| Chapter 9

Surrounded by piles of bridal photos and magazines, you sat at the dining room table, completely overwhelmed. You’d been looking at gowns of all styles, shapes, and colors for hours – mermaid and A-line, ivory and blush; there were simply too many options. This was usually when Thomas would swoop in, remarking how much he liked one of the options, and the decision was made. But you wanted the dress to be a surprise.

“Because this is the last wedding gown I’m ever going to wear, Mr. Hiddleston,” you said to the empty room. Suddenly remembering you had a lunch date with your

fiancé, you looked down at your diamond encrusted watch to see that you were late. “Oh, shit.”

You dumped a few magazines into your oversized bag, slipping into a pair of matching Louboutin pumps. Heading out the door, you sent a text to Thomas as the elevator carried you downstairs.

{On my way!! Distracted by a pile of gowns.}

{I’m sure whatever you choose will look lovely on the floor of our honeymoon suite.}

You arrived at Thomas’s office, strutting through the door. As soon as you realized the reception area was completely empty, an idea occurred to you. You unbuttoned your silk top, baring your black lace bra. With your hand on the doorknob, you took a deep breath in as you pushed the door wide open, striking a pose in the door frame.

“Hello, lover.”

It was only then that you noticed Thomas’s assistant sitting across the desk from him, getting redder by the second. You rushed to close your top as Thomas tried to hide his laughter.

“Are you speaking to me or Miss Trevor?” he spoke between giggles.

“Thomas, really!” you said as his assistant tried to squeeze past you in the doorway, desperate to leave the room. “Please don’t go. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine, really! We were finished,” she said, closing the door in a hurry.

You turn to Thomas, whose head was still in his hands, trying to hide his laughter. “It’s not funny!”

“On the contrary, my love. You always make an impression,” he said, finally composing himself enough to stand and pull out a chair for you. “Actually, it was probably good that this happened.”

You couldn’t possibly fathom how anything even remotely positive could come from your own embarrassment. “Care to explain?”

“Well, Clara has always been a bit frightened of you.” A puzzled look fell over your face. “My assistant…” Thomas added. “You’ve been here how many times and you don’t even know her name?”

“Well! She’s so quiet. She practically runs away every time I’m here,” you said, motioning to what just happened in the doorway.

“Maybe she didn’t like your bra,” Thomas teased. “You know, she could probably help us out with some wedding planning. She’s truly remarkable when it comes to research. I could tell her what we’re looking for in a venue, and she could find it within the hour.”

“Really?” Your interest was piqued. Everything had been going to smoothly until you and Thomas started looking for a venue. It didn’t help that you weren’t exactly sure what you even wanted. “Do you think she would?”

“I don’t see why not. You don’t want to hire a wedding planner, so maybe this could be a solution. Just a little help when necessary.”

“I told you, Thomas, I’m not handing our day over to anyone. It’s what I’ve always done in the past, but I want to be more involved this time.” You weren’t a superstitious woman, but if three weddings coordinated by event planners had ended in divorce, you were willing to do the work yourself if it meant you and Thomas could live happily ever after. “I have to admit, I could use the help, though.”

“Why don’t you go to lunch together? I have some briefings to catch up on before my appointments this afternoon anyway. Get to know each other, talk about the wedding, see how it goes,” he said, reaching into his wallet.

“But I was looking forward to lunch with you,” you said, taking the credit card from Thomas’s grasp as you sat down on his lap. You took his curls between your fingers, expressing your displeasure with a firm tug.

“You better go before I have you right here on my desk,” said Thomas.

“Yes, sir,” you whispered into his ear before setting off for the door. Looking back, you saw Thomas licking his lips, watching your every move. You strolled to the door, swaying your hips along the way. With a wink and a kiss, you were gone.

You sat on your balcony, sipping a glass of merlot as you waited for Thomas to come home. You knew when you left that you’d be in for an interesting night – you had seen that look in his eyes only once before. It had been the start of your longest, most passionate sex to date. Just thinking about it got your heart racing.

{There in 5. Wait for me in the bedroom.}

You tipped your wine glass back as you walked into the apartment. You left the empty glass on the dining room table and undressed, leaving a trail of clothes all the way to the bed. You sat stark naked on the bed as you heard Thomas’s keys in the door. After what felt like an eternity, Thomas sauntered into the bedroom, a glass of ice water in his hand. He placed it on the nightstand before he finally spoke.

“Would you like to try something new tonight?” he asked.

“Of course,” you replied. In the time you’ve been together, Thomas has introduced you to a great number of things you’d never tried before. Indian food. Ice skating. Vibrating panties. The look in his eyes told you this was not the night to be timid.

Never breaking eye contact, Thomas slowly undid his tie. The room was silent save for the faint sound of fabric sliding against itself. Finally, he yanked the tie from around his collar, sending a whipping sound through the air, giving you goosebumps.

“Cover your eyes,” Thomas said, tossing the tie onto your lap. You pick it up, turning over in your hands as you contemplated complying. You could say no. Toss it onto the floor and let him spank you a few times for refusing. You always enjoyed that. What would happen if you put on the blindfold, you didn’t know – but you wanted to.

Carefully, you tie the fabric around your head, knotting it tightly in the back. You listened closely for any clues as to what would come next.

“Lie on your back,” he instructed. You leaned back on your elbows, scooting yourself to the center of the bed. You lay on your back, perfectly still, unsure of what to expect next. Just then, you felt Thomas brush his hand against your thigh. He gently massaged every muscle in each of your legs, the stress of the day slowly melting away. Finally, to your relief, his fingers slipped between your thighs.

“Spread your legs,” said Thomas in a low growl. You did as you were told, sliding your heels across the satin sheets. “Bend your knees. I want to see all of you.”

Your damp skin was cold as your lips spread apart. There was no hiding your desire any longer. Unable to see anything but darkness, your other senses were hyper-aware. The cold air breezing across your center, the subtle scent of Thomas’s cologne, the soft padding of his footsteps to the nightstand to take a drink. Your breath clutched in your chest as you heard him climb onto the bed. You felt the weight of his body pressing into the mattress, yet not so much as a single breath on your skin.

His arms wrap around your thighs as he settles in on his elbows. It took you a moment to comprehend what happened next – a freezing cold surface passed over your labia, sending ice through your veins. Thomas let the cube slide from between his lips onto the top of your mound. You try to wiggle it away, but Thomas was holding you perfectly still. Droplets melted from your warmth, sliding into the folds of your center. That’s when he started to blow – as if the ice-cold water wasn’t chilling enough on its own. Your pearl tingled; your legs quivered.

“Thomas…” you gasped.

His long tongue flickered over your center before replying. “Yes?”

“I’m going to get you back for this,” you said.

“I’m counting on it.” Your words were like fuel on his fire. His appetite was ravenous; he lapped up your desire, savoring the sweet juices. He squeezed tight on your curves every time you let out a moan, leaving marks wherever he touched. He wanted you to wake up tomorrow knowing exactly who you belonged to.

“Thomas, please…” you begged for your release.
Every time he felt you approaching climax, he stopped. The past hour was absolute torture – and you were loving every minute of it.

“Not now, darling,” he said, pulling the tie from your face. “I’m not done with you yet.”

Thomas got to his knees, unbuttoning his shirt before tossing it to the floor. You watch as he undoes his belt, then the button on his pants. He finally reaches the zipper, his solid erection eager to escape. He tried wriggling out of his trousers, but his anticipation got the better of him.

“Oh, fuck it,” he said as he leaned over your body, pressing himself into you. You gasped for air as if you’d been held underwater, finally free. He filled you, consumed you, made you feel whole. You closed your eyes, letting the pleasure spread through your body – but Thomas took your chin in his hand, directing you to face him straight on.

“Open your eyes,” he commanded. “I want you to look at me while I’m fucking you.”

You did as you were told, not daring to break eye contact for even a moment. He wrapped his arms around your knees, holding you tight as he thrusted hard and slow. You moaned every time he slammed into you, crying out for more as he took his time sliding back out. Then, with a quick jerk of his hips, he’d slam right back in.

Your body writhed with agony. Your hands were everywhere – through your hair, cupping your breasts, tugging on the sheets. Thomas himself was just out of reach, slick with sweat, his curls clinging to his forehead. He looked around, finding the tie he had tossed to the side. He took your wrists into his hands, pinning them above your head as he tied them tightly to the headboard.

“If you want to cum, you’re going to have to earn it.” He kissed your forehead as his pace evened out; he moved to your lips, demanding deep, slow kisses as he swirled his hips into yours. You knew exactly what he wanted; you opened your mouth to him, taking in his warm, slick tongue. You were tempted to bite it, but that was no way to earn your finish.

He kissed longer and deeper as he felt your walls tightening around him. You moaned beneath the pressure of his lips, longing to break free. Finally, your pleasure peaked, your legs shaking against Thomas’s bare, slick torso. He finally pulled away from the kiss, wanting to watch as you come undone – as you screamed his name. You twist and tremble beneath him, warm satisfaction spreading from your curled toes to your limp wrists.

“You’re a very good girl,” Thomas said as he kissed your forehead, still inside you. He released you from the headboard, and not a moment too soon.

“You’re a very bad boy,” you said. You pushed him onto his back, ready to take back your power. Thomas watched as you got to your knees between his legs; you looked directly into his eyes as you took him into your mouth, and this time it was he who didn’t dare look away.

You cover every inch of him, engulfing his length in the warmth of your mouth. A deep, growling moan escaped his throat as he quickly reached the point of no return. His fists closed around the loose sheets, and while you briefly consider denying him his finish, you know he earned it. He always did.

You didn’t leave a trace of his essence behind. You kiss a sweet, slow trail up Thomas’s body, finding your place by his side. You lie next to each other, staring up at the ceiling as your bodies come down from their highs. You looked over at Thomas, watching his chest rise and fall. You glanced further up to see his deep blue eyes staring back at you.

“You’re going to be an incredible wife.”

💖

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Blind Side – Chapter 4

In a dimly lit restaurant in New York City, you sat in a secluded
corner with Thomas, his hand resting on your thigh. It was late – probably close
to 11pm – and everyone else had left. You’d mentioned a craving for chocolate
cheesecake when Thomas said he knew of a place that had the absolute best in
the city, and insisted on taking you immediately. The two of you sat
side-by-side, candlelight casting shadows that danced on the walls.

“More champagne, Miss?”

“Please,” you say with a nod, unable to look away from Thomas. His
shining smile has you captivated. Sitting together, hand in hand, you can’t
quite put your finger on this feeling you have – something you’ve never felt
before. But you feel it every time you look at him. Every time you look into those sparkling
blue eyes.

It’s been two weeks since your surprise date at the skating rink,
and you’ve never been happier. You’ve seen Thomas just about every day since – brunch
at the Plaza, carriage rides through Central Park, evenings at the finest
restaurants. Of course, you’d accept nothing less from a man, but this time
feels different. He isn’t doing it out of obligation, but out of love. And you
wanted nothing more than to make him as happy as he makes you.

The waiter walks away as Thomas leans closer to you. Even as he
sat next to you, just inches away, it didn’t feel close enough. The fact that
you’ve yet to consummate the relationship surely wasn’t helping. Every brush of
his skin left you electrified, desperate for more.

“You look enchanting this evening, my love.” He pulls your hand up
to his face, kissing it gently.

“I think red must be your favorite color, Mr. Hiddleston,” you
said, batting your eyelashes at his flattery. There was never a lack of
affection with Thomas, but wearing a sparkly red dress with a plunging neckline
never hurt.

“You know, it might be. It looks so striking against that
porcelain skin of yours,” he said, softly rubbing your cheek with his thumb. He
leans in, holding your face so carefully as his lips press against yours. No
matter how many times he kisses you, it never fails to make your heart race.

“Oh!” He pulls back in an instant, your lips still poised for
more. “I keep forgetting to tell you, darling. I’ve got us tickets for Broadway
tomorrow night. Would you like to go?”

“Of course. Are they very good seats?” you ask, taking another sip
of champagne.

“Our own private box. Nothing but the best for my love.” He kissed
your cheek as he pulled out his wallet, leaving cash on the table to settle the
bill. “Now let’s get you home.”

You spend most of the next day getting ready for your date. Your
dress, a flowing lavender halter that cinched at the waist, was one of your
favorites – and one Thomas has yet to see. You even bought new strappy heels to
wear with it. Your phone buzzed just as you put the finishing touches on your
makeup. It was from Thomas.

{Be there in 5. No panties tonight.}

You smirked.

Why do I
love when he does that?

With a shrug, you pull up your flowing skirt, sliding your panties
down your leg. You toss them into the laundry and head for the elevator. You reached
the lobby just as he pulled up outside. The doorman opens the door for you as
you slide into the shiny Jag, careful not to give the old man a show. Thomas
must have noticed, because he was grinning as you turned to greet him.

“That’s my girl.”

You arrived at the theater just moments before the show started. The
two of you were escorted to your box, which was nestled in at the back of the
theater, two levels up. You had the perfect view of the stage, and if you got
bored, everyone below you.

“Perfect, we can spy on everyone,” you chuckled, tossing your
Prada bag onto the lush carpeted floor.

“Ah, yes, but no one can spy on us,” Thomas said with a wink.

“Why do I get the feeling that has something to do with the text
message I received this evening?” You straighten his tie before sitting down
together on a luxurious padded loveseat. The curtain draws up and the lights go
down.

“Shh. The show is starting.”

You settle in next to Thomas, his arm around you and his hand
resting on your hip. The show is lovely – the acting is believable; the music
is moving. Your attention almost always goes to the costumes first, and they’re
fabulous. You haven’t seen one yet that you wouldn’t wear yourself.

It must be getting close to intermission, but glancing down at
your watch, you find it’s too dark to read.

“Are you alright?” asked Thomas.

“Oh, yes. Just checking the time.”

He nuzzles up to you, pulling you close as he kisses just under
your ear. He maneuvers himself behind you a bit, letting you rest against his
chest and shoulder. His hand, still resting on your hip, gives it a firm squeeze.
You look back at him, a mischievous smile spreading across his face. He nods
toward the stage, not wanting you to miss anything.

Taking full advantage of your private suite, he slides his hand
beneath the pleats of your chiffon dress. Your eyes are locked onto his hand as
he gently massages your leg, creeping ever slowly north.

Is he
really going to do this here?

You look around, checking for the hundredth time that no one can
see. He inches ever closer to your crease, moving as slow as honey, leaving you
aching for his sweet touch. He finally reaches the very top of your thighs,
rubbing your outer lips gently. You gasp softly as he slides a finger between them.

He suddenly stops, turning his head towards you, brushing his lips
against your ears.

“Shh… Don’t you make a sound.” He waits for you to nod before
continuing.

His finger works slowly; it moves in long lines, exploring you
from top to bottom. Just when you think you can contain yourself, he pauses
over your pearl, drawing lazy circles around her. You squirm as he picks up the
pace, biting your lip to try to regain some control. Your breath is unsteady;
you skin is flush all over. You can feel
his circles slowing; he presses all four fingers tight against your body. You
can feel his hand trembling as your hips press against him, desperate for more.

Unsure of when you closed your eyes, you open them at the sound of
footsteps and chatter. The lights are on and the curtain is falling as people make
their way out of the theater. Intermission. You both sit up a little
straighter, and Thomas casually brings his arm out from under your dress, letting
it rest behind you on the loveseat. His other hand is covering a growing
tightness in his pants.

You turn to face him, still trying to regain composure. But your
heart is still racing, and the lust in his eyes is making you far too weak.

“Can we leave?” It falls out of your mouth before you even
consider what you’re saying, but it doesn’t matter. The time for thinking is
over.

“Oh, please, my love. Where? Where do you want to go?” He’s
already standing as you reach for your purse.

“My apartment is closest.”

Thomas leads you through the crowd, never letting go of your hand
as you make your way back to the car. Your thoughts are running wild; the night
is finally here, and you can hardly wait. You feel a little queasy in the Jag,
but it must just be the car swerving in and out of traffic.

Not the
best night to forget dinner.

He glides into a parking space, throwing the car into park as you’re
both already opening your doors. Still holding your hand every step of the way,
you make it into the elevator at last. The doors close, and you’re up against the
wall, his body pressed against yours. His hands are everywhere as he fuses his
lips to your own. You’re blindly undoing his tie when the elevator chimed, signaling
the arrival of other tenants.

You quickly fix your dress, trying to seem as calm as Thomas, who
simply stood in the corner, undone tie be damned. He greeted them as you still try
to catch your breath, another wave of nausea coming over you. You break out
into a cold sweat as the doors open at your front door.

I can’t do
this. I’m not ready.

You take a moment, fidgeting with your keys as you try to think of
something to say. You slide the key into the lock, looking at Thomas before you
open the door. He reaches down to brush the hair away from your face, kissing
you on the forehead.

“I love you, darling.” His gentle smile tears through your heart,
your eyes filling with tears as you try to speak.

“You have to go,” you said in a whisper.

His eyes narrowed, lost in confusion. “What did you say?”

“I can’t let you in.” Gathering what little strength you have, you
say more loudly, “You need to leave.” You rush through the door, shutting it
before Thomas could protest. You stand on the other side of the door, tears
streaming down your face. He tries to open the door, but you’ve already locked
it. He calls out to you, unsure if you can even hear him.

“What did I do, my love? Whatever it is, we can figure it out together.
Please…” he trails off. His pleas are met with silence. Defeated, he turns to
walk away. You hear him stop for a moment, speaking so softly you could barely
hear him.

“I’m sorry.”

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.

Imagine seeking your professor’s guidance after doing miserably on the course’s midterm. You typically sit in the back of the class, so when you enter his office, you’re immediately taken aback by his striking features. You struggle to find words as he places his hand on your leg. Could he be coming onto you? You’re finally able to tell him you need help in his class, and he replies, “I’m sure there are a great deal of things I could do to assist you, Miss.”

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Blind Side – Chapter 9

Blind Side – Chapter 4

Blind Side – Chapter 1