci sunglasses and head
for the door.

You walk through the doorway to see your lawyer sitting on
his desk, looking out the window as he talks on the phone. He gets to his feet
when he hears you come in, trying to get off the phone. “Yes – I’ll call you
later, Mum. My favorite client is here,” he said with a wink.

You remove your sunglasses and wink back, shrugging out of
your fur coat. “Hello, Mr. Hiddleston.”

“Mrs. Evans!” he says, inviting you to have a seat. “How are
you today?”

“I’ll be better when I’m a “Ms.” again, Thomas. How soon can
you make that happen?”

He pulls a file from his desk drawer and puts on his
glasses. He reads for a moment, making note of a highlighted portion on the
second page.

“Well, the terms of your prenuptial agreement are fairly
straightforward – infidelity on the part of either individual could be grounds
for complete invalidation of the contract.”

“Meaning?” you ask, raising an eyebrow. The smirk on your
face tells Tom you know exactly what that means. He’d expect so, considering
this was your third divorce.

“Meaning, Mrs. Evans, that you are completely within your
rights to demand a settlement for any… um, emotional turmoil this may have
caused you.”

A satisfied smile spread across your face. That’s what you
liked to hear.

“You’re just
wonderful, Thomas. I don’t know where I’d be without you,” you said, holding
his gaze as you uncross your legs. You notice his eyes drift south as you take
your time crossing them again. Did I
forget to wear panties today?

He gets up from his desk, his face breaking into a sideways
grin. He saunters over to you, sitting on the corner of his desk with his hands
folded in front of his lap. “What exactly are you looking for, love? What do
you need that none of your husbands have been able to provide?”

You ponder this for a moment. You’ve never really stopped to
think about it; marriage has never seemed like a permanent situation for
someone such as yourself – you were always looking for what was new and
exciting. Your husbands have, thus far, been temporary company until you
ultimately find yourself bored and in need of a change. That’s when you put on
your favorite fuck me pumps, pairing them with this season’s hottest little
black dress and your signature fur coat. You’d head to the most exclusive bar
in the city, never being there long before you met someone new, beginning the
cycle again.

“I’m not one to settle, Thomas, unless it’s in court. I get
bored easily. My latest groom was dull from the start, I should have known
better. He was too soft. Always trying to appease me, but never taking
control.”

“So, authority is what you’re after?” he asked, his voice
suddenly quiet, intriguing.

“It would be something new, that’s for sure.” You glance up,
suddenly noticing the lust building in his eyes. You’re surprised to find your
heart beating faster, your breath catching in your chest. Why was your heart
choosing now, this moment, to find this man so attractive? You’ve met with him
many times before, always looking to free yourself from the confines of
marriage. It had never crossed your mind that he’d have something more to
offer.

He reaches out, taking your hand and pulling you closer to
him. In one swift movement, he plucks you from your chair, your heels clinking
on the tiled floor. He steps forward, bringing your face within inches of his
own. He’s looking at you with such intensity, you take a step backward.

“What’s the matter?” he said, taking a step closer as you
take another step back. “Not used to a man willing to take control?”

“N-no, not really…” you trail off, your back suddenly
pressed up against his bookcase. There’s nowhere left for you to go. He presses
his body against yours, sliding his knee between the two of yours. Your black
mini skirt bunched at the top of your legs, very nearly exposing your lower
lips. He bites his lip as he leans into your neck, nuzzling the hair away from
your ear.

“When you think you’re ready for a real man, you know where
to find me,” he said, gently nibbling your earlobe before stepping away. He
turns to shuffle your papers back into his folder, leaving you in stunned silence.
You try to catch your breath, but for the life of you, can’t take your eyes off
him.

He turns to back to you, seemingly surprised to see you
still standing in his office. “That will be all, Mrs. Evans.”

You’ve never been treated this way in your life. No one dismisses you. But – for some reason –
you gather your things. You put on your sunglasses, pick up your coat, and walk
out. You exit his office, making it all the way into the elevator before the
first thought manages to form in your mind. Four
husbands and it’s a lawyer who brings me to my knees.