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We parked in the parking garage, rode down to the street level in the freezing elevator, which smelled like someone lived in it, and then strolled toward the restaurant.

Glowing candles flickered in the windowsill and gold lettering arched on the glass, announcing The Bedford. We were ushered into the main dining area, where the lighting was subdued. Flames lapped at wood in the two-sided fireplaces encased in glass, but the focal point of the room was at the back.

“It used to be a bank,” Kyle said when we reached our table.

The room had once been the bank lobby, but now it was occupied with tables. Beyond the old teller windows near the back, an enormous vault was open, its round mouth wide and welcoming. There were couches in there, where people from the bar mingled, and the walls were lined with safety deposit boxes.

Who would have thought a bank would be sexy? Because that was exactly what this restaurant was.

I’d been too busy gaping to realize Kyle was helping me take off my coat.

“Stop that.” I jerked away.

He seemed to enjoy my irritation. “I’m going to pull your chair out next, and you’re going to deal with it, Ruby.”

The waiter arrived and listened to us bickering with a puzzled expression. In the end, I submitted, just so we could get this show on the road. The sooner dinner was over, the sooner the weird sensation that this was a date would pass.

“Wine?” Kyle asked, staring at the menu. “You still into cabernet?”

Dammit. Would I get used to this? He hadn’t been around the last five years, but he knew me better than any other man. Once I showed him my list, hell, it’d solidify that title.

“Sure,” I choked out. “That’s fine.”

We made small talk until our order was placed and the waiter arrived with the bottle of wine. Kyle hadn’t even hinted at the willing list. He must have sensed I was going to need some liquid courage before handing over my darkest fantasies in easy-to-read text.

“You can fill ’er up to the top,” I said to the waiter who poured my win

e. I wasn’t even joking.

My breath became shallow when the man slinked away, leaving the two of us to get down to business. Kyle’s fingers disappeared inside the leather jacket he’d hung on the back of his chair, and he produced a folded sheet of paper.

Oh my God, it was really happening. It was an asinine thought, as this was specifically why we’d come here. Hopefully he couldn’t see how nervous I was as I dug my list out of my purse. I clutched the paper tightly. “I, uh, have a few things I wasn’t sure about.”

He blinked. “You’re not sure if you want to do them?”

“No, like, there are things on here that I don’t know what they mean.”

“Oh.” He looked somewhat relieved. “An example?”

I unfolded the paper, keeping it close, even though no one would be able to read the small print unless they were right beside me. “DVP?”

His face went totally blank, disguising the thoughts beneath. He kept his voice quiet. “That’s . . . two P’s in the V.”

I didn’t get it. My voice went so low he probably couldn’t understand me, but I mouthed the words. “Two pussies in the . . .?”

He gave a weird, choked off laugh and matched my near silence. “Two penises in the vagina.”

My mouth rounded into an “Oh.” Christ. I stared down at the list.

“What else?” he asked.

“That’s it,” I lied, folding the paper slowly. Hopefully nothing he had checked was stuff I didn’t understand. My belief was if I didn’t know what it was, chances were I wasn’t going to be interested.

“All right.” Kyle set his paper down on the table, but his fingers lingered. “To reiterate, no judgement.”

“You’re making me a little nervous.”

He pushed with his fingertips, gliding the folded paper along the tabletop. I passed mine to him, and my heart launched into my throat. Every unfold he made was like peeling back a layer of my clothes until I was fully exposed and naked in the room crowded with strangers.


Tags: Nikki Sloane Blindfold Club Erotic