Raw

It’s the epitome of elegance. The sparkling white-tiled floor is freshly polished and waxed, with tall, thick Grecian-style pillars every few yards in the brightest of whites. They seem to be holding up the room while the walls gleam in gold and peach. Curtains, also peach-colored, decorate the six bay windows on both sides of the room.

Round tables that seat eight each are strategically placed around the room. The white tablecloths match the white chair covers, each chair decorated with a thick peach and gold ribbon fastened into a bow at the back.

And here we are, three nobodies who should not be able to afford to come to a charity ball like this, openly gaping at our surroundings.

A moment passes before Nikki murmurs, “Maybe we should get our masks on.”

I’ve been holding my mask the entire time. The invitation said costumes were a must but masks were optional, and from what I can see, most of the women have worn them while none of the men have bothered. Which is fair, because when I asked Dave which mask he chose, he laughed. And laughed. And laughed some more.

Nodding to Nikki, she comes forward to help me with my mask. It’s a little unusual, but I couldn’t say no. It’s all white lace in the shape of a butterfly, and lined with white velvet; she clips it into the sides of my hair. It’s so light, it doesn’t feel like I’m wearing anything at all, and although it covers most of my face, you can still see it’s me. Nikki chose a black and gold cat-eye mask, which is held up by a long thin pole in her hand.

Both masked, we smile at each other and take Dave’s elbow. Walking past a tall spiral staircase, I feel eyes on me. Halting in my tracks, I look up.

I spot him at the top of the stairs walking down towards me. He’s dressed in black slacks, a white shirt, and black silken wings. The wings are tattered and frayed. His slacks are ripped, his white shirt torn and slashed. Red droplets of dried paint drip from his heart. Something black that looks like soot has been rubbed into his face to make him look dirty. When he reaches us, he looks Dave up and down before uttering huskily, “I believe this belongs to me.”

Holding his hand out, palm up, I don’t even think as I let go of Dave and move over to stand with him. Tucking my hand into the crook of his elbow, he holds out his free hand to Dave and introduces himself. “You’re David Allen.” Dave nods, dumbstruck. Letting go of Dave’s hand, he takes Nikki’s small hand in his and kisses the top of it. “And you must be the lovely Nicole Palmer.”

Oh my God. The nerve! Acting all fakely suave around my friends. Gah!

Gritting my teeth and gripping his shirt tightly, I watch my friends go gaga over Twitch and fight the urge to yell, “It’s a trap! Don’t fall for it!” and continue to hold onto him. He chats with Nikki and Dave a while, and Nikki shoots me a look that says she approves. As in, a lot. I can see Dave has his doubts, eyeing Twitch’s tattooed neck and hands. I want to flick his nose, telling him not to stereotype people, but in this instance, I’d be wrong.

Twitch is exactly as his stereotype predicts. And that sucks.

I wish he was different. He’s not exactly boyfriend material. That, and he has a girlfriend.

At least, I think he does. Ling’s a bitch. She’d suit him to a T.

Suddenly, we’re walking in the opposite direction from my friends. Brows bunched, I ask, “Where are we going?”

He says with no feeling, “I told them I’d claimed you as my date tonight.” Face scrunching further, he eyes me and his lip twitches. “Nicole seems to like me. David not so much.”

I scoff, “That’s because you’re full of shit! Nikki is a hopeless romantic, whereas Dave can smell bullshit a mile away.” He doesn’t respond, just walks me along nodding his head. We stop at a deserted corner of the room and Twitch takes his time looking over my costume.

The more he looks, the more irritated he seems to become. And suddenly, I’m petrified that I made the wrong choice. Trying to take attention off of me, I ask, “What are you meant to be?”

His gaze roams my body once more. His hooded eyes finally reach mine. Searching my face a long time, he finally turns away, looking into the crowd. “Love.”

My entire body breaks out in goosebumps and I visibly shudder.

Love? He’s love? What the heck? He and I have very different views of love. That’s sad. Just…sad.

Catching my eyes, he scowls, “Don’t do that.” My face falls, and as I go to ask him what he means, he adds, “Don’t feel sorry for me. And don’t assume you know me. You don’t know shit about me.”

Face flaming, wanting to avoid an argument, I let go of his sleeve and start to walk away. He catches my hand and holds it tight, leading me in the opposite direction. Confused, I ask quietly, “Where are we going?”

He walks me a long while before he answers, “Taking you on a tour of my home.”

Did he just say his home? This is his home?

Mouth gaping in disbelief, he leads me out of the ballroom, down a short hall, and up a flight of narrow stairs. As we reach the top of the stairs, he turns to glance at me and does a double-take at my extremely obvious expression. “Don’t look so shocked, Lexi. You know what I do for a living. Money comes easy. Spending it comes easier. And I don’t have many outlets.” The bored tone of his voice is starting to become irritating.

As he pulls me closer to him, I blurt out, “Is Ling your girlfriend?”

Sneakily side-eyeing him, I watch his lips tilt in the corners. “Does it matter?”

Yes!

Adapting his bored tone, I lie through my teeth, “Not really. As long as it doesn’t affect me or the men I…” Ahem, “…see.”

His grip tightens on my hand, and suddenly I’m pushed into the hall wall. Breathing heavily, I watch him transform from a dark prince to something demonic. His eyes flash and his face contorts in rage; reaching down, he paws my mound through my dress and says through gritted teeth, “No one touches you. You got that? As long as I want you, no one else gets you, and after I’m done with you…” He licks my jawline. My eyes flutter. He presses his erection into my thigh. “…you’ll be forever unsatisfied. No one will ever take care of you the way I can. The way I know you want it. I know what you need, Lexi, even if you don’t know it yourself. But I’ll teach you.”

My heart practically beats out of my chest. I’m a little frightened and not sure what to do with what he just said to me. Apart from the fact that he said he will leave me. Not a maybe. A fact. This is why I should just walk away. And I need to voice this. So I do.

I whisper shakily, “I need to walk away from you.”

His nose runs up the length of mine and my eyes flutter closed. His bottom lip barely touches my top one as he whispers back, “What makes you think I’ll let you, Alexa?”

My stomach dips. Opening my eyes, I ask seriously, "Why do you watch me? I need to know.”

My stomach dips a second time when he inhales, looks over my face as if it were a work of art, then leans forward and kisses the tip of my nose. And he does this so gently, so sweetly, that my heart aches. “All in good time. You don’t know me. Yet.”

That almost sounds like a promise. My heart kick-starts again. I can live with that. A small promise is good for now. I wasn’t expecting much, so I guess I’m getting exactly what I expected.

Taking in a deep breath, I look at his soot-stained face and change the subject. “You’re going to get me dirty.”

His eyes darken a shade. “Already have, baby.” And I know what he just said has nothing to do with soot.

Reaching by my left side, the squeak of a doorknob sounds and he pushes the door open. We stare at each other a second longer before he takes my elbow and leads me into a huge bedroom. My core clenches in excitement at the sight of the king-sized sleigh bed against the right side of the room, but I do an excellent job holding myself together.