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Derrick quirks an eyebrow at me. "I'm going to ask nicely, but not twice. Will you please wear this?"
"I..." I trail off, staring at the strip of black fabric, and feel heat lick through my body. It's an odd feeling—the way that the idea of wearing the blindfold, of being helpless and deprived of vision, sends shivers through me. "Why?"
"Because I'm a very private man, angel. And I'm going to be taking you to my home." He steps forward, fingers tracing over the line of my neck and jaw, making me inhale shakily. "It's not that I don't trust you, Alina. It's just a precaution."
"But..."
"But nothing. You're going to trust me, and when we get there, the blindfold will come off. And if you're a good girl for me, there's a reward."
Reward. Just like when I obeyed him before, and he told me his name.
The word, paired with the way he's looking at me, his dark eyes hot on my face, makes me want to agree immediately. There's something about the way he says that word, the way it rolls off his tongue, that makes my knees weak. My carefully laid plan, all the resistance I built up crumbles and blows away in the wind.
"I promise, you can trust me."
My brain screams at me to stop, that this is a bad idea, that I don't really know this man. And yet, I find myself nodding.
"Good girl," he says, and that bolt of lust hits me again. "Let me help you."
Derrick takes another step into the house and slides the blindfold over my eyes. My vision goes completely dark, and I sway.
"I've got you," he says, and the rumble of his voice in my ear is a comfort.
"I know." I force a smile onto my face even though he can't see me. "It's a little disorienting, but I'm fine."
"I'll be with you the whole time, angel."
"All right. I'm ready."
Derrick takes my hand and leads me out the door. His car is running, and I can tell when we're moving as the world tilts around me, and the soft sound of tires on pavement reaches my ears.
"Doing alright, Alina?"
I jump a little when his arm slides around my shoulders. "Yes." I sigh, leaning my head on his shoulder. He smells good, like cedar, and some sort of cologne. The scent comforts me. "How far are we going?"
"Not far. My place isn't in town."
"Oh, where do you live, exactly?"
"Alina." His tone has a warning edge.
"I'm sorry." I chew on my lip, and Derrick laughs softly.
"Don't be. I like it when you're curious. Just not about this."
His tone leaves room for no argument, and the reminder of his insistence on privacy has a million thoughts running through my head again. What is he hiding? What is Derrick's deal? Who is he? I decide to let it slide for the moment. Maybe if I wait until we're further into the evening and have had more time in each other's presence, he'll be more forthcoming.
Or, at the very least, more pliable.
A few minutes later, Derrick pulls the car to a stop, and his seat belt unbuckles. "We're here. Give me your hand, Alina."
I do as I'm told, and a moment later, the passenger side door opens and my feet hit cool, damp grass.
"Watch your step," he says, guiding me to the side.
A second later, my hand touches something smooth, and a door creaks open. I gasp, stepping back as a blast of warm air greets me, and I take a deep breath, reveling in the smell of fresh bread.
"Alina." His voice is low, and I shiver as he gently pushes me inside. "Up the stairs. I'm right behind you."
