I take the seat, surprised by how easy it feels to just go along with what he wants. Honestly, it’s simpler than trying to navigate all of this on my own.
I muster up the courage to further the conversation. “You’ve come to these before, then?”
“Every year,” he replies, closing his hand around the glass of whiskey beside him and taking a sip. I catch the scent of it, deep and peaty—I recognize it as one of the most expensive offerings at the bar, but clearly, he has no need to worry about money. His suit is cut to his body, a perfect fit, though its smartness seem to bely some of the tattoos I can see peeking through here and there. There’s something on his chest that reaches towards his throat, and what looks like a spiderweb spun along the top of his hand.
At the base of my spine, I feel something prickle in response to the strange contradiction of the man who sits before me, the darkness that seems to swirl somewhere just out of sight.
“Well,” I remark, shifting slightly in my seat, deciding that the best way to handle this is to just dive head-first into what I came here for. “You know, I heard a lot of gossip about this event before I got my invitation. Almost didn’t come, based on the reputation.”
He lifts his chin, the muscles in his neck tensing slightly as he grins. “Oh, yeah?”
I nod, trailing my finger around the top of my champagne glass. “Oh, for sure,” I reply. “You must have heard them too, right? I mean, about what people get up to here. Shit, maybe you’ve even seen it...”
He leans forward slightly, and a heat rises to my chest in an instant, system responding to him before I can stop it. “Enlighten me.”
The scent of his aftershave trails from his skin, where some dark stubble is barely visible along his sharp jaw. It’s deep and woody and redolent, just like the whiskey in his hand, and I’ve to take in a long breath before I speak again.
“Um,” I murmur, suddenly feeling rather nervous. “I mean... behind these masks, people get up to a lot of stuff they might not otherwise...”
“You could say that.”
“Is that true for you?” I turn the question around on him.
I don’t know where I got the nerve—maybe it’s at the bottom of this glass of champagne, or maybe I’m just fooling myself in any way I can. Either way, he pauses for a moment before he responds, as though he’s genuinely considering his answer.
“Hmm,” he remarks, and, even though I can’t make out most of his features, I’m almost sure I can see his brows furrowing behind the black of his mask. “I don’t feel the need to hide from myself like that.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, sinking my teeth into my bottom lip. I’m aching with curiosity now, even though I’m sure I should know better. Tonight is just about bolstering my ego, nothing more to it than that, and yet, when he looks at me like that, it’s hard not to imagine taking it one step further.
“I mean,” he replies, leaning in a little closer, as though sensing where my mind is at. “I see no need to deny myself what I want. No matter what anyone else might have to say about it.”
My breath catches in my throat. His gaze falls to my lips. I flick my eyes over to his hand, which rests on the table next to us, and I can almost picture how he would feel on me, his fingers wrapped around me, pulling me close.
“People have a lot to say about what you want normally, huh?” I shoot back playfully, cocking an eyebrow. He chuckles.
“You could say that.”
“Why’s that?”
He tips his head to the side for a moment before he responds, considering his answer. “I’m not sure you want to know.”
“Why would I’ve asked, if I didn’t?” I retort.
“Because there are some things that are better kept hidden,” he replies, and he reaches out, tracing his fingertip over my mask. The sudden closeness knocks all the breath from my lungs, and I try to pull myself together. He touches me with a confidence that leaves me breathless.
“Wecouldtake these masks off,” he suggests, as though daring me. “See exactly what lays underneath. Unless there are some secrets you’d like to keep, hmm?”
I know he is pushing boundaries, and God, I don’t want to stop him. However, if I take this mask off, there’s no way someone wouldn’t notice that I work here, and if they find out that I’ve managed to sneak an invitation for myself, I know everything is going to come apart at the seams.
And besides...ifhe takes off that mask, then I’ll be back to myself. Back to the girl who was humiliated, cheated on, and made to feel as though she was worthless. And that’s the last thing I want right now.
I tilt my face into his hand, letting the bare side of my cheek rest against his palm. He smirks again, clearly glad that he has me right where he wants me.
“Let me leave it on,” I murmur, trying my best to sound sultry.
“Why?”
I play stupid. “Why what?”
