And then, in one fluid motion, he steps toward me, weaving through the crowd as if everyone else is frozen. His presence commands the room, and when he stops just a foot away, I see a glimmer of something behind the mask—danger, amusement, and something… magnetic.
“Do I know you?” My voice is louder than I meant, cutting through the music, my skull-painted grin daring him.
He tilts his head, a slow, teasing gesture, the mask hiding the rest. No answer, just a glance that tells me he’s already decided something… and I have no idea what.
And in that moment, Halloween becomes more than a night of costumes. It becomes a night of sparks, danger, and a temptation I can’t name… yet.
The crowd swirls around us, bodies moving in rhythm to the pounding beat, but it feels like we’re in our own bubble. His presence presses close, a warmth I didn’t expect, and I suddenly notice the way the mask doesn’t hide the sharp intelligence in his eyes.
“Can I buy you a drink?” he asks finally, his voice low, just above the music.
I raise an eyebrow and hold up my glass. “I’ve got one.”
He nods. “How about we get out of here?”
“Do I look like the type to fall for masked strangers?”
A slow smile spreads beneath the mask. “Maybe not… but maybe the type to break the rules.”
I laugh a little breathlessly and step closer. My heels click against the floor as I follow him into the moving crowd, lettingthe rhythm guide us. He’s close enough that I can feel the heat radiating off him, a dangerous, sexy energy that makes the back of my neck tingle.
“What’s your name?” I ask, keeping my tone casual, though my heart is doing that stupid fluttering thing that never stops when danger—and attraction—collide.
He shakes his head, the movement deliberate, teasing. “Names are overrated. Tonight… I just need to know you’re paying attention.”
I smirk, daring him further. “I am. You’re… interesting, I’ll give you that. But I’m not leaving here with you. You could be dangerous.”
“Dangerous is exactly why I approached you,” he says, and I catch the faintest edge of amusement in his voice. “And I can tell… you don’t scare easily.”
Tilting my head, I pretend not to notice the way my pulse jumps. “I’ve had practice.”
He leans just a fraction closer, enough that I feel the brush of his sleeve against mine. “Good. Then maybe you’ll enjoy the night ahead.”
I shiver, and it’s impossible to tell whether it’s the air, the music, or the way he watches me like he’s sizing me up. The thrill of unknown danger, of someone who could be anywhere from charming to deadly, sends a shiver down my spine.
And just like that, the night shifts. The masks, the costumes, the glittering chaos—they’re background now. He’s the only thing that matters, a spark I can’t quite touch… and somehow, I know I shouldn’t.
Yet I can’t look away.
He takes my hand before I can protest, and I feel the weight of his gaze like a physical touch. The music pulses through the floor, reverberating in my chest, and suddenly we’re movingtogether, slipping into the rhythm as if the world outside this club doesn’t exist.
His hands are careful at first—one on my waist, the other brushing against my back—but there’s an unmistakable edge of exploration, like he’s testing boundaries, learning what’s new to him. I can’t help the sharp intake of breath that escapes me when his fingers graze my hip, light but deliberate, sending a heat curling through me I’ve never known.
Without meaning to, I stiffen slightly, unsure of how to respond. I’ve been sheltered my whole life, wrapped in silk and shields, my body mostly mine but my heart… often watched, often controlled. Now, pressed against him, I feel something else entirely—curiosity, longing, and yes, a hint of fear that excites me in ways I shouldn’t admit.
“You’re tense,” he murmurs against my ear, his voice low and teasing. “Relax. Feel it. Let it guide you.”
Swallowing hard, I nod, forcing a small laugh, though my pulse is thrumming in my throat. “I—I don’t… I’m not used to this.”
A chuckle rumbles from him, deep and amused, and I feel the vibration along my shoulder. “Not used to being wanted?”
The bluntness of the question makes my stomach flip, and I shake my head, cheeks warming beneath the paint. “I’ve… never danced this close.”
“Hmm,” he hums, his hand sliding slightly higher on my back, pressing closer, testing me without rushing. “Then tonight … you’re allowed to explore. No rules. Just you … and me.”
It’s ridiculous. Dangerous and thrilling. My hand drifts to his chest almost without thinking, feeling the solid heat of him beneath the fabric, the pulse of hard muscle. I’m learning, inch by inch, the rhythm of closeness, the way a body reacts when it hasn’t been touched like this before.
His other hand finds mine, lacing our fingers together, firm and possessive, guiding my movements. Every brush of his palm, every shift of his body against mine, feels like it’s writing a secret language I didn’t know I wanted to learn.
