Unmasked

I can’t get enough.

It’s a high like nothing else, overpowering every one of my senses with her. For one crazy moment, I know what it’s like to teeter on the brink of madness. Ignore reason and logic, totally overpowered by raw animal need.

I could lose myself in her. Willingly abandon all self-control.

No.

I catch myself, too late. I wrench away from her, panting, to find the world spinning on as usual: the lights of the city all around us, the flow of traffic, the chilled night air. It all comes crashing back in, and I wonder how the hell I managed to block out reality for these few dangerous moments.

How I completely forgot myself.

“I apologize,” I ground out, my voice rasping with the lust still pumping through my body. I release her, and put a safe few feet between us. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

By the dazed look on the woman’s face, she didn’t either.

“Of course.” She clears her throat, her eyes darting around. “It was… I don’t know what it was.”

Incredible. Intoxicating.

Dangerous as hell.

“We should…” I gesture randomly towards the museum. The stoplights change again down the street, providing us with a break in the traffic.

“Right. Sure. I mean…” The woman blinks again, then her focus clears. She laughs suddenly, bright and carefree. “I suppose this night couldn’t get any stranger.” She gives me a warm grin, then turns away and starts walking to the other side of the street.

I’m thrown a minute by how fast she’s collected herself. I still feel like I’ve been hit by a semi, grasping for my usual cool. I hurry to catch up with her, and politely offer my arm, but she doesn’t take it.

“I guess this is good night,” she smiles, when we safely reach the steps.

“I guess so.”

I pause a moment. Every instinct is screaming at me to ask her name, take her number, flag down a passing cab and invite her back to my apartment. I want to lock the bedroom door, strip off that cocktail dress and spend the next forty-eight hours ravishing her amazing body.

It would be a bad idea, I know. She’s just a stranger to me, a passing temptation. The kind of risk that’s best left untaken.

But damn, I would enjoy losing this devilish game.

Before I can say a word, she makes the decision for me. With another carefree smile, the woman flutters a wave. “Enjoy the rest of the evening,” she says, sounding amused. “Maybe you’ll find another damsel to rescue.”

Then she’s walking away, skipping lightly up the steps of the museum and disappearing inside before I can call out to make her stay.

I ignore the disappointment that hits me the moment she’s out of sight. That was a close call, I tell myself, slowly climbing the steps. A narrow escape.

Because despite the fever that raged in my bloodstream for those few crazy moments I held her in my arms, I already know that fevers never last. They come on strong, destroy every sense of reason, and then break in the night, leaving you with nothing but a cold sweat and lingering unease.

This woman was a distraction from the business at hand, nothing more.

And I never allow myself to be distracted.

2.

Noelle

I hurry blindly through the front entrance of the museum, my heart pounding. All around me, there’s a chaos of lights and people, dressed up in masks and party clothes, but it’s all just a blur to me.

What just happened?

I spy the coat check room to my left and quickly slip inside. The attendant is talking to someone up front and doesn’t notice as I sneak deeper into the closet. Coats and scarves are packed on the rails, but I find a bench to sit on in the back, hidden in the folds of clothing.

I sink against the wall, breathless and dizzy. I can still feel the blazing imprint of the strange man’s lips, the way his hands gripped at my waist. It was incredible: one moment we were flirting over my trapped heel, and the next…?

My cheeks go hot, remembering the look that came into his dark eyes. Even through his mask, there was something so raw and intent in his gaze, like he couldn’t hold himself back a moment longer. He had to have me.

It was the sexiest moment of my life.

And totally, completely inappropriate. I try to pull myself together, imagining what my mother would say. What kind of man kisses a complete stranger in the middle of the street like that?

A damn gorgeous one.

And what kind of woman just kisses him back?

Me.

I shiver, my blood still singing with desire. From the moment he crossed the street towards me, I wanted him. It was something I couldn’t explain: the way his suit hung perfectly from his broad, muscular shoulders; how the dark cast mysterious shadows across his jaw. In that bandana, he looked like an old-fashioned highwayman, ready to steal me away on exotic adventures.

And when he touched me…

I was lucky he pulled away so soon, otherwise Lord knows what I would have done right there in the middle of traffic. The kind of things that would get me arrested and disbarred from the law in the state of New York, for sure.

And then, just as quickly as the heat took us over, it was gone; the desire in his eyes replaced with something almost like panic. Behind his mask, the shutters fell. Somehow, I knew, the moment was gone, like waking from a delicious dream to find your alarm blaring and the cold, harsh light of morning outside.

I sigh, glad for the dark folds of fabric surrounding me and the privacy of this hideaway. The sexy stranger may be long gone, but I can stay a little longer, suspended in blissful memories, pretending like reality isn’t waiting just outside the door—and my fourth blind date of the month.