AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Why were you convinced that my name was Erik with a K?”
Okay… That’s a little out of left field. But why not level with him?
“I’m doing an article on the BDSM lifestyle in Manhattan for the magazine, and I—”
“You’re what?”
“Researching an article, and—”
“Frankie, you can’t do that.”
“Why not? Everything will be anonymous.”
“I don’t want to be the subject of any article.”
“I didn’t say you would be, Hunter.”
“How can I not be?” He takes a sip of his coffee and then sets the paper cup down so harshly that some of the hot liquid spills onto the table.
“You won’t be. I won’t—”
“This part of my life is personal,” he says. “I’ve already shared too much with you. I should’ve known better.” He rises and tosses his nearly full coffee cup into a nearby trashcan. “It was nice knowing you, Frankie. Don’t bother going to the bar tonight.”
Chapter Thirty
Hunter
Now I know why Frankie was hanging around that bar. Why she was so eager to go to the club with me.
It was the plan all along.
A plan to get information for a magazine story.
I won’t be a part of it.
I keep my private life private for a reason.
I’m not ashamed of what I do at the club. I’m not ashamed of my proclivities. I never have been.
But professors have to be careful. The university would frown upon one of its tenured professors frequenting a leather club.
And yes, the confidentiality agreements provide safety, but only to a certain point—as evidenced by Frankie’s admission that she’s researching an article.
I’m angry, yes.
But more so I’m…sad.
I was feeling something for this woman. For this woman I barely know.
Something drew me to her.
I know her address, but I don’t know how to reach her.
Maybe she’ll show up at the bar.
God, I hope so, but why would she? I treated her like shit.
Maybe…
She works for Lovely magazine…which means she may have a work email that’s public.
I get to my brownstone as quickly as I can. It’s small, only one bedroom and an office, and it takes up half of the second floor of the brownstone.
I fire up my computer to find Francesca.
Doesn’t take long. Francesca Thomas, junior editor. [email protected]. Getting in touch with her is a different matter. I can email her at the magazine, but she may not get that until Monday morning.
But it’s my only shot. I’m not a stalker. I could look her up on social media, but I can’t stand social media. I have accounts on each of the big ones, but I never use them. It’s better not to, because it’s difficult when you get friend requests from your students.
I compose an email.
Frankie,
I’m sorry about today. I was so out of line, and I hope you can forgive me. You probably won’t get this until Monday, but on the off chance that you do, I’m going to be there tonight at the bar at eight o’clock. I hope you’ll be there, too. I do want to know you better.
Hunter
I considered signing it Phantom, but she knows who I am now. There’s no need to hide behind a mask.
Besides…we can still have the fantasy.
Will she show up?
I have no idea.
But I will be there. In the meantime? I’ll be reading term papers.
Fun afternoon. A day in the life of Professor Hunter Stone.
I love my job, but I also love my sex life.
Maybe this can work. Maybe I can get to know someone both in and out of the club.
Maybe…
Chapter Thirty-One
Frankie
I shower, trying to wash the memory of Hunter Stone from me, but to no avail. I exit the shower, squeaky clean, still wanting him as much as ever.
Nothing that a few hours of work can’t erase from my head. Right? I fire up the laptop to get some research done.
And—
On my work email…
Frankie,
I’m sorry about today. I was so out of line, and I hope you can forgive me. You probably won’t get this until Monday, but on the off chance that you do, I’m going to be there tonight at the bar at eight o’clock. I hope you’ll be there, too. I do want to know you better.
Hunter
I can’t help the ridiculous squishy feeling that consumes me. He’s right. He was an ass this morning, but this email is good news. I smile as I continue to work. What shall I wear this evening? I don’t have any sex clothes, and frankly, those aren’t really me anyway.
So what if I run into Penn?
Except…I’d rather not.
I could wear the blue mask again—the one that I wore to the masquerade.
If Hunter can use a mask for fantasy, so can I. Even if I am using it so Penn won’t see me if he’s there. But I’m being ridiculous. He and I were together for five years. Of course he’d recognize me. Fuck.
I’m ready by seven o’clock in the black dress and mask from Chinatown and my platform pumps. I need to go shoe shopping. I’ve already called an Uber to take me to the bar. The ride should be here in five minutes.
