Page 60 of The Contract

I ask, “Why are you so upset about this?”

“Why do you think? Somebody hurt you and you won’t tell me what happened.”

“I have several stab wounds from you, you know. Why do you care so much about this?”

“That’s different.”

“Not really.”

“So you got hit in the hit and kicked in the stomach by someone you were fucking?”

I narrow my eyes.

He shrugs, getting pissy. “Nothing in the contract prevents either of us from fucking other people.”

“It’s implied,” I grit out, not liking this conversation.

“Nothing in the contract is implied. Isn’t that the point you’ve made to me again and again? You can do anything that’s not explicitly forbidden.”

Something dark and dangerous unfurls inside me. “If I find out you’re fucking anyone else, you will not like the consequences.”

“What about you?”

I’m starting to get irritated. “I’m not fucking anyone else. Where the hell is this coming from?”

“Never mind.”

He starts to get up, but that’s not fucking happening. I wrestle him back down onto my lap—and he bites my neck. Mydick hardens the instant his teeth clamp onto me, but I can’t allow it, of course. I twist and pin him down on the couch.

“Why did you call Rafael last night?” he asks, fingers digging into my traps.

“He’s an—”

“Old friend. Sure. That’s what he said. He’s obviously more than that. Is that his piano in your penthouse? He plays. You don’t.”

Fuck, he’s smart. “Yes. It’s his.”

“Have you fucked him?”

“Not exactly.”

“What the hell does that mean? Why can’t you just say—”

“It’s none of your goddamn business, Tristan.”

“Just like whatever happened to your face is none of my goddamn business?”

“Yes. Exactly like that. What the fuck is going on here?”

I say it like it’s all his fault. I clamp my hand on his throat like he’s the one who needs to be gotten under control. And yet, I’m the one who leans down. It’s my lips that almost, almost,almostbrush his.

My heart is hammering. I have no fucking clue why I want to kiss him. I did once, on the side of his head. I couldn’t fucking believe it when I did that, but it felt good. But this is something else entirely.

His lips part. I can feel his breath against my mouth.

I press my lips to his. It’s just touch, not even a kiss. I wait for it to repulse me. I wait for nausea, anger, disgust. I don’t know why it doesn’t happen.

I take his lower lip between my teeth. He makes a little whining sound and shifts under me. His hard cock presses into my hip.

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