“Where’s the dreamboat?”
I shrugged. “I haven’t had a chance to go say hi yet.”
Kevin sighed. He knew me well.
“Want to dance?”
“Yeah.”
He kissed the top of my head and emptied his champagne glass.
“We’re going to mingle.” He tapped his breast pocket, indicating he had his cellphone. “Buzz if you need us.”
Sliding his arm from my shoulders, he joined our hands together and we joined the party.
“Where’s your date?” I asked, as he spun me around.
Kevin rarely came stag to an event, and he was also a magnificent dancer.
Rolling his eyes, I saw him scan the crowd over my head. “He’s dull, but probably around here somewhere, boring some pour soul to death.”
“What do you mean he’s dull?”
Kevin dipped me and whispered, “It’s like having sex with a mime.”
Throwing my head back, I laughed.
“Actually, a mime might even be better.” He frowned and lifted us upright again.
“So why did you ask him to be your date?” I questioned, now having composed myself enough to speak.
It felt nice to talk about something other than Henry for a few minutes.
“Char, darling.” He winked behind his mask. “Mime sex is still better than no sex.”
I laughed again, and Kevin smiled.
He was trying to make me feel better, and it was working.
“May I cut in?”
Looking over my shoulder, all I saw was a wall of black Prada and hard man-chest.
“Sure thing,” Kevin drawled.
I wasn’t even able to mock him, because I was still looking up, up, and up. The man looked like something straight out of a Sylvester Stallone movie.
I felt Kevin’s lips on my cheek. “Relax, Char.”
Then his hands were gone, rougher ones taking their place on my naked back.
Even in my heels, this man stood at least five inches taller than me. His chest was broad enough that I was almost certain his suit had to be a result of a custom fitting. Brown hair in messy waves fell to just above his shoulders, and through his mask, I could tell his eyes mirrored the colour of coal.
He was intimidating just with the sheer size of him, but he was surprisingly graceful as he moved me across the dance floor.
I should have balked at the hands of a strange man on me so publically, but I didn’t. I couldn’t. There wasn’t even the smallest part of me that grew concerned over his potential identity. This excitement seemed to call to the part of me that revelled in the exchange of new highs.
That part of me was hungry tonight amidst the angst, and I was a woman who fed the addiction in her.
My hands slid up his chest and found their way to the back of his neck. This brought our faces closer, and I admired his full lips, though he never spoke another word. He was a beast, and I felt delicate in his arms. His olive skin was darkened by a few days of stubble, and he pulled me closer as the song bled into another and then another.
He seemed to know how I wanted to be held, so I didn’t speak either. Resting my head against his shoulder, I closed my eyes.
I had found a moment of peace in the chaos with this masked man.
I wasn’t sure how long we danced like that—minutes, maybe hours. The songs continued to blur together until a growl erupted from his chest and abruptly we were moving.
His hand at my lower back was pushing me impatiently through the crowd. It seemed as though he knew where he was going, falling in tandem with the floor plan of the event and leading us into the back hallway where, at last, his pace began to slow.
His legs were longer than mine, so I shuffled in a hurry to keep up with him.
“Are you all right?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
He grabbed my hand and backed himself into the corner of the wall, plastering me up against his front.
Whatever fear I had that my having spoken would break our trance fell quickly by the wayside.
His hands fisted roughly into my hair, jerking my head backwards as his mouth came down on me fast, hard. It was domineering, just like he was, and my lips pushed back against his, finally our tongues duelling for control.
My hands grabbed at his jacket for some kind of grounding as the race in my chest began to soar.
He bit.
I moaned.
Our bodies pressed against each other so hard I wondered if we’d become one entity.
My hips bucked and I pulled at his hair.
It was less a kiss and more a battle of sorts.
It was only the crash of a vase hitting the floor that reluctantly separated our lips.
Breathing heavily, I forced my eyes open and found one of Tina’s arrangements strewn across the tile floor beside us.
Dead flowers weren’t pretty.
“Ooops.” A woman to our left stumbled and giggled.
The masked man pressed into my front and groaned in annoyance. I felt in agreement with this response, as I was not fond of this interruption either.
The woman noticed us, the state in which we remained, and grinned like a Cheshire cat in heat.
“I’ll have that taken care of,” I told her, nodding to the floor.
The masked man nipped behind my ear.