Chapter One
The invitation was an alluring one.
Cass Armstrong logged on to her laptop and launched her email and instant message programs, and there it was in her inbox. An advertisement for the Hunter’s Moon Ball, sent by her online chat buddy, “TaxMan4U”, aka Darien. A suggestion they meet in person?
She’d heard of this happening with online dating services, of course, but that wasn’t what she’d signed up for when she’d gone looking for someone like Darien one late and lonely night. Cass hadn’t been searching for in-person companionship at that point, nor was she interested in using video chat programs—she preferred a measure of anonymity.
Given the hours she put in at the accounting firm where she worked, she didn’t have much free time to date or get overly involved with someone. Nor did she excel in social environments, so the web had appealed to her. Others at her firm had casually mentioned chat rooms over the years and it had taken that long for Cass to gather the nerve to seek one out herself.
The first few interactions online had been overwhelming, what with trying to find a chat room of interest—she’d inevitably selected one for single professionals in Seattle—and then seeing dozens of people with unique usernames all posting comments almost simultaneously. She’d invested quite a bit of effort into learning how to scroll and reply and connect with others out there in cyberspace. Then she’d started communicating regularly with Darien, given their common interest in tax law, and that had led to a request to join him in a private chat room, which had quickly led to, well, cybersex. Which they mostly enjoyed via IM these days.
She’d been shocked, yet titillated, when his casual flirting had turned enticingly lascivious. Cass had never considered herself the type to motivate someone to ping her with an “I want to suck your nipples” kind of message. Then again, one could be sexy and daring when using this particular medium, and she’d let her wild side come out to play, despite it not being her standard demeanor in real life.
That first comment of Darien’s had initially taken her aback. Cass had stared at her laptop screen with a scowl on her face, unsure as to what to do—shut down her computer or…respond. She’d ultimately chosen the latter, the sexually deprived in desperate need of stimulation. Not surprisingly, she’d found it much easier to communicate over the net than in person, and that had spurred her on.
She was a bit ashamed of her wanton online behavior and would never in a million years discuss it with anyone, but it’d become addictive. And Lord how her exchanges with Darien had spiced up her otherwise humdrum existence! So, regardless of how tawdry it seemed by the light of day, she logged on three nights a week to “get it on” with a man she’d never met in person.
Yet now he was hinting at taking their online relationship offline?
Apprehension gripped her at the mere thought of how badly she could botch this good thing she had going. Conversely, as she read the ad for Seattle’s notorious ball, a scintillating thrill shimmied down her spine. She contemplated the hedonistic costume party she’d never dared attend. Truth be told, she’d never considered herself cool enough to even attempt to land a coveted invitation to the underground, though highly speculated about, rave.
“I could do this,” she whispered as excitement raced through her, chasing away her previous anxiety. “I could be the person I’ve been online. For one night, at least.”
While Cass considered what it’d take to pull off this monumental feat, an IM from Darien popped up, asking her what she was wearing. It had been a long day and Cass was mentally exhausted, but charged by the unexpected turn of events with the Hunter’s Moon Ball ad. Her body hummed like a livewire at the prospect of what might lie ahead with Darien in the future, and most definitely over what
The invitation was an alluring one.
Cass Armstrong logged on to her laptop and launched her email and instant message programs, and there it was in her inbox. An advertisement for the Hunter’s Moon Ball, sent by her online chat buddy, “TaxMan4U”, aka Darien. A suggestion they meet in person?
She’d heard of this happening with online dating services, of course, but that wasn’t what she’d signed up for when she’d gone looking for someone like Darien one late and lonely night. Cass hadn’t been searching for in-person companionship at that point, nor was she interested in using video chat programs—she preferred a measure of anonymity.
Given the hours she put in at the accounting firm where she worked, she didn’t have much free time to date or get overly involved with someone. Nor did she excel in social environments, so the web had appealed to her. Others at her firm had casually mentioned chat rooms over the years and it had taken that long for Cass to gather the nerve to seek one out herself.
The first few interactions online had been overwhelming, what with trying to find a chat room of interest—she’d inevitably selected one for single professionals in Seattle—and then seeing dozens of people with unique usernames all posting comments almost simultaneously. She’d invested quite a bit of effort into learning how to scroll and reply and connect with others out there in cyberspace. Then she’d started communicating regularly with Darien, given their common interest in tax law, and that had led to a request to join him in a private chat room, which had quickly led to, well, cybersex. Which they mostly enjoyed via IM these days.
She’d been shocked, yet titillated, when his casual flirting had turned enticingly lascivious. Cass had never considered herself the type to motivate someone to ping her with an “I want to suck your nipples” kind of message. Then again, one could be sexy and daring when using this particular medium, and she’d let her wild side come out to play, despite it not being her standard demeanor in real life.
That first comment of Darien’s had initially taken her aback. Cass had stared at her laptop screen with a scowl on her face, unsure as to what to do—shut down her computer or…respond. She’d ultimately chosen the latter, the sexually deprived in desperate need of stimulation. Not surprisingly, she’d found it much easier to communicate over the net than in person, and that had spurred her on.
She was a bit ashamed of her wanton online behavior and would never in a million years discuss it with anyone, but it’d become addictive. And Lord how her exchanges with Darien had spiced up her otherwise humdrum existence! So, regardless of how tawdry it seemed by the light of day, she logged on three nights a week to “get it on” with a man she’d never met in person.
Yet now he was hinting at taking their online relationship offline?
Apprehension gripped her at the mere thought of how badly she could botch this good thing she had going. Conversely, as she read the ad for Seattle’s notorious ball, a scintillating thrill shimmied down her spine. She contemplated the hedonistic costume party she’d never dared attend. Truth be told, she’d never considered herself cool enough to even attempt to land a coveted invitation to the underground, though highly speculated about, rave.
“I could do this,” she whispered as excitement raced through her, chasing away her previous anxiety. “I could be the person I’ve been online. For one night, at least.”
While Cass considered what it’d take to pull off this monumental feat, an IM from Darien popped up, asking her what she was wearing. It had been a long day and Cass was mentally exhausted, but charged by the unexpected turn of events with the Hunter’s Moon Ball ad. Her body hummed like a livewire at the prospect of what might lie ahead with Darien in the future, and most definitely over what
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