The man doesn’t say anything, just stares at me, his amber-flecked brown eyes warm and curious behind his mask. His hands are still resting lightly on my bare arms, and his touch makes something crackle through me, like electricity finding a long-forgotten path.

“Uh, yeah, that makes two of us,” he finally says, his voice a deep rumble that seems to reverberate directly through the connection points between us. Now that I’m not at risk of falling on my face, I notice just how handsome he is. He’s almost a foot taller than me, with broad shoulders and a head of dark, wavy hair.

“Really?” I bite my bottom lip nervously, dragging it between my teeth. “It’s kind of nice to know I’m not the only one. I’ve always wanted to explore kink, but this is the first time I’ve worked up the nerve. I figured there’s no better first time than when everyone’s wearing a mask and won’t remember you, right?”

I laugh softly, lifting one shoulder in a self-conscious shrug. The way he’s looking at me makes my pulse skip like a stone skimming across water, but I can’t seem to stop talking.

“I wasn’t sure what to wear either,” I add, shaking my head ruefully. “I probably tried on seven different things before I picked this dress, and I’m still not sure it’s the right choice. I wish there was some kind of step-by-step guide for this sort of thing—although actually, there probably is, somewhere. I just don’t know where to find it. And I—” I break off, wincing as I realize I’m rambling. “Oh god. I’m babbling, aren’t I? Sorry. I’m a little nervous.”

“You shouldn’t be,” he tells me, his voice deeper, more confident now. “You look beautiful.”

A flush creeps up my cheeks, disappearing beneath the mask, and I duck my head almost shyly, not used to such direct compliments from gorgeous strangers. “Thank you.”

I look up at him again, and for a moment, our gazes lock. Neither of us speaks. I’m acutely aware that his hands are still wrapped lightly around my upper arms. Combined with the soft moans and sighs echoing around us, I’m viscerally reminded of exactly where we are and what this place is for.

“Did you come here with someone?” I ask in a low voice, a little surprised at my own boldness.

“No,” he shakes his head quickly, still holding my gaze. “Did you?”

“No.” My tongue darts out to wet my lips, my mouth suddenly dry. “Would you like to get a drink or something? Or—” I frown, remembering his earlier change of direction and suddenly worried I’ve misread the situation. “I’m sorry. Were you leaving?”