REKINDLED by S.M. Griscom
When Maggie went into the bathroom to change, Tom picked up the phone and dialed eight zero for room service. “Ah, yes, this is Tom Draper in room 33.” He flipped through the menu and, keeping his voice low, spoke into the receiver. “Hmmm … I’d like a dozen of the Kumamoto oysters on the half shell. Yes, hot sauce. Two filet mignons, medium rare. Yes, baked potato, everything … ah, a bottle of the, ah …” He picked up the half-empty bottle of champagne and glanced at the label. “Schramsberg, Blanc De Noirs …” He glanced toward the bathroom and lowered his voice even more, “and a bowl of the … fresh strawberries and whipped cream … Oh, and the double chocolate fudge tower surprise. Just one.” We’ll share, he mused, unable to stop grinning like a kid on Christmas morning when he thought of what he had in mind for those strawberries and the chocolate tower. “Yeah, thanks.” Tom hung up the phone as Maggie stepped out from the bathroom and he looked at her as if he hadn’t seen her in ten years. He knew his eyes were wide with the look of a hungry tiger, but he didn’t give a damn.
Her low-cut gold strapless gown shimmered against the slow sinking sun, glowing through the small window to the deck outside. She twirled around, revealing the even lower back; any lower and she’d be showing some crack. Of course, he knew she would have worn a shawl out to dinner, but the dress was completely for his benefit and he loved that she was wearing it.
“Okay, Maggie May. Are you ready for something new and exciting?”
“Um … yes,” she said with the sound of apprehension in her voice. She pinched her lips together and Tom figured she was thinking of the last time he’d suggested they try something new and exciting. It involved her straddling him backwards while he tried to stand while holding her up for more impact. They both ended up on the floor with bruised fannies and Maggie had a concussion from hitting her head against the dresser on the way down.
“Don’t worry, Mags. I promise no acrobats.”
“How did you know that’s what I was thinking?”
“You have a terrible poker face.”
Tom was extremely pleased with himself for pulling this off so far and that Maggie was willing to go along with what he had in mind. He knew she had been, well, less than pleased the way their sex life had been over the past several years and he wanted to take this weekend to change things. He had secretly always wanted to play this particular game with Maggie and he hoped she liked it as much as he thought she might.
She laughed as he took her hand and led her to the bed. His cock was already hard with anticipation as he leaned close, hardly able to contain himself, breathed heavily against her ear and whispered, “Sit down here and I’ll be right back.”
~ ~ ~
Tom opened the closet and rustled around in the suitcase Maggie had packed and she wondered what he was looking for. He must have found whatever it was, because he released a sigh of relief and walked back to her with his hand behind his back.
“What is that?”
He grinned. If the devil himself was standing alongside him right now, she didn’t think his grin could have been any more sinister looking than Tom’s was.
“I want to blindfold you.”
Susan Griscom writes paranormal romance, but her playing field delves into a different milieu than the usual vampires and werewolves. Some day she might write about fangs and fur, but for now she prefers sticking to strong heroes and heroines confronted with extraordinary forces of nature, powers and abilities beyond the norm, mixed with a little romance to get the blood boiling.
A self-proclaimed dreamer, her favorite pastime is reading, but writing is her passion.
Susan, a member of Romance Writers of America, lives in the Sierra Foothills in Northern California with her very romantic husband, her small yippy dog, Riley, and her humongous black cat, Saké. Her family consists of his and hers; four wonderful sons and one beautiful daughter, four grandchildren and two more on the way. Susan has said that when a story takes hold and pulls her into the fantasy, that's magic.
You can visit Susan at http://www.susangriscom.com/ or email her at firstname.lastname@example.org or email@example.com.