Page 208 of If Our Hearts Collide

I’m not the hand-holding type.

But can I stomach the idea of someone else doing the job?

No. Definitely not.

There’s no part of me that wants Penny to explore her sexual awakening with anyone else—that much is clear. While I don’t know details about her past, I can tell she doesn’t have very many amazing experiences to pull from and is probably searching for someone to fill that void.

I hate myself for how easy she makes me lose touch with reality. She is a temptress, trying to get me to give in to this notion that she thinks she wants.

Penny doesn’t know what she wants.

She wants to test the waters and explore, and I’m not sure I can give her those experiences without taking more from her than she is prepared to give. Another perk of having sexual contracts with my partners is that there are no misunderstandings and that when the contract ends, so do the expectations for more.

I don’t domore.

I do what is mutually agreed upon and nothing extra. There is no bonding and definitely nothing romantic about the arrangement. There are no dates and no dinners. No one texts except to confirm meetups here. All signatures on the contract consent to a sexual union only.

Having the finality of ending relationships is the driving force behind the appeal of us both signing on the dotted line. Not to mention the nondisclosure aspect that keeps my personal life free from my professional life.

On the other hand, if Penny and I were to have that type of arrangement, everything would get murky. How could it not? Penny would then be part of both lives, and the separation once the line is crossed would be impossible to fulfill.

I’m her bodyguard…

And I don’t want to die via the wrath of her brothers…

I stare at Penny as her hands reach behind her and start undoing the tie of her halter top.

Shit.

Why is she doing that? It’s as if she has no idea what she does to me—and yet is calculated in her moves. Baiting me. Luring me in to her with my weakening self-control.

She is chiseling away at me, and there’s no way possible that she doesn’t realize her effect on me.

I look up at the viewing booth we happened to stop next to and notice that the sign suggests that the test for pushing boundaries is clothes. No wonder Penny is trying to remove her top. She is testing more limits than just her own. She is testing mine.

Slowly, she is pushing back the boundaries, stretching them to blur the lines between going too far and not going far enough.

If I don’t help her with her fantasies, I run the risk of her finding some sleazeball who simply wants an easy thrill. If I do comply, then I basically go against the code I live by—the one I tell myself separates me from the assholes in this world.

But can I give up on the girl who is making a home for herself inside my heart?

“Penny…”

Turning around, she points to the back of her neck where her fingers are struggling. “Can you help me with my knot, please?”

“What? No. Fuck. Penny, you aren’t going to take off all your clothes at some club for everyone to see.”

Spinning around, she pouts out her bottom lip. “It’s dark and no one will even notice me.” Her eyes plead with me, as her fingers continue to try to work out the knot.

“Every man in this place has been eye-fucking you long before you walked upstairs.”

“Fine, I’ll just get someone else to help.” She hits her bracelet’s button, turning it green.

“The hell you will,” I growl, grabbing her wrist and switching the color to red. If she’s not careful, I’ll remove the entire thing and slam it against the wall to make it stop working entirely.

“You’ve got quite the temper, Mr. Stone.”

“You keep toying with me and you are going to find yourself pressed up against a wall with my cock pumping inside you.That’s what you want, right? A quick and dirty fuck in a public place for everyone to see? You want to be degraded, Pen?”

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