sure.
She drove them home. She tried to get him to open up, asked what he was thinking. He didn’t respond, just shrugged.
He knew she had asked him a question but he didn’t have an answer he was willing to share with her. What was he thinking? What did she think he was thinking? He tried to calm himself down. It really wasn’t her fault. She was doing the best she could, pretending that it would all be fine when he knew it wouldn’t.
He felt the car beneath them shift gears. His first thought was that he’d never be able to drive a car again. He would forever be a passenger in his own life. He felt sick when he took it a step farther – he’d never ride a motorcycle again. He’d been riding since before his license. Before he had any business driving a motorcycle. While he loved cars and engines, he lived for the wide open road and the wind rustling through his hair. He would never have that again.
His whole life was going to change. He could no longer be the person he had thought he was. Hell, he probably wasn’t even the person Lina wanted anymore. He looked towards her, an old habit now because he couldn’t actually see her face. He had no way of telling what she was thinking anymore.
He reached out and grasped her fingers over the shifter. She seemed to understand his dark thoughts and squeezed his hand. He leaned his forehead on the cool glass of the window and tried to sleep the rest of the way.
When they got back to their home, she helped him out of the car and inside. They ran through the furniture arrangements, the rooms he thought he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt. She tried to rearrange the pantry and kitchen so that he could help himself if she wasn’t there.
That night, he slipped exhausted into bed with her. He could practically hear her thoughts going a mile a minute and just wanted it to stop, for everything to stop, just for one night. He reached towards her and she scooted closer. He propped his chin on top of her head and felt her big sigh.
They stayed silent for a few moments and then she murmured softly, “I love you, ya know.”
He stilled, thinking. “I love you, too.”
“I don’t feel different towards you. Everything that I loved about you then is still the same. 20/20 vision was not mandatory on my list for a potential husband,” she joked.
“No, but being able to dress or feed himself was probably a given. It’s not very masculine having your shirt buttoned up wrong, or potatoes down the front of it,” he said darkly.
He felt her move and resettle herself. Then he felt her soft touch on his face. He tilted his head and pressed a kiss into her palm.
“I want to try something,” she said suddenly.
“Okay.” He tried to be a good sport, but new adventures were not high on his list of wants right now.
“Just sit right here. I’ll be back in a sec.” He heard her get out of bed and walk into the next room. A few seconds later, the bed dipped and she slid up against him. He held back a moan, feeling her silky thighs graze his suddenly hardening member. God, it had been too long.
He startled when he felt her hands reach behind him. He lifted his head instinctively and felt something whisper-thin cross over his face. He tapped his fingers over it. It was some kind of cloth that she was putting over his eyes.
“It’s the blindfold you use on me sometimes.” He recalled several occasions where he had tied her, blindfolded, to the bed, or a chair, and had his way with her. His staff rose to attention at the memories.
She whispered, “Now it’s your turn.”
He got chills, hearing the sexiness in her voice and wondering what exactly she had in mind. She dragged the covers off them. He shivered from the suddenness, but he wasn’t really cold. He felt her arms slide around him, lifting him
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