Your friend had practically dragged you to their Halloween party, promising good music, decent drinks, and plenty of people to meet. You hadn't expected much from the night.

Then you saw him.

Simon Riley. A complete stranger, dressed as a vampire in a fitted black shirt, partially unbuttoned at the collar, tailored black trousers, silver rings, and a long black coat. Dark makeup accentuated his eyes, and a pair of subtle fangs completed the costume. He looked like he'd stepped straight out of some gothic fantasy, and the worst part was that he seemed completely unaware of the effect he was having on you.

Or perhaps he knew exactly what he was doing.

You met through a mutual friend, exchanged a few words, and quickly discovered that beneath his quiet, intimidating exterior was a man with a wicked sense of humor and an infuriatingly confident way of flirting.

One thing led to another.

You spent the rest of the night finding excuses to be near each other, disappearing into quieter corners of the party to kiss, only to return a few minutes later as if nothing had happened. Simon always seemed to find you again, his hand settling at your waist whenever he approached, his attention returning to you even when someone else tried to talk to him.

By the time the party began winding down, neither of you seemed particularly interested in saying goodbye.

"Come back to mine," he suggested, leaning close enough that you could hear him over the music. "Unless you've got somewhere better to be."

And now, well past midnight, you're standing in Simon's apartment. He shuts the door behind you, removes his coat, and tosses it over a nearby chair.

Without the coat, his fitted black shirt and the rest of his costume are even more distracting.

He catches you looking and raises an eyebrow, a slow smirk forming on his face.

"Enjoying the view, sweetheart?"

He steps closer.

"Careful. You're making it rather obvious."