Chapter 6
Juliet
This isn’t real.
He’s not standing in front of me after blowing my mind with yet another all-consuming kiss that had my toes curling and me melting into his touch.
I must’ve hit my head.
Fifteen minutes ago, I was pacing the alleyway, trying to work up the courage to walk into Euphoria, hoping to find the mysterious stranger who turned my life upside down and inside out with a simple kiss. Never in my wildest dreams did I expect him to be here to steal my sanity once again.
Now he wants to take me somewhere private, and while everything inside me should be screaming that this is reckless and dangerous, those voices are strangely silent. I don’t feel threatened by him one bit.
This man intrigues me, and the fact we both showed up tonight when neither of us knew the other would be here… It feels like serendipity.
As much as I love my daughter, and I would never do anything to put her in harm’s way again, it’s been over eighteen months. I’m craving the affection of another person.
My conversation with Quinn from earlier replays in my head.
“I understand why you’re so hesitant about dating again, Jules, but men like Edward are the exception, not the rule.
You don’t have to rush into anything. Just test the waters.
I’m not expecting you to marry the first guy you sleep with, but thirty-four is too young to give up on happily ever after. ”
She somehow convinced me to come tonight to see if my masked kisser was here, and now I’m considering renting a room with a stranger at a sex club.
Tinsley’s safe at her brother’s house. Quinn knows where I am. The club has strict protocols around the safety of its patrons. Why can’t I indulge for one night?
Before I can talk myself out of it, I pick the card up off the bar and hold it out to him.
He takes it and thanks the bartender, who nods in acknowledgement before moving off to serve some other patrons.
“Do you know him?” I ask, curious about why we were given a room for free.
My masked stranger shakes his head. “Only met him tonight, but let’s just say he fancies himself our fairy godmother.”
I tilt my head, and my confusion must be painted on my face, because he chuckles, the sound doing something indescribable to my insides.
“When I came in here looking for you, I didn’t really believe I’d find you.
I must have looked pretty dejected, because Diego took pity on me and gave me a tour of the club.
He told me he remembered you and your friends because of the bride-to-be, and he said if I was meant to see you again, I would… and here you are.”
“Here we both are,” I say with a smile, then nod at the keycard in his hand. “So, are we doing this?”
He looks at the card, then back at me, holding out his hand. “When in Rome.”
I should be nervous, but the moment my hand slides into his, a sense of peace washes over me. It’s weird, I know. But I almost feel like all the bad things that have happened to me have led me to this moment, with this man, in this place.
“What am I supposed to call you?” I ask as he leads me through a white curtain, which takes us into a room I remember passing through last month—everything is white—but instead of moving towards the forest-green curtain that leads into the room where I danced with my friends, he leads me towards a bouncer standing guard beside a red curtain.
He hums in thought after the bouncer allows us to pass through. “You can call me striker.”
I snort. “I’m sure there’s a story there?”
“If I tell you, I’d have to kill you.” He winks to let me know he’s joking, and I don’t push it any further.
He scans the card at a hidden wall panel with a blinking keypad, and the panel opens to reveal a hallway lined with numbered doors.
Soft music plays from hidden speakers, giving off a calm ambiance, but it does little to ease the swarm of butterflies in my stomach.
“Are you still okay with this?” he murmurs as we move down the hallway. “Say the word, and we leave.”
“I’m good,” I assure him. The way he keeps seeking consent is endearing, and he’s done nothing to warrant me walking away.
My body buzzes with anticipation when he comes to a stop outside room seventeen. The keypad is waiting, but he doesn’t make a move. He’s waiting for my consent.
“I mean it, pixie. Nothing will happen tonight unless you want it to.” His steel eyes portray nothing but sincerity.
A smile pulls at my lips. “So, what I’m hearing is that I’m in charge?”
He grins, passing me the room card before tilting my chin so he can brush a soft kiss over my lips. “You’re in charge.”
Ugh. That simple touch has me melting into him, and all rational thoughts escape me. “I’m in, striker.”
I swipe the card over the keypad and push the door open. He follows me inside, and we both take in the space as it clicks shut behind us.
A king size bed dominates the small and simple room from the middle, with a waterfall shower and a cupboard taking up one side wall, and more cupboards lining the other.
There’s a small bar fridge and a plush leather couch that looks inviting.
The sheets on the bed have a simple navy geometric pattern.
Striker’s confidence seems to have waned since entering; his eyes dart around the room, flicking between the bed and the couch.
Mine isn’t much better, and my pulse pounds in my ears.
I’m well out of practice with flirting, and being in this room has sent my brain into overdrive.
But I promised Quinn I would step out of my comfort zone and dip my toe back into the dating pool.
Not that this is a date.
Oh, jeez, I really need to get out of my head and stop overthinking this.
Stepping in front of him, I run my hands over his muscular chest to hook them around his neck, tilting my head to look up at him. “Kiss me, striker.”
He doesn’t hesitate, tangling his hands in my hair as his lips crush against mine, teasing yet needy at the same time.
His tongue swipes over the seam of my mouth, and I open for him, deepening the kiss.
One of his strong hands runs a delicious trail over my spine, causing me to shiver, then it bands around my waist, pulling me close.
My body melts into his, heating as the telltale sign of an impressive bulge presses into my stomach.
“You’re incredible, pixie,” he murmurs, kissing a trail along my jaw.
“Mm,” I hum, dropping my head back, giving him access to run his tongue over the column of my throat.
A blazing heat crawls along my skin where his lips linger, causing goosebumps to trail in their wake. My head swims as I breathe in his masculine scent, but it feels amazing. His kisses are intoxicating, drugging, and overwhelming in the best possible way.
“There’s a perfectly good bed right there,” I tease in a breathless whisper.
He groans, pressing his lips between the valley of my breasts.
“I’m trying really hard to behave myself.”
I laugh, gripping his chin and lifting his face until his molten gaze meets mine. “Eyes up here, striker.”
After pressing a chaste kiss to his lips, I pull him to sit on the couch next to me. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do,” I repeat his words back to him, and he grins.
“Is that so, pixie?”
“Mmhmm.”
He chuckles, the warm and rich sound sending shivers through me. Resting his arm along the back of the couch, his fingers playing with a strand of my hair. “Why do I feel like you’re going to be a bad influence?”
I shrug, wondering where this newfound confidence has come from. “Don’t get shy on me now, striker.”
“I’m not,” he says, shooting me a sexy smirk. “But maybe we should talk about what tonight is, so we’re both on the same page before we take things any further.”
My stomach swirls as I meet his masked gaze. “You said it’s a one-night thing, and I’m okay with that.”
I’m not ready to give anyone anything more.
The look he gives me is one of regret. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you, but my life is complicated, and—”
I press my finger to his lips, silencing him.
“Are you single?”
He frowns behind his mask. “Yes, but—”
“But we’re two consenting adults, agreeing to one night of fun.” I bite my lip and crook a finger at him.
He leans in to kiss me, but I hold up a hand and shake my head, causing him to pause.
“Too many clothes,” I say, and he tilts his head. “Lose the shirt.”
He fights his smirk as he reaches behind his neck with one hand and pulls it over his head.
My mouth goes dry as I take in his inked body.
His muscles have muscles, and my eyes travel over the tree of life tattoo on his left pec, barely taking in the flock of birds over his right hip as they drift down his chiselled abs to the delicious V disappearing beneath his jeans.
He has ink along his right arm as well, but I’m too mesmerised by the way his muscles ripple as he moves to even notice the details.
My lady parts tingle. How the heck am I supposed to keep my hands to myself? This man is built like a freaking god.
Hooking his arm around my legs, he shifts so he can lay me out on the couch before moving so he’s hovering over me. My pulse skyrockets as I gaze into his grey eyes behind his mask.
“You like what you see?” His voice is gravelly, and words escape me.
He dips down and kisses me, and once again, I’m struck by how right it feels to have his mouth pressed against mine.
We move in perfect synchrony, exploring one another like horny teenagers making out in their parents’ living room, and even though it’s only the second time we’ve met, it feels like we’ve been doing this for years.
He holds his body weight off me with his forearms bracketing mine in a delicious yet infuriating tease.
My hands move of their own accord, sliding over his warm skin, and his breathing hitches from my touch. He rests his forehead against mine before dropping to his left side and propping his head up with his hand, smiling that heart-stopping smile that has my insides turning to goo.