Blind | h.s. [COMPLETE]

Chapter Six

Paisley groaned.

The light might as well have been a bucket of ice water—it was uncomfortable and dampened the fire that had raged in her body only seconds before.

She clenched her eyes shut against the unexpected brightness and buried her face in Harry's neck. The light seemed to affect him too. His now-still fingers remained wedged between their bodies, but his face was curled into her hair to block out the blinding onslaught of the lights.

Several moments passed as they sat frozen, curled into one another. The lights remained on and the elevator was still. No free fall this time around. Paisley guessed the lights were on to stay. Still tucked into Harry, she experimented with opening her eyes enough to get used to the brightness again. It was surprisingly hard. Her eyes protested, blinking and watering for what seemed like minutes.

Finally, she was able to open her eyes all the way. Her shoulders relaxed against Harry's broad chest. And then she realized.

Holy shit! I'm half naked. With a complete stranger. Who currently has his hand up my skirt!

A stranger I've never seen.

Who's never seen me!

The near miss of her orgasm didn't help either. Her body felt strung tight and like fluttery Jell-O all at the same time.

"I guess the power's back to stay this time," Harry said in her ear with a husky, strained voice.

"Um, yeah." Paisley rolled her eyes at her conversational brilliance, certain she was in the process of losing whatever mystique she'd had with the lights out.

Still resting her head on his shoulder, Paisley looked down between them and gaped. Harry's shirt was pushed back behind his ribs and lying just above his toned stomach was a butterfly tattoo. It was stunning against his skin, which wasn't nearly as fair as her own. Before she really thought about it, her finger traced a curve of the black design. His stomach clenched, and he sucked in a breath at the touch. She smiled.

All at once, she had to see the rest of him.

Slowly, she lifted her head and sat back on his lap, keeping her eyes on his stomach all the while. Peeking out from under his waistband was two more tattoos. She could make out that they were vines? She traced her fingers over the leaves. She worried about what he might look like, then hated herself for even thinking about something so shallow. She finally resolved to set those worries aside. Paisley admired so much of what she knew of Harry already, there was no way she wouldn't perceive his internal beauty in his physical appearance, whatever it was.

She fought the instinctive desire to cover herself, to pull the two sides of the gaping silk closed, but she didn't want to hurt his feelings. She didn't want to close herself off to him after all they'd shared.

Her skin tingled all over, as if she could feel the path his eyes blazed as they moved across her body. Finally, she took a deep breath and trailed her eyes up from his stomach, over his tight pecs where two swallows and a number of other miscellaneous tattoos lay, across the hard angles of the strong jaw she'd nibbled, to his face.

She couldn't stop trembling, her body unexpectedly flooded with adrenaline as she drank Harry in through her final sense.

He was...Oh my God!...so damn rugged and...masculine...and just...darkly beautiful.

The enticing angle of his jaw combined with full lips and high cheekbones and a strong brow framing intense green eyes with impossibly long, full eyelashes. His chocolate brown hair lay disheveled loose curls.

He had a face that, with a certain set of his jaw and eyes, could easily appear harsh, intimidating. But she knew he was neither.

With a shaky breath and a hard swallow, Paisley got up the nerve to meet his eyes. He was watching her look him over, his eyes guarded. Not cold, but not warm either. Despite the intimate way they were still touching, Harry's shoulders bunched with tension, and the muscle in his jaw ticked. She got the distinct impression he was bracing himself for rejection.