She should be offended, disgusted. They should not be having this conversation. Instead, her heart tried to pound out of her chest and her skin went tingly. “You don’t need my name.”
“Mmm.” He nodded. “True. But you want to tell me anyway. Just like you wanted to stay longer and watch it all.”
The words were so self-assured that she would’ve laughed if they hadn’t rung through her like the truest of truths. “I—”
“Cora! There you are!”
The familiar voice came from behind her, snapping Cora out of the spell she’d fallen under. Grace.
Mr. Exhibitionist gifted Cora with a smirk and leaned back out of her space.
Grace swooped around on her left, her eyes meeting Cora’s, question marks there. Cora knew this look. It was the do-yo
u-need-me-to-rescue-you-or-should-I-be-your-wing-woman? look.
Cora bolted up out of her chair. “Hey, oh my God, I’ve been looking everywhere for you! I needed to talk to you about. . . . that thing.” Her voice was so high and unlike her normal tone that she may as well have sucked helium.
Sucked. The word twined around her girl parts, set things aflame.
Fuck.
She grabbed Grace’s hand and sent an over-the-shoulder look to the man who’d knocked her completely on her ass, but he was already getting to his feet.
He tucked his hands in his pockets, and though there was an affable expression on his face, his gaze held something intent when it met hers. “Nice meeting you, Cora.”
For a second, she didn’t know how he knew her name, but then she remembered Grace had said it. And before she could respond, he turned on his heel and strolled back into the crowd.
Grace watched him go and then spun around, putting her back to him. She gave Cora this wide-eyed look of wonder. “Holy shit, who the hell was that? And why did you let me rescue you from him?” She peered over her shoulder for one last look. “Jesus. He’s like . . . whoa.”
Cora let out a long breath, one she may have been holding since Mystery Man had sat down. But she couldn’t stop watching him walk away. The man could wear a suit. “I don’t know his name. It’s . . . a long story.”
Grace shook her head. “Not long enough. Tell me you gave him your card.”
“I . . . forgot.”
“Cora! You need to go—”
She grabbed Grace’s arm before she could go after the guy. “No. Stop. I’m done.”
The hope on Grace’s face crashed into a petulant scowl. But it wasn’t going to work this time. There was no way Cora was willingly having another conversation with that man. She’d barely survived the first. Talk about bringing a knife to a gunfight.
Hell, she hadn’t even had a knife.
She’d brought a spork.
Online, she was daring. She was kinky. She was brave. But tonight had proven what she’d always known. She was no Lenore.
And never would be. She had no idea how to handle men like that or how to play in those shark-infested waters.
She pulled out her phone and messaged Dmitry.
Back to her reality. The virtual one.
The safe one.
THREE
Cora waved as Grace drove off and left her standing in her driveway. The neighborhood was quiet at this hour, and the porch light on Cora’s duplex had burned out again, so it was just her and the moonlight. The silence was like a balm to her nerves after the loud party and the pop music Grace had been blasting in the car during the hour-long ride from the winery back into Dallas. She wished she could sit out here and absorb it for a while, but that would be a little crazy at midnight.