This wasn't safe.

She was being completely impractical and that was so unlike her.

Bonnie didn't even know his real name and calling him Fetish 101 just seemed ridiculous. She was new to the scene granted but this seemed rather dangerous. Sure, the man was insanely good looking, like Ryan Gosling good looking, like that shy guy from Felicity good looking but that wasn't enough. She was pretty sure that Ted Bundy and the rest had been pretty good looking too.

"Elizabeth, get in the car" he ordered, his gaze sliding down over the swell of her breasts to her slim hips before gliding back up to her glittering eyes. Bonnie's mouth tightened, her eyes darting from fetish 101 to the black town car and the waiting chauffer. She scoffed at her own pseudonym. She'd picked the name Elizabeth McGraw on a whim after signing up on the site and it seemed fitting for a site dealing with casual sexual encounters.

With outstretched hands, he moved closer to her and asked, "Are you scared?"

"No" she replied, trying to keep the quiver out of her voice. Clenching her eyes shut, Bonnie felt his hands move to rest on her shoulders. They felt warm, heavy as his thumb traced a throbbing vein on her neck. She sucked in a breath when his hands quested to the nape of her neck, fingers sliding into her hair. Suddenly Manhattan was too hot, too stifling with his belching summer heat.

"Maybe" she finally confessed, eyes sliding open to track his pulsing jaw muscle. He was so close she could smell him, so close that his heart seemed to beat inside her own chest.

"Just think of it as a sexual odyssey" he breathed against her neck, his heat tickling the shell of her ear. With a shaky gasp as if she suddenly sensed the concrete ground beneath her feet, Bonnie placed her palms against his chest and gave a gentle push. Her eyes drifted back to the waiting car and she gave a slight nod.

"Can I call you something else besides fetish 101?" Bonnie asked once they were inside the car, her clammy hands gripping her sparkly clutch. She heard him snort and feign a chuckle before he lowered his head, leaning closer to her again.

"John Gray, since we're quoting the movie Nine and a half weeks" he murmured, his voice working her neck like molten fingers. Her lips tweaked into a half smile, she was enjoying his sense of humor.

But she still wasn't satisfied, "What're you going to do to me?" she pressed on, her eyes fixed on the review mirror even though she could feel his thigh pressed against hers.

"No spoilers, Liz" he purred, sending another shiver through her body.

..

"Take off your shoes?" Came the instruction the minute they ventured inside his sprawling apartment with its eighteen foot high ceilings and polished hardwood floors. Bonnie's eyes rushed from his minimalistic leather furniture to the panoramic views of the Hudson River.

"My shoes?" her eyes widened, fleeting to his bare feet.

"Yes. You can put them back on when we're fucking" he flung the sentence over his shoulder as he proceeded toward the long Maplewood bar. Bonnie took a deep breath and slipped off her stilettos. The floorboards were warm under the pads of her feet as she strolled to the bar. She settled on one of the leather barstools lining the bar and casually slipped off her scarf as he set two martini glasses in front of her.

"You have a beautiful home" she complemented, scanning a pair of antique Buddha statues with curios eyes.

"All the better to fuck you in, Liz" he curled his accent around the words and she wasn't sure whether to blush or take offence to his vulgarity. He didn't bother to look up at her as he said this but when he finished assembling her cocktail his eyes swung up to stare at her.

"A dirty martini for a very dirty girl scout" he smiled, sliding the drink toward her.

"Thank you" she smiled and took a slow sip.

"Have I told you how scrumptious you look?"

"Thank you"

"Stop being so polite, Liz" he exhaled, running a hand down his white dress shirt before unbuttoning the first three buttons. The fake name was starting to annoy her. She wanted her name on his lips, wanted him to caress the vowels like his tongue caressed his dirty martini.

"Ok" Bonnie replied as she drained her drink. She wasn't exactly sure what was wrong with her, maybe she was malfunctioning because she wasn't acting like her usual self. There was no banter with this guy, none of her usual smart comebacks. She was like a dud, a dead slug with no personality and she couldn't understand why. Plucking an olive from her empty glass, she watched as he walked to his elegant entertainment center.

"You like Nina Simone?" he asked, holding up a record.

"I'm familiar with her" she shrugged, eyes gliding over his broad shoulders and down his back.

"I saw a show of hers in Italy once with my mother. She was crazy about Miss Simone"

"Yeah" her throat was feeling tight again but her head was swimming. She had the right measure of intoxication, she thought as she swung her feet off the barstool. Bonnie ducked behind the bar as Nina Simone's soothing voice filled the apartment.

"Refill?" he raised an eyebrow as he sauntered back toward her. She could feel the heat emanating from his crisp white shirt and his tousled muddy blond hair.

"You judging?" she bit her lip, slipping a lock of hair behind her ear.

"Never" he fixed his eyes on her, "The drunker you are…"

"The filthier I get?" she suggested, lifting up a bottle of London gin.

"What is this, dirty mad libs?"

"There's an idea!" she chuckled, knocking back a shot.

"I'm a verb, Liz. I don't talk, I do" he drawled, eyes digging into hers making her swallow.

"But you keep teasing?" Bonnie leaned over the wooden counter, running her tongue over her teeth.

"I keep teasing?" his whiskey-colored eyes narrowed as he inched closer toward her.

"You should start practicing what you preach" she dragged her tongue along her bottom lip, tasting the olive brine from her cocktail.

"Now we're talking, "he chuckled, "Carpe Noctem!" he murmured, his nose grazing hers as his heated breath fanned her cheek.

..