Behind The Mask

Nick POV.

Friday night couldn't come fast enough.

I'd had the week from hell at Aurelian Group. Two acquisitions fell through because the targets got cold feet, then the board meeting on Tuesday lasted six hours and accomplished nothing. 

Jack spent most of Wednesday reminding me I needed to relax before I gave myself aàq heart attack. "You're thirty years old, not sixty," he'd said, leaning against my office door. "Go do something that doesn't involve spreadsheets."

So here I was back at Nocturne. I'd thought about Nyx all week, the way she made me forget I was Nicholas Bodeen for exactly three minutes and twenty-seven seconds.

"Mr. Bodeen," Dominic greeted me at the entrance with that practiced smile. "Welcome back, should I assume you're requesting Nyx again?"

"Yes."

"Of course. VIP Room Three is ready for you."

I followed him down the familiar hallway, my pulse already picking up. This was ridiculous. I'd dated models, actresses, women who made careers out of being beautiful, but none of them had stayed in my head like this masked stranger I'd met for less than five minutes.

The door to VIP Room Three stood open, I stepped inside, but she wasn't there yet. I sat on the leather sofa, adjusting my cufflinks out of nervous habit.

The door opened.

Nyx stepped inside wearing black lace this time. The lingerie left even less to imagination than the crimson from last week. Her red hair cascaded over her shoulders in waves, and that jeweled mask caught the amber light.

I couldn’t take my eyes off how stunning she looked in that lace.

"Hi," she said softly.

"Hi." I gestured to the space beside me on the sofa. "Would you sit with me first? Just talk?"

She hesitated, probably surprised by the request.

"Of course." She settled next to me, close but not touching, and I caught the scent of something floral. "Rough week?"

I laughed. It sounded bitter even to my own ears. "You could say that. How'd you know?"

"You look tired," Her gaze swept over my face. "And you're here on a Friday night instead of at some gala or fundraiser. Men like you usually have obligations."

"Men like me?"

"Powerful men," She said it without judgment. "The kind who carry the weight of a thousand decisions and never get to put it down."

Something in my chest tightened. "That's... surprisingly accurate."

"I'm surprisingly observant." She smiled, and even behind the mask I could see it reach her eyes. "So what happened this week?"

I told her. Just the broad strokes. The constant feeling that everyone around me wanted something and no one just wanted to talk.

She listened. Actually listened, not that polite nodding people did while waiting for their turn to speak.

"It sounds lonely," she said when I finished.

"It is," I'd never admitted that out loud before. "No one just talks."

"I'm talking." Her voice was gentle.

"You are," I looked at her, really looked at her. "Why does that surprise me?"

"Because you're used to people performing for you," She shifted slightly, tucking one leg under the other. "Saying what they think you want to hear."

"And you're not?"

"I'm always performing, Nick." There was something sad in her tone. "But at least I'm honest about it."

The conversation shifted. We talked about philosophy, about current events, about business ethics in ways that would've impressed half my executive team, she had opinions, real ones, backed by logic and nuance.

"You studied business?" I asked.

"You could say so," Careful deflection. "What about you? Did you always want to run Aurelian?"

"It was expected." I loosened my tie, feeling claustrophobic suddenly. "My father co-founded the company with Jack's father, so legacy and all that."

"Do you resent it?"

No one had ever asked me that. "Sometimes, most of the time I love it. But sometimes..." I trailed off.

"Sometimes you wonder what your life would look like if you weren't Nicholas Bodeen." She finished the thought like she'd read my mind.

"Yes."

Her smile was sad. "I understand that more than you know."

I wanted to ask what she meant, but I could see the walls going up. So I changed direction. "Tell me about you. Why this job?"

She looked away. "I'm supporting someone, They're sick and the medical bills..." She shrugged. "This job pays well, better than anything else I could do with my skill set."

"Do you enjoy it?"

"Parts of it." Her eyes found mine again. "The parts where I get to talk to interesting people."

My body suddenly reacted to that, like she said something nasty.

"Will you dance for me now?" My voice came out rougher than intended.

She stood without a word. The music started, something slow and hypnotic, and she moved.

God, she moved.

Not the mechanical gyrations some dancers did. She moved like the music lived inside her body, like every roll of her hips and arch of her back told a story, and my hands gripped the armrests hard enough to hurt because if I didn't hold on to something, I'd reach for her.

Her hair brushed my face as she leaned close, her perfume filled my lungs, and those eyes, always watching me through the mask, seeing too much.

I wanted to worship her body so bad.

The song ended with both of us staring at each other.

"Come here." I said it softly.

She hesitated for just a heartbeat before settling onto my lap, her hands rested on my shoulders. Mine found her waist.

"Is this okay?" she whispered.

Instead of answering, I pulled her down and kissed her.

The first touch of her lips was electric. She made a small sound in the back of her throat and opened for me, and I was lost. My tongue swept into her mouth, tasting her. She kissed me back with an intensity that felt too real for this to be just a transaction.

Her fingers tangled in my hair, while mine slid up her back, feeling every curve, every shiver. She rolled her hips against me and I groaned into her mouth.

We finally broke apart, both breathing hard, foreheads pressed together.

I cupped her face, and for a moment I forgot where we were. Her eyes through that mask were familiar in a way I couldn't place.

"I want to see you regularly," I told her. "Every Friday."

I shouldn’t want her like this, but every fiber of me does.

She tensed slightly. "I don't usually..."

"I'll pay double your rate. Whatever you charge, I’ll triple it. I don’t negotiate when I know what I want.." I sounded desperate and I didn't care. "Just say yes."

She opened her mouth to respond when my phone buzzed in my pocket.

I wanted to ignore it. Should've ignored it, but years of conditioning made me check.

Jack's name flashed on the screen with a text: "Still at Nocturne? Hope you’re having fun."

I stared at the text, then at Nyx. "My partner just checking on me. But Friday? Say yes."

Her face had gone pale behind the mask. All the color drained from her skin.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

She climbed off my lap quickly, smoothing down the lace. "Nothing. I just... I remembered I have something I need to..."

She was backing toward the door.

"Nyx, wait..."

"Friday." The word came out strangled. "Yes. Same time."

Then she was gone, the door clicking shut behind her, leaving me alone with the scent of jasmine and the feeling that I'd just missed something important.