My God, what am I doing?

Nate hovers over me, his hand burrowed in my jeans. Wooden stairs dig into my spine. Every part of me buzzes with warm blood. The room sways around us with a serene, dream-like quality, almost as if none of this is real at all. As if I’m seeing him through another woman’s eyes because surely this isn’t me.

I never thought I could be this woman. I never knew how badly I could want to be.

He lingers here. It’s hesitant, in a way. Like he’s giving me a way out. Does he want me to take it?

I could take it. It’s not too late. An understanding husband might forgive a kiss between old acquaintances. A moment of weakness is just that: a moment. To go upstairs with Nate now would be a choice. I could choose to abandon this and save my marriage.

If my marriage is even worth saving at all. I’ve told Curtis what I need. He’s rejected me.

But Nate hasn’t. He sees more to me than just my scars. When he says I’m beautiful, I believe him. I know he’s not lying when he says he wants me.

I grip his shirt and pull him closer, quickly locking our lips together. His shirt untucks from his jeans and I shiver as my hands touch his skin beneath it.

Nate sighs, relaxing into me and his hand crawls upward. He kisses me back as he slides into my panties, fingers slowly aiming for my throbbing clit.

“Talk to me,” I say again, smiling.

Nate grins. “I want you,” he whispers, his lips grazing my cheek.

I spread my thighs, letting his fingers slip between my folds. My core twitches with pleasure as he lays a finger beside my clit.

“I want you to come for me,” he says.

I shudder as lightning fires up my back. “Yes,” I say, a moan on my tongue.

He leaves a line of kisses down my jawline and drops to my neck. “I want to taste you...”

I stiffen but I hate it. I want this so badly. I want him to rip my clothes off and have his way with me but I’m…

Nate raises his head, sensing my shift. “Kimber?”

I cover my face with my hands.

Christ, what am I thinking?

Why did I think I could do this; that I was ready to open myself to someone new.

“You don’t want me to see?” he asks.

I drop my hands, fighting with myself for another second before looking at him again.

He nods with a smile as he withdraws his hand from my jeans. He leans upward to kiss my forehead and looks at me with the same playful eyes he always does.

“Do you have a scarf?” he asks.

I blink. “In my closet. Why?”

He extends his hand. “Come on.”

I take it without thinking and he pulls me up off the stairs with him.

We go to the second floor and he takes me down the hall.

“Here?” he asks, gesturing at the guest room door.

“The next one,” I say.

He tugs me along with him, shoving the bedroom door open as soon as his arm can reach it.

My eyes instinctively roam to the walls, locking on the pictures hanging in various places around the room.

Me on my wedding day. Curtis in his tux. A few shots of us on our honeymoon in Europe. The day we bought our house.

The picture-perfect existence of the perfect couple with the perfect, little life.

But it didn’t last. I’m beginning to wonder if anything ever does.

Nate stops us in the middle of the room. “Blindfold me,” he says to me.

I flinch out of my head. “Blindfold you?”

He raises his left hand to my right cheek, softly pushing my hair back to rest behind my ear. “You don’t want me to see, right?” he asks.

I nod.

He leans in and kisses my cheek. “Well, I don’t need my eyes to do what I want to do to you.”

The same smile touches my lips. “You’d do that?”

Nate takes a step back and sits down on the edge of the bed. “Go on,” he says, bobbing his head toward the closet door.

Warmth bursts from my chest. I focus on him for another second longer before walking over to the closet. A dozen scarves of various colors dangle from a hanger inside, right next to another few rods full of Curtis’ ties. I bite my lip, oddly tempted to use one of his ties but I take one of my black scarves instead.

As I walk back toward the bed, Nate watches with impish eyes and tented jeans. My pulse skips a beat at the view of him sitting there. Strangely, the sting is starting to wear off. Another man on my bed...

I pause in front of him, taking one last look into his green eyes, before laying the scarf over them. I wrap it around twice, making sure to cover them evenly.

“Can you see anything?” I ask before tying it off.

“Nope,” he says, still smiling.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

I raise my hand, pointing my index finger. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

He hums. “And what makes you think I wouldn’t just lie?”

I poke him in the forehead and laugh. “Are you saying I can’t trust you?”

His smirk deepens.

I raise two more. “How many now?”

“Two,” he guesses.

I poke him with all three. “Wrong.”

He feigns a wince and lunges forward to wrap his arms around me, quickly twisting to pull me down to the bed. I fall with a rush of blood to my brain, happily lying back in his arms.

“I can’t see a thing,” he says over me. “But...” He leans over and buries his nose in my hair. “I can smell you.”

He inhales deeply and lets out a pleasurable grunt before pushing up on his arms and kneeling back.

“And I can feel you...”

His hands travel down to my waist, slowly hooking my jeans again, but he doesn’t pull them down yet. He lays his palms flat on my stomach and burrows them beneath my sweater, his skin touching mine. Desire builds inside of me as his touch rises up to find my bare breasts. I gasp with sudden pleasure and my legs spread a little wider.

Nate chuckles. “I can hear you...”

I bite my lip, stifling a laugh.

He shifts downward, raising my sweater upward. Another stab of self-consciousness takes my spine and I nearly stop him again as the light touches the web of white lines along my right side.

I breathe through it. I look up at his covered eyes and exhale the words off my tongue. As much as I don’t want him to see my scars, I want to feel more of his touch. My body needs to feel him.

I don’t stop him. I relax down as he kisses my belly. I shiver as his tongue part his lips and he licks my skin.

“I can taste you,” he says.

I open my mouth, breathing harder, unable to say a word as he climbs my body. He moves with ease, leaving sweet kisses up my abdomen toward my breasts, led by his other four senses.

I shiver at the sight of him behind that black scarf. He kisses up my neck, his tongue lightly touching my skin on his way up to my lips again.

“Can I taste more of you?” he asks, his voice a low growl.

I bite my cheek in another moment of hesitation but this one doesn’t last. Lying here, feeling what it’s like to desired again, with my chest heaving and my body throbbing for it.

I’ve made my choice.

“Yes,” I answer, our lips still locked in a deep kiss.

“Do you want it?” he teases.

“Yes. God, yes.”

He kisses me, lightly biting my bottom lip as he pulls away and begins crawling down my body again.

I let out a gentle sigh, pushing every last ounce of air out of my lungs. I send all of my doubts with it. Every hesitant thought. Every last bit of my guilty conscience. When I breathe in again, I take in confidence with it. I take in pride and satisfaction. I let my lust come out with each fresh kiss Nate lays on my skin.

He reaches my jeans again. This time, when he starts pulling them down, I let myself enjoy it. I ignore the discoloration of my skin and the scars from knee surgeries. I straighten my legs and point my toes to let him pull them all the way to my ankles.

Nate drops them to the floor and settles back onto the bed again on his knees. He positions himself between my legs, his hands slowly gliding up my thighs toward my panties.

I feel everything. There was a time I felt nothing; only a dull, numbing sensation from the inside out. Now, after months of healing, I feel everything. I feel every warm touch.

I chuckle as tears fill my eyes.

Nate reacts to the sound and smiles a little wider. “Are you okay?” he asks, his hands resting my waist again.

I nod, quickly remembering he can’t see it. “Yes,” I answer as I wipe my eyes.

He leans forward and grips my sweater. I raise my arms, feeling a burst of confidence deep in my gut. He pulls it upward over my head and drops it onto the bed beside us.

I lie in front of him, nearly naked in nothing but my white panties. I glance down at my broken body. Truthfully, I’m glad he can’t see it. I’m glad to be here in the moment, sharing pleasure without remembering pain.

He hooks my panties and tugs them down.

I watch with baited breaths as he kisses my mound, inhaling my scent and my desire churns a little deeper inside. I swallow the moan in my mouth, not wanting to lose myself too much and miss a moment of it.

He parts his lips for his tongue, giving my folds an eager lick that stokes the flames in me. I reach down to run my fingers through his thick, brown hair, silently urging him to go on. He doesn’t make me wait. He buries his tongue in me, firmly laving me.

I rest my eyes, focusing on the rush of pleasure aching in my core. I lie back, twitching and panting with his face between my thighs, and the only thing I can think is...

Dear God, please don’t let my husband come home.

I moan loudly, my hand gripping his hair in my fist. “Nate,” I say, making his own hands squeeze my thighs even tighter.

“Kimber,” he says, raising his head. “God, I love this…”

I put pressure on his head. “No, no! Don’t stop, don’t—”

He buries his face in me again and I fall back against the pillow. I whimper at the sudden rush of blood flowing south, feeling a sharp pleasure deep within me. It builds fast, far faster than any other moment I’ve ever spent in this bed. He’s giving me what I want, what I need… better than any other man.

Climax surges in me. I lose myself in it, arching my back and pulling Nate even closer. I practically smother him but he doesn’t seem to care. He leans in, ravaging me with his tongue over and over again until I decide I’ve had enough.

I push softly against his forehead and he leans back, turning his head to leave kisses along my twitching thighs.

“Nate…” I bite my lip. “That was amazing…”

He chuckles and nips at my left knee. His hands travel up my legs to rest on my waist. My skin tingles. It hasn’t been touched like this in so long by anyone. Even I don’t love myself like this. Not anymore. When his fingertips brush along my scars, I don’t cringe. I don’t even turn away in shame.

I feel it all, all the passion and desire behind his touch.

“Thank you,” I say, catching my breath.

Nate sits up on his knees and cocks his head, his blindfold still fixed in place. “Thank you?”

I laugh as he settles between my legs. “Yeah, thank you.”

“You say that… as if I’m done with you.”

I bite my lip. “Oh, yeah?”

He leans down, easily finding my mouth. He kisses me once, my lips parting for his tongue and I shudder beneath his wet, greedy kiss.

“I told you I was going to fuck you senseless,” he says. “So, no, Kimber. I’m not done with you yet.”