~Rebecca~
The word came from across the room, and I whipped my head around.
He was sitting in a chair near the window, legs crossed lazily, one arm draped over the armrest. And even in the dim light, even with the mist curling around him, I could see enough to know I was in trouble.
He wore a white shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing strong forearms. The top buttons were undone, giving me a glimpse of a bare chest that looked like it had been carved by a sculptor with a vendetta against modesty. Black pants. Black gloves.
And a golden mask covering the upper half of his face, ornate, beautiful, and completely fucking unnerving.
Why the mask? Was he hiding scars? Was this some rich-guy kink thing? Or did he just not want me to be able to identify him later if…..something went wrong?
His black hair was slightly tousled, and even though I couldn't see his eyes, I could feel them on me.
He tilted his head, studying me.
Then he laughed.
Soft. Amused.
"How amusing," he murmured. What was amusing about this?!
I flinched, then forced myself to swallow the panic clawing up my throat.
"I—I'm here for the—"
He stood, and oh God, he was tall. He moved slowly, crossing the room with the kind of confidence that came from knowing he had absolute control over what happened to me.
He stopped in front of me, and as a result of his closeness, I could smell his cologne. Dark, expensive, the kind that probably cost more than my rent. It hit me like a drug, and I hated that my pulse stuttered in response.
Get it together, Becca. He's a stranger. A masked stranger who paid a thousand dollars just for you to show up. This is a transaction. Nothing more.
"I'm aware," he said, his voice a low rumble.
He looked at me, tilted his head again, and then he chuckled, shaking his head like I was some kind of joke.
I frowned. Was he just going to laugh at me all night? "Look, do you want this or not?"
He paused. Then tilted his head the other way. "Oh?"
The single word was laced with a tone that made my stomach flip and my pulse spike. I felt both terrified and aroused, and I hated how my body didn't seem to know the difference.
I swallowed. "I mean—I'm here. I showed up. So if you're just going to—"
He reached out, his gloved fingers catching the lapel of my coat. And then, slowly, torturously slowly, he peeled it off. The fabric slid down my arms, pooling at my feet, leaving me standing there in my bodysuit, fishnets, and boots.
Exposed.
Vulnerable.
The air felt colder instantly, and I fought the urge to cross my arms over my chest. His gaze raked over me, clinical and invasive, and I felt stripped twice over.
"What," he said quietly, "do you understand of this job?"
I forced the words out even though my voice shook. "I'm to…..strip for you?"
He nodded. "Then why are all your clothes still on? Am I to do that for you as well?"
My throat went dry. Charming. Real charming. I could walk out right now. Grab my coat, run, never look back. But then I'd still be broke. Still stuck fetching coffee for a man who treats me like garbage.
I can do this. It's just skin. It's just a performance. I'm in control.....and wait.....he hasn't even paid yet.
As if my body suddenly remembered who was boss, I lifted my chin and met the blank gold of his mask head-on.
"You haven't paid me yet," I said defiantly, lifting my chin. "As far as I'm concerned—"
Before I could even finish my sentence, he laughed. The bastard fucking laughed.
It was a deep and rich sound, and strangely…I found it familiar. Wait….
A frown etched onto my brows as I rummaged through my mind and tried to recall where I had heard something like the laugh before.
No luck.
"Indeed," he said, reaching out to grab a strand of my hair. He twirled it between his gloved fingers, studying it like it was the most fascinating thing he had ever seen.
Then he let it go, and took a step back.
"You pass."
I blinked. Maybe I heard wrong. Yeah, I was hallucinating. "What?"
"You pass," he repeated, like it was obvious.
"Just like that?"
He tilted his head. "You don't want it?"
"Oh no, no, I—I do," I stammered. "I just—"
"Good." He turned away, walking back toward the chair. "My butler will give you the contract to sign. Read it carefully. And then come back tomorrow. Same time. If you're interested."
I stood there, frozen, clutching my coat like a lifeline.
"That's…..it?"
He glanced over his shoulder, and even though I couldn't see his face, I could feel his smirk.
"That's it."
I nodded, my brain struggling to catch up. "Okay. Um. Thank you?"
"Goodnight, Raven."
Raven? Where did that name come from?
Anyways, I grabbed my coat, shoved my arms back into it, and practically ran for the door. I passed? No way. Just like that?
As I was led out the house, a knot formed in my throat. Why did I have a bad feeling I had just gotten into something…..dangerous.