Page 36 of The Naughty Professor
When Sean had called and insisted I join him, I hadn’t had an excuse.Plus, there was always hope that maybe I’d meet someone new, though that never, ever happened.Joan had cancelled our dinner.Claimed she wasn’t feeling well.Her message had popped up on my phone, and I’d felt a sharp, guilty relief.No boring dinner at Stella’s.No pretending through another stiff, exhausting meal.I was free.
Free and bored.
I took another sip of the drink and scanned the crowd, wondering how long I needed to stay before I could slip out without being rude.
That was when I saw her.
At first I thought I was imagining things, because it made no sense.Joan Stanwyk didn’t belong here.She was fine dining and opera tickets, silk scarves and disdain for anything less than “cultured.”Joan didn’t do dive bars, and she sure as hell didn’t do gay bars.
But there she was.
And she looked…different.Her hair was styled the same, her makeup sharp, but she was wearing a black mini-skirt and a top that looked like it belonged to someone half her age.For a second, my brain short-circuited.Joan, in a skirt that short?When had that ever happened?
She saw me at the same time I saw her.Her eyes widened, and then she came striding across the room, weaving between tables and men with the same imperious air she used to command her students and faculty.
“What in God’s name are you doing here?”She demanded as soon as she was within earshot.
I blinked at her, stunned not only by the sight of her outfit but by the sheer hypocrisy of the question.“I could ask you the same.”
Her nose wrinkled as if the whole place offended her.“This is a gay bar.”
“Yes, Joan.”My voice was sharper than I had intended, but I didn’t care.“It is.Which is exactly why I’m here.”
She looked at me as if I’d slapped her.“You don’t belong in a place like this.”
My jaw clenched.Years of her needling, her subtle digs, her endless attempts to reshape me into someone else—all of it boiled up at once.
“You cancelled on me tonight,” I said.My voice was calm, but every word landed like a blow.“Remember?Dinner at Stella’s?You said you weren’t feeling well.And now here you are, dressed like—” I broke off before I said something cruel, but the words still burned on my tongue.“So tell me, Joan, what the hell are you doing here?”
Her cheeks flushed, but she didn’t back down.“I don’t need to explain myself to you.”
That was it.Something inside me snapped.
“No,” I said, leaning forward, heat rushing into my face.“You don’t.But I’m done explaining myself to you.I’m gay, Joan.I’ve always been gay.And I am not sitting through another minute of your disapproval, your manipulation, or your endless little crusade to make me into something I’m not.”
Her mouth opened, but I cut her off, the anger that had been simmering for years finally spilling over.
“You want to know what I’m doing here?I’m existing.I’m trying to find a piece of myself you’ve spent years trying to stamp out.So why don’t you take your judgment, and your lies, and your delusions, and fuck the hell off.”
Her face went white, then red, then tightened with fury.
“You ungrateful—” she hissed, but the rest was lost as the lights dimmed, the music cut, and the crowd erupted in cheers.
A spotlight snapped onto the stage.
A broad, muscular man stepped into the glow, shirtless, skin gleaming under the lights.His voice boomed over the microphone, confident and commanding.“Gentlemen, are you ready?”
The crowd roared.
“Then give it up,” he continued, his grin wicked, “for the hottest man ever to set foot on this stage.The one, the only—JAX!”
The lights cut out, and the crowd screamed.
Then the spotlight snapped on, and a man strutted into the beam of light like he owned it — sleek, sexy, and wearing a glittery red thong that looked illegal in several states.The thing didn’t so much conceal him as glorify him, a shimmering scrap of fabric that caught the light every time he moved.It clung to his package in a way that defied gravity, his thighs gleaming with a fine sheen of oil, his every muscle alive under the lights.
The audience went bonkers.
Money flew.Men howled.Someone beside me actually clutched his chest like he’d seen God.
