Chapter One

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Xavier

I adjusted the mask covering my face while trembles of anxiety spiked through my body. Sequestered in the back entrance of a high-rise apartment building, I felt entirely out of my comfort zone and more than ready to flee back to my cozy, familiar house.

"Ready to get spanked?" Georgia asked, cocking up the corner of her mouth in a grin.

"Please don't say that out here," I whispered. "Anyone could hear you."

Georgia smoothed down the front of her tailored suit. With a sophisticated half-mask perched over her eyes and her hair up in an intricate bun, she looked powerful and confident.

"Time to let go of that anxiety," she said, clasping my shoulder. "The party is here."

The elevator dinged, and we stepped inside the mirrored box. Georgia punched in the code we had been given to access the penthouse, and a soft blue light came on. My stomach sank into my gut as the elevator shot toward the sky. "Are you sure this is the right look?" I asked, fidgeting with my mask.

Georgia leaned against the mirrored wall, crossing her arms. "It's sparkly enough to match your personality, but not too sparkly. It covers your face, so no one will be able to recognize you. Not to mention the velvety fabric has a delicious pink blush. I'd say it's the perfect look to announce your desires."

I dropped my voice low, pretending to disguise it. "You mean the kinky desires of a mysterious stranger."

Georgia replied with a laugh. "I mean the submissive desires of a bubbly bottom."

"Same difference. I just don't know if a royal blue mask goes with this particular teal dress shirt."

"I'm still surprised you actually wore black pants, although I guess it's what's underneath them that really matters."

I stuck my hands in the pockets of my trousers. "At least with a mask on, people won't just comment all night on how young I look," I groused.

The elevator slowed to a stop and dinged, and the doors slid slowly open. Clasping my clammy hands by my side, I stepped into the sophisticated, minimal lobby. The clean lines of the architecture were broken up with a few large, sculpture-like vases, and a man in a nondescript gray suit stood by a giant pair of wooden doors.

"If I embarrass myself, I'll never forgive you for dragging me here," I muttered to Georgia under my breath.

"When you literally have your fantasies come true in about an hour, don't forget who you owe," she replied. Stepping forward to the man at the door, Georgia swooped a few hairs behind her ear, restoring her style to its perfection. "Georgia Demir and one guest. We're here for Mr. Amos's party."

The man nodded as though he knew us. "And I believe neither of you have been before. Is that correct?"

"Yes, that's right," Georgia answered.

The man held out a large plastic bag. "Phones in here, please. Someone will greet you shortly inside and offer you a drink. Do enjoy your evening."

I pulled my phone out and shoved it in the bag, kissing goodbye to my last connection to the outside world. The man held the door for us, and with a gulp of air, I stepped inside.

My eyes adjusted slowly to the dimly lit room, and I made out the sleek, contemporary interior. It was like being inside a photo shoot from an architectural magazine. The place was so immaculate and styled, you would swear no one actually lived there. Blood rushed to my cheeks when a handsome, muscular man passed by wearing nothing but a pair of tight, black boxer-briefs, hugging his peach-shaped butt and leaving nothing of his cock to the imagination.

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