Page 1 of The Owner's Temptation

The night is warm, the kind of perfect late-summer evening that makes everything feel a little more alive, a little more electric. The Masquerade glows against the city skyline, its sleek black exterior accented by golden lighting that spills into the night like a beacon for the elite.

It’s exclusive, whispered about, wrapped in the kind of mystery that breeds rumors.

I’m not here for the mystery. I’m here for the free drinks.

Everline Consulting apparently always throws one hell of an Employee Appreciation Party and this year it’s on the rooftop terrace of one of New York’s most exclusive night clubs.

The Masquerade.

The buffet of food is delicious. The bar is… open and the music is feeding my soul.

“God, remind me why we don’t go out more?” Harper leans in, her breath warm against my ear as we sway together on the dance floor. “We arehot. We should be out getting worshipped every weekend.”

I laugh, tossing back the last of my cocktail before setting the empty glass on a passing waiter’s tray. “Because we’re broke.”

She scoffs. “Empty bank accounts are temporary. Bad bitches are forever.”

She twirls, her black dress clinging to her toned frame, while I follow, the hem of my form-fitting red mini dress riding up slightly as I move. I don’t bother tugging it down.

Tonight, I want to feelgood. Relaxed. And have fun.

It’s not a private party so as the night wears on, more and more patrons find their way up here.

Our gold wristband gives us access to the rooftop VIP area where the drink and food are plentiful, but we’ve not left the dance floor in half an hour.

If I know Harper, she is one hundred percent looking for someone to take home for the night.

But me?

I sigh to myself, ridiculing my own ridiculous inner monologue.

I don’t even know.

Harper smirks as we dance. “So. Word on the street is… this place has a sex club inside.”

“You really shouldn’t believe everything you hear from your hookups.” I roll my eyes, lips quirking in amusement. “They’re just trying to get in your pants.”

“They’re already in my pants,” she shouts over the music. “Andtheysay it’s someEyes Wide Shuttype shit—like, a full-blown secret society.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“It’s true!” She scoffs back. “They wear different color masks for different kinks.” She explains. Her eyes alive with excitement. “That’s why this place is called, The Masquerade.”

Now that I think about it, there is absolutely nothing about masks with this place.

The ground level is an indoor dance club called Limbo. This rooftop is just an extension of it.

This is like–a ten-story building.

Now my mind is racing at the possibility this could be true and I feel my face heating up as I consider the possibilities. What people would be… doing in there.

What it would be like to walk through and watch. To be watched.

I shake my head is only to clear the thoughts I’m spiraling down. "You’d sell your soul for a masked orgy, wouldn’t you?"

"Not mysoul, just my vagina and my time," she teases, taking another sip of her drink. Then she levels me with a look. "Speaking of time, when are you gonna get back out there and find a piece of ass to satisfy you?

“Look, I was tired of faking orgasms for Ben.” My voice carries a little too much over the music. I think my second cocktail is starting to kick in. “I don’t feel like faking it for a stranger too.”

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