Seven
1302 Words
Raven
I sat at the bar, spine straight, legs crossed, and waited for the bartender to bring me my drink.
Liquid courage. That was what I needed — just enough to quiet the tremor in my hands and the riot in my chest. I was about to do something reckless. Stupid. Deliberate. Dangerous.
I was going to seduce Nico Moretti and Dominic Cruz. Both of them. Together.
The realization alone made my pulse stutter.
I didn't have a plan — not really. I turned the possibilities over in my mind like dice, trying to predict which way they'd land. Separately or together? One at a time, or both all at once? Would they even want that? Would they recognize me once they were close enough to see beyond the mask?
I suspected they would.
I looked different — stronger, sharper, softer in the ways that mattered — but my face was still my face. My eyes are still the same shade and shape. My lashes are still thick. My lips are still plush and unmistakable. Memory lived in small things.
Before the bartender returned, I pulled out my phone and checked my Dexcom app. Habit. Control. I never drank without checking first. Alcohol could send my blood sugar tumbling if I wasn't careful, especially on an empty stomach.
The number glowed reassuringly. Good..
I slipped my phone back into my clutch just as the bartender set my glass down. Red wine. Simple. Dark. I lifted it and took a small sip, savoring the bitter-sweet tang as it spread across my tongue. From the corner of my eye, I watched the crowd on the first floor.
Masks everywhere — silk, matte, bone white skills. Some faces felt familiar even through the anonymity. People I'd danced with before the change in ownership. People who'd touched me, watched me, forgotten me. The masks I'd been looking for hadn't appeared though. Not them. Not yet.
I took another sip and used the moment to steady myself, to decide how the night would unfold. Chris had been infuriatingly confident earlier — they want you, he'd said. Absolute certainty. And to his credit, he'd never been wrong before.
Their stares had burned into my skin while I danced with him, tracking every movement like they were cataloging me for later.
Chris had finally worked up the nerve to approach the man in the booth. They'd disappeared nearly half an hour ago, leaving me alone with my thoughts — and my intentions. I rotated on the bar stool, letting my gaze drift over the dance floor.
The renovations were stunning. Luxe felt different now - hungrier, sharper. The lighting was low and intentional. Shadows clinging to bodies like secrets. The music slid under my skin instead of bludgeoning my ears.
I adjusted subtly, making sure the slit in my dress revealed enough thigh, the silk hugging my curves just right. My breasts sat perfectly beneath the fabric. I resisted the urge to run to the restroom and touch up my makeup. I knew how I looked tonight. Sin on heels. I needed to let myself feel it.
That was when the air beside me shifted.
A presence - heavy, deliberate - settled close enough that my skin prickled in response. I lowered my lashes, lips curving faintly before he even spoke.
"Whiskey. Neat." The voice was dark. Rough. Commanding.
I crossed my legs slowly, deliberately, letting more skin show in the dim light. The sconces painted my tattoos in gold and shadow, turning them into a trail that climbed higher and higher, disappearing beneath the fabric only the bold would uncover.
The bartender set the glass down. Warm fingers brushed my bare shoulder. I bit back a shudder.
The contact was light —testing, but goosebumps erupted wherever his skin met mind. I leaned back slightly, sweeping my hair over the opposite shoulder, offering him more of me without ever turning around.
I could feel his stare like heat against my skin. Then.... another touch. A strand of hair lifted on my other side.
I startled despite myself. f**k. I hadn't expected both of them at once. Stupid. A low chuckle brushed my ear.
"What is a beautiful creature like you doing alone in a den full of monsters?"
The voice was velvet wrapped in steel. Calm. Dangerous. In control. Nico.
There was no doubt in my mind. Nico Moretti stood behind me, whispering into my ear, fingers threading through my hair like he already owned it. Owned me. Holy f*****g s**t.
"Who says I'm not a monster?" I countered softly. A challenge.
He laughed, the sound sending a jolt straight between my thighs.
God, I was wound too tight. I needed release and distance before I did something truly unhinged.
A body pressed closer on my right, heat and energy rolling off of him in waves. Another voice followed, playful but edged with threat.
"If you're a monster," he murmured, "What does that make us?"
Dominic.
I turned. Warm brown eyes met mine through the skull mask covering half of his face. I'd always had a thing for masks — something about anonymity sharpening desire. On him, it made him look feral. Untamed.
Warning bells rang in my head. I ignored them. I didn't stop myself from licking my lips. His gaze snapped to the movement instantly, heat flaring dark and bright in his eyes.
"My prey," I whispered.
Then I slid off the stool and walked away. I didn't look back.
The music swallowed me as I moved towards the center of the dance floor, hips already swaying to the beat. The song shifted - So Far So Fake - and I smiled to myself at the irony as I felt them watching from behind. I rolled my shoulders, let the rhythm guide me, let my body speak.
When the tempo slowed, hands found my hips. Firm. Claiming.
I leaned back without hesitation, resting against a broad chest, head tipped back. Another set of hands slid over my waist from the front, thumbs racing lazy arcs that made my breath hitch. We moved together.
Nico behind me, solid and controlled. His body a steady anchor. Dominic in front, eyes burning. Hunger written openly across his face. Heat unfurled through me, slow and relentless. We danced like we'd practiced. Like we'd done this before. No awkwardness. No missteps. Just instinct and chemistry snapping neatly into place.
"Devour me," Nico murmured into my ear, lips grazing my skin. "But don't mistake it, pretty girl. You're already under our spell."
The music shifted again — Forbidden Fruit — Piano notes dripping intimacy into the air.
"Is that so?" I asked, grinding back deliberately.
I felt his reaction immediately. His breath hitched. A low sound escaped him, barely restrained. Dominic spun me suddenly, dipping me low. One hand firm between my shoulder blades, stopping me inches from the floor. I arched into his hold, sliding my knee up his hip. He hauled me upright, our faces inches apart, breaths mingling.
His fingers brushed the edge of my mask. I twisted free.
The crowd swallowed me whole as I walked towards the stairs, hips swaying with intention. I glanced over my shoulder once, meeting both of their gazes. An invitation. A challenge. My rules.
I wasn't usually in control — but I needed to know they were strong enough to take it from me when the time came.
They followed. Of course, they did. Nico and Dominic moved with lethal confidence, people parting instinctively in their wake. Power clung to them like a second skin. Eyes followed. Whispers spread.
I placed one heel on the first step and looked back once more before climbing, daring them to come after me.
If we were going to do this, we'd do it my way.
- Writer
