To stop myself from blushing, I look away and walk toward the bed, running my hands along the bedding. I’m not quite sure what Egyptian cotton feels like, but this buttery soft duvet is probably exactly it.
Each breath comes out a bit more erratic than the last as I try my best to keep control. Until I see him reach for his mask. “Wait,” I yell out, stalling his movement, startling even myself. “Do you think we cankeep the masks on?”
It’s a quick decision, one I didn’t even know I was going to make. There’s a real chance that if I saw what he actually looks like, I would spend the rest of my life looking for him in every crowd, and that’s not what I want from this.
And as bad as it sounds, I really, really want to imagine a certain face in my head, which I can’t do if I know what this man looks like. Maybe it makes me a terrible person but I can beat myself up about it later.
“Masks stay on,” he agrees, eyes once again sweeping along my body. “Everything else comes off.”
She asks for themasks to stay on and I’m almost too quick to agree. Maybe it makes me an asshole, and maybe I’ll have to answer for this at some point if pearly gates are in my future, but it would be worth it. If her mask stays on, it would make it that much easierto imagineher.
The moment I saw Psyche, my stomach hit the floor. Tunnel vision kicked in and she was all I saw. I don’t even remember what the blonde was telling me when I left her but I was being pulled helplessly across the room by some invisible force.
Psyche’s willowy cadence evokes a softness inside of me I associate with exactly one person. The one person I’m not allowed to have, the one person I know I would never see here, the one person I can never fully get out of my head. When Psyches speaks, it’s as if Harper stands before me, but I know not to believe in wishful thinking.
Psyche.How ironic. Psyche is Eros' counterpart, his wife.
I never understood why Maxine insists on code names during these types of events or her insistent need to give everyone a nickname in general. She’s done it for as long as I’ve known her. Maxine was the one to give me the name Eros, years ago when we first met while getting our MBA’s, something about being from Cupid and looking the way I did. Two years in school was all we needed to solidify our friendship. We couldn’t be more different but Maxine is my actual best friend. Nothing like the surface level friendship I have with Dan, one that only works if he’s getting what he needs out of me and I get… Well, there’s nothing I need from him so I guess it’s a bit one sided.
For her fortieth birthday, I gave her enough start-up funds for Midnights, and my only caveat was I got a designated room. She was all too happy to oblige.
Psyche’s fingers fiddle with the slit of her dress, with one arm crossing her body to hold onto the other. Nerves pouring out of her like rapid rivers.
“Psyche.” Her head snaps to the sound of my voice and I suck in the urge to groan. I’ve been near her for all of two minutes and she’s already everything I want.
Maxine has an affinity for women who like to test the boundaries she sets. I, however, prefer women who put their trust in me and know that with a little time, I will give them everything they crave.
“You’re nervous.”
She shifts in her heels and breathes out a laugh. “Am I that obvious?”
Crossing the room I make my way to her, planting myself in front of her in the same fashion as I did in the main room. “No, you’re not, I just happen to be very good at noticing details.” With very little effort, I sink to my knees before her and notice the quick change in her breath. “While I get you comfortable, why don’t you tell me about yourself,” I say, hoping maybe an exchange in detailswill help loosen her up. But when my fingers curl around her ankle, she stiffens. “It doesn’t have to be anything personal, it can be anything you want.”
She silently watches me through the openings of her mask but doesn’t shrink out of my grasp when I slowly lift her foot and slip the strap out of the buckle around her ankle. The heel falls off her foot and I set it to the side.
Still not a word, so I do the same to the other and allow myself the simple pleasure of finally touching her soft skin.
“Thank you,” she murmurs as I stand and watch her toes flex lightly against the hardwood floor. “What do you want to know?”
Circling around her, not unlike a hawk searching for prey, I don’t answer until I’m at her back. “How about why you're here?” My fingers thread through the strands of her dark hair and Harper flashes through my mind. There’s a special place in the pits of Hell for me, I’m sure of it, but I can’t bring myself to care. I brush the silky locks to the side to expose the top of her zipper and I’m seconds away from dragging it down when she responds.
“I’m very”—she pauses for a second—“new to this.”
My movements halt. I already know it’s her first time here, so did she mean clubs in general, or God forbid—“New to sex?” I reluctantly question, trying mybest to keep panic out of my voice. That is the last thing I need. I can teach a woman who is new to the club, but I don't know if I can teach a virgin. I can, but I don’t know if I want to.
“What? No. I’m not a virgin I just meant experiences like this, the club, with a person I don’t know and can’t see. Things like that,” she rushes to say.
Relief washes over me.
“Do you want to go through the list?” I ask, running the tips of my fingers along her shoulders.
She shakes her head. “I’m afraid I’m a little boring.” Psyche turns her head to look at me through the mask. If I could see her, I’m sure a blush would be running across her cheeks.
“Impossible,” I say, dragging my fingertips across her shoulder blades. Every featherlight touch darkens my vision until she is the only thing I see at the end of my tunnel vision. “What is it that you want?”
Psyche’s heartbeat thuds against my finger tips continue to skate along her back and down her spine. Everything I’m made of, every molecule, every atom, wants to consume her until we’re nothing but a tangled mess of limbs and sweat.
Through the mask the faint scent of jasmine envelopes me as her head drops back, resting against my shoulder asa deep sigh pushes from her chest. It’s my favorite type of noise, heavy with want and the sense she's starving for my touch.
