Page 7 of Reckless King

In contrast, many of the men are wearing suits, which throws me a little. I assumed there’d be more skin on display. But maybe that’s the point. Maybe for many people, it’s the power imbalance, or at least the illusion of it, that turns them on.

“See anyone you like?” Anna asks.

I blink, then focus back on her. “I’m not really sure what I’m looking for. Or what I want. Or evenifI want.”

“That’s okay, there’s no rush. Let’s finish our drinks and then go and dance. And Violet…” She touches my hand, what I can see of her expression earnest. “Remember what I said. There’s no pressure. If all we do is dance the night away, then that’s okay. Right?”

It’s been too long since I’ve given myself a night to forget all my cares and just dance and have fun. She’s right. I take a deep breath and will the last of my jitters to disappear. Finally, the tension fully leaves my body, and I smile at her. “Right.”

CHAPTER FOUR

TATE

Ilean against Onyx’s bar as Reid orders two whiskeys from one of the masked bartenders. After talking business upstairs, he invited me to join him down here for a drink. On our way out of his office, I snagged a mask from the collection he keeps on hand. It’s made of leather dyed a red so dark it’s almost black and has devil horns that curl up over my forehead. I’m sure Mom would find it a fitting choice for me.

Once we have our glasses in hand, we stand with our backs to the bar and survey the club. Onyx was Reid’s dream, but he didn’t have the capital to get it up and running on his own. At the time he approached me, he was merely an acquaintance of an acquaintance. But over drinks, he sold me on the idea of this place—a club that would fulfill all the desires of New York’s richest and most powerful while allowing them to stay out of the spotlight.

A mass of bodies writhes on the dance floor before us, caught up in the thrill of anonymous hedonism. It’s something I’m familiar with. As one of the richest men in the country, it’s a feeling I’ve craved many times. The freedom that anonymity gives you can be intoxicating. I’m used to being the focus of most rooms I occupy. It can be a heady sensation, but sometimes,being the center of all that attention leaves me feeling more alone than anything else. At least here, when I catch the attention of others—and I do—it’s only because of the way I carry myself. It’s curiosity about what pleasure might be found under my hands, not interest in my money or power.

Reid takes a sip of his whiskey. “Are you sure you’ll only stay for one drink?” he asks. “I know you said you were toning things down, but that doesn’t mean you have to be celibate.”

He’s right. There’s no reason I shouldn’t indulge. This is the one place I can guarantee that what I do won’t end up splashed all over the tabloids. Except when I look around at all the women filling this place, most of whom would be ready and willing to do anything I ask of them, the anticipation that used to hit me like a shot of adrenaline isn’t there. After restraining myself for so long, I should be dying to let loose. And yet, the interactions I used to seek out, emotionless fucking, mindless pleasure seeking, leave me empty these days. I shake my head. “Just this one, and I’ll head home.”

As we sip our drinks, we talk more about the potential for Onyx’s expansion, adding a few other cities to the list of possible future locations, and Reid asks about Genesis-1. He’s one of our first buy-ins, so he has an interest in the project’s development. I’ve almost finished my whiskey when my attention is caught by a woman stepping through the club’s entrance.

She’s with a friend, but I barely notice the other woman. I’m too absorbed by the one in the short black dress and butterfly mask. She’s frozen just inside the doorway, her head turning one way, then the other, like she might bolt back outside at any moment. It’s glaringly obvious it’s her first time here. But when her friend leans in and speaks to her, she smiles and appears to relax.

She follows her friend to the bar, the hem of her dress brushing the tops of her toned thighs with every step, and for some reason, I can’t tear my eyes away.

They settle a little way down from where Reid and I are and order drinks. Then her dark-haired friend in the peacock mask leans in with a grin, and butterfly tilts her head back, her fingertips lightly brushing her chest as she laughs.

Something niggles at the back of my mind, as if the movement is almost familiar. I study her, taking her in from head to toe, getting momentarily distracted by the dip of her waist and the curve of her hips. But apart from that one gesture, nothing else triggers a sense of familiarity.

Not from this distance, at least.

Reid lets out a low chuckle. “Sonotone drink and then you’re leaving?”

I drag my attention away from the woman, who’s now sipping a cocktail as she looks out at the dance floor. “I’m leaving. Just admiring the view while I finish my drink.”

“Just so you know, you’re not the only one enjoying that view.” He gestures with his almost-empty glass toward two men farther down the bar, their heads turned toward the women as well.

It shouldn’t matter whether another man is considering making a move. I’m not staying, after all. And possessiveness over a woman—any woman, let alone one I haven’t even spoken to or touched—is a foreign concept to me. There are more than enough fish in my sea that I don’t have to worry about getting caught up with just one of them.

But when the men leave their position and park themselves next to the pair, a strange tension grips me. The woman in the butterfly mask stiffens as the taller one rests his forearm on the bar behind her.

Normally, I wouldn’t intervene, but considering how nervous she was when she arrived, I don’t like that he might be making her feel more uncomfortable.

I down the last of my drink and set it a little too hard on the bar. When I turn to Reid, his dark eyes behind his mask are full of amusement.

“You heading off now, then?” he asks, one side of his mouth tipping up in a smirk.

“Something like that.” I don’t bother to say goodbye as I stride away. He knows exactly where I’m going, as evidenced by the laugh that follows me as I move toward the woman and her friend. I couldn’t explain my motives if I tried. I’m just going with my instinct.

And right now, my instinct is telling me that tonight, the woman in the butterfly mask is all mine.

CHAPTER FIVE

VIOLET

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