Page 96 of Something to Someone

“Sorry,” I mumbled, and he immediately shook his head.

“Don’t be. I’ll save you the trouble—I’m almost forty.”

Another sip, and I realized I didn’t give a shit how old he was. Whether I was supposed to or not, I liked Mr. Phantom. And he could be the key to turning my terrible night around. “Well, I was born five years too late to see the premiere ofPowerful Girls.”

He seemed unsurprised by my admission which made sense with my outfit and pigtails and overall youthful look. But especially with the damn pigtails.

“So, how did you score an invite?” I asked as we walked to a small empty couch tucked in the corner where we’d first met. He let me sit first and took a seat directly next to me. The outside of his thigh brushed mine as he sat, and I couldn’t ignore the shiver that whipped through me.

He chuckled at my question which I’d forgotten I’d asked. “Or is it top secret?” I asked.

“Not top secret. My best friend owns the place, and I’ve helped him a little along the way.”

He told me about Abditory and how his friend, Nathan, randomly decided one day that the city needed an exclusive, invite-only sex club where anyone could be themselves and explore their desires in a safe, inclusive way. That then brought us to the topic of how I was invited, and I told him about Grant Events without specifying the name, keeping a few details for myself. He seemed genuinely interested in event coordination and what went in to planning.

I shared some of my favorite memories from the past several months of working with Caroline, and we talked about his work as an attorney. By the time, they made the announcement that the upper two floors were opening, I hadn’t realized so much time had passed.

Somehow, in the midst of our conversation, we’d migrated closer to one another. My legs tilted toward him, his knee was pressed against mine and his fingers brushed the top of my leg.

He still hadn’t taken the mask off, but I could at least clearly see his eyes which were fixed on me. His smile slowly faded, and I could feel the shift. He glanced from my face down to where his fingers touched my leg, and I felt like the one touch was going to burn me alive.

With two drinks and almost two hours of easy conversation, my confidence was at an all-time high and somehow the world had shrunk to just us two sitting on that velvet couch wanting something just within reach.

Our world was too tiny for anyone else. Especially Owen who was a far-off memory. A twinge of guilt hit me once when I realized how much I was enjoying Mr. Phantom, but I quickly dismissed it. My soon-to-be ex didn’t deserve a second thought.

“How does someone go about getting one of those rooms upstairs?” I asked, pushing away any shame or possible embarrassment. It was just a question. A question I normally would never have asked, but behind that green curtain, I was determined to be someone else. At least for tonight.

Mr. Phantom straightened, and I worried I’d misjudged every subtle signal until he reached inside his tuxedo jacket and retrieved a small gold key from its inside pocket.

“You’d need a key.” He held it out to me in his large palm like an offering. When I went to reach for it, his next words stopped me. “I just need to know one thing before we go up there, because fuck, Bubbles, I really want to go up there with you.”

The tips of my fingers traced his, circling where he held the key and brushing over his wrist. I enjoyed the way his eyes shuddered, and he had to swallow before answering.

“What’s your name?” he finally asked.

My heart collided with the inside of my chest, and my name got stuck at the back of my throat. I couldn’t pinpoint why, but it was a detail I didn’t think he needed. Another piece of information I wanted to keep to myself.

“This is just for tonight, right?” I asked, resuming the pattern I was drawing over his palm.

He licked his lips and considered my question for a moment, his eyes narrowing like he couldn’t decide what to say next. “It can be whatever you want, Bubbles,” he finally said.

“Then what good is my name going to do you?”

I was staring down at the key when his dark chuckle hit my ears. Immediately, I perked up and looked up at him. He leaned forward and dropped his hand back to my thigh, only higher. He pushed his fingers up until they were just beneath the hem of my short skirt, and I could feel the heat of them between my thighs.

A moan caught in my throat, but I swore he heard my muffled whimper as he dropped his mouth to my ear.

“If I don’t know your real name, what am I supposed to cry out when my cock is buried deep inside your perfectly tight, wet cunt in less than ten minutes.”

I swallowed my shock and inadvertently squeezed my thighs together, searching for some sort of relief. But his hand was still there against me, and I ended up pushing it higher up my skirt. He grunted and sat back just enough to look down my body, getting the perfect view of my cleavage.

The way the words rolled off his tongue in his low, gruff whisper, and the confidence in each of them was enough for me to want to mount him right then and there. I had never been so thoroughly turned on and confused.

My pulse maintained an impressive, intense pace while I tried to compose myself enough to reply and continue our banter. I wanted to be someone new, but I couldn’t completely do away with my old self. “I’m sure you can come up with an alternative,” I said, but my voice was breathy. “I like Bubbles. It’s cute.”

He smiled and opened his mouth to speak when his attention bounced to someone who had approached from behind the couch. So invested in him, I hadn’t even noticed.

“Hey, Beckett. I knew I’d see you here, man. How are you?”

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