I knew those people.

I had a life.

I was invited to party with them.

I had freedom, after all.

Only, whatever freedom I thought I had jerked to a stop as a man’s arm snaked around my waist, yanking me back. My languidness from champagne meant I folded neatly into his embrace, too slow to fight.

His lips landed on my ear. “If it was coincidence yesterday, it has to be fate today.”

I froze.

Whatever tipsiness I suffered tripled as his hands roamed my ribcage, taking liberties he wasn’t given, rubbing the soft silk into my skin in ways that should be illegal.

“Hello, Elle.” His lips traced from my ear to my throat, nudging my braid to gain better access.

I shivered.

My body melted—not from him but the champagne. It had to be the champagne. I wouldn’t allow it to be him.

Sucking in a breath, I tore myself from his embrace and swiveled to face him.

He was just as divine. Just as cocky. Just as dangerous.

“Are you stalking me?”

Mr. Everett grinned. “I wouldn’t dare.”

He stood in a gray suit with the cuffs of his blazer and white shirt pushed half-way up his forearms. How he managed to get the material that high over how muscular his arms were, I didn’t know. The strobe light decorated his hair, making it seem light then dark, light then dark. The yin and yang of right and wrong—the glimpse of imperfections that made him eternally frustrating.

“After all, why waste my time when the universe keeps putting you in my path?”

My mouth watered as his gaze locked onto my lips. A black ravenousness filled his eyes that any hot-blooded female understood—virgin or promiscuous.

“I don’t believe it’s the universe.” I blinked, forcing myself to cling broken-nail tight to sanity. “I think it’s some sort of game you’re playing.”

He lowered his jaw, stepping closer until our chests brushed. My nipples tightened embarrassingly hard. Not wearing a bra meant my reaction was noticeable through the burnished gold dress.

He licked his bottom lip, his gaze dropping to my breasts then back to my mouth. “If I was playing something, are you intrigued enough to learn the rules?”

“Never.”

His lips smiled but his face was toxic. “Little liar.”

His hand came up, tucking a wayward curl behind my ear. His fingers captured the diamante chandelier earrings I wore, tugging gently. “I think you are ready to play with me, you just don’t want to admit it.” He bent his head, breathing into my ear. “I’ve been patient, but I meant what I said to your father. I can make you do things, Elle. Things you want to do. Things I want to do. I particularly liked when you said you’d get on your knees and call me, what was it? Oh, master?”

I jerked back, but with his fingers holding my earring, I daren’t move quickly or far.

He bent forward. His tongue licked my lobe just once.

A lightning bolt arched from his tongue to my belly. A crack. A fissure. A deep cavernous ache I needed, needed to fill.

“One date,” he murmured. “That’s all I’m asking.”

The champagne switched to more potent alcohol. Had I truly had four glasses? It felt like twelve.

I swam in air. I wobbled in heat. I swayed as his hands locked around my hips, dragging me into him. Surrounded by people yet all alone in our little cosmos, he rocked his erection into my stomach, grinding his teeth with the same angry desire rampaging in my blood.

The room spun. I did my best to keep control. “I don’t—I don’t even like you.”

“I don’t like you.”

“Then—” He shocked me mute as he kissed my cheek, then rewarded such sweetness with a nasty nip.

“Then what?” he taunted. “Finish, Elle.”

My head weighed more than the galaxy. “Then...let me go.”

“Can’t.” The tip of his tongue soothed the pinch of pain from his teeth.

Can’t?

My mind doggy paddled through syrup.

Why can’t you? Isn’t mutual affection the first key to unlocking passions padlock?

His fingers looped around my throat, full of threat, robust with peril. “Liking each other doesn’t matter.” His fingers dug tighter into my skin. “What matters is how you feel about this.” He glanced around, assessing how public we were, before his hand swooped between us and cupped between my legs.

The world shot to a standstill.

There was no more music. No more club.

I stood in mud so thick, I couldn’t move. My only way free was this bastard and he was the one drowning me.

Everything inside me clenched then stretched then multiplied with a thousand screaming ‘mores.’

“Tell me to stop, and I’ll stop. Tell me to remove my hand, and I’ll remove my hand.” His fingers feathered over me, rocking his palm against my clit; his fingers pressing over the tight lace protecting me. “But if you tell me you’re all right with this, if you tell me to keep going, then you play by my rules. You become mine in every fucking sense.”

I shivered as his fingers probed harder. I’d never been touched that way—let alone in a crowded bar.

“I—I don’t know.” Words were the hardest thing in the world to form. “I don’t know what to say.”

“I’ll help you.” His hand vanished. His body separated from mine as he grabbed my wrist and dragged me into the dark hallway of the bathrooms. Marching past the men’s and women’s, he tucked me against the wall and pressed me hard against it.