LOGIN
TARA
What the hell am I even doing here?
I asked myself a couple of times the moment I walked inside the venue. First, this wasn’t my scene anymore. I left that life eons ago. Second, I felt too exposed even with the mask as everyone turned in my direction. Truth be told, it wasn’t my fault.
Apparently, the woman behind me barely covered her chest, exposing her voluptuous, round breasts. I envied her, though, compared to my B-cup size. But you’d do anything for a cause, even if you had to sacrifice something, like leaving my couch and the show I was binge-watching. So here was I, trying to embarrass myself before these strangers.
The ballroom was spectacularly decorated in white, gold, and black. The orchestra played classical music in the corner.
Some people might find a masquerade ball boring, but the donations could make a difference, considering that climate change was a real threat to human existence. Thinking of the greenhouse gases and ocean heat at record highs, it should be scary.
As waiters circulated with drinks and Hors d’oeuvres. I snatched a champagne flute from the waiter, sipping a little just to wet my throat. Some guests moved to the center and started dancing.
Yes, I could dance, which had been taught since I was a kid, but I tried hard to avoid mingling. I knew one or two of my people were here to support the Habitat Restoration Fund.
As I stepped back, I accidentally bumped into a huge tree that had me gasping. At least that was what I felt, but the tree, apparently, had hands and a voice, holding me on my hips.
So much for staying in the background.
My hand went to my chest as my heart hammered.
“I got you,” said the man with a deep baritone voice.
“Oh, my God.” My face heated in embarrassment, and I almost dropped the champagne. I still spilled it, though.
And I just caught everyone’s attention, the very same situation I was avoiding.
I turned around and faced him. I was wearing four-inch heels, but he was still taller. My gaze barely reached his chin.
The man’s five o’clock shadow made his jaw prominent and strong. Those full lips spread to a cocky smile that looked soft and kissable, and a perfect set of white, straight teeth like he had a regular dental appointment.
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t careful where I was going.” My accent thickened. I was nervous. Why was I even nervous?
“I’m not,” he said unapologetically. “Maybe we’re meant to be.”
“Meant to be?” I chuckled. I was too focused on my apology that he already snatched the flute from my hand and gave it to the waitstaff. Then he held my hand, placing the other on his broad shoulder.
“Dancing.”
“Dancing?” I gasped a little as I felt his huge hand on my bare back, spreading heat through me, equal parts excitement and trepidation.
“Just follow my lead.” He must have felt my hesitation, tightening his hands as I was ready to flee.
“What?” My eyes widened. I lifted my gaze, meeting his.
Damn.
That was what truly captivated me. The look in his hazel eyes was intense, as if he could see through me, peel me open, lay me bare, and I couldn’t even look away. His dark brown hair was stylishly tousled, as if he ran his fingers through it. He also smelled good, expensive cologne.
I realized I was staring as I noticed his lips quirk into a smirk. I quickly pulled myself together. There was something dangerous about this man that set every nerve ending in my body on high alert.
“And think of it as if we’re doing this for a cause.” He was already taking the lead.
“That’s why I’m here.” My voice was barely audible, but firm. And we danced as if we had practiced the steps together weeks before this event.
“Precisely. Now that we both agreed, let’s dance.” He spun me and caught me effortlessly.
I looked down and made sure I didn’t have a wardrobe malfunction because my floor-length white gown had a deep plunge V-cut, and my entire soul and dignity depended on the strings that put the fabric all together.
“You look stunning,” he said as he pressed me tightly into his chest— a hard chest, and this stranger, whoever he was, was strong and firm as if he worked out religiously. And he had a great smile. His eyes had bigger golden flecks through his gold gladiator-inspired mask.
“You haven’t even seen my face.”
“I don’t have to. You can wear a sack to this event, and you will still stand out among the rest. You have that aura that shines through you.”
“Huh. That’s first. Let me guess, you’re an expert in women, on what they want, what makes them tick, their weaknesses, and right now, because we dance, you think you already promise me something spectacular and expect me to come with you to your room upstairs to give me the best night of my life. Does that really work?”
“What?” Somehow, I saw the surprise in his eyes.
This man was obviously rich—old money. His bespoke black satin lapel tuxedo cost more than my paycheck was tailored to his body like his second skin. His hand was soft, as if he had never worked hard in his entire life. He was probably regular at attending charity events to spend money that he didn’t earn, just to make him look good in the public eye.
“Thanks for the dance.” I took advance his shock and stepped away. Without turning back, I searched for the powder room.
My heart was still pumping hard as I stared at myself in the mirror. My skin was warmed. I could still feel his touch against my skin. He was a stranger who never put in an effort to get what he wanted, but there was just something about him that was still genuine.
The door swung open. To my surprise, the stranger just walked in and locked the door.
“Hey. This is the ladies’ room.”
“I know. I promise the guy Yankees tickets. I told him to put the out of order sign for five minutes.”
“Why did you do that?” I blinked in surprise.
“I think I said something that upset you, and I’m sorry.” He held his mask, about to unveil his identity.”
“Don’t.” I shook my head repeatedly. “I don’t wanna know who you are.”
“But I want to know you.”
I laughed in silence, my body shaking. “Wow. You’re unbelievable.”
“What do you mean by that?” Through his eyes, he looked awfully hurt.
“Boy and girl from different worlds meet in a masquerade ball, fall in love, families tear them apart, and it ended tragically.” I snapped my fingers. “Ring a bell?”
“So presumptuous, but I like that.” He shrugged and said, “Oh, I get it, too. We were both young when I first saw you.” He started singing.
“What are you doing?” I tried hard to hide my smile, but he saw it.
“I’m your Romeo, but I don’t believe in our fate that we’re gonna have a tragic ending, Juliet.”
“Just get out.” I stole a glance at the door. “Please?”
“Okay, I’m going, but I wanna leave you something that hopefully will change your mind.”
“And what is it?”
“I may not know you or haven’t seen your face, but I’m looking forward to seeing you again. I really love your eyes. They remind me of my birthstone.” He took a step closer, pulled the whole glittery white flower from the corner of my mask.
“Hey.” I glared as I touched what was left.
“It’s mine now.” He breathed out. At the same time, someone knocked on the door.
“Time’s up, Romeo.”
“Yeah.” He almost sounded sad. Then he stared at me for a second before I even realized what he had just done. He grabbed the back of my head, cradled it with his big hand, and slammed his lips into my mine in a rough wet kiss.
I gasped into his demanding hot mouth. He kissed me as if he could never get enough of me. I found myself wrapping my arms around his neck, pressing my body against his as I returned the kiss with the same passion and urgency.
For a moment, we forgot we were wearing masks. He then placed his big hand on my lower back, pulling me closer, allowing me to feel what I turned down— his hard, strong body and his huge, long, and thick erection pressed against my lower belly.
We kissed like there was no tomorrow, as if the world would end in five seconds. At least that was what I felt at this moment, just us kissing, moaning, and groaning until we both ran out of breath.
MAD “Kolby,” Linden called him. The couple came, smiling. “Aren’t you everywhere?” Spade chuckled. I knew what he meant. “You were at the masquerade ball and later on, at Sawyer Porter’s party. And the next morning, your face was all over the internet.” “I wish people knew about the ball rather than the birthday party.” I stood up and shook his hand. “How’s Lex?”“Lex is great. We should catch up this weekend. I’ll allow you to win.” He smirked. Lex always won the golf.“I’ll look into my schedule.” “He’s famous,” Robyn said, hugging me. “You should try his omelet.” “Yeah. It’s the best.” Spade looked at Linden. “Make him an omelet and convince him to join the club.” “I’m planning to, without my omelet.” He smiled and kissed Robyn on the cheek. “How are you, Robyn?” “I’m good, thanks.” She took her husband’s hand. “Let’s go, babe. I think they have important matters to talk about.” “See you soon, both of you. Tell your parents I said hi.”Smiling, I nodded at him. Once the c
MAD When Nites informed me that the woman I picked to be my wife had just arrived at my penthouse, I was nervous and excited at the same time. Don’t get me wrong, I was still pissed at my father, but I wouldn’t allow him to win and take over my position, the same position he offered to me three years ago. I wasn’t perfect. I doubted if I was even a good person, but I tried my best to be a good son. In return, all I got was judgment and scrutiny from the people I didn’t know and had never met. But when there was wealth and power in you, and being Vanderford and Shanewood, apparently, everyone had their own opinion about you. The woman talking to Vysper had a soft, calming voice, as if she were used to conversing with a lot of important people. I hadn’t seen her face, yet her voice alone sounded lovely already. And awfully familiar. She was standing, and I could tell she was of average height compared to most of the women I preferred. She had long, wavy caramel hair, cascading dow
TARAI twisted and turned in bed for hours as I couldn’t shake the thought of the threat out of my head. Knowing it came from Alessia, I knew she would do it in a heartbeat. I got up from bed and sat in my kitchen in front of my laptop for two hours, trying to write an outline. Every time I put my fingers on the keys, I came up with nothing. All I could think of was my face flashing over the internet with a horrible headline and vile comments on social media.I still ended up with nothing. I finally grew tired of staring at the black page and yawned at three in the morning. I barely slept and woke up with anxiety. Here, I was back to work, trying to squeeze the idea out of my head for another commentary. As they say, easy peasy lemon squeezy. I finished it within an hour, proofread, and submitted it to my boss. But when it came to my next book, I got nothing. I didn’t even believe in writer’s block, but right now, it felt like it. I checked the time on the screen. The 24-hour ultim
MADAs I scanned the familiar faces in the conference room, landing last at my father, it took me seconds to realize that they had started the meeting without me. I checked the time on my watch. I was five minutes early. Like always, I had never been late to work or a meeting, and it suddenly concerned me. “Glad you’re here now,” my father addressed my presence formally. “Take a seat.” “Why do I feel like I’m a guest here instead of the CEO of this company?” In protest, I remained standing across from my father before the board members. “What’s going on?” “I didn’t know either,” my assistant Ali whispered. “I’m sorry, sir.” “It’s not your fault,” I assured her that her job was safe. My father’s assistant, Vanessa Dylan, placed today’s newspaper issue before me. “That’s why we’re here early,” my father said firmly, staring right into my eyes. I didn’t have to check to know that my face was on the front page and all over the internet again, like I’d been for the last two months.
TARAUgh. Not again. When my boss called my name twice, I knew I had gone overboard with my commentary. My head was still not in the game. I hated Monday, but I hate this day even more. I still had a hangover, not from alcohol, but from a kiss with a stranger. I knew it was nothing, but I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Maybe this was the effect of having a dry spell longer than any woman could bear. “Yes, Mr. Brown?” I said in an American accent as I ran towards his office door. As I got closer, I could see his nose flaring, his brown eyes narrowing at me behind his eyeglasses. “Are you kidding me?” He shoved the paper before my eyes. “You can’t write something like this and not get backlash online. If you still want this job and your co-workers will have a job tomorrow, just do what I ask you to.” “But, that’s exactly—” I stopped mid-sentence when he glared further. “What did I just say? Express Media will not see the light of day if you post something against the giant corp
TARAWhat the hell am I even doing here? I asked myself a couple of times the moment I walked inside the venue. First, this wasn’t my scene anymore. I left that life eons ago. Second, I felt too exposed even with the mask as everyone turned in my direction. Truth be told, it wasn’t my fault. Apparently, the woman behind me barely covered her chest, exposing her voluptuous, round breasts. I envied her, though, compared to my B-cup size. But you’d do anything for a cause, even if you had to sacrifice something, like leaving my couch and the show I was binge-watching. So here was I, trying to embarrass myself before these strangers. The ballroom was spectacularly decorated in white, gold, and black. The orchestra played classical music in the corner. Some people might find a masquerade ball boring, but the donations could make a difference, considering that climate change was a real threat to human existence. Thinking of the greenhouse gases and ocean heat at record highs, it should







