CHAPTER THIRTEEN #2
It was hot. Tempting. A total power move that put the entire night in her hands.
She leans back, licking the corner of her mouth like she owns the room.
“Well, since you’re all just going to keep staring at us with your mouths open…
” She st arts, flicking her gaze between the stunned men, “I guess we’ll just have to find a better table to sit at. ”
She turns to walk away, but before she can take a single step, the bearded man grabs her waist and pulls her straight into his lap, his mouth finding her neck.
“Hmmm, that’s what I thought,” she purrs, smirking as his lips trail up her skin.
Then she turns to the other three, all still looking at me like they’ve never laid eyes on anything they weren’t allowed to touch.
“Boys, this is my bestie, Lila,” she says, twirling a curl around her finger.
“If one of you doesn’t fuck her or at least make her see stars tonight, I swear I’ll cut your dicks off and toss them in the ocean.
And well… I’ll let the fish feast. Got it?
” She shoots me a smug little smile like she just did me a favor, while I give her the most annoyed glare I can manage.
Oh. God. Way to be subtle.
I clear my throat, my voice barely above a whisper, unsure how to speak after… that. “Umm, is this seat taken?” I ask the tall, black-haired Korean hottie.
His chocolate-brown eyes lift to meet mine. They’re warm and sweet, but something in them feels familiar. Like me. Like, there’s another side of him he doesn’t show easily. And when he does, he becomes animalistic. “By you, if you choose.”
Oh my God. He has a British accent. Of course he does. Because obviously, I needed one more reason to spiral.
I can’t help but stare at his side profile.
He looks like he walked straight out of a K-drama.
Sharp jawline, flawless skin, and that effortlessly cool male lead energy.
And not just any K-drama guy. This man could absolutely play the emotionally unavailable heir to a billion-dollar empire who completely unravels the moment he meets her.
The girl who crashes into him with her coffee, stains his expensive button- down, and then shyly offers to get it dry cleaned, unaware she just turned his entire world upside down.
And me? I’m a hopeless romantic. I could binge those shows for a week straight, no sleep, no shame, completely swept away by a man who doesn’t even exist. Except this isn’t some quaint café with stolen glances…
This is a sex club. And my best friend just threatened him. So yeah. Great start to a potential love story.
I watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows his whiskey, and I can’t help but gulp. If I get to choose who gets to pleasure me tonight, it’s him. He’s definitely my type. He could erase the Phantom. And Batman. And the Red Mask.
Damn. I really am screwed up.
“I’m… I’m sorry about Aster. Sometimes she’s a little much.”
He cracks a smile and runs a hand through his soft, tousled hair. “I’ve gotten used to her at this point.”
We glance across the booth, and yep, Aster and the bearded guy are basically dry humping and making out like they’re the only two people in the room.
“Is she always like this?” I say, floored by how effortlessly she fits into this world.
When I turn back, his eyes are still locked on mine. Unblinking. Steady.
Oh. Wow. He hasn’t looked away once.
“You have no idea,” he says, still not breaking eye contact.
Panic starts to rise in my chest, and my palms begin to sweat. How would he know what Aster’s like… unless they’ve already hooked up? I’m not okay with her sloppy seconds.
“Wait, have you two?” I ask, hoping he catches what I’m really trying to say .
He chuckles, a slow, deep, sultry sound that rumbles from his chest. “God, no. She’s not my type.”
Oh. Cool. Except now my brain spirals even more.
If Aster, the most beautiful, magnetic woman I know, isn’t his type, then there’s no way I am.
Stop thinking. Just feel. Just feel, Lila.
I toss back a shot. Then another. And one more for good measure. He watches, raising a brow, clearly impressed. “Let’s start over. Proper introduction this time.” I flip my hair with a wink. “Hey, I’m Lila. And you are?”
He grins, all white teeth and a wicked smile, and leans in. His voice brushes my ear, low enough to send a chill down my spine. “My name doesn’t matter. Because after tonight, the only thing you’ll remember is how I made you feel.”
Oh shit. I definitely picked the right one.
“Hm. Let’s see if you can live up to that,” I say, lifting a brow.
He rises, extends his hand, and smirks. “Come dance with me.” I grab another shot from the busty, shirtless waitress strutting by with goddess-level confidence.
The exquisite bourbon burns slow as it slides down my throat, grounding me in the moment, reminding me this isn’t a dream. His hand swallows mine. Big, warm, steady.
This is real.
I glance back at Aster, who’s finally taking a break from her full-blown makeout session to watch me get dragged away by this irresistible man.
She dances in place like a total fangirl, cheering me.
And then, because she can’t help herself, she adds her signature flair.
She sticks out her tongue and moves it up and down like she’s licking an ice cream cone. Of course she does .
I roll my eyes, laughing as I follow the stranger onto the dark, kaleidoscope-colored dance floor. But once we step in, I realize something I hadn’t noticed before. The floor is open, wide, like a stage.
And towering above us are balconies filled with people. The elite. Watching us move, watching me move.
I glance up, strangely enjoying the attention. I feel seen. In control. Desirable. Is that a new kink unlocked… or just the alcohol? Yeah. Probably just the alcohol.
He pulls me close, his hands gripping my waist as I let him take the lead. Our bodies move in sync, slow and intentional. I slide my hands up his chest, feeling the hard muscle beneath his soft cotton shirt. He smells like cinnamon and spice, and everything nice and expensive.
This is the man I want to deflower me tonight. I need this. I want him to know I’m his for tonight. He can play with me if I get to play with him too.
I slip my hands under his shirt and hesitate just for a moment. Then, without breaking eye contact, I press my palms to his skin just above his belt. He tenses under my touch, his eyes dropping to watch me, swallowing hard, and nibbling on his bottom lip.
Oh, he likes it.
So I keep going. My hands skate up his toned abs to his chest. His skin is on fire. My own is flushed and aching.
Hmmm. I never knew I loved being in charge.
My clit pulses with desperation, ready for some kind of friction. Movement. Anything. People grind around us, making this scene even more invigorating and sexy.
He leans in. His lips brush mine, just a faint touch, like he’s waiting for my permission. I lean into his ear. “So, you’re a tease?” I say with a smirk .
“Only if you want me to be…” That beautiful smile on full display.
But I can’t wait any longer. The Phantom woke something deep within me, and she’s ready to come out and play.
I kiss him. The first man I’ve kissed in years.
The kiss I’ve been dreaming of. He responds, and I can’t help but lose myself in it.
Our mouths swirl together, deeper, hotter, like we’ve been doing this forever.
But something’s missing. It’s good. So good.
But not soul-twisting. Not the way it should be.
Then a ripple in the air, a crackle of energy, like static before a lightning strike. The thing that was missing in the kiss? There it is. But it’s not coming from him, it’s coming from somewhere else.
The bass of the music dulls, muffled, like I’ve been dropped underwater. Bodies still move around me, hips grinding, mouths open in laughter and moans, but my world stops. My skin prickles. My breath halts. And then I hear it.
A hum. Low and velvet smooth. Enthralling. It threads through the crowd, yet it feels like I’m the only one who can hear it. The melody slides between bodies, curling down my spine, and wrapping around my throat like a noose made of silk. My eyes widen.
That sound. That damn sound. The same tune from the maze. The one that haunts my dreams. The one that pulled me into the darkness and has yet to let me go.
My breath stutters, heart skipping, lips still pressed to the stranger’s. A scream pulses in my throat, trapped, trying to claw its way out.
He’s here .
I feel him before I see him. Like the air itself bends to make room for him. Heavy. Overwhelming. Laced with fury, heat, and something far more lethal.
Possession.
My body knows before my mind does. I’m on fire for him, and I don’t mean the stranger my lips are pressed to. Every hair on my skin lifts. My nipples harden beneath the lace. My thighs press together as wetness coats my thong.
I look up to the second-floor balcony. And there he is. The Red Mask.
His sleek black-on-black suit is tailored to perfection, and his dominant silhouette radiates fury.
His shoulders are tense, chest rising and falling like he’s barely containing the storm inside him.
His eyes are hidden behind the glowing neon mask, but I swear I feel them on me.
Locked on me. A silent scream. A message only I understand.
And that message? He’s livid. His leather-gloved hands grip the metal railing with a force that feels personal. I’d bet anything his knuckles are bone white beneath the leather from how tightly he’s holding on.
He doesn’t move. He doesn’t have to. His presence alone demands obedience.
Well, good thing I’m not obedient.
And yet he’s across the room, elevated above the chaos, untouchable but consuming me whole. The sexual tension pulsing between us is thicker than the air itself. I’m kissing one man, but it’s him I’m aching for. The Red Mask. The one who doesn’t even have to touch me to set me on fire.
My body tightens. My heart beats for the man behind the mask.
He isn’t just observing, he is claiming me, furious that someone else dares to touch what he believes is his.
Then he tilts his head, a slow, deliberate gesture that feels like both a promise and a threat, as if he’s already preparing for the chase.
The worst part is how much I want him to see me with the stranger.
I want him wrecked, just like he left me.
Strung out from the way his fingers made me feel beneath the lilac-covered gazebo.
He pushed me to the edge and left me clawing for the release that he denied me.
He made me feel things I’ve spent years trying to avoid… and I don’t even know his name.
And now? I want him to burn for me like I burned for him in the maze.
The stranger’s lips brush mine again, but my tongue is already moving, tangling with his. I arch into him, pressing my body against his hard length, letting the Red Mask see every inch of me with him. But in my head… I’m not kissing this man. I’m kissing him.
I jump, wrapping my legs around the stranger’s waist. He grabs the backs of my thighs, and I let him feel all of me.
Let the Red Mask see. I want him to come down here. To lose control. To touch me. I take a moment to catch my breath, hoping to see a reaction, but…
He’s gone. The balcony is empty.
No shadow. No mask. No hum. Just… silence. Like he was never there. Or worse… like he was and didn’t like what he saw.
My heart stutters. My throat tightens. Was he ever really there? Or worse… is he still here, watching. Waiting. Coming for me. God, I hope he is.