I tried to push those thoughts aside as we slipped into the Beverly Hills restaurant together. As usual, Adam attracted a lot of female notice, which he either was unaware of or completely ignored for my sake. We had a quiet meal at the back and I was proud that I was feeling so much better that I ate a normal amount of food and kept it down without one bit of nausea.
Someway, somehow, my body knew that it wasn’t going to get any more poison and it was bouncing back. Reduced white blood cell count or no, I was starting, more than ever, to feel somewhat normal. Except for my faded looks.
But no matter. I was feeling good and Adam was ridiculously yummy all dressed up for his night on the town. I was going to try again and put the moves on him. He couldn’t hold out forever.
“Is it dancing?” I asked, when he wouldn’t tell me what he had planned for after dinner.
“Nope.” His dark eyes twinkled with mischief in the low light.
“Is it something on my bucket list?”
He smiled, my favorite dimple appearing just below his mouth. Sometimes when he did that, it stole my breath. “It might be.”
“You’re annoying,” I said, folding my arms with mock irritation. “It’s your birthday. I’m the one who is supposed to be surprising you.”
“Well, you know…control freaks don’t take surprises very well.”
My smile faltered for a moment and there was a long pause before the waiter showed up and Adam made a point of telling him that we didn’t need to order dessert.
Then he turned back to me. “Don’t worry…this is something I’m going to enjoy, too. It will be your gift to me.” He winked.
My hopes were soaring high when we slipped back into the town car, especially when Adam hit the button to raise the partition between the driver and us. I’d never listed limo sex specifically on the now-infamous bucket list but maybe he’d decided to substitute that for the apparently awkward sixty-nine?
He bent to kiss me and my heartbeat raced. It was a light, affectionate kiss. It was playful and there was something in his eyes that corroborated that feeling. A spark, a twinkle. It wasn’t his usual look of passion or lust but I’d take it. I was beginning to regret that I’d worn panties under my dress but figured he’d resolve that situation easily enough with one of his famous panty-shredding maneuvers. My mouth went dry at the thought of it.
Then he reached into the seat pocket in front of him and pulled out a scrap of black silk.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“You’ll see,” he replied. Turning in one quick move, he slipped it over my head. A blindfold.
Oh, so we were going to get kinky? I sat up straight.
“I’m getting excited now,” I said, reaching for him.
He pressed another long, lingering kiss on my mouth. “You should be,” he whispered darkly and I shivered with anticipation.
The thought of his hands, his mouth on me made my entire body come to life, flushing with heat. Limo sex. Hmmm. When I got home I’d quickly add this one to my bucket list and then just as merrily tick it off. The first time we’d be together in over four months. Oh yes, I was hotly anticipating it.
The next thing I knew, he slipped headphones on me. Big heavy ones. The kind that canceled out the noise outside. He lifted one of them and said, “I’m going to put some music on right now. No peeking until we get there.”
“Get where?”
He laughed. “Nice try.” The next thing I knew, I was being treated to the sounds of the eighties from Adam’s playlist. “Sweet Dreams” by Eurythmics.
I sat back with a sigh and concentrated on the motions of the car. Adam didn’t touch me. So much for the limo sex. I quietly hoped he had something even more exciting in mind. After getting my heart set on him and me together in the back of the car as it drove down the long stretch of Wilshire Boulevard, anything else was going to be a letdown.
A half hour later, the car was slowing, turning and parking. Adam’s hand closed around mine and tugged me toward the car door as I felt him rise and get out. Like a wobbly newborn giraffe, I did the same and he steadied me against him. I raised my hand almost automatically to the blindfold but he pulled it away, planting a kiss on my forehead. He wrapped a solid arm around my waist and pulled me along beside him. I tried to concentrate on any sounds that might escape the relentless beat of the Pet Shop Boys.
We walked on concrete and it was really windy. My skirt blew up before Adam folded his coat around my shoulders. After a few hundred yards of walking, we made it to a set of stairs. I tentatively lifted my foot to rest on the first step—textured metal to make it nonslip—but almost stumbled. Adam then lifted me and carried me up the rest of the way. I clamped my arms around his neck and we entered a building at the top of the stairs. When he put me back on my feet, I held a hand out to steady myself, landing on an upholstered wall.