Page 33 of The Chase
A few hundred tuxedo-wearing men watched the performance, all of them with skimpily clad women by their sides, who mirrored what I was wearing. Their luxury lingerie hid nothing. A few dared to go topless. This could have been a Victoria’s Secret photo shoot. The variety of stunning lingerie was breathtaking.
A rich man’s playpen.
Booze flowed from silver trays carried by thong-wearing waitresses, who offered fresh flutes of champagne or golden spirits that were no doubt the very expensive kind.
The music changed to sultry French lyrics, setting the scene for arousal. The atmosphere crackled. I’d lost track of time and wondered how close to midnight we were.
Tobias led me to the far corner of the room, right up to the large mantel where a hearth burned brightly, orange logs sparking and exuding the kind of heat these old houses desperately needed. Rising out of those flames burst the scent of pinecones and rosemary.
I turned to face the marble mantel and warmed my hands against the dancing flames.
Glancing left and then right, this was also a perfect vantage point to view the other guests, and despite their masks it was obvious the men came from wealth and the women with their tall, slender figures were merely trophies, perhaps some of them coming from money themselves.
“Turn around,” Tobias whispered.
I did so with a huff of rebellion and nudged up against him. His palm rested against the arch of my lower spine, sending shivers up it.
“I’d love to visit your gallery,” I said. “The one in LA.”
He dipped his head to my ear. “We’re wearing masks for a reason. Let’s not give any clues to who we really are.”
“Sorry.”
“You’re forgiven.”
I raised my chin. “You’re not. Forgiven, that is.”
His hand slid lower and he gripped the back of my thong—and tugged.
I gasped when my thong rubbed my clit and it ignited in a shock of bliss. My sex thrummed with pleasure.
He smirked. “Something wrong?”
“You’re not allowed to do that,” I said in a rush.
“Clearly I am.”
“No, we’re merely pretending to be lovers.”
“Lovers?”
“Well, whatever the kind of relationship these people have—” I swept my hand into the crowd.
“They seem happy to me.”
“I’ll take a rain check.”
He grabbed my arm. “Not without me.”
“Why?”
He gave a polite smile to a couple standing close. “They’ll stop you. And then give you back to me.”
“Lucky me.” I waggled my eyebrows playfully.
He looked amused. “So, how does it feel to step outside your comfort zone?”
“You like living dangerously?”
