Т Нован - Exposure Season 3

Elaine and Katherine walk over, their hair pulled back. They kneel down next to each chair and the feeling begins. I have to stifle a laugh when Robie nearly plunges his fingers up Elaine’s nose. She is not too thrilled either, but she manages to not make a sound and give away her identity. I wonder if that was his plan. Harper simply looks bewildered.

Elaine and Katherine switch places. Once again, Robie tries the finger plunge, now convincing me it was intentional. Harper doesn’t look any less confused.

Robie whispers his answer to Rachel. Harper makes a face. "I think the first one was Elaine, and the second one was Katherine."

Not too bad. Just reversed.

Robie shakes his head. "No, the first was Mama. The second was Elaine."

Ouch! Elaine was just called Mama. Okay, it helps that Mama is a stunning woman and I hope I look that good when I’m sixty and have five children and eleven grandchildren. But, I doubt if Elaine is liking that reply.

"Wrong," Rachel replies not bothering to soften the blow for either of them. She looks over at Tabloid. "Too bad, Harper. I always thought you looked damn good in sunglasses."

Kels and I head upstairs. All in all, it has been a great night. My family, in their own special way, has indeed shown me that I can and will overcome this hurdle too. I feel infused with a renewed sense of hope about my eyesight returning.

No matter what, I’m smart enough to know I wouldn’t be able to do anything without the love and the support of the woman walking beside me.

Where does she get her strength? First, the stuff in L.A. that would have driven most people right over the edge. Now this, and, through it all, she has never missed a step.

I tighten my hold on her arm. She has learned that’s my signal for ‘slow the hell down.’ I wonder how it is that she can still move so quickly given the expanse of her stomach. When she turns to me, I don’t really give her time to speak. My hand travels up her arm, past her shoulder and neck, to her cheek. "Harper?"

"Shh." My thumb brushes her bottom lip, telling me where I need to be and I lean in. Bingo! Damn, I’m good. Oh, she does taste sweet. Like the first time I kissed her in that little room. This time, we don’t have to stop. Finally, I understand from her silent clues she would like to take a breath.

She gasps, her hands grasping my biceps. "My, my, Harper Lee. Where did that come from?"

"My heart," I whisper, my thumb tracing her bottom lip again.

I swear I can hear the smile on her face. "You’re sweet," she tells me, her own hand moving up to my cheek.

"Are you tired?"

"What do you have in mind, Tabloid?"

"Since I can’t play peek a boo right now, how about a game of slap and tickle?"

"Only if I get to slap," Kels’ voice is low and dangerous in my ear. I feel her breath on my face. One of her hands is at my neck, tangled in my hair, and another on my back, gently grazing nails on the flesh under my shirt.

"Sure," I manage to squeak. How does she do that? I started this. How did it get turned around on me? Not that I’m complaining or anything, but, Jesus, no other woman ever had this power over me.

"I may, just for kicks, add a tickle or two." She takes me by the hand, leading me into the unknown.

You know, there may be something to not being able to see. It certainly forces me to utilize my other senses more. I can smell her perfume like never before, the subtle scent intoxicating to me. Her skin is much softer than I had ever really noticed, it plays like silk under my fingertips. I can hear her heart beating from a mile away, so it seems. I listen to her breathe, hearing every little change of pattern, gauging her responses that way.

I hear the door to our room close, very gently, softly. Then her hands travel up my back. "You suggested a game?"

I nod like an idiot.

"Hmm, I’ll bet," she starts again, leading me further into the room, "that I can find lots of fun stuff to do with you."

Well, quit talking about it, Little Roo, and get on with it. Talk is, as they say, cheap.

I am backed up against the bed, my legs hitting the edge. Under normal circumstances, I’d fight the feeling of falling back. However, the mere thought of what my darling spouse has planned for me simply knocks my legs out from under me and down I go.

I’m laying here trying to listen and figure out what she’s doing. This is fun in a very odd sort of way. Kind of like having on a blindfold I can’t take off. Even when we played around with a blindfold before, I tended to cheat and peek from time to time. There’s no peeking now.

As I feel her move in, standing between my legs, I’m really glad I can’t. Every nerve in my body is trying to escape, sending little jolts through me. I’m not even naked yet. Damn, she is good.

She’s gonna kill me tonight. What a way to go, though! They’ll never get the grin off my face. They’ll have to have a closed casket to avoid embarrassing questions.

Soon I hear the thud of my boots hitting the floor after being pulled from my feet. Her fingers travel to the buttons on my jeans, slowly working them free, the back of her hand grazing along the skin of my stomach when she undoes each one. She’s trying to kill me. Through it all, she’s not saying a damn word. I claw at the duvet on the bed. I can feel my nipples getting hard and I growl.

"Temper, temper," she teases.

"Bite me," I tease back.

"I will, don’t worry."

Oh God.

She tugs on the waist of my jeans. "Lift."

I can do that. When I do, everything I had on is suddenly stripped off. It hits the floor with a soft thump. Hmm, naked from the waist down, blind and trapped in a small room with a horny woman. I think I had this fantasy once.

Her hands travel lightly from my knees to where my legs meet my torso. Jesus, I never realized how many nerve endings I had in my body. They are all screaming Kelsey’s name. She’s got a fucking cheerleading squad in there. Suddenly, my shirt pushed up past my navel and her mouth lands there, offering wet, warm kisses.

"Kels…" I groan.

My good hand finds its way to her. Running my fingers through her hair, it’s all I can do to keep from getting demanding. The one thing I’ve learned about making love with my wife is one does not demand. She who demands, suffers.

I’ll try begging. In situations like this, it is the only reasonable response. "Please?"

I feel her nod and move down. She must be kneeling on the floor. I begin to wonder if she’s comfortable, but then all rational thought is torn from my mind.

"Holy Mother!"

Lying in her arms, I am very content to let her hand travel over my body again and again. She’s learning, once more, where everything is. Boy, is she learning. I definitely give her an A plus.

She’s gonna graduate with honors at this rate. Just think, once she has her eyesight back, and after the twins come and I get this body back in shape, she’ll have to take a refresher course. Oh, poor me. I guess I’ll have to tutor her.

I release a deep breath, wiping away a bit of perspiration that settled on my forehead. "Gee, Tabloid, now that I have found the top of my head…"

She chuckles. God, she’s so cocky. I love that about her. I’d missed that about her.

"As I was saying," I give her a poke in the ribs, "I seem to remember you once told me, shortly after we got together, that you could make love to me blindfolded with one arm tied behind your back and it would be the best I ever had."

"Uh huh," she purrs, the smile widening on her face.

"You didn’t lie."

The sun feels warm on my back. I have always loved this room for that very reason — the morning sun spills directly through the French doors and lands on the bed. I am curled around Kels, my right hand resting on the swell of her belly. Our twins are awake too, if the activity level is any indication. I’m still amazed that Kels can sleep through them romping around like this. I guess it’s something you get used to. I’m not sure I could.