Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 89142 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89142 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
“I believe so. Let me check in the back.” She returns a few minutes later with a dress covered in plastic. “Here you go—size eight. Would you like to try it on?”
“Yes, thank you.”
If I’m not going to check the price, I at least need to make sure it fits.
The dressing rooms are in the back, small closets covered only by a curtain. I quickly remove my clothes and try the dress on.
And oh my God.
It was made for me.
I have a tendency to gain weight around the middle, and if I gain a single inch, the dress will no longer fit.
No more hamburgers.
At least not before tonight.
I don’t want to take the dress off, but I must. Once it’s back on the hanger, I carry it to the front counter. “I’ll take it.”
She rings me up, and I hand her my credit card.
“That will be three hundred and fifty-seven dollars and eighty-eight cents.”
I gulp audibly.
But I purchase the dress.
And I hope to God this Phantom guy is worth it.
Chapter Six
Phantom
She walks in beauty, like the night…
I’m not a huge Byron aficionado, but he accurately describes what I see as she walks in.
My angel of music, wearing a mask that perfectly matches her silvery blue eyes.
Her dark hair is a little wavier tonight, and it falls around her shoulders. Her chest is bare, and her plump breasts are pushed up. The dress is black silk with cap sleeves, and it hugs her luscious body, the skirt stopping halfway to her knees. Black platform stiletto pumps complete her attire.
How did she become more beautiful in twenty-four hours?
My God, I want to know her name.
For a moment, I consider escaping out the back way.
Not because I don’t want to be with this woman, but because I want to be with her too much.
I want to take her down to the club. Introduce her to a scene.
But I also want to show her who I truly am.
And that never happens.
I don’t do monogamy. I don’t do relationships. Not anymore.
I enjoy scenes.
Sometimes with the same woman. Sometimes not.
I don’t date in the traditional sense. I usually find my partners in the club, but in the rare instance that I meet someone new in the bar—as I did this angel—sometimes, if things go well, I introduce her to scenes at the club.
If things don’t go well, I don’t.
No harm, no foul.
I already know I won’t take Angel down to the club tonight. She made a big deal about having to work in the morning. But I can at least see if she’s amenable to the idea. If she’s interested in exploring something unique and passionate. Something…darker.
So I move toward her, my cape floating around me—
She meets my gaze.
And she smiles.
Chapter Seven
Frankie
He seems to sail toward me, as if he’s being carried by that cape around him.
His mask is the same, his tanned skin is the same; his sculpted jawline, his black stubble.
His full pink lips, his gorgeous straight teeth.
His broad shoulders, his few chest hairs peeking out… All the same.
But tonight he wears a black shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.
I suck in a breath at those forearms. So perfectly corded with muscle.
Instead of jeans, he wears black trousers, perfectly fitted over his hips. Already I know his ass is flawless, even though I can’t see it because of the cape.
How can I be so attracted to someone when I haven’t even seen his whole face?
How can I know, according to the thrumming of my body, that this man can take me places I’ve never been?
But he can…and already I know I’ll let him.
He reaches toward me and trails a finger over my jawline. “Angel, you look beautiful. Where did you find that mask? It brings out the color of your eyes.”
“Chinatown,” I say on a breath.
“You put every other woman here to shame.” He takes my hand. “Come.”
I’m not sure where we’re going. The bar is full, with masked faces everywhere. Some are costumed elaborately in bright colors while others wear simple masks with no adornments. Only Phantom wears the white half mask, though.
I don’t see empty tables, until—
He leads me to the bar itself, to two empty seats at the very end.
“Good evening,” Alfred says. “It’s so nice to see you again.”
“You too, Alfred.”
“What can I get you tonight?”
“I think I’ll have one of the Phantom specials again. That martini last night was amazing.”
“Make it two, Al.”
“Coming right up.”
Phantom burns me with his gaze. “I have to admit, part of me wondered if you were going to come tonight.”
“Why would you wonder that?”
“Some women have trouble escaping into fantasy. I wasn’t quite sure which side you fell on.”
“I have to admit, normally I don’t do things like this.”
“I’m glad you decided to do it tonight.”
“Will you ever tell me your name?”
“Will you ever tell me yours?”