CHAPTER TWO #2
The air inside explodes with sound and color.
Ghostly strobe lights pulse, casting shifting shadows across the towering walls.
Overhead, a grand chandelier glows with a kaleidoscope of colors.
Men in tailored costumes – Armani, Dior, Gucci, maybe even Versace.
The smooth bastards sip whiskey with practiced ease, their eyes tracking every woman who passes like predators waiting to pounce.
The women drip in diamonds and lace, their corsets cinched tight, waists sculpted to perfection. Expensive perfumes hang heavy in the air, sweet, luring, and seductive, each scent oozing pheromones that pull in anyone close enough to breathe them in.
Aster locks onto a Jack Sparrow look-alike across the room. “Damn. That man is delicious.”
I roll my eyes.“We need drinks before you start dry-humping Johnny Depp.”
She smirks, dragging me toward the U-shaped bar. The setup is pure luxury. Antique gold barstools line a sleek white marble countertop, gleaming under chandeliers that flicker like candlelight. Above, cobwebs and glittering spiders drape from the crystal fixtures .
It’s giving Dracula with a trust fund. Whoever owns this place definitely bought it with Mommy and Daddy’s money.
Aster grins at the bartender.“Two of your finest shots.”
The woman wears a fitted black turtleneck and a sleek, matching skirt; her sheer tights catch the light as she moves.
The same mask the other men wore covers her face, except hers glows neon pink.
Without a word, she pours two shots into crystal glasses.
I grab mine andthrow it back. The burnhits instantly.
Aster’s eyes widen.“Damn, girl. That was hot.”
I grin and down the next two without hesitation. A wave of exhilaration surges through me, my social anxiety numbed by vodka. Thealcohol floods my veins, and suddenly,I don’t care anymore. I grab Aster’s hand.“Come on! Let’s dance!”
We push through the crowd,bodies pressing close, sweat slicking skin.
Thebass pulses through my veins, the room spinning in ahaze of neon lights, fog, and heat.
I run my hands up my body, fingertips grazing the curve of my waist before gliding to my throat.
My movements are slow. Teasing. Lost in the rhythm.
A light sheen of sweat clings to my skin.
It should feel dirty… but in this environment?
It feels downright sexy. I’m not just dancing…
I’m coming undone, and for once, I don’t want to stop it.
And then a firm presence presses against my back. Hard. Unyielding. Dominant. An unfamiliarthrillcreeps up my spine. Thespace between us is nonexistent.His bodyfits perfectly against mine, and the thin fabric of my costume does little to conceal the fact that…
Oh.
My breath catches. Hisarousal is pressed against me, heavy and unmistakable.
Adark sparkignites low in my stomach, the kind of ecstasy that’s bothdangerous and alluring. I glance over my shoulder, and…
Dark blue eyes. Sharp jaw. A wicked smirk. Oh God, calm down. It’s just a man. A hot, hard, Batman-shaped man. …Yeah, I’m screwed.
Mypulse stutters. He’s watching me like he’s already marked his territory upon me. A lazy smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth, confidence radiating from him. Iswallow hard, heat crawling up my neck.
“Uh… hi, and you are?”I manage, my voiceis weaker than I want it to be.
Thesmirk deepens.“Isn’t it obvious?” His voice drops into alow, gravelly whisper, one that sends heat straight to my core.
“I am Batman.”
My lip’s part, an involuntary laugh slipping out. “Is that supposed to be an impression of Bruce Wayne?”
I don’t know if it’s the liquor buzzing through my system or his sheer presence that has me lightheaded, but something about himdisarms me. I really haven’t had much experience with relationships… or men in general.
He lifts a hand, trailing a single fingertip along my bare arm, sending goosebumps across my skin.
Oh God, it feels good to be touched.
“It was supposed to be… Did you like it?” His smile melting away my nerves.
I nod, completely breathless, like I just ran a mile. I should step away. But I don’t. His touch iselectric, leaving a scorching path.
“Want to dance, sexy Rapunzel?”
I nod again before I can stop myself. His strong hands find my hips, molding to them like they belong there. I press closer, my chest brushing against his firm, solid frame. He’s at least six feet tall, and with my height at 5’7 in these heels, he’s getting a perfect view of my cleavage.
Or, at least, I hope he is.
His dark blue ocean eyes flicker down.
Mission accomplished.
A side smirk tugs at his lips, his fingers tightening just slightly against my costume fabric. People swirl around us, bodies moving in time with the music. Couples grind against each other, lost in their own worlds.
His hands guide my movements, leading me through the seductive rhythm, his grip firm, possessive, and dominant.
And I feel it again. The press of him. Thick.
Hard. Unapologetic. He knows I feel it… knows that I know, but he doesn’t pull away, doesn’t shift.
We stay locked in place, eyes locked, breath tangled, m yclit throbbing for attention.
What the hell is happening… to me?
I squeeze my thighs together, trying to smother the ache . “So, Batman…”My voice comes out winded, laced with something dangerously close to need. “Who are you under the mask?”
His smirk deepens, but he doesn’t answer.
I narrow my eyes.“So, do I know you? Are you famous? I mean, this is a celebrity party.”
His gaze locks onto mine, amusement flickering behind those welcoming eyes. Then, he does something that nearly short-circuits my brain.
He leans in. Closer.
And closer.
So close… his breath ghosts along my jawline, down my neck.
My stomach tightens. My pulsequickens. Yep, it’s the alcohol or the fact that I haven’t had sex once and need it… like BAD.
He doesn’t touch me, but honestly, he doesn’t have to. The alcohol has me needy and ready for this man. “If I tell you…” His lips brush just close enough to tease the shell of my ear. “Will you go on a date with me?”
The world tilts. For a second,I forget how to respond, to form sentences. Everything inside me screamsyes. But before I can answer…
My body goes cold. Numb. The lump in my throat is so big I can’t swallow. A sharp vibration buzzes against my wrist, coming from my smart watch. My heart rate. I glance down at my watch.
125 BPM.
138 BPM.
152 BPM.
No, please not right now. I’m finally having fun…
But fate doesn’t care. And sadly, I can’t control the panic attack any more than I can control the weather.
My chesttightens. I can’t speak. My head becomes foggy like I’m about to pass out. My hands shake. The excitement was too much. Too fast.
Who would ever want to be with someone like me, who has this crippling anxiety? I’m broken… a mess. No wonder I’m alone. I need to get out of here. I need to escape… Now.
I jerk away from him. “Uh… excuse me, I need the ladies’ room,”I blurt, slipping from his grasp before I can talk myself out of it. I push through the crowd, my visionswimming, my breathshallow.
Aster is too busyswapping spitwith Jack Sparrow to notice my disappearance. I don’t stop moving until I reach agrand staircasein the center of the entrance.
I don’t know if I’m allowed up here. But honestly, I don’t care. I need air. I need a moment to breathe.
I take the stairs two at a time, like I can outrun it. But anxiety always finds me . Hallway after hallway of locked doors with fingerprint access. I keep going.
At this point, I will take an attic entrance… Anything.
At the end of the corridor, asingle doorstands ajar. I grip the handle, my breath still uneven, and push it open. Relief washes over me.
Finally.
I step inside and close the door behind me, my heart still hammering in my chest. I press my palm over it.
Slowly, the rhythm of my heart starts to calm, and I take a deep breath, trying to compose myself. Then, I lift my head to take in the room.
My insides twist. My lip’s part, but not a sound comes out. The sight before me is something that will be etched in my mind forever.
What. The. Actual. Fuck.