Page 19 of Masked Seduction

I tilt my head, allowing her to feel the heat of my attention like a hand sliding over her skin. “I want to know what makes you sigh,” I say finally. “What makes you curse. What makes you lose that tight grip on your composure.”

Her lips part slightly. A flush creeps up her throat, delicate and pink. “I don’t even know your name,” she says. It’s not a protest, it’s armor, thin and trembling.

I smile. Slow. Dangerous. “You don’t need it. Not tonight.”

She raises a brow. “Oh, so now you think you can tell me what I need?”

I lean in. “More than that. I want toshowyou what you need.”

She exhales shakily, a sound that betrays just how off-kilter she feels. But she doesn’t move away. She doesn’t shut me down. Instead, she lifts her chin and meets my gaze.

“Are you always like this?”

“Only when I see something I want.”

Another beat. Then her lips twitch, the sass I love reasserting itself. “And you always get what you want?”

“Usually,” I admit, eyes dropping to her mouth.

She bites her lip, trying not to smile. Like she can’t quite believe this is happening. I can see the battle behind her eyes—logic versus lust, good sense versus curiosity.

And she’s losing.

She turns a little more toward me. Not much, just enough so her thigh brushes mine.

And fuck, I feel it everywhere.

Her friend returns a moment later. She’s cool and composed, but her eyes flick quickly between us, clocking the tension. Jenna’s gaze flicks to her like she’s been jolted awake. Relief blooms in her expression, but there’s something else layered beneath it. Disappointment, maybe. Like she didn’t want the moment to end.

“Hey,” her friend says, a hint of mischief in her voice. “I just met a very hot guy who asked me to join him.” She lifts a brow at Jenna. “Unless you want me to stay?”

It’s not really a question. Even I can hear the undercurrent—this is her out. The moment of truth. If she says yes, the night ends here. A polite thank you and a smile, and she’ll be off with her chaperone, safe and untouched.

But if she says no…

Jenna looks between us. Takes a breath. “No,” she says softly. “You go have fun.”

Her friend beams, eyes turning back to me with a knowing glint. She didn’t meet anyone. That was for Jenna’s benefit. She gives her a quick hug, whispers something in her ear, then disappears into the crowd.

Once again we’re alone.

I rise from my seat and extend my hand. “Join me upstairs? My booth is private, we’ll be a little more secluded.”

She hesitates before placing her fingers in mine. “Yeah. Sure.”

Her hand is small. Soft and warm. Mine swallows it whole.

When she stands, a slow, volcanic surge of desire pushes heat through my limbs. Her dress clings to her body in all the right places, hugging her curves like a lover’s touch. Her cleavage teases just above the neckline, her hips sway as she moves, and the scent of her wraps around me like silk.

My cock stirs to life, thickening with each beat of my pulse.

She doesn’t notice. Or, if she does, she pretends not to.

I smile, grateful again for the mask.

Anonymous fun—that’s what this place is about. What she came here for. What I came here for.

Except she’s Jenna Ridley.