CLARA
From the safety of the secluded booth, I watched the scene unfolding beyond the silk curtains with a mixture of terror and morbid fascination.
This was completely different from the world I thought I knew. Men in ornate, expensive masks leaned against the bar, their eyes tracking the movement of women who danced with a raw, uninhibited sensuality.
There was nothing formal here, no polite conversation about tax brackets or campaign promises.
There was only lust, thick and suffocating like a fog.
Tyler’s hand found the hem of my black dress. His palm was warm, his touch possessive as he ran his fingers slowly up my bare thigh. The feeling of his skin against mine made my breath hitch.
He wasn't looking at the dancers; he was looking at me, watching the way my pupils dilated
