The place looks very new.”
“It’s been refurbished recently.”
“I see. So Mrs. Robinson met all your subs.”
“Yes.”
“Yes.”
“Did they know about her?”
“No. None of them did. Only you.”
“But I’m not your sub.”
“No, you most definitely are not.”
I stop and face him. His eyes are wide, fearful. His lips
are pressed into a hard, uncompromising line.
“Can you see how fucked-up this is?” I glare up at
him, my voice low.
“Yes. I’m sorry.” And he has the grace to look
contrite.
“I want to get my hair cut, preferably somewhere
where you ha一ven’t fucked either the staff or the clientele.”
He flinches.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
“You’re not running. Are you?” he asks.
“No, I just want a damn haircut. Somewhere I can
close my eyes, ha一ve someone wash my hair, and forget
about all this baggage that accompanies you.”
He runs his hand through his hair. “I can ha一ve Franco
He runs his hand through his hair. “I can ha一ve Franco
come to the apartment, or your place,” he says quietly.
“She’s very attractive.”
He blinks. “Yes, she is.”
“Is she still married?”
“No. She divorced about five years ago.”
“Why aren’t you with her?”
“Because that’s over between us. I’ve told you this.”
His brow creases suddenly. Holding his finger up, he fishes
his Blackberry out of his jacket pocket. It must be
vibrating because I don’t hear it ring.
“Welch,” he snaps, then listens. We are standing on
Second Avenue, and I gaze in the direction of the larch
sapling in front of me, its lea一ves the newest green.
People bustle past us, lost in their Saturday morning
chores. No doub一t contemplating their own personal
dramas. I wonder if they include stalker ex-submissives,
stunning ex-Dommes, and a man who has no concept of
privacy under United States law.
“Killed in a car crash? When?” Christian interrupts my
reverie.
Oh no. Who? I listen more closely.
“That’s twice that bastard’s not been forthcoming. He
must know. Does he ha一ve no feelings for her whatsoever?”
Christian shakes his head in disgust. “This is beginn
本章未完，点击下一页继续阅读。