“Yeah, hey, enough about me. What was it that broughtyoujoy all those years ago?”
He laughs and leans back in the booth, relaxing his lean, muscular arms along the top of the seat. His biceps is so close to me, I want to press my face into it.
“My best friend and I used to read his dad’s vintage comics together, and we’d come up with all these stories. He was great at that. It was the best time of my life so far, I think. The years following were fun too, but we were working hard. Focused on different things.”
“What’s your favourite comic that you remember?”
“Hah, no one knows this, but I used to have a huge crush on Phantom Lady. Do you know her?”
I laugh. “Phantom Lady? Is she some kind of ghost?”
“No, she’s just a regular socialite fighting crime.” He chuckles and runs a hand over his chin. “She’s hot as hell, of course. In this little yellow playsuit and a green cape.”
“Camp.”
“Hah, I loved it. She has this wild dark hair.” He clears his throat. “Many a night was spent thinking of her.”
“I’m jealous now.”
I feel his eyes on me again as if they’re burning a hole in my skin. He’s going to get me out of this costume if he tries.
“A bartender’s meant to be coming down.” I look backtoward the entrance to stop myself from saying what I had been thinking. “The service is a tad slow.”
“Perhaps that’s why the others left.” He nods towards the room behind us that’s now empty.
I hadn’t noticed.
The heat of his hand meets my cheek, his thumb skirts over my lips, and I look up at him again.
“Tell me something else,” he asks. No, he demands it, although it’s barely a whisper.
“I …”
“Masks, remember?” he adds when I let the word hang in the air. “I don’t know who you are. You don’t know who I am. I just want another small piece of the puzzle.”
He’s a persuasive man, isn’t he?
“Hmm… Well, I love dressing up, and do it regularly, but my family and my old friends don’t know about it.”
“What kind of dress-up? Cosplay?”
“Sort of. Like tonight,” I say, referring to my clothes and leaving the rest of the truth out. “Tell me something about you,” I say, trying to use the same demanding tone he has. He brushes his thumb over my bottom lip again.
I wait for him either to kiss me or to talk. My skin tingles under his touch.
“I don’t like people. Big groups like this. I’d just arrived when I met you and was only going to stay for one drink.”
“I’m glad you stayed. There are worse things you can be than an introvert.”
He laughs, and his hand drops, finding mine again.
“I’ve not been this close to a man in a long time,” I say, brushing my fingers over the large, warm hand. “That was a freebie puzzle piece, by the way. And you don’t have to pretend you’re?—”
“Believe me or not, but it’s been a while for me and thatsmile and those eyes of yours are so utterly beautiful, I can’t seem to catch my breath.”
My eyes meet his again, and the adrenaline rushes through me as my body braces for what it’s about to do. Before my brain has caught up with the rest of me, I crash onto his lips again. He stiffens as my hands find the sides of his face, but relaxes into it, wrapping his arms around me once more.
One hand slides down and finds my knee, but pauses for a beat, as if he’s asking for permission to continue. The firm and warm touch sends shivers through me. I shift closer to him, moving my leg up onto his knee, and his hand slides along my thigh. The heat in me intensifies, and it’s so strong, I’ve lost all control to lust.
