Imagine going on a winter vacation with Tom. You’re from a warm, tropical climate, so you’ve never experienced temperatures these frigid before. You walk around like a shivering mess until finally Tom mentions he has a way to keep you warm – and you don’t even have to take off your coat.

Blind Side – Chapter 3

Intro | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

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.”

Imagine running into Tom at a café in London. You popped in for directions, hoping someone could point you towards the palace. You ask a tall man in a suit if he could help you, not realizing it was Tom until he turned around. You apologize for bothering him, and all he can do is apologize for startling you. When he finds out what you need, he offers to walk you to the palace himself. That way, you can tell all your friends he took you to meet the Queen.

Imagine being insomnia buddies with Tom. You live next door to each other, and the way your apartments are laid out, your bedrooms share the same wall. If there’s ever a night you can’t sleep, you give it a gentle knock to see if he’s awake. If he is, you pad your way into his room for some cuddle time. Not being able to sleep with Tom is better than not being able to sleep on your own.

Imagine being caught out to dinner with Tom. You’ve been working together on a film, and everyone has had their suspicions that you’ve been dating. Both of you refuse to confirm anything, but then some paparazzi catch you kissing over dessert, dining al fresco on a beautiful summer evening. The photographers swarm within minutes, and all either of you can do is laugh. As hard as you try not to display your affections in public, the romantic atmosphere blew caution to the wind. At least now, your love is no longer confined to the four walls of your apartment.

Imagine living next door to Tom. One summer afternoon, you hear a commotion coming from the backyard and rush to see what was going on. You step out onto the patio to see Tom, soaking wet from head to toe. His new puppy had escaped into your backyard and fallen into the swimming pool. Unsure if the little thing could swim, Tom didn’t hesitate to dive in to rescue him. He apologizes, but naturally you tell him not to worry about it. Seeing him climb out of your pool, his drenched clothes clinging to his body, was oh so worth it.

Imagine going on vacation with Tom and his family. You’ve hardly had any time alone together since arriving, and you’re just starving for some one-on-one attention. Before breakfast, you tease him with a little nibble on his ear as your hand slides into his pajama bottoms. He’s hesitant at first – his family is in the next room, after all. It just takes a few more strokes to convince him that he needs you as much as you need him. He just makes you promise to be as quiet as possible so no one finds out.

Imagine Tom waking you up in the middle of the night. You were having another nightmare, calling out in your sleep for help. He tries to calm you down, holding you close, reminding you that you’re completely safe in his arms. Once he’s convinced you’ll be okay, he wanders down to the kitchen to make you a cup of hot tea to help you drift back to sleep.

Imagine introducing yourself to Tom. You’ll be directing a film he’s set to star in, so you figured you should get acquainted with each other. When you approach him, though, things don’t go as you’d hoped. He seems skeptical you’ll be able to handle him. Although he doesn’t doubt your abilities, he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to take direction from such a commanding woman without becoming attracted to you.

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.