Maya's POV
''You can't take the blindfold off unless I tell you to.'' Paul ordered and I snorted. He'd made me get out of the car with a tie covering my eyes. The boys had all kissed me goodbye and promised to see me the next day.
''Fine. Where are my records though?'' I cried
''They're right here beside me, don't worry about them.'' he said, laughing a little.
''Don't you laugh at me, McCartney.'' I threatened
''I'm not.'' he said, nudging me forward.
''If I fall...'' I began to say
''I'll catch you. Now, do you want me to kiss you so you'll shut up?''
''I'll kiss you when I'm not blind.'' I bargained and he sighed, exasperated. I felt him circle my waist with his arms, propping his chin on my shoulder
''Bear with me for five more minutes, please?'' he breathed into my ear. I shivered reluctantly.
''Fine.'' I granted
''Good.'' I could hear the smile in his voice. He edged me forwards a bit more and I heard a door close behind me.
''Fine, now.'' he said , letting me go. I heard his footsteps retreat. I lifted my hands up to my head and untied the knot. I blinked a little, getting used to the light and gasped. Paul was sitting on the foot of the stairs of a white house. It was two storeys high, with a grey stone facade.
''Welcome to, Number 7 Cavendish Avenue.'' he called proudly and I laughed. He took the keys out of his pocket and opened the door with a flourish, inviting me in. I carried my bag and records inside. Paul took them from me and made me follow him. He guided me to his bedroom and set my things down. I placed my hands on my hips, admiring it. The walls were white, lined with Cartier-Bresson pictures in black frames. There was a record player in a corner and a leather couch. A wooden table was placed in the other corner, opposite of the couch, its surface covered in scattered papers of sheet music. A small bookshelf stood beside it, with a few books. I hummed in appreciation and caressed the spines.
"Alors?" he called, suddenly at my side again.
"Hmm." I said doubtfully, just to annoy him. He growled and spun me around, pushing me close to him as he leaned in and closed the distance between us.
"You were saying?" he asked, trying hard not to smile.
"Hmm." I responded again. He brushed his lips softly against mine. My lips parted, expecting another kiss. But there wasn't one.
"So?" he asked again, his gaze smouldering
"Well, hmm." I said, grinning widely. He sighed and pressed his lips against mine again, this time not pulling away. I kissed him fervently, roughly pushing him along with me towards the wall. He chuckled, kissing me back as fiercely and pressing me against it, making me feel the cold stone against my spine and his legs flush with mine. He kissed my neck and I gave a slight moan.
"Now will you tell me?" he asked, his voice low and seductive
"I absolutely love it Paul." I said genuinely.
"Good." he called as he claimed my mouth with his.
Paul's POV
I traced the valley of her waist with my fingertips, watching her tremble slightly at my cool touch. She looked at me when I let my finger follow her silhouette down to where the sheet was covering her. She lit a cigarette, and blew the smoke to the side. The record was playing an album by Errol Garner. The sweet jazz music filled the room, going in tune with the setting colors of the sun.
