Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 91216 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91216 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
I tug my emerald dress into place and check the red ribbon around my neck one last time in the mirror before stepping outside And freezing my ass off. I quickly decide to travel to the club by vehicle over boat.
By the time I reach Naughty and Nice, I’ve managed to calm my nerves, taking slow, deep breaths as I step out of the cab and join Sloane who’s waiting for me out front. Classic Sloane style, she’s decked out in fishnet stockings and a red leather corset, her fiery red hair cascading down her back.
“Holy shit, Chloe! Look at you!” She looks me up and down. “Damn, girl.”
I blush under her compliment and stand straighter with more confidence, revealing the emerald dress that clings to my figure. For the first time ever, I don’t feel as if Sloane has out dressed me. I don’t feel like the mousy hermit lurking in her shadow.
The pulsating beat of the music from inside the club seeps out onto the street, mingling with the lively chatter and laughter of the partygoers milling about. Sloane loops her arm through mine, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Are you ready for this?” she asks, her voice barely audible over the noise. “Let’s go inside and see what kind of trouble we can get into.”
I nod, my heart pounding in my chest. I am ready; or at least, I want to be. I want to let go of all my fears and doubts, to embrace this wild, uninhibited side of myself that has been hiding for so long. I can’t hide behind a phone forever.
As we make our way through the crowded club, Sloane confidently leads me to the bar, where she orders us each a drink. The air is thick with the scent of sweat, alcohol, and something else: desire. The room is dimly lit, with flashes of neon light illuminating the faces of everyone. At least the faces I can see. Many people are wearing masks, some holiday in theme, others made of leather or lace. Simply being around so many masks unlocks a deep-rooted fantasy inside of me. I love the fact that the room is a blend of secrets and open passion.
As I take a sip of my drink, the music and energy of the club sizzle into my core. Why have I hidden from this for so long? Inside of me there’s a sense of freedom that I’ve never experienced before. My dress hugs every curve to my body, making me feel sexy and powerful. I sway to the beat of the music, losing myself in the moment. This feels right. So right.
Sloane grins at me, her eyes filled with mischief. “Let’s go dance,” she shouts over the music, grabbing my hand and pulling me onto the dance floor.
We dance as the rhythm and the bass vibrates through my body, and I can’t resist scanning the crowd for my mystery man. Not that I know what he’d look like. But maybe he’s watching me. Maybe he’s one of the masked men in this room. Maybe he’s spotting my red ribbon right now and getting ready to approach.
Just as I let myself indulge in the tantalizing fantasy, a strong hand grips my waist from behind. I gasp, spinning around to find myself face to face with a man wearing a black velvet mask adorned with silver filigree. His dark eyes pierce through the slits of the mask, sending a thrill down my spine. The mask only covers the top of his face, leaving his lips revealed. He’s also wearing a black hood, long black sleeves, and seems to vanish behind the mask so I can’t make out any of his features.
“Dance with me,” he commands, his voice deep and husky. With the music as loud as it is, I can barely make out his voice.
I nod, unable to find my words as he pulls me close, our bodies moving in sync with the pulsating beat. His touch is electric, igniting a fire within me that I can’t quench.
Is it him? Or is this just another clubgoer?
As we dance, his hand traces the line of my ribcage, brushing against the red ribbon around my neck. My breath hitches as he tugs gently, pulling me even closer. The scent of sandalwood and musk intoxicates me, and there is something familiar about the smell. Something so strong it makes me want more.
My heart races as I look into his eyes, trying to discern who he is beneath the mask.
Do I really want to know?
No. Yes. Maybe. Although the idea of being with a complete stranger sends jolts of electricity straight between my legs.
He whispers something in my ear, but the words are lost in the thundering beat. All I can focus on is the heat of his breath against my skin and the way his hands never stop moving.