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But her fingers tighten on my hips and she holds me in place, my pleasure in her hands and mouth, my release in her throat.
I squeeze my eyes shut, the world spiraling away as ecstasy throttles me in its wicked grip.
My legs shake. My hands rope through her hair.
I pant hard for several buzzy seconds, then open my eyes as she’s adjusting her hair and her gold mask. I must have knocked it off when I grabbed her face. But she’s got it back on now, covering her up, and I offer her a hand. She rises, then licks her lips, and smooths the material of her dress as it falls back down around to her ankles. I catch a glimpse of a silver anklet.
It’s almost familiar, like I’ve seen something like it somewhere.
Then, the fabric hides it and she comes in for a quick kiss, that heady scent of her perfume infiltrating my senses once again, and it’s chased by the smell of lilacs. Flowers and sex, and she’s scrambling my head again. “Bye.”
Wait. She’s leaving? Holy shit. Her break is already up. There’s so much I need to say to her.
In seconds, she’s racing to the door.
My mind’s a fog of lust, but I manage to call out a question. “What’s your perfume?”
It feels important. I don’t even know why, but it does.
“Summer Day,” she says, then slips out the door and snicks it shut behind her.
I don’t leave right away. I just stand here against the shelves, heart thumping, pulse racing.
Mind…floating.
That was completely unexpected, and the hottest night I’ve had in ages. I stare at the books across the room, the only witnesses to our stolen moment. They wink back at me. Cheeky fucking stories.
Yeah, I know, books. It’s been a while.
I run a hand across my scruff, trying to reactivate my brain. Figure out what’s next.
Need to get her name. Her number. Another night. One time with her is not enough. I want to undress her, spread her out on my bed, and devour her sweetness all night long.
When I look down to the floor, her gold clutch purse flickers on the wood next to my jacket.
My naughty Cinderella.
With the treasure in hand, I zip my pants, grab my jacket and head down the hall to the bathroom to straighten up. When I’ve pulled myself together, I return to the ballroom and the sound of “Que Sera, Sera.”
Whatever will be, will be.
Nope. Not leaving another encounter with her to fate. She’s the first woman I’ve kissed since my divorce. The first woman who’s ignited my senses in some time. I weave through the crowd, heading straight to the piano, but Tevin stops me with a firm hand on my arm.
Shit. Did he see us? Not that we did anything wrong, but as someone hired by the club, she was worried. I don’t want my piano player to get in trouble, especially since I promised her she wouldn’t.
“Are you having a good night?” Tevin asks.
“The best,” I say, without cracking a smile that’d give too much away.
“Will we see you again?”
“When’s the next one?”
He tells me, and I make a split-second decision. “Yeah. I’ll be there,” I say.
I take risks for a living. I run a venture fund with my brother, and my entire career has been built on the foundation of gambling big in business. No reason to play it safe in my personal life now that I finally, maybe, have one again.
He peels away, and I resume my path to the piano, setting her clutch on top of the baby grand. “You left your glass slipper,” I say as I drink in the sight of her one more time.
