The Perfect 1

by CORY CYR

  He shook his head, handing me the potholders by his glass. “You do realize I can’t eat that entire thing by myself. I want you to at least try some. I swear you’ll love it.”

  I laughed richly. “Yeah, we’ll see. It’s been years since I’ve eaten seafood, unless you count albacore.”

  “A can of tuna is a poor man’s seafood. You never get full flavor unless you eat an actual fish baked to perfection by a master.” He chuckled.

  I grabbed the baking sheet with an oven mitt. I had to admit it smelled good. Herbal, not fishy. I wrinkled my nose because it still resembled a fish. I pulled back the foil carefully. It looked flaky and moist.

  “Should we eat in the dining room instead of the kitchen? This is a special occasion. I’m actually going to consume fish. I mean, a dish that was prepared by a master.” I teased.

  “Sure, just give me plates and steer me in the right direction.”

  I handed him dishes, and I took silverware and our wine glasses myself. I nudged him forward. We had developed techniques to teach him ways to navigate through different rooms. He got very annoyed when I guided him by using my hands. He wanted to be independent.

  “Table is on your immediate left.” His one hand traced the edge before he set the plates down. I arranged the dishes, putting our glasses next to each setting, along with silverware.

  Once I returned to the kitchen, I used a spatula to scoop out the fish, but it fell apart as soon as I tried. “Sorry, but this swordfish broke in half before I could transfer it to a serving plate.”

  “It’s supposed to,” he said, his height filling the doorframe. “That’s how you know it’s cooked well. It doesn’t have to be attractive, just edible. Remember, blind guy here.” He joked.

  Kind of like me. Not much to look at but edible. Rather than attempt to remove our main course from the baking sheet, I squeezed past Lincoln to retrieve our plates.

  “Goddamn, you smell good. You always wear amazing perfume. Do you use that scent everywhere?” His voice was clearly sexual.

  “It’s body spray, not perfume. Now let’s try this disgusting food.”

  I placed a large portion on his plate, along with rice and a few sourdough rolls. In turn, I filled most of my plate with rice and bread, leaving a tiny spot for said seafood.

  We sat side by side.

  “Jesus, this is awesome.” He moaned. I hadn’t heard that sound since this afternoon when we had sex. “Eating this really makes me miss the ocean,” he said, taking another forkful. “Have you tried it yet?”

  “Nope, working up the courage.” I pushed the fish to one side of my plate.

  “Here, give it a try, for me.”

  I was surprised as he waved a fork in my face with a small amount of swordfish on it. I closed my eyes, wishing this were more than his wanting to prod my mouth to taste food. I hated that none of this was real and whatever foundation we were erecting was being built on deception. I wondered how our dynamics would change if he knew who I’d been and what I’d become. But being with him now added something new to the mix. Being with Lincoln balanced me out. In one week, I felt more freedom than I’d felt in the last thirteen years, maybe in my entire life.

  He might be without his eyes, but he’d helped me catch a glimpse of a life I could have. Of course, it could never be with a man like him. I was too conflicted because I knew the only reason he enjoyed my company was because he thought I was pretty. The truth was I would always live in fear of his sight returning. He’d be furious I’d never confided in him. How could I? For the first time in years, I looked forward to waking up. I no longer yearned for death or lingered in my own self-loathing. I had another to care for.

  I leaned forward, allowing his fork to touch my lips. I opened my mouth and tasted the white fish. Damn, it was divine. I groaned.

  He smiled, coming close enough I could feel his warm breath. His eyes lingered on me as my hand covered his on the fork, pushing it back. “Aha! I knew you’d love it.”

  “How did you know? I could have groaned because of you stepping on my foot,” I said, my eyes darting down, his foot resting on top of mine.

  He quickly moved it. “Sorry. No excuse except it was a comfortable resting place.” He chuckled. “Now tell me the truth. The swordfish is to die for.”

  I took a napkin and dotted my lips. “I’ll admit it wasn’t half bad, at least not as horrible as I’d thought. You are a worthy cook, Lincoln Bass.”

  He nodded in acknowledgment. “I’m glad you like it. I so would have hated to be wrong.”

  “Yeah, I’m getting that. How about we finish up here, then start on chapter seven before I fall asleep?” I yawned. “Sorry, but dinner has me wanting a nap.”

  His brows rose in question. “Oh, really? Well, I suppose we could nap before we work.”

  I shook my head as I gathered our plates. “I’m sure our definitions of nap time differ.”

  He leaned back in his chair, draining the last of his wine. “You yawn. I get horny after mealtime. Okay, let me take that back. My brain is rampant with all the things I want to do to you. I retract that statement—all the things I am going to do. I hope you’re ready, because I have much more revising to do in this book, and many of those chapters have extremely detailed sex scenes. I have to make sure they're workable. I don’t want to ever be accused of being neglectful in my research.”

  “I’m sure. Work first; play later,” I stated, loading the dishwasher.

  “I’m thinking it may be both. I tend to love both jobs.”

  “I’m sure you do. Can you bring me our utensils? Just follow my voice.”

  He paced carefully on bare feet as he came toward me. It hadn’t taken long, but he had filled out and looked more like the man on his book jacket.

  I reached out to take the silverware from him.

  He grasped my hands, pulling me to him. “Please let me kiss you or at least tell me why I can’t,” he pleaded.

  I twisted free, stepping back. “I will give you everything but that. Please stop asking. I’m afraid us having sex wasn’t the wisest thing. Especially if you want more than I’m willing to give.”

  “I like lip action,” he stated in a whiny voice.

  If he could see my face, he would see me biting back a retort. I was sure oral sex would push a kiss to the sidelines since he enjoyed lip action. As long as he kept his hands off my face, I would allow anything. I was imagining this to be my own version of a sex life. I’d never been what you would call promiscuous, but I’d had enough lovers to be somewhat educated in the art of certain carnal pleasures.

  Lincoln was my first younger man. Of course, having sex once didn't make an affair. But I needed this, and more, I desired it. I hungered for him. Every inch was hard bodied and muscled. And his cock was a sculpted work of art—perfection. His hair, facial features, and those eyes that were beyond description. And his lips were devastatingly erotic. Plump and bow-shaped, shaded with a neutral color. They always appeared shiny because he was constantly wetting them with his tongue.

  Yes, kissing him would ruin everything he found appealing about me. I had thought about it, his mouth pressed to mine. Just imaging it made me wet with want. At this rate, working would be difficult, especially when we got to those sex scenes. Yes, everything about Lincoln should make me envious. If he were another person, I’d despise him for his perfection.

  “Hello, Jensyn, you still here?”

  His question jolted me back to reality. “Yeah, I’m here. I got momentarily distracted.”

  He patted his chest. “It was this body, huh? Fixated on future pleasures all this will bring you?”

  “You really are an arrogant ass,” I taunted.

  “You should have known me when I had sight. I was slightly self-absorbed.”

  “Haven’t changed much, have you? Well, except for the whole I’m blind thing.”

  He pretended to look wounded. “Wow, you really know how to skewer me. Are you sure you aren’t related to my ed
itor? She can be kind of a bitch, too.”

  “I’m thinking the only thing we have in common is we both were fucked by you. There are men that love bitches, you know. Maybe you’re one of them.

  “She pursued me. I’m guessing all of this was hard to resist.” He grinned, sweeping his hands down his body.

  “Yup, I guess that’s it. Your wit and charm being so key to your personality, I doubt being extremely tall, muscular, with erotically beautiful eyes and an ample package dangling between your legs has much to do with it.” I chuckled.

  “You think I’m well-hung? As in compared to who or what?”

  I smacked him on the arm. “Come on. Let’s finish, and just maybe I’ll let you dazzle me later with that big cock.” I pursed my lips as the words left my mouth. When did I become so brazen?

  Bravery had come easy because I felt at ease with him. I knew everything happening was wrong. Lucas had sent me to aid in his recovery and help finish a book. All of this was edging on a sexual tryst. I knew Lincoln would never be sullied by any of this. I was probably of little consequence since he’d had so many women before me. The man had shrouded his emotions in a hard shell, trying to numb the anguish of losing his most-valuable asset, his sight. In the last few days, I’d seen moments when that rough exterior had begun to crack. It was difficult pretending to be accepting of what might come after.

  For me, it had happened after the last surgery. I knew then this was as good as it got. I could bury my scars under heavy foundation and concealer, but I would always know the exact location and measurement of each imperfection that marred my face. It was difficult putting on the pretense of an everyday routine. That the nightmare you endured didn’t affect you. That you’d be okay, that you could get through it. The truth was I would never be all right, unless I got out from underneath my persona as the “Perfect 10.”

  For Lincoln, it might be different. Even though I was the same age when I had my incident, he had attributes I never had. He was strong and defiant. If he were to be blind permanently, he would find a way to work around it. Once he got over the initial shock, he would fight his way back. I admired that about him.

  I was going to stay and finish helping him with revisions. We’d be lovers during that time, and whatever this thing was between us, it would always be just a charade to me. It was challenging when I had so many secrets.

  It was almost midnight when we finished. “Reread that last paragraph, would you?” he asked, sounding exhausted.

  I read it slowly as my eyes began to blur. “Anything else, because I am completely fried? I can’t even see anymore; my eyes hurt.” I covered my mouth and bit my knuckles, realizing my words. “Shit, sorry.”

  “You don’t have to be. I’m glad you forget because it helps me forget it, too. I have eye drop vials in the bathroom. Try those. I guess even with blindness, your eyes can still get fatigued and dry.”

  I padded to his bathroom and found the drops. They quickly soothed the irritation.

  “All better. I think I can see now,” I said, sitting and swiveling in my chair.

  He sighed. “Oh, that it would be as easy to resurrect my vision.”

  I reached out, grabbing his hand. “How is it you have adjusted so well to your circumstances? There are times you truly amaze me.”

  I felt his foot bump my chair as he pulled me closer. “Was one of those times this afternoon? Because I plan on astounding you later.”

  I squeezed his hand. “I’m serious. You seem to be handling what happened to you well.”

  “You know what they say. Fake it ‘til you make it. I should have been a Shakespearean actor, appearing in one of his great tragedies.” He paused, kissing my hand, rolling his eyes. “I assume that’s okay. Jesus, now I’m Darcy from Pride and Prejudice.”

  He joked, but there was sadness behind those arresting, unseeing eyes. “I’m just saying I admire your tenacity,” I stated softly.

  Lincoln dropped my hand. “I’m good at covering up my feelings. Having you here has helped curb some of my emotional anxiety. The truth is my life is in a state of turmoil right now. I appreciate you helping me with this book, but as you stated before, you won’t be here forever. Evidently, what happened to me will become public knowledge. I can’t stay in hiding forever. Those fucking vultures will come looking for me, and the sudden exposure… I may not be able to deal with it. Right now, it’s you, Lucas, and my editor. It’s easy to disguise my attitude with all of you, but eventually, I may come apart.”

  “I don’t believe that. You’re too strong willed. I don’t know you well, but I think you’ll gracefully handle everything thrown at you.”

  “Gracefully, huh? I’m just good at wearing a mask of indifference when what I really want to do is jump off that cliff out there. But I’m much too vain kill myself. And before I would even consider any of that, I’d have to fuck you again. It’s all I can think about. It’s all that keeps me motivated right now,” he said dryly.

  I stood, pulling him up with me. It took all the resolve I could muster not to kiss him. We were cut from the same cloth, a two-sided coin, matching bookends. I led him to his bedroom. I had cleaned the space and washed the sheets a few days ago. I pulled the blinds and opened the glass doors. The breeze off the ocean cooled the room immediately.

  I stepped outside, dragging Lincoln with me. The terrace was pretty. Chairs and a table with decorated pots holding various kinds of plants. Three surfboards leaned against the wall, as well as a kayak.

  “It’s nice out here,” I stated warmly.

  He broke my hold with his hand as he traced the wall. His fingers swept deftly over the surfboards. “Just another reminder of shit I’ll never be doing again. I should get rid of these.”

  I shook my head, standing behind him, placing a hand across his back. “You don’t know what comes after all this. You said the doctors seemed optimistic you might get your sight back. It sounds to me as though you’ve lost hope. I’ll never believe that. I read your bio. You’ve attempted some dangerous stuff. Frankly, I don’t know if you’re brave or stupid, but I do know there doesn’t appear to be anything that scares you. This too shall pass. I promise it will get better.”

  I was beginning to sound like a therapist. I’d had plenty of experience with them, so I knew the drill. If this advice was worth giving, why couldn’t I follow it? The reality was even if he were blind forever, he would still be attractive. His disability would be viewed by everyone as an unfortunate accident. He’d still be famous and write. I also counted on the fact that he’d still find a way to accomplish many of his extracurricular activities. It had been different for me. I hadn’t had any talent except my face and body, and I needed both to model.

  I began unbuttoning his shirt. He stayed silent. Once it was undone, he shrugged it off. His skin reminded me of deeply polished bronze. His tan had faded, but not his coloring from culture. I leaned forward, flicking my tongue in a circular motion around his nipple. His length swelled as he nudged against me. He blanketed his arms around me, pressing his cock against my body. I drew back a hiss as he rubbed himself against my sex.

  “We need to move this party inside,” I whispered.

  “No one is around this early in the morning. You have me so revved up; I may just fuck you here on my patio.”

  I leaned my head against his chest. “Seriously, first the desk and now the concrete. You seem to forget I have old bones. Can’t we do it in a bed, or are you only good on alternate surfaces?”

  He scooped me up and held me against his bare chest. “Don’t worry. I may be blind, but my dick has GPS. At least to the bed.” He laughed, tossing me down on the soft mattress. “Now normally this would be where I’d demand you strip, but since I can’t see shit, I’ll ask nicely.”

  “How about you undress me?” I purred.

  His hands slid along my legs until he found my ankles, grabbing them both. “Just give me a break because I’m doing all this from memory. Not the fucking part, just the f
oreplay. Hey, maybe it’s like coloring by numbers, eh?”

  “Very funny. You going to talk all night, or can I expect action?”

  He flashed a stare in my direction as a mischievous grin appeared. “Actually, I’m in the mood for a snack. I promised to eat you, and that’s what I plan to do.” As he unzipped my shorts, I had déjà vu from this afternoon. I shimmed them down, and his fingers traced my panties. “Jesus, you’re soaked. Damn, this is going to be a happy meal.”

  I stretched my arm across my eyes, inhaling a quiet sob. What he was doing felt too good. His touch made my pussy pulse with fury. His thumbs pinched the sides of my underwear, rolling them down. I hadn’t waxed in years. It was only after the encounter on the beach that I began to trim myself. He removed both articles of clothing, leaving me naked from the waist down. I felt embarrassed, yet I knew he couldn’t see me.

  “I didn’t ask before, but are you disappointed I’m not smooth and bare?” I questioned quietly.

  He placed a kiss right above my pussy. “Are you kidding? I love the fact that you chose not to have the texture of a prepubescent teenage girl, but rather a woman.”

  My legs quivered as he spread them. “Are you nervous or excited? Just look at how drenched you are,” he remarked, holding up a wet finger. He stood, removing his shorts and releasing his cock. I marveled because it appeared thicker and the crown engorged. “If I’d waited any longer, it would have snapped in two.” He went on his knees as he pulled my legs close to the edge of the bed, hoisting them, one on each of his shoulders. I watched as he wet two fingers, dividing my cleft.

  I moaned.

  “Can you relax? You feel tense.”

  I had the perfect vantage point. I’d always had my eyes closed with other men. It was kind of liberating to witness everything without him being aware.

  “Oh my God,” I squealed as his tongue entered me. My entire body went slack as he began to explore aggressively from side to side. He buried his tongue deeply, circling, probing. The very tip he curled upward to tease my hard nub. “I’m sorry,” I murmured on a sob, my legs becoming stiff as plywood.