She held the blindfold while trying to ignore the flutter of excitement in her stomach. Her fingers toyed with the elasticated band meant to hold the mask in place.
“Both partners are going to get a turn at being blindfolded,” Libby said from the front of the room. “Between yourselves, pick who’s going to go first.”
Noah looked down at her, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He ran a hand along his jaw, catching the reddish-gold bristles of his burgeoning beard. For a moment, Paige was totally captured with the idea of how the bristles might feel on her skin. Would they be smooth or rough? Would she shriek if he brushed them along her inner thigh?
“What do you say, new girl?” He cocked his head. “Would you rather do the blindfolding or be blindfolded?”
At that point she would have been happy to go all in— blindfolded, tied up, and held down.
Holy crap, would you listen to yourself? This is a work function, not a goddamn re-creation of Fifty Shades.
“Blindfolded,” she squeaked, thrusting the mask into his hands and spinning so quickly that she almost lost her footing.
“You know, I’ve never done this before.” His hand steadied her, the reassuring warmth of his touch seeping into her skin. Her bones felt like jelly.
“Blindfolded someone?” she asked, cringing at how shaky her voice sounded.
“Ah, no. I meant the taste test.” He chuckled as he slipped the mask over her eyes.
Heat rushed up to Paige’s cheeks. Of course he meant the taste test. What an idiot she was. Just because her brain was earning an R-rating tonight didn’t mean his was, too. She fought back a tremor as he brushed some loose hairs from her neck so he could adjust the strap on the mask.
Everything went dark, and Paige gripped the edge of the table for support.
Warm breath whispered over her ear, and she could tell he’d leaned in a little closer. The scent of coffee and faded cologne tempted her to turn her head toward the source.
“I’ve definitely blindfolded someone before, but it wasn’t for a taste test.” Her breath hitched, and she was grateful that she’d had the presence of mind to hold on to something.
He chuckled. “Yeah, that’s what she said.”
Holy. Freaking. Shit.
came from a family of women who loved to read. Thus, it was no surprise Stefanie was the sort of student who would read her English books before the semester started. After sneaking several literature subjects into her ‘very practical’ Business degree, she got a job in Communications. When writing emails and newsletters didn’t fulfill her creative urges, she turned to fiction and was finally able to write the stories that kept her mind busy at night.