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At first, Skylar had been revolted. Then Rex said something that changed her mind. He’d promised Skylar and the consultant that if Skylar agreed to go and it didn’t work, he’d stop trying to chase her elusive orgasm once and for all.
Of course, Skylar agreed. What else was she to say?
The memory of that day fell away, and she brought her attention back to the present. Once she’d worked past her shock and she’d agreed to the idea, she’d genuinely thought she’d be able to sleep with a man here tonight. The thought of sex itself was neither terrifying nor off-putting. She liked sex, liked the pleasure of getting fucked, even if she didn’t come. Rex had explained those in the gold masks were sexy, hot, sensual, and above all, professional. She’d be safe to explore, to find herself through one of the gold-masked people. Or two. Or three. Apparently, there was no limit to how many gold maskers one took upstairs.
She took a sip of her martini, letting her gaze fall on a small group she suddenly noticed. They were in an alcove, but one in which the drapes weren’t pulled shut, so they were on full display. Two men were seated on either side of a couch, each tending to a different side of a woman’s long, pale neck.
“They won’t give you the focused attention you need, Princess.”
Skylar didn’t need to turn around to see who’d spoken. Jay’s voice was like a finger ghosting down her neck. She shivered and bit back a moan. Taking a sip of her martini, she did her best to ignore the man, but she could smell his cologne over the stale sweetness of the ballroom. It surrounded her, doing delicious things to her core.
It was the smell of a fox among sleeping sheep.
She was no sheep.
A hand gripped the next gauzy curtain, and she could see a woman breathing heavily as another woman ran her fingers up her thigh, exposed by a slit in her dress up to her hip.
“You don’t need the soft touch of a woman,” Jay murmured behind her, bending so his head was over her shoulder, and they both were looking at the three women. “You need something firmer. Harder.”
“I highly doubt you have any clue about what I need,” she said without looking at him. Why was he still here? Why hadn’t he been pushed away by her caustic words and tone?
“I think I do,” he said mildly.
“I’m going back to my fiancé.”
“I don’t think you are.”
5
Skylar pushed off from the wooden column and started down one of the maze aisles, keenly aware that Jay was trailing behind her. She continued, hopelessly lost in the maze, walking past couples tangled around each other on couches, past a man dragging a smiling woman away by her wrist, past a group of people on a rug who hadn’t made it to the upper part of the mansion where she and Rex were told there were private rooms . . . or not so private, depending on what one desired.
Jay continued to follow, halting when she stopped at an opened window. “I think you need someone to take command,” he all but crooned.
As if out of her own control, Skylar found her body leaning back, craving his touch. He obliged her, sliding his hand up her bare back, then rubbing a knuckle against the side of her neck. She gulped in the cool night air and told herself it was the chill of the night breeze from the open window and not his voice and touch that elicited goosebumps up and down her spine. So why didn’t she pull away?
“I think you need someone who will take control,” Jay continued, pressing his front to her back, all but cupping her ass with his crotch.
For a moment, she indulged in the fantasy. Closed her eyes and imbued herself with the stranger’s closeness, his oh-so-male scent, his sensual voice, his warmth. Unable to stop herself, she fully leaned against him, soaking up that erotic sensation for just a moment, the briefest slip in time, until common sense took back over and forced her to take a step forward.
Jay was trying to get a rise out of her. And he was succeeding. Still, even though she felt her black lace thong getting wet, she once again reminded herself that choosing this man for tonight’s activities would be the wrong decision.
That scent, that voice . . . Jay would haunt her dreams. Her fantasies. Each time she slept with Rex, it would be Jay in her mind.
She’d promised Rex she’d try tonight. But the reason for trying was toenhancetheir relationship, notdestroyit. A wise woman would walk away.
That was exactly what she would do.
In a moment.
She casually finished her martini as if she were at any bar in the city and placed it on the tray of a passing server. A moan echoed from somewhere in the ballroom, hidden by the shifting curtains.
“I think you need someone who will make you scream.”
His voice. His damn voice. It followed her. Caressed her. Touched her with its unique combination of firmness, gentleness, and cockiness.
A woman came out from behind the drapes of one of the alcoves, then stepped wrong and lost her balance, arms windmilling, a look of fright on her face. Suddenly Jay was there, catching the woman before she fell to the floor. He steadied her, making sure she was safe on her feet and back in the arms of her gold-masked partner before he turned back to Skylar with a cocky grin.
Gallant and likely a good fuck. Otherwise, why else would he be here if he wasn’t skilled?
