Why had I listened to Everett?

I asked myself the same question for the tenth time since I got home last night. It sounded like a great idea when we were at the diner talking about it, but when I was alone, I started questioning the wisdom of it, and I'd just gotten more uncertain throughout the day today.

But I was still walking toward the front door of the club, the mask I'd forgotten to return clutched in my hand. Part of me was hoping I'd run into Jace before I had the chance to put the mask on, and I wouldn't have to make any decisions about what to do when I saw him.

Because that was the one thing that neither Everett nor I had been able to agree on, partially because I couldn't decide if I wanted to come clean or not. I could leave things as they were between Jace and myself, keep our one night together as a special memory, and continue with my piece on Jace as if nothing had happened. That would be the smartest thing to do, both professionally and personally.

And yet here I was, wearing a sexy red dress that I found buried at the back of my closet, ready to put myself out there on the off chance that this thing I'd felt between us hadn't been a fluke.

I smoothed my hands over my dress, but it didn't really need it considering it fit like it'd been painted on. It had been an impulsive purchase during a shopping spree with Lei and Lorde during our last spring break, and I'd only worn it once. I was confident in my sexuality, but this was the sort of thing designed to attract attention, and I'd never really wanted that before tonight.

I was a bit worried that the man at the door would confiscate the mask, and maybe even kick me out since I'd accidentally absconded with it, but he didn't do anything other than nod at me as I walked past. As soon as I was inside, I saw that the masquerade night must have been for the whole week because everyone else was still wearing masks. I quickly put mine on and moved off to the side to watch and wait.

I'd been there only a few minutes when I sensed someone come up beside me. Before I could turn and look, I caught the unmistakable scent of spice and clay and man. Jace.

"I hoped I'd see you here tonight."

"Likewise." My voice was surprisingly steady despite my nerves.

"Come with me."

He took my hand, his grip on my fingers loose enough that I could pull free if I wanted to. Instead of doing that, I let him pull me after him. As we made our way toward the back of the club, I tried to think of what I'd say to him when we were alone, but even as he closed the door behind us a few moments later, my mind was blank.

"You look incredibly beautiful," he said as he slid his hands up my arms.

Now that I knew who he was, I could tell he was using his hands to learn my body, just like he had before.

"Thank you," I said. "You do too."

He wore a fitted charcoal gray short-sleeved shirt and a pair of jeans that hugged his firm thighs and ass. He had on the same mask as the other night, but even though his outfit was more casual, he managed to pull off this one as well as the other.

"So..." I took a deep breath to gather my courage. "I was wondering if, this time, we could take off the masks. See each other."

He went so still that I wondered for a moment if I'd said the wrong thing. Then he offered me a smile that seemed a bit tight. "How about this? We leave them on while we see if we really do have chemistry together, and if we still want to reveal our identities after, we can do it then."

I wanted to get this out of the way, to know for certain that Jace wanted me and not just masked mystery me. But I wanted to be with him one more time even more. Especially since I didn't know if I'd get the chance once he learned who I was.

I nodded. "All right. We'll do this your way."

His smile widened into the wicked sort of grin that tied my stomach in knots. "I thought we agreed last time that when we're in here, everything is my way."

Fuck.

All I could do was stand there as he lowered his head. His eyes blazed as his mouth came down on mine. The edge of my mask pressed into my face, but I didn't mind. If this was going to be the last time he kissed me, the last time I would know what it was like to be claimed by him, then I almost wished for something that would leave a lasting impression.

His tongue plundered my mouth, and his hands dug into my hips, pulling me so tightly against him that I could feel the ridge of his cock pressing against my stomach through his zipper. I pushed up on my toes, desperate to feel that pressure and friction against the place I needed it the most. He groaned as I nipped his bottom lip, then soothed the sting with my tongue.

"I couldn't stop thinking about you," he confessed as he broke the kiss. He rested his forehead against mine, his grip tightening as if he was afraid I'd walk away.

Not that there was a chance in hell of that happening. I was in too fucking deep.

"What were you thinking?" I whispered the question because I didn't trust my voice not to shake. Knowing that he'd been thinking about me, maybe even when he'd been opening up to me about his past, gave me hope, however tenuous, that he might not be disappointed when he saw who I was.

His fingers flexed, as if he wasn't quite as tightly contained as he seemed. "So many things."

I shivered at the dark promise in those words. I might have been a bit nervous at all the possibilities, but fear was definitely not one of the emotions I was feeling at the moment. Knowing that he was Jace made me trust him more, not less.

"Tell me." I supposed it could have seemed like a demand – which even I knew was a no-no for someone in a submissive position – but it sounded more like a plea. Which, I guessed, in a way it was. If this was going to be our final time together, I wanted to know as much about him as possible.

"You're new to this," he said, "I don't want to frighten you."

I closed my eyes as another shiver went through me, this one of anticipation. "I want to know. Please." His name was on the tip of my tongue and it took everything I had not to call him by it. "What have you been thinking about me?"

"How much I want to push you," he finally confessed. "How I want to learn your limits, and then take you places that you've never thought possible. I want to test your pain threshold by showing you just how good it can be to hurt, how pain can make pleasure so much more exquisite, more intense."

I silently swore. I told myself that I would be okay if this was it, if we ended here, but listening to him talk, my nipples were already hard, my pussy throbbing and wet. How could I give this up? How could I walk away and never feel this way again?

Still, I couldn't even begin to imagine what it would be like if we went past tonight. How could a person survive something like what he described? Survive that kind of intensity? I'd burst into flames if I was subjected to this daily.

But what a way to go.

"I thought about all the ways I could make you scream again," he continued, his voice rough. "How beautiful your skin would look with red stripes from a flogger. The sounds you would make when I put clamps on your nipples. And then the even hotter ones when I removed them. The way you would curse and writhe, tugging on restraints while I took you to the edge over and over again, but never quite let you get there."

I'd spent too much time trying to argue with myself about the things I secretly wanted for years. I wasn't a virgin, and I wasn't a prude, but I'd always kept this part of myself under tight wraps. Now, he set it out there in a way I knew was meant to run me off. Instead, it drew me to him, knowing that the things he wanted to do to me fit with what I wanted done. Unlike previous lovers, he wouldn't balk at the experiences I wanted to try. If anything, he would want more.

If he decided he was willing to try for more than just tonight.

"Choose," I said quietly. "Choose what you want for tonight."

He stiffened, then pulled back enough so that his eyes could meet mine. For one heart-stopping second, I thought he recognized me, then he spoke, and I knew my identity was still a secret.

"I'll only ask this once, and after that, you'll have to use the safe words to stop me." His thumbs made circles on my hips, as if he was already imagining his answer to my quasi-demand. "Are you sure you want this?"

I didn't even hesitate. "Yes." Then, unable to stop with a simple one-word answer, I added, "How do you want me?"