I want to pretend to be the confident person I used to be, but I’m not her, I can’t pretend. Not even wearing a mask can transform me into a different person. When the song ends, I thank the stranger for the dance when I feel him behind me. My whole body breaks into chills. I know if I turn around, I will come face-to-face with Jax. I’m not ready, but my body doesn’t want to listen to me anymore. I slowly turn around toward the one person that I want more than anything.

I’m taken aback when it’s not Jax. This is a new stranger. The man staring intensely down at me wears a blood red mask that covers his entire face, except for his lustful lips. He looks like the devil; the mask even has horns at the top. I blink a few times, expecting this devil mask to disappear and a simple black Casanova mask to take its place.

Automatically, I take his offered hand.

Mr. Secretive pulls me close so there isn’t any space between our bodies. I can feel his hard muscles underneath his tux. My breathing has become embarrassingly noticeable, and I’m pretty positive that my skin is on fire when his hands start to roam my bare arms. I look up at his face, trying to see his eyes, but with the lack of light on the dance floor, it’s impossible to tell the color.

I’m so confused, everything in me tells me this is Jax. He’s the only one who can ignite my skin, that makes my whole body burn. But my mind can’t process why he’s in a different mask.

Because this isn’t him. This is Mr. Secretive.

He still hasn’t said anything and I don’t want to break the spell he has me under. He continues to grind his groin into my pelvis with the beat of the music, making it painfully obvious how aroused he is. By the pool of moisture gathering in my panties, it’s safe to say I’m in the same boat as him. The song is almost over when I get a quick whiff of his cologne.

And I know without a doubt who’s behind the mask.

I shouldn’t have doubted myself. I knew it was Jax before I turned around. I know him. My body knows him. I can feel him even from across the room. It’s as if my body, my soul, wants to haunt me forever. To torture me some more by reminding me what I can never have.

Jax.

Chapter Eight

Reaching up, I thread my hands through his velvety soft hair. I pull his head down to me and press my lips to his. Jax releases his hold on my hips to cup my face as he deepens the kiss. I meet his tongue eagerly, loving the taste of him. I nibble on his lip and he growls into my mouth, turning me on even more. He’s the one to pull back first. I smile when I see he’s as breathless as I am. We’ve both just run an imaginary marathon.

The smoldering look he gives me makes me shiver. I’ve never wanted anyone as desperately as I want him right here, right now. Without thinking long enough to talk myself out of it, I grip his hand and lead him off the dance floor. If there wasn’t people everywhere I would be sprinting with him to the nearest closed door. I weave us through the crowd and out to the hallway. I pull him along while I find somewhere for us to be alone.

The first door we come to is locked. Same thing for the second one. We both sigh in relief when the third door opens. As I tug him in after me, my heel catches on the rug and I start to fall, but his grip on my hand saves me. He holds me to him as if he’s afraid to let me go. Spinning me around, he roughly slams his body into mine, banging my back into the wall. His hands are everywhere.

Oh God . . . his magical hands skim the side of my body. He then squeezes my hip. I’m positive that I’ll have a bruise there tomorrow. I bite my lip to suppress my moan, too afraid to break the silence because I don’t want anything to stop this. There’s a reason why he hasn’t uttered a single word. It will break the spell, it will give him away. I don’t dare stop him. If this is the way he wants to talk, then who am I to stop him. I love our new communication skills.

I manage to slide his tux jacket off his sculpted shoulders, but when he starts kissing my neck, I lose it and grasp his biceps to stay upright. I try to stay quiet, but it’s impossible, it feels too good.

“Oh . . . God . . . Ahh,” I moan out loud.

He makes the hottest noise I’ve ever heard in the back of his throat. Even the sounds he’s making are turning me on. I want him and I want him now. I push him off me with as much force as I can manage. The puzzled look he gives me makes me smirk. He thinks I’m stopping this. Ha! No way that’s happening. It’s been too long since I’ve felt him inside me. I lock the door.

I yank his shirt roughly out of his tuxedo pants and drag him towards a nearby chair in the room. I push him down. He sits in the chair and then slowly slides down the zipper on the side of my dress.

His eyes never stray from my face. The intensity in his stare makes me feel like the most seductive woman in the world. Knowing that he finds me beautiful gives me the courage to let my dress fall to the floor. I stand in my Louboutin and La Perla purple lace panties. Nothing else.

Jax’s gaze slowly leaves my faces as he takes in my naked breast, my tight stomach, barely-there panties, and then finally my toned legs. I move slowly to him, closing the distance between us. After the last step, I’m standing directly in front of him, ready to melt just from him watching me. I’ve never felt so wanted, so cherished in all of my life. He hasn’t even touched me yet, but I can feel him all the way to my core.

It suddenly dawns on me that I’m out of my element. I haven’t been with anyone else in six years. Jax has continued to sleep around with women who know exactly what to do in and out of the bedroom. I’m not them. I’ve only been with Jax. Standing in front of him in just panties, my newly found courage melts away. My mind races. Is it possible to forget how to have sex?

Luckily Jax takes the lead. He runs one finger from my left hipbone all the way to the right. With one look he gives me back all of the confidence that was drifting away. He’s showing me that he needs me as desperately as I need him. It’s his eyes, they give everything away, they always have. That one finger leaves goosebumps in its wake. I’m ready to convulse when his other hand traces the outline of my flat stomach.

“Please,” I moan loudly.

Jax chuckles as his hand falls away. I’m not even a little ashamed when I whimper in protest. I’m done with his games. They went out the window when I locked the door. I don’t want to go slow, the last six years has been leading up to this moment.

I straddle his lap while I unbutton his shirt. I bend my head down so I can press my lips to each inch of skin that I expose. He finally breaks the silence by letting out a moan. It’s my turn to chuckle. I slow my pace of removing his shirt just to make him as frustrated as I am. Too bad, Jax plays dirty. He roughly presses me harder into his lap. His erection hits me exactly where we both want it.

I give up trying to tease him and rip his shirt open. Buttons fly in every direction. My panties get drenched just from the noise of the buttons scattering on the marble flooring. I can’t wait for what’s going to come. He yanks his arms out of his shirt, eager to be rid of it. I take advantage of the fact that he’s leaning forward, into me, and press my breast into his face.

Jax groans loudly when I tug his hair to direct his mouth to my sensitive nipple. Too bad, Jax has other plans in mind. His head falls back as he smirks at me. It’s a smirk that tells me who is in charge. Him. I doubt I was ever in charge in the first place.

He licks a trail all the way from the middle of my breast to my neck, then nips at my jaw. I’m panting as I rub my clit on his rock hard cock. My breathing is embarrassingly fast and I’m positive that he can hear the loud thumping of my heart. He kisses each corner of my mouth and when he is close enough to my mouth that I can feel the heat from his breath, I try to kiss him but he pulls back with the smug look that I secretly love. I don’t love it now. Right now I hate it. Glaring at him, I pull his hair hard, and angrily kiss him.