Page 108 of Empire State Enemies

My kink experience is limited to fuzzy handcuffs from the clearance bin at Target. But here I am, about to star in my own version of Fifty Shades of WTF.

Perching up awkwardly on some stools in our own private booth, I take a much-needed gulp of my cocktail.

Brad gently squeezes my knee in reassurance. “Let’s take it easy, all right? No rush. Sip your drink, get a vibe of this place, and see if it clicks. And hey, if you’re not feeling it, just say the word, and we’re out.”

His laid-back vibe helps ease my jitters a bit. After a few more generous swigs, I grab his hand, ready to dive in.

I’m already here, might as well go all in. If he wants to be spanked, I’ll just imagine his cute butt is Connor’s punchable face, although that’s probably against the code of conduct.

Normally, I wouldn’t even consider something this wild. But with all the drama lately, something in me snaps. I’m done with the same old grind, just scraping by. Time for a change.

My heart races as I blurt out, “Okay, fine. Let’s do it.” I take a deep breath to steady myself, but it feels like I’ve swallowed a mouthful of sand. “What exactly does this whole thing entail?”

Brad grins, thrilled that I’m on board. “We’ll start nice and easy—maybe some light spanking to warm up. Establish safe words too so we know each other’s limits. We go at your pace, Lexi. As the daddy, you’re in charge. You get to punish me when I’m naughty. And reward me when I’m obedient.” His eyes smolder as he says, “Think you can handle that role for me . . . Daddy?”

WHOA there. I try not to choke on my drink as he talks about floggers and safe words.

I eye him. “So which one are you right now? Naughty or nice?”

Tipsy me can’t tell if I’m intrigued or totally bewildered by this proposed power dynamic. But I’m not completely turned off either.

He gazes back at me through hooded eyes. “I’mdefinitelybeing very naughty right now, Daddy.” He seems dangerously turned on just saying that. Oh boy.

I shift on the plush velvet, skin flushing. “Then I guess you need to be punished? For misbehaving?” I manage to get out.

Brad grins in satisfaction and begins to remove his pants. Down come his briefs. He’s hard already. A second dick for me to see in the space of a few days. Lucky me. It may not be as impressive as Connor’s, but it’ll do the job just fine.

Brad gets on all fours, shaking with anticipation as if he’s about to present me with the holy grail of asses.

And here I go, diving into this kinky rabbit hole.

God, am I really doing this?

I stand and awkwardly grab on to Brad’s ass cheeks, trying to channel my inner spa masseuse before giving him a satisfying slap that echoes throughout the room.

“God, yes!” His moans confirm that my spanking skills are on point.

I feel like I’ve gotten to know a decent amount about Brad despite it being only our second date. He works at a hospital downtown, hails from Ohio, rides a motorbike, and his grandma is ninety-seven. Oh, and he loves chana masala.

But I definitely didn’t expect to find out the color of his asshole so soon.

I take a quick breather, unsure of what to do next. Rinse and repeat seems like a good strategy.

Each time my hand connects with his skin he moans, and I can’t help but thinkDamn, I’m really good at this. I pause for a moment, basking in my glory and wondering if there’s a medal for this kind of talent.

I continue slapping away, each one eliciting a satisfying groan from Brad. Looks like we’ll be at this for a while and he’s not complaining one bit.

“So, uh . . . are you having a good time down there?” I ask awkwardly.

Brad looks back at me, his eyes glazed over with pleasure. “Hell yeah, Daddy. You’ve got one damn strong hand.”

I feel guilty for imagining it’s Connor’s ass under my hand. I want him to feel pain. Connor, not Brad. Although Brad wants to feel pain too.

I know Connor loved the sex just as much as me. It was rough and wild, almost savage how he pounded into me. And when we came . . . it was like nothing else mattered except for that moment of pure bliss between us.

So why did he freak out afterward? Is he really that much of a one-and-done player that he couldn’t even standlookingat meafterward? He just wanted to screw me out of his system, that’s clearly what that was about.

“Am I being too rough?” I ask, trying to catch my breath. This is turning out to be a workout. Like a CrossFit class.