Bruce couldn't lie and say he wasn't nervous. Darcy might be up and raring to go, so to speak, but what would happen if he couldn't rise to the occasion? He'd just hurt her and disappoint her and he didn't want to think about that. It had been playing on his mind since she'd asked him and god, if it didn't turn him on to think about Darcy taking control. The blindfold was a stroke of genius, he thought, and loved the idea. It'd take so much panic and worry out of the fact that Darcy was a man and not his porcelain goddess.
Tossing his keys on the side as he came in, Bruce dumped his files from work on the table. "Hey honey," he called, spotting her on the couch, mindlessly channel surfing. "Have a good day?"