Page 14 of The Contract

“For you or for me?”

“For us both, though it may not seem that way to you at the time.”

I frown at the contract.

“Stop chewing your lip,” he orders gruffly.

I stop. I didn’t even realize I was doing it. “Why?”

“Because it makes my dick hard, and you haven’t signed yet.”

I look at him. His lips are parted. With his complexion, color doesn’t easily show in his face, but something about the dark intensity of his eyes tells me that he’s turned on. I am too, even though it seems weird to be turned on right now. What had seemed like a very normal document is actually disturbing as shit. Somehow, my dick has failed to get that message.

Even so, I don’t think I should sign this.

I scan the rest of it. There are a couple of requirements, one about STD testing and another about … waxing? There’s a place for my signature and another for an emergency contact.

I look at the piece of paper under the contract. It’s STD testing results for Dante Adesso, age thirty-one. It’s dated today. Everything is negative.

I flip back to the contract. He’s already signed it. His signature is both elegant and assertive. I like how he writes the A in Adesso.

I look again at the “Red List.”

“Why can’t I touch you?” I ask.

“I don’t like it.”

“What if there are things that I don’t like?”

“You have your safe word.”

“Yeah, but I might not like some particular thing, but that doesn’t necessarily mean I want the—” I almost sayrelationshipbut catch myself. “—the arrangement to be over.”

He doesn’t reply. I think he’s done explaining. And I don’t actually need him to because I’m starting to get it: it won’t matter.

“I need a minute.”

I don’t wait for his response. I slide off my stool and hurry away from the bar. I head to the lounge. I don’t look back. I can’t look at him. If I do, I’ll want him. And clearly, the only way I’m going to get him is if I sign that contract.

Then what? He can do whatever he wants to me?

Entering the lounge, my gaze catches on the couch. I think about how he bent me over and touched me. He was forceful. He didn’t ask for my permission.

The trouble is, I think that’s what made me so damn hard. But do I really want that? To feel like that?

It’s a lot of money. Change your life money. It seems like I should be focused on that, but it’s kind of peripheral. I can’t imagine having that kind of money, so the idea doesn’t really sink in. And it seems pretty unimportant compared to the idea of giving someone permission to do whatever they want to me.

Fuck, I’m sweaty.

I pace around the lounge, trying to think. There’s another factor. A major one.

He knows Lorenzo Capelli. Even if they’re not exactly friends, they’re connected somehow. Dante could be a source of information. A path to my goal.

Would it be worth it?

And would I actually learn anything? Dante wouldn’t even explain what he plans to do to me, so I doubt he would yield anything on Capelli. Still. I might learn something while I’m … with him.

But shit. I’ve never been with a man before. Yeah, I’m obviously attracted to Dante, but it’s a big leap from attraction to … whatever he has in mind.

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