My YEAR of living DANGEROUSLY
‘I went through a second adolescence, one in which I became a kind of heat-seeking missile for the exact opposite of what I’d had before: intensity, breaking taboos.‚
I am alone in a hotel room.
I am pacing, barefoot, adjusting my tootight black minidress.
In a few minutes, a man is going to arrive. A very tall, very muscular Italian man covered from head to toe in tattoos.
And we are going to… Well, actually, in that tense, charged, excited-scared-wild moment, my imagination has short-circuited. I know what we’ve discussed, but somehow my brain can’t quite comprehend what is actually about to happen.
We’re going to f**k, that much is certain, but this isn’t really about that, per se.
No. This is no ordinary rendezvous between lovers… This is about two humans who are not romantically involved in the conventional sense agreeing to play out each other’s fantasies of submission and domination.
There’s a knock at the door. My heart jumps into my throat; my pulse is racing. I open it. He fills the doorway, ducking to step inside. Less than a second later, the door is closed and our tongues are entwined, my legs wrapped around his waist, his hands on me, carrying me, in
