Free The Stranger I Know (Dark Romance) by Amy Isan Page A

would be a homework assignment I'd procrastinate on. No, that couldn't be farther from the truth.
    But at the same time, it's strange. I've worked hard to make this separate from my real life, and having the two start to intersect just for a bit of fun could end bad for me.
    I clench the vibrator in my hand as I think back to firing Stacie. Back to James shrugging my tactics off, like I was a weak nobody. I'm not.
    I slip the vibrator into my pocket and leave the hotel. The Stranger always leaves a hundred dollar bill on the dresser for the maids. God knows if they've probably had to throw away some of the bedding we've tortured.
    ***
    I keep my head hung low as I cross the lobby from the elevators to the main entrance. It's late and there's only one person manning the desk, but I still just don't want to even think about dealing with it. I've learned that if I hang my head low enough and look pissed off, they'll usually leave me alone. Looking sad didn't work the first time — it just got me hit on. That's the last thing that'd interest me after being with my Dom. Anyone else just looks like wet paper.
    I shake my head and I realize I'm in my car, driving back home. I don't recall the walk from the lobby to the garage. A hypnosis kind of, trapped in my wandering thoughts. The vibrator digs into my thigh as a reminder. Why did I cry out James' name? It must've been the dream from last night. That's the only thing I can think of.
    The last thing I'd want is for James to be towering over me, pinning me down, holding me against a couch arm. The last thing that I'd want is... his hand pulling my panties, then his cock thrusting into me. I shake my head and clench the wheel and my jaw.
    My teeth ache.
    I can't be this stressed after seeing my Dom. That isn't how this works.
    Back home, I undress and prepare for bed. I already showered, so there's little to do but climb under the covers and pass out. It's around two in the morning. Too late for me to be up with Michael on my ass about this merger. I need to get up at six and get shit figured out.
    I set the vibrator down on my nightstand, and for a blink of an eye, you could swear it never left its place back at the hotel. The lights are off and my room is barely lit by the moonlight peeking over the blinds. Pitch black to me.
    If I'm so stressed... maybe having 'homework' like this is exactly what I need. My secret life is bleeding into my real one. That'll keep me distracted. Keep me sharp.
    But, I just hope it doesn't create a lethal reaction, like gas on a wild fire.
    The mailroom. Firing Stacie. Everything. I've always played with fire. I wouldn't be where I am now if I hadn't.
    Marcy, how long did you think you could play with fire before it'd burn you to ashes?
    That's the last thought that makes sense.
    ***
    I wake up with a start and throw all my sheets to the floor. I shiver with surprise and fold my body from the cold. Why is it so fucking cold? I throw on my robe and move to the thermostat.
    It says it's set, but no heat is coming. It must be broken. More shit to deal with. I'll have to call an HVAC company when I get to work.
    I dress for a morning jog. It's earlier than I expected, and I don't feel nearly as tired as I should. It'll catch up to me if I let it.
    My breath freezes against my upturned collar and scarf. The last couple weeks have all been like this: bleached sky, empty trees and hard earth. The only sound my breathing, the cold raking my throat, and my hard foot falls on the concrete.
    I'd use my treadmill, but I need the cold energy.
    I get back inside my condo and start heating up coffee. There's little point in undressing since it's just as cold inside as it is outside. With a mug of hot steaming coffee tight between my fingers, I feel a little better.
    I sit down on a stool at my kitchen counter and stare at the clock on the microwave. It ticks over a minute. I take a deep breath and drag a sip into my mouth, almost scorching my tongue. The warmth