Behind the Blindfold

Link to BTB Volumes on Amazon: 

http://www.amazon.com/author/nataliewrye

An EXCERPT from “Chapter 2: A Chance Encounter” of Behind the Blindfold: part 1:

When they arrived, they stepped into a room that was drowning in red light. It was so cliché, but dammit if Saturday wasn’t excited as hell to party. The music was thumping and Saturday could feel its bass reverberate through her entire body. She wore a strapless little black dress that night, but the heat of the liquor, the thundering bass and the ambiance had her warm and tingling all over.

She and Kara danced and swayed until a thin sheet of sweat covered them both. Saturday hadn’t felt this good in a long time. In the midst of gyrating and swaying, Saturday swore she saw a recognizable face in the crowded room.

She brushed it off.

She had seen so many familiar people here, people who frequented the gallery and friends of acquaintances. She swung her hips to the beat of the next song until her eyes met his.

Mark was standing on the far side of the room, a drink in his hand, a hungry look on his face. He looked absolutely, positively…hungry. For her? She didn’t know.

Amazing. One day this guy showed up, and now his face was popping up in the most random places. Maybe he had always been around, on the scene, and Saturday simply hadn’t noticed him. Doubtful. Her explanation sounded ridiculous, even to her own ears. No way did a man like Mark not show up on her radar…or any woman’s, if she was being honest.

Saturday pretended not to notice him, then turned in the opposite direction and continued to dance. She just kept moving her body to the music until she felt confident enough to sneak another glance.

She got her answer. There he was…in the same spot…with the same ravenous look in his eyes…eyes that were focused solely on her.

Saturday’s inner self was hugging herself and smiling. Now aware of Mark watching her, Saturday’s movements became slower, her sway more provocative. She felt sexy…and alive. The more she danced, the bolder she became. What had started out as a playful stunt was now an all-out seduction.

This game played itself out in stolen glances, little smirks exchanged between the two, as Saturday’s body and Mark’s eyes worked on enticing each other.

The crowd at the party was pretty thick, not overwhelming, but just enough so that Mark and Saturday’s path of sight was occasionally obstructed. It was made even thicker by the gaggle of women that sometimes lingered nearby to ogle Mark. Nonetheless, Mark’s eyes never left her face.

Hair plastered to her forehead and neck, her bottom lip fixed between her teeth, Saturday twirled to catch Mark’s eye one more time.

But the place that was occupied at the wall was now Mark-free, and Saturday instantly felt the temporary loss in the pit of her stomach. Her dancing slowed to an awkward stop, but at Kara’s urging, she continued, occasionally scanning the now-empty spot.

When her limbs couldn’t take anymore, she staggered wearily and contentedly into the other room and leaned against the kitchen counter.

Breathless and still tingling, she left Kara in the kitchen chatting up some local tattoo artist, and headed to the balcony for a little fresh air.

The tingle became a certified buzz when she recognized the figure overlooking the night view. Her eyes finally got their fill of him now. This time, he wore a jet-black blazer over a white collared shirt with black slacks.

When he turned around, he caught her eye and winked. Her entire face lit up at the sight of him. He looked soo good.

Wanting to appear confident and casual, she strolled slowly towards him, taking precisely measured steps in order to not look like the drunken, infatuated pup she had become.

Mark leaned back, both elbows resting against the balcony rail…Watching her– Waiting.


An EXCERPT from “Chapter 3: Damaged Goods” of Behind the Blindfold: Uncovered

She let the edge linger there for a second, diverting her eyes back to Mark’s table, where he sat transfixed, his eyes frozen on her.

The waitress was still at his table, but he was ignoring her completely now, ostensibly forgetting that she was even there.

He loosened his tie, sitting it at his side. Saturday turned her eyes and attention back to Axe, smiling slyly.

She leaned forward in her chair, giving Mark a full view of the top of her breasts.

He unbuttoned his collar.

She stroked the cloth napkin in her hands.

He pulled up his shirtsleeves.

She took a sip of her water to calm herself. Didn’t work.

Her breathing was shallow and it had nothing to do with the air in the room. Her chest was rising and falling rapidly, her nipples constricting against the cool fabric of her dress.

She glanced at Mark a final time. His eyes were narrowed and intense… starving.

She immediately excused herself to go to the restroom.

She rose gracefully from her chair and walked by Mark’s table on her way to the back of the restaurant.

Within seconds, Mark followed.

Saturday sashayed past the two restroom doors and retreated to the hidden nook of space that lay beyond them. Mark trapped her there against the wall, placing a knee between her thighs.