When I stepped inside, the silence swallowed me whole. The security desk was unattended, and the lights were dimmed lower than usual, casting long shadows between the shelves.
I headed up the stairs, and by the time I reached the fourth floor, anticipation was curling tight and warm in my stomach. This was my floor; the quietest one.
It was completely deserted. Every table was clear. Every chair pushed in neatly. Even the study lamps were dark, as if someone had deliberately shut the space down just for me.
I walked toward the far end, toward the small desk tucked in the corner. My spot. The chair was pulled out, and a single piece of paper sat on the desk.
I stopped in front of it, breath shallow, then picked the note up.
Too late, baby. Now it’s my turn…
The overhead lights suddenly went out, plunging the fourth floor into darkness so complete it stole the air from my lungs.
I froze and dropped my purse, heart slamming against my ribs as every sense sharpened at once. Then, at the far end of the floor, I saw something red flickering to life.
Neon lines cut through the black. Stitched lips curved into a glowing, wicked grin, and crosses burned where eyes should have been, stark and unmistakable.
It was a mask.
The tall figure beneath it stepped forward slowly, deliberately, letting me see him. Letting me feel it. The height.The confidence. The way he owned the darkness like it belonged to him.
A thrill shot straight through me, and my breath hitched as the masked man tilted his head, just slightly, like he was studying me. Then he started running.
A sharp breath escaped me as I spun around, my instincts screaming at me to move, and I bolted down the closest aisle between the shelves. My footsteps thundered in the silence, echoing too loud, too fast.
A few seconds later, I risked a glance over my shoulder and saw the red glow gaining on me, smooth and relentless. A breathless laugh escaped me as I ran faster, fear melting into something hot and wild.
I darted around the corner of a shelf, pulse roaring in my ears, and I almost made it back to the stairwell.
Almost.
A hand caught my wrist and yanked me back hard, my back slamming against a bookshelf. Books rattled above my head as Julian caged me in, one arm braced beside my face. The mask was inches from me, glowing red in the dark.
“Got you,” he said, voice low and unmistakably pleased beneath the distortion of the mask.
My chest heaved as I smiled up at him, hands curling into his jacket. He leaned in, the stitched neon grin hovering just at my mouth.
“Did you really think I'd let you catch me?” he murmured, one hand sliding to my hip, pinning me more firmly against the shelf. “After everything I went through to set this up?”
“You're such an ass sometimes,” I said breathlessly, still smiling.
“Your ass, though.” His thumb traced along my jawline. “As of tomorrow. Officially.”
"How romant—"
He kissed me through the mask, the hard material pressing against my lips, frustrating and thrilling at once. I made a sound of protest, tugging at his jacket, and felt his chest rumble with dark laughter.
“Want me to take it off?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Ask nicely.”
“Julian…”
His other hand slid up my side, fingers grazing just beneath my breast. “That's not asking nicely, baby.”
Heat flooded through me, pooling low in my belly. He was playing with me. Drawing this out. Making me beg.
