“Are you wearing it because there are things you’d be too scared to ask for otherwise?” he wonders aloud, as his thumb traces down my cheek, towards the edge of my lip. It just catches against my mouth, sweet and soft and brief enough that it makes the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.
And, as I look into his eyes, I know this is my chance. My chance to admit to everything that I came here for, as difficult as it might be to come clean.
“Maybe,” I breathe.
“Come on, you can do better than that,” he urges, nudging me a little further yet, clearly not willing to let me dodge his question any further.
“I... I’ve never done anything like this before,” I confess, the words tumbling out of my mouth before I can stop them. The air between us feels rough, raw, full of want.
“And do you want to now?” he asks.
I nod. He catches my chin in his hand, eyes glistening with a darkness I know should scare me but doesn’t.
“Speak,” he urges. “Say it out loud.”
I can feel my cheeks reddening. It feels dangerous, admitting to the depths of my need right now, my heart pounding in my chest so hard it rattles my ribs with every motion.
I’m not sure if it is the champagne or something about the way he is looking at me right now, but, finally, I find the words.
“I want... I want you.”
His hand slips from my face, moving down to my waist, gripping tight enough that I can feel him through my dress. I bite down hard on my lip to keep the reaction from showing too obviously on my face, but I think we’re long past the point of no return.
“Come to my suite,” he growls. “Now. Room 108.” He slips his hand into his pocket, takes a key out, and then presses it into my hand. “Go upstairs, get undressed. Only your heels and your mask stay on,” he orders me. “I’ll be there in five minutes. You understand?”
My eyes nearly bug out of my head in surprise.This man is asking me to strip for him already?I could say no, of course. Icould tell him that he has some damn nerve speaking to me like that, and he doesn’t get to just make orders the way he has. But…
And who am I to resist? And after all, thisiswhat I wanted.
I rise to my feet, gripping the key tight, and then turn towards the door. Hardly anyone seems to notice that I’m leaving, but, as my heels click across the polished dark wood of the floor, I know that I’m leaving this place a different person than I’ll return in uniform tomorrow.
2
CARA
I stand therein his room, staring at the door, arms wrapped around myself as I perch on the edge of his bed. I can feel the blood rushing in my veins, goosebumps trailing across my bare back as I wait for him to arrive.
Is all of this some kind of joke at my expense?
After the way my life has been going lately, it’s hard not to imagine it might be, all things considered. I know I should keep myself under control, but a part of me wants to throw my dress back on and run for the door before he arrives, certain I’m going to make the worst kind of fool of myself if he steps inside. Or maybe everyone from the gala is going to be standing there, laughing at me for believing for a second that I had a hope in hell with one of them...
But then, I remember the way his thumb skimmed my lips, and I do my best to soothe myself. He couldn’t have touched me like that and not meant it. And the way he spoke to me, that low, commanding tone to his voice, there’s not a chance I could have said no.
He’s clearly used to getting what he wants, and tonight, he has decided he wants me.
And damn, is there a thrill in that.
The thought has me clenching my thighs together, trying to contain the desire that threatens to overflow at any moment.God, am I really doing this?I squeeze my arms around myself a little tighter.
I’m pretty sure men like him are used to getting precisely what they want, and they are not willing to settle for anything.
And, just then, I hear the keycard against the door, and it swings open before me. I tense on the bed, rising to my feet. And, as he pushes the door shut slowly behind me, he surveys me, just like he did back on the gala floor.
“Fucking perfect,” he murmurs, taking a step towards me as he shrugs off his suit jacket. I’m still wearing my mask and heels, exactly as he commanded, and I both feel totally exposed and entirely disguised in the same moment.
I can make out beneath his mask, thick silver hair pushed back from his face—he must be older than me, by a whole hell of a lot, actually. But I find it hard to care. All that means is that he knows what he wants and isn’t afraid to ask for it, right...?
He closes the distance between us, his hands exploring my naked body like he’s been waiting for this since the second he laid eyes on me. His palms sweep down my waist, gripping at my hips, his fingers sliding around to grope at my ass.
