Page 22 of Unbossly Manners

“Peyton Holland, I accept.”

He reached out his hand and I shook it, warmth spreading up my arm. Suddenly, this felt exactly right, like nothing could go wrong.

ten

“You need ground rules,” Kat said.

Jackson, Kat, and I sat on her bed in the loft. It was spacious with a vaulted ceiling and bright-colored bedding and decor, but I felt claustrophobic. I think I was partly out of my mind when I asked Jackson to help fix my sex problem. Being here, with Kat and him, made it all glaringly real.

Their daughter was in her bedroom downstairs with the door closed and the music blasting, which added a whole other layer of weirdness. Evie had grunted hello when I introduced myself, then went into her room.

When I got to Kat’s last night, Jackson had already called her and told her about our little agreement. I’d filled her in on how it went down, and she’d insisted we all meet at her place to map out the guidelines. It made me wonder if Kat really was as over Jackson as she said. It wasn’t typical behavior for the ex-wife to be involved in her ex-husband’s next liaison. Not that any of this was typical.

When I told Jackson this morning at the office that Kat wanted to be a witness to hashing out the rules, he’d perked up. God, I hoped I wasn’t suddenly a pawn in some weird psychological sex game between those two, but writing down a do’s-and-don’ts list was a smart idea. Last night, after we agreed to this plan, Jackson had suggested the same thing. Not the part about Kat being involved, but that he wanted to make sure I didn’t do anything I didn’t want to and that it was all written out. He was such a lawyer.

Where’s the paper?” Jackson asked brusquely. Kat raised the yellow legal pad. “And the pen.”

I handed it to Kat. Jackson had been tense since he entered the apartment. Was he having second thoughts?

“What’s the agreement going to say?” I asked, sipping whiskey from my sifter. I was getting used to Kat’s nice liquor.

“This is just like Pretty Woman.” Kat clapped.

I frowned, still finding it bizarre that she wanted to be involved in any of it.

“It’s nothing like Pretty Woman.” Jackson minutely shook his head, frowning.

Kat ignored him and poised the pen over the legal pad. “Will there be kissing? Oral sex? Anal? Let’s get to it.”

“Kissing, of course,” Jackson said, his eyes following Kat’s pen as she wrote, a gleeful twinkle in her eye. She was having the most fun of all of us.

“His dick will be in my mouth, so why not his tongue,” I quipped in an attempt to make Jackson laugh.

Kat did. Jackson did not.

“Whatever Peyton wants, I’m fine with,” Jackson said.

“Kissing and oral.” Kat wrote it down. “What about intercourse?”

A flourish of heat cascaded through my body imagining us naked, making love. If we went through with this, I was going to do some very intimate things to him and he was going to do them to me.

My eyes scanned Jackson’s body. His legs were toned, his thigh muscles straining against his tight slacks. His navy blue t-shirt was tucked into his pants and the material sat flush against his flat stomach. There was probably a six-pack underneath. Sinewy veins mapped his forearm and spread over his well-formed biceps. His jaw was strong, his face angular, his blue eyes sharp. His bottom lip was slightly thicker than his top. Very soon I’d be kissing those lips.

“Did you hear me, Peyton?” Kat waved the legal pad in front of my face.

“Huh? What did you say?”

“While you were checking out the merchandise, I was asking about a time limit.”

I cringed.

“Sorry,” I said to Jackson.

“I love being objectified,” he deadpanned.

“Anyway. Do you want a time limit?” Kat asked.

“I don’t know? Do we?” I asked, clicking the tips of my nails.

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