“Oh, God.” The words were so quiet, so full of . . . need, he’d thought for a minute he’d only imagined he’d heard them. But when he looked at her face and the way her teeth were biting into her full bottom lip, he knew she’d said them.
Every nerve in his body seemed to electrify. Christ.
However, before he could figure out how to respond, the lights flickered and blinked out, blanketing the room in darkness. A few sounds of surprise came from the audience behind him.
“What happened?” Evan asked, stiffening beneath his touch, her voice higher than normal.
Before Jace could answer her, Dr. Dan’s voice rang out through the pitch-black space. “Just stay put, everybody. Nothing to worry about. I’ll go tell them to flip the circuit breaker, and we’ll be up and running again in a minute. Relax and stay where you are for now. Don’t want anyone tripping over anyone else.”
Jace started to pull away from Evan, but the sound of her quickening breath gave him pause. “You okay, Ev?”
“Can you see enough to untie me? I . . . It’s hot in here, and I’m feeling kind of . . . claustrophobic.”
“Oh, yeah, no problem.” He hopped to his feet, thankful for the lack of light. Otherwise the audience would see just how effective the exercise had been for him. Reigniting the flame was an understatement; he could set off a fucking forest fire right now.
Carefully, he moved around the back of the chair and felt around until he found her wrists. He hadn’t tied her tightly, so it only took a second to loosen the bindings. Once she was freed, he heard her rustling around—probably taking off the blindfold. He wondered if Evan still had a fear of the dark like she’d had when she was a teenager. His fingers flexed, wanting to reach out and touch her again, make sure she was okay, but he held back.
“Ev, stay in the chair, okay? I don’t want you to fall off the stage.”
No response came.
A few seconds later, the bank of overhead lights flickered back on, and he shielded his eyes from the sudden brightness. He blinked, letting his vision adjust, and found the chair in front of him empty. He looked around the room.
The back exit door was clicking shut, and Evan was nowhere to be found.
Awesome. He’d stepped over the line again, and she’d done exactly what she’d done the last time.
Bailed.
God, he was a jackass.
FOUR
Evan’s muscles ached as she unlocked the front door of her photography studio and went inside. She’d planned to come in earlier to get things in order for re-opening next week. But after the restless night she’d had, she’d decided to go to the gym first for Janice the Evil’s advanced spinning class, hoping the punishing workout would beat her agitation into submission. No such luck. She’d almost puked thirty minutes in and now she just had embarrassment and a sore ass to add to the restlessness.
God, if she could just get some sleep, maybe she could get herself back on track. Since they’d returned from South Padre, she’d tossed and turned every night, her mind racing and her body craving things she couldn’t have. It was as if seeing Jace again had knocked her whole system out of alignment.
Ugh. She dropped her bag and sank into her desk chair. What was the deal? She was the freaking master of blocking things out, of centering herself and focusing on the tasks at hand. But now she just felt . . . scattered. And all the things that usually kept her calm and content weren’t doing a damn thing.
Part of it could still be her body adjusting to being off the medication, but there was no way she was going back to those pills. After so many years on them, she hadn’t even noticed when the healing effects had switched from therapeutic to numbing. Until one day a few months ago when she’d seen her neighbor’s sweet little dog dart across the street during her morning run and get hit by a car. The whole thing had happened in the space of seconds, and her neighbor had immediately rushed to the injured dog’s side. But as Evan had stood there on the curb watching the horrible scene, she’d realized that all the things she should be feeling—sympathy, concern, sadness—were just . . . absent. Like her heart had gone hollow inside her.r: Roni Loren
Jace’s hand left her shoulder and soon gentle fingertips threaded in her hair and moved in a circular motion against her scalp. A hard shudder of pleasure went through her, and she had to work hard to hold in a sigh.
“Feel free to use your hands or the feather we provided. The person receiving the touch shouldn’t speak unless it’s to use the safe word.”
Evan could hear the shuffling in the room as people adjusted and started the exercise, but all her focus remained on the lovely pressure of Jace’s fingers against her skull.
“Mmm,” she murmured low enough so no one but Jace would hear. “You missed your calling as a salon shampoo girl.”
“I didn’t say you could speak,” he said, his voice low, commanding.
The authority in his tone sent an odd zing through her. Whoa. She shifted in her seat, feeling warmer than she had a second before. She nodded, not sure if an apology would break the no-speaking rule as well.
His fingers halted as if he’d been surprised by something. Breath tickled her ear. “Sorry, Ev. That just slipped out. You can talk if you want.”
She shook her head. “It’s okay. I’ll follow the rules you set for the activity. I can take direction.”
She couldn’t tell if the noise he made was an under-the-breath groan or a grunt of approval, but he returned to the exercise. His fingertips slid down the side of her neck and marked a whisper-light path across her throat that had her holding her breath and squeezing her eyes shut beneath the blindfold. Without consciously deciding to do so, she tilted her head back, giving him better access.