‘You will have your chance to remove the blindfold when we have been together forty-eight hours. You are not touching it, nor are you going anywhere.’ There is an irrevocable determination in his voice that is unyielding and compellingly X-rated. God, what happened to the empowerment I felt only moments ago? No eyes to see, no legs to walk, no hands to move. He really is taking every bit of control away from me and his physical response clearly tells me he loves it. And apparently so do I.
‘Well, you are certainly using over-the-top measures to ensure that I don’t.’ I acknowledge for his benefit that I can barely move. Even as I question why I am secretly thrilled that he is going to such extremes, my arousal skyrockets with each passing second.
‘Trust me, Alex, the fun is yet to begin and I know you will love it if you just give yourself the opportunity to embrace it.’
Is he my therapist now? I decide that struggling is futile, as it just seems to strengthen his resolve further both figuratively and physically; he tightens his hold on both my wrists and thighs. My brainstorming mind clicks into gear weighing up potential options. As if sensing my thoughts he states calmly, ‘Don’t fight me on this, AB, you will lose.’
Just as I’m about to speak Jeremy’s mouth comes hard against mine with his tongue forcing its way through my lips, probing my tongue, invading my throat, harder and faster as I am pinned beneath him. He smothers my face, leaving me literally gasping for air. His power is a carnal force that my body has no urge to reject.
‘You are mine for the weekend. Stop fighting so hard, you are wasting precious energy that could be put to much more effective use.’ His voice is laden with suggestive undertones. ‘God, you look absolutely irresistible. Shame we have company or I swear I would take you right here, making the most of the access under your dress.’
I am left melting beneath him; the hot, pulsing ache in my groin ensuring I am breathless and wanton.
‘So beautiful, but she does struggle so …’ he reflects, and for a long moment his palms cup my chin and cheeks as he straddles my body. I feel his erection harden against my thigh. He releases a long sigh as I anxiously await his next move.
‘You leave me no choice. Leo, please cuff her.’
‘Certainly, sir, right away.’
Jeremy pulls my shoulders toward his body and slides his hands down my arms to my elbows ensuring they don’t bend as they are anchored behind me. Leo, whoever he is, quickly straps something that feels like padded handcuffs around my wrists and clasps them together in record time.
I am left gasping, speechless, bound and blind as Jeremy secures the blindfold back into position. What on earth is going on here? This isn’t just some university prank that we can laugh about together. Jeremy said he would go to virtually any length to make this happen. Why? My thoughts are pulsating in my brain in tandem with my heart, trying to decipher what has just happened to me. I can feel the intensity of the energy in the room as if it is pumping through the air. What is driving him to be so dominating? What exactly am I missing?
‘I’d forgotten just how very stubborn you are. It’s quite astonishing.’ The old Jeremy is back, having a normal conversation with me. Unbelievable.
‘Stubborn,’ I shriek, emotion still overwhelming my muscles, my voice. ‘How can you …’
‘Please, keep your voice down. I won’t be able to feed you with a gag in your mouth,’ he states calmly.
‘You wouldn’t dare —’
He cuts me off immediately. ‘I’ve come this far, my love. You know I would. The sooner you surrender yourself to me, the more freedom you will experience,’ he whispers as if we are co-conspirators. What does he mean by that?
I shuffle around on the seat while trying to fully absorb the reality of my wrists being bound behind me. Although we have had an exploratory sexual past, Jeremy has never taken things this far before. There has never been this urgency, this underlying non-negotiable tone. I recognise now that perhaps I am in well and truly over my head. I just don’t understand what is driving this situation, and why …
One minute I feel so close to him, in every way. The next minute I have to wonder if I know him at all. I am a mother for god’s sake; how the hell did I let myself get into this situation? What if I really can’t get out of it, now that I’m here? Is he joking, playing? Is he testing me? Pushing me to the limit? If so, it is working. I am confused and panicked, and contradictorily and frustratingly, extremely bloody aroused.
***
‘Now, let’s not waste these martinis.’
Jeremy holds my chin upwards and carefully slides the cold liquid into my mouth. I don’t speak to him; I honestly don’t know what to say. I can barely move. I am petrified of going against his wishes after what has just happened, which is no doubt exactly what he intended, so I sit in silence, like a mannequin. It’s as if every cell in my body is electrified, awaiting his next move, on high alert. It’s strangely invigorating. I can feel his stare attempting to penetrate my thoughts. I try to calm my breath, my emotions, my thoughts … I fail. More silky liquid finds my tongue and slides down my throat. I don’t encourage it. I don’t prevent it. I’m frozen with some sort of fear of the unknown that I can’t define; it’s exciting and tantalising even though I feel utterly vulnerable with only Jeremy to rely on. What choice do I have, but to temporarily accept this bizarre sequence of events without protest or complaint? However, in accepting this fate I am also forced to concede that I have never felt more special or cherished by anyone in my life.
Presumably we have finished our martinis because I am guided to a standing position. Jeremy slips his arm around my waist through my bound arms. We walk away without words. Suddenly, my feet are swept out from beneath me and Jeremy carries me easily up some stairs. It makes me feel very small, even more fragile and dependent, when he can scoop my body up so effortlessly. I have no physical defence against him and my emotional ones are being systematically infiltrated. I have never relied on someone so completely. I am usually so self-sufficient and this gesture of complete possession makes me quite literally go weak at the knees.
I hear a door open and feel a flood of fresh air surround me. He lowers me directly into a chair. I can hear the noise of the city below and feel the warm humid air on my skin. I imagine the evening is as beautiful as the day was earlier. It feels good to be out of the tense energy of that room. My entire body shudders with relief at this new environment and sense of space around me.
‘Are you cold?’ He is obviously watching me as intently as I had supposed he was. Before I can stop myself, I shake my head, acknowledging his question. So much for ignoring him. I continue to sit as still and straight as possible. I sense that he continues his attempt to decipher my every mood and reaction.
‘Would you like some music, or would you prefer to sit in silence?’ He always had a knack for procuring an answer other than yes or no. I sigh inwardly but don’t answer him. This is his game, his rules, so I assume he will decide.
‘Music it is, then.’
Some light, mellow jazz music instantly commences at the end of his words. I am surprised — the music sounds live and I tilt my head in the direction of the sound. The music is smooth and melodic, vaguely familiar although I can’t quite place it at this stage. A light aroma teases my olfactory sense and I pause to consider its identity. I can detect wonderfully fresh coriander, chilli, some ginger, perhaps sesame oil. I realise Jeremy is allowing me to smell and absorb one of my favourite Thai dishes. He raises it carefully to my lips, teasing me a little. I let him play his silly games.
‘God, you look so gorgeous sitting here, so beautiful, so vulnerable, so stubborn. The night is spectacular, let me describe it for you. There is a full moon rising from the east, looking magnificent, not a cloud in the sky. The city lights are shining neon everywhere around us. We’re on the rooftop of the hotel, and we are the only guests here, so you don’t need to worry about anyone recognising us. The table has been set simply but is sophisticated, like you. I have ordered your favourite foods, your favourite wine, your favourite music. We are finally able to share these things in style with no expense spared. Alexa, I have longed for this moment with you and it is even more perfect in reality. I have you all to myself. You sitting there so still, bound and blind, being so brave, it is just melting my heart. I would release your wrists, but the vision of you sitting before me like this is giving me such a surprising hard on, I am selfishly savouring the moment a little longer.’
His words leave me speechless, my body responding as it would to his touch. I hear music floating around my ears.
‘May I have this dance?’ It appears to be a rhetorical question as I am escorted to my feet. He releases my wrists from behind my back only to refasten them together around his neck. It seems as if I’ll be dancing regardless. Does he honestly think I’m going to run away from a high-rise rooftop when I’m blind? The thought flitters flippantly through my mind … My brain finally recognises the riff that has been playing since our arrival. His hips start to move, I clumsily move with him, I don’t have much choice. He holds me close to him until we gain some form of synchronicity. He places my head on his shoulder and I can feel the smooth fibres of his shirt and, behind that, the heat from his chest. I’m intrigued by the specific choice of the song. I don’t resist the rhythm of his body. I inhale. I exhale. Words float into the music that he knows I love.
The saxophone, guitar, drums and percussion caress away the anxiety I experienced before, and I effortlessly glide in his arms as he leads me confidently around the dance floor. Jeremy carefully and skilfully dissolves my tension until I am literally melting into his arms. His touch is exquisite, not too much, not too little. The sexual chemistry cascading over our bodies is once again impossible to ignore.
We dance, we eat, we drink, we talk, we kiss, we laugh.
I am blind but no longer bound.
I allow myself to compartmentalise any fear I felt downstairs into a distant, shrunken corner of my mind. Maybe tonight is as much for him as it is for me, maybe it is about us, I don’t know. Finally the scales tip and I can say I am here now more by choice, rather than force. After feeding me dessert, an extravaganza of taste sensations: smooth, silky chocolate ganache, with a hint of something — orange perhaps or some other citrus — in crisp, buttery pastry, accompanied by a sticky dessert wine that leaves my tongue thick in my mouth. I am floating on air.
‘Alex, would you sing for me, while we have the band still with us?’
I smile at his question. ‘It’s been years since I have sung anything.’
‘Please, it is only us. Any song you choose. There is a guitar here for you.’
Jeremy used to love listening to my girlfriend Amy and I jam together on rainy Sunday afternoons. I was embarrassed at first but we became used to his presence on these occasions. Even though I have consumed a considerable amount of alcohol since my arrival, I’m surprised that I feel only a little tipsy, not drunk. Perhaps more hours have passed than I realise, or the degree of sheer emotion and nervous energy scorching through my body has burned off the alcohol. The idea of doing something I haven’t done for years suddenly appeals to me.
‘Why not? Just one song.’
He sounds surprised and excited that I agree so readily. I want to keep the mood this way rather than revert back to my previous antagonism. I think of the words of the songs we have just been dancing to and wonder what our relationship is really about, what it means to him? I remember a song we sang and which he used to love to accompany us with improvised percussion on saucepan lids. It was about best friends and was always special between us. Jeremy assists me with the guitar and I ask him to leave me with the band.
‘I’ll wait by the table. Enjoy!’ he encourages, as he kisses me on the cheek. It takes me a little while to get comfortable with the guitar and establish the right key. My fingertips have softened over the years from lack of playing; the strings feel raw and hard against them as I adjust to the sensation and slide my hand along the neck of the guitar. I have to go on feel rather than sight but thankfully I know the words and chords by heart. I begin …
A tear trickles out of my left eye as I finish the song to resounding applause from the band. It felt incredible, to sing again, to play, to do something I thought I’d forgotten. I loved it! I’m euphoric as I blindly thank the band for the opportunity and they help me to put the guitar down. I can’t help but consider I would never have done this if I could see … As I stand up Jeremy swoops in to give me an all-encompassing hug.
‘That was fantastic. You were amazing!’ He pauses. ‘Is that emotion I detect on your cheek, Dr Blake?’
‘I think I found my voice again.’ I wonder why I use these words.
Another drop of emotion finds its way from my eye to my cheek. I can’t understand why I am feeling this way but singing and playing somehow strikes a chord in me, one that hasn’t been accessed for many years. I remember reading once that it was important to understand where your tears come from as they have a direct connection to your heart.
What is he doing to me? Another layer removed.
Jeremy lowers his lips to mine and before I can say anything, he kisses me so exquisitely and delicately, the effect so heavenly, that the feeling and memory will be etched in my psyche forever.
***
Our night on the rooftop comes to a close as I hear the members of the band pack up and say their goodbyes. I feel like I have been on a roller-coaster from the second I arrived in the hotel foyer. I have never experienced such intense emotions in such a whirlwind period of time. I wallow in the sensation of the warm, gentle breeze and relax in Jeremy’s arms. To be honest, I feel exhausted fighting him and exhilarated being so close to him. Maybe I should just let go, like he wants me to. What would be the worst that could happen? He’d never put our professional reputations at risk, it means too much to him. And apart from that, I want to be with Jeremy. Mother, woman, wife, academic, all parts of me want Jeremy, have always wanted him if I’m completely honest with myself, and my body certainly requires no rationalisation. I desperately want to prolong the perfection of the moment we are sharing.