“Your dress,” he says, stepping closer to me and wrapping his arms around me to reach to my lower back. His bare chest presses into me, making my breath catch. “You’re unzipped.” His face is inches from mine and having those piercing eyes just inches from mine is almost too much. I could kiss him if I just leaned forward…
But he zips me up and then steps back, turning away as if there was nothing to the gesture.
“Thank you,” I say quietly. I don’t want to walk out of the room. I know a man like this would never normally look twice at me. Every woman in the city probably throws herself at him. The need to extend the moment pushes me to say something. Anything. “It’s beautiful,” I say.
I see a hint of laughter in his eyes when he turns to look at me.
“The house!” I say quickly, shielding my eyes in embarrassment. “The house is beautiful, I mean. Not that you aren’t, of cour--” I clamp my mouth shut before I can do any more damage.
He finally slides a tight black shirt on that hugs his muscles. The shirt does less to dull the throb of need between my legs than I was hoping. The sleeves stretch tight over his biceps and…
He steps closer and looks at me appraisingly, placing a finger on his perfect chin. “Tell me your name,” he says. It’s not a question. He doesn’t strike me as the type to do a whole lot of questioning. Statements and demands are this man’s way, and I find myself liking the idea of that very much.
“Emmaline,” I breathe.
“Emmaline,” he says slowly. I’ve never heard my name sound so romantic or sweet from anyone else’s lips. “You need to get back to the party. Your colleagues are probably wondering where you went.”
He knows I don’t work for him. I stammer out something and rush from the room, finally feeling like I can breathe when I’m back in the hallway. Wow. When Scarlett said he was hot I didn’t think he was going to be that hot. I’ve never met a man quite like him. I hurry down the stairs, head still spinning as I descend back into the thrum of music and writhing bodies.
When I finally find Scarlett she’s breathless and has lost the coat she was wearing when we came in. Her skin glistens with sweat and she’s wearing a perpetual smile. The smile falters a little when she sees the look on my face. “You okay?” she asks as we slip outside into the cool night air beside the pool and find chairs.
“I met Mr. Steele,” I say.
“You met him?” she asks.
“I walked into his master bedroom as he was coming out of the shower in nothing but a towel.” The look on Scarlett’s face makes me laugh. “Nothing happened! I mean, he did zip up my dress…”
Scarlett’s jaw drops and she’s looking at me like she’s seeing me for the first time. “Shut up! He did not!”
I bite my lip, grinning. “He did.”
“Why the hell was your dress unzipped?”
I finish telling her what little else there was to the encounter as the night grows colder and the intensity of the party burns down to embers. We laugh and talk about nothing, and for at least a little while, my mind moves away from the debt and the problems in my immediate future. I’ll be talking to Scarlett’s contact at Club Crave tomorrow morning and possibly starting soon. But that’s a worry for tomorrow. Tonight, I’m perfectly fine with Mr. Steel dominating my thoughts. I just wish he was dominating more than that.7LoganMy driver parks behind Club Crave’s private entrance. I step out of the car, slipping on the simple leather mask that covers my eyes and the top of my nose. Even before I had a desire to protect my identity, I always chose to wear a mask here. The thrill of anonymity and the extra degree of control always gave another layer to my enjoyment. Control. It’s what drives me. It’s what I thrive on.
Dean is already waiting for me. Club Crave is a simple building from the outside. Unassuming. Red brick, blacked out windows, and nothing to mark it as a favorite spot of the filthy rich and filthy minded. Dean wears a mask similar to mine, but I would recognize what little I can see of his face anywhere. He smirks at me and claps me on the shoulder.
“Logan Steele is back on the prowl. Women beware,” says Dean. “How does it feel?” he asks. Something in his tone irks me. It’s a little patronizing, maybe, but I can’t be bothered right now. I have other things on my mind.
I straighten my jacket and tie, fixing him with a hard glare. I’m not in a mood to joke or banter. I’ve waited too long for this. My body hums with energy, cock already hard and pulsing. I have to grit my teeth to hold back the anticipation, the burning need to dominate. I push past Dean, leaving him at the entrance.