Exposed (The Alpha Stranger) Book 2 Read Online Free PDF

away that this is not going to be easy. After an hour, I write two songs. They are both crap. I crumple up the paper and throw it away. After two hours, it becomes apparent to me that I have made a big mistake.
     
    I’m no singer/songwriter. I played one song live at a bar to an indifferent audience and now I am ready to throw away a perfectly good job for a pipe dream. I should just slap myself back into reality and get back to work tomorrow. My lover was just trying to be nice to me. I am flattered. I appreciate it. But I am certainly not a professional music artist.
     
    Now I begin to cry. Dammit. I really want to be a musician but I just don’t have the talent. This sucks. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life answering phones and signing for packages for twelve bucks an hour. That is not going to make me happy. What does my anonymous lover see in me?! As the tears fall on my keyboard, I am resigned to the fact that I will just be another face in the crowd of people with broken dreams.
     
    Then I think of my anonymous lover. He is going to be at the club tonight. He will be listening to my music. I know he will appreciate whatever I play. So, you know what, I am going to write a song for him. He’s the only positive force in my life. And he is the only person who seems to give a fuck about me. I can’t write a great song. But I will write the best damn sing I can write for my lover with no name.
     
    I giggle at the phrase, “Lover With No Name.” I write that at the top of a blank page. Then I start writing about my experience with my anonymous lover. I write about our phone conversation. “Do you like to get spanked?” That is the first lyric of my song. Then I continue to write, “We don’t know our names, but we know our favorite places.” Oh fuck, this is starting to get fun. The more I write, the more obscene my lyrics become. I have fun coming up with delicately worded phrases to describe our sexual adventures. In half an hour, I finish writing the song.
     
    I turn on my keyboard and begin to play. I just jam. After a few minutes, I start playing the sexiest jazz piano chord that can possibly spill out of a girl’s fingers. And I just start to sing my lyrics in a breathless tone that I didn’t even know I had in me. After a while, I don’t even have to look at the words on the page, my song is forever imprinted on my subconscious mind.
     
    When the song is done, I begin to cry again. But this time it’s different. I am not crying out of despair nor am I crying out of fear. I cry out pure joy and accomplishment. For the first time, I have created something that truly makes me proud. I have written a song for my lover. And tonight, he will hear my gift to him. I hop back to my bedroom and play the song again while sitting in bed. As I play, I can see the hotel bedroom where I was stripped down and spanked. I can feel my lover’s hands on my body. This song can manifest the most perverted and beautiful sex right in front of my eyes. Forgive me, but I am getting off right now!
     
    ***
    I drive down to the Arrow Bar at 9:00 p.m. The place is about half full. My anonymous lover will be here in an hour. I talk to the bartender who says that I am welcome to play whenever I feel like it. I tell him that I’ll start my “show” in about half an hour. Right now, I just need to take a walk around the block and get myself ready.
     
    My body is so energized, I feel like I’m going into a prize fight. There is a whole part of my spirit that is opening up here. Let me put it this way, you don’t become this psyched on your first day at work as a receptionist. I could do great. I could fall flat on my face. All I know is that my life has gotten a lot more interesting and I feel so much more alive.
     
    At 9:30, I head back into the bar and make my way to the piano. There are still butterflies in my stomach but I don’t feel that huge wave of terror inside of me. The crowd is a little smaller than