Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 68483 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68483 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
I promised I would and went upstairs. After my shower, I raised the lid on the white gift box on my bed and murmured, “Oh, how pretty.”
The box contained a robe and a pajama set consisting of shorts and a tank top, all in the most gorgeous dark blue silk. It felt soft and luxurious against my skin.
There was also a note, which read: Please meet me in the den, and don’t come into the kitchen. I want dinner to be a surprise. I did as I was told.
The den was a comfortable room at the back of the ground floor. It was one of the rooms we used most often, and it contained an overstuffed couch and chairs, built-in shelves crammed with books and board games, a fireplace, two large windows, and a glass door to the backyard.
Today, there was a new addition to the room—a large beanbag, which was draped with two fuzzy blankets. I settled in between the blankets and grinned. I had no idea what Micah’s theme was, but so far he’d made it extremely comfortable.
Micah came into the room a few minutes later. He’d taken a shower, and his damp hair formed loose curls. He was dressed in black silk pajama pants and a matching robe, and he smiled at me as he handed over two things—a cocktail, and a blindfold. Then he leaned down and kissed me before saying, “Thank you for the cookbook. It’s absolutely perfect.”
“I’m glad you like it. Thank you for my outfit.”
“You’re very welcome. I selected it because I thought it’d feel nice against your skin, and it ties in to the idea I had for tonight’s dinner,” he said, as he went over to a built-in sound system and turned on some music at a low volume. “This meal is meant to be a sensory experience. I want to feed you different things while you’re blindfolded—unless you absolutely hate this idea, in which case we don’t have to do it.”
I smiled at him and said, “It sounds fun,” and his face lit up.
“Great! I prepped most of the food earlier, so I’ll go ahead and bring it. It’ll be covered, so you don’t have to wait for me with the blindfold on.” He hurried from the room.
I sipped my cocktail, which was light and refreshing with citrus notes, and while I waited, I found myself wondering what Micah had been like with the men he’d dated. According to him, all his past relationships had been disasters. He was such a great guy though, so I just didn’t understand why that would be the case.
Did he dote on me just because he had nothing but time and very little to distract him? Or did this work so well because we weren’t actually dating, so there were no expectations to live up to? He could be whoever he wanted to with me, and he could act out his ideal relationship within this perfect little bubble, with no outside pressure or influences.
It could be that I was getting an idealized version of Micah Mazari…but somehow, I didn’t think so. It seemed like he was showing me exactly who he was, without trying to dress it up or come across a certain way. Maybe it just took someone like me—someone who valued kindness above all else—to truly appreciate him.
He joined me a few minutes later, carrying a tray with three plates covered by silver cloches. “I hope you enjoy this,” he said, as he put the tray on the coffee table and knelt beside me. “It’s all bite size, and like I said, I’m planning to feed you.” He hesitated and asked, “Is this too weird?”
“Nope, it’s not weird at all.”
After I traded my glasses for the blindfold, he started with what turned out to be fresh produce. One by one, he fed me a ripe raspberry, a strawberry, a slice of kiwi fruit, and bits of different melons. Each one was a unique experience, because I never knew what to expect. It made me concentrate on the flavors and appreciate them in a way I never had before.
After I ate a cube of mango, he gently cupped my face between his palms and murmured, “You have a little juice on your mouth.”
Micah leaned in and licked my lower lip with a flick of his tongue. Then he kissed me. The softness of his lips contrasted with the slight rasp of his short beard against my skin. I reached for him, and he deepened the kiss before whispering, “I couldn’t resist.”
When I said, “Come closer,” he settled onto the beanbag with me, and I climbed onto his lap and held on to him. We went through the rest of the meal like that, with him cradling me on his lap and feeding me.
There was something profoundly intimate and sensuous about what we were doing, and I’d never experienced anything like it. With the blindfold in place, I had to put all my trust in him, and he didn’t let me down. It made me feel cared for, and it showed me just how selfless Micah could be. This was all for my benefit, an experience he’d created just because he thought I’d enjoy it. To me, that was remarkable.