The CEO’s Masked Secret Wife

Chapter 2 - A Reckless Encounter

Hazel's POV

"No way, Hazel. I didn't spend three hours making you look like a goddess just so you could hide in my apartment." Chloe grabbed my shoulders firmly. "Tonight, you're not going to be the responsible, practical Hazel who always follows the rules. Tonight, you're going to live a little."

I stared at my reflection one more time, hardly recognizing myself behind the golden mask. My bright green eyes shimmered with nervousness, but also something else—anticipation.

"What if someone recognizes me?" I whispered.

Noah chuckled from the doorway. "That's the point of a masquerade, Hazel. No one knows who anyone is."

"Exactly," Chloe nodded triumphantly. "For one night, you can be whoever you want to be. No ex-boyfriend, no backstabbing cousin, no disappointed parents. Just you, having fun for once in your life."

Her words hit home. When was the last time I'd actually had fun? Before catching Ethan and Jessica together, probably.

"Fine," I conceded, taking a deep breath. "One night of freedom."

The Sterling Masquerade Ball was nothing like I'd imagined. The grand ballroom glittered with crystal chandeliers, while masked figures in suits and gowns mingled like characters from a fairy tale. Classical music flowed from a live orchestra, and champagne flowed even more freely.

"Wow," I breathed, clutching my small clutch nervously. "This is..."

"Spectacular?" Chloe supplied, already scanning the room like a general surveying a battlefield. "And full of eligible bachelors. Come on."

She dragged me toward the bar, Noah following with an amused smile. After ordering champagne for us, Chloe turned to me with determination in her eyes.

"Drink up," she instructed. "Liquid courage."

I sipped the bubbly drink, feeling it fizz down my throat. "I don't think I'm cut out for this, Chl."

"Nonsense. You just need to relax." She squeezed my hand. "Look around. Everyone here is playing a character tonight. Why shouldn't you?"

As the champagne warmed my veins, I felt my anxiety slowly melting. Chloe was right. For once in my life, I could be someone else—someone confident and carefree.

An hour and two champagne flutes later, I was actually enjoying myself. Noah had swept Chloe onto the dance floor, leaving me people-watching from a quiet corner. The masks transformed everyone into mysterious characters from some elaborate play.

"You look far too beautiful to be standing alone."

The deep voice startled me. I turned to find a tall figure standing beside me, his face partially concealed by a sleek black mask. But what the mask didn't hide took my breath away—full lips curved into a confident smile, a strong jawline, and the most unusual, striking violet-blue eyes I'd ever seen.

"I... thank you," I managed, cursing my sudden inability to form coherent sentences.

"Dance with me." It wasn't a question, but there was something playful in his tone that made my heart race.

Before I could overthink it, I nodded. His hand found the small of my back, sending electricity through my body as he guided me to the dance floor. His touch was firm but gentle, confident without being presumptuous.

"I haven't seen you at one of these events before," he said, his voice like velvet as he pulled me closer. "I would have remembered."

I smiled behind my mask. "How could you possibly know? Everyone's wearing masks."

"Some people are impossible to forget, masked or not." His eyes—those incredible eyes—roamed my face with undisguised appreciation.

The champagne in my system made me bold. "Are you always this forward with strangers?"

"Only the exceptionally beautiful ones." His hand tightened slightly on my waist. "And only when they look at me the way you're looking at me right now."

Heat flooded my cheeks. Was I that transparent? Something about this man was magnetic, drawing me in despite my usual caution. Maybe it was the anonymity of the masks, or maybe it was just him.

"And how exactly am I looking at you?" I challenged.

His lips brushed my ear as he whispered, "Like you're wondering what it would be like to kiss me."

My breath caught. The music swelled around us, but all I could focus on was the warmth of his body against mine, the intoxicating scent of his cologne, and those eyes that seemed to see right through my mask and into my soul.

"Maybe I am," I admitted, surprising myself with my honesty.

His smile widened, revealing perfect white teeth. Without another word, he took my hand and led me away from the dance floor, through the crowd, and toward a dimly lit hallway.

My heart hammered against my ribs. This wasn't me—I didn't follow strangers into dark corners. And yet, I couldn't make myself stop. For once in my life, I wanted to be reckless.

The moment we were alone, he pressed me gently against the wall, one hand cupping my face while the other rested on my hip. "Tell me to stop," he murmured, his face inches from mine.

"Don't stop," I whispered instead.

His lips crashed into mine with a hunger that matched my own. The kiss was nothing like I'd experienced before—demanding yet tender, passionate yet controlled. I melted against him, my hands gripping his shoulders as if I might float away without his anchoring presence.

"God, you're incredible," he groaned against my mouth, his hands sliding down to grip my thighs through the silky fabric of my dress.

I gasped as he lifted me slightly, pressing his body more firmly against mine. "We shouldn't—" I started, but the protest died as his lips found my neck.

"We absolutely should," he countered, his voice rough with desire. "Unless you want me to stop?"

I knew I should say yes. This was madness—a stranger in a hallway at a masquerade ball. But the heat building between us was undeniable, and for once, I didn't want to be sensible Hazel.

"Don't you dare stop," I breathed.

His hands were everywhere then, exploring my body with an expertise that left me gasping. When he slipped under the hem of my dress, I didn't protest. When he pushed aside the thin fabric of my underwear, I only urged him on with breathy moans.

"I need you," he growled, his fingers working magic that had me clutching desperately at his shoulders. "Right now."

"Yes," was all I could manage.

What followed was a blur of sensations—his hands lifting me higher, my legs wrapping around his waist, the sound of his zipper, and then the exquisite feeling of him pushing inside me. The angle was perfect, the pressure divine. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure through my body until I was biting my lip to keep from crying out.

"Let go," he commanded softly, his rhythm intensifying. "I want to hear you."

I did as he asked, letting the quiet hallway fill with my breathless moans as he drove me toward a shattering climax. He followed moments later, his face buried in my neck as he shuddered against me.

For several heartbeats, we stayed locked together, our ragged breathing the only sound. Reality slowly began to seep back in, and with it came the first flickers of embarrassment. What had I done?

Before I could spiral into regret, he gently set me down, straightening my dress with tender care. "That was..." he trailed off, seemingly at a loss for words.

"Unexpected," I supplied, smoothing down my hair.

He laughed—a rich, warm sound that eased some of my anxiety. "Spectacular was the word I was looking for."

Just as he leaned in to kiss me again, a phone rang. He cursed under his breath, pulling a sleek device from his pocket. His expression changed instantly as he checked the screen.

"I have to take this," he said, already stepping back. "Wait here. I'll be right back."

Before I could respond, he was striding away, phone pressed to his ear. I leaned against the wall, feeling simultaneously elated and foolish. What had gotten into me? This wasn't who I was.

After ten minutes of waiting, it became clear he wasn't coming back. Humiliation washed over me. Of course he'd left—he'd gotten what he wanted from the naive girl at the masquerade.

I made my way back to the ballroom, scanning the crowd for any sign of him or Chloe. Finding neither, I texted Chloe that I was ready to leave.

"You did WHAT?" Chloe shrieked as we sat in her living room later that night, Noah having tactfully retreated to the bedroom.

"Keep your voice down," I hissed, though we were alone. "It was stupid, I know."

"Stupid? It's brilliant!" She clapped her hands together. "My little Hazel, having hot masked sex at a fancy ball. I'm so proud!"

I groaned, burying my face in my hands. "Don't be proud. Be horrified. I don't even know his name."

"That's the best part," Chloe insisted. "It's like something out of a romance novel. The mysterious stranger with the unusual eyes who rocks your world and disappears into the night."

Despite my embarrassment, I couldn't help smiling. "His eyes were incredible. This weird violet-blue color I've never seen before."

"And how was the sex?" Chloe leaned forward eagerly. "Don't skimp on details."

My cheeks burned, but I couldn't deny the lingering pleasure. "It was amazing. Like nothing I've ever experienced. He was so... confident. Like he knew exactly what I needed."

"Well, he clearly knew what he was doing," Chloe giggled. "I knew this ball was exactly what you needed to get over Ethan."

"I guess you were right," I admitted. "For the first time in months, I didn't think about Ethan once."

"See? Best therapy ever!" Chloe raised her wine glass. "To masked strangers and new beginnings!"

I clinked my glass against hers, feeling lighter than I had in months. Maybe this reckless night was exactly what I'd needed to finally move on.

"So," Chloe said casually, "did you guys at least use protection?"

The glass nearly slipped from my fingers as cold realization washed over me. In the heat of the moment, protection hadn't crossed either of our minds.

"Oh my God," I whispered, panic clawing at my throat. "We didn't."