Page 106 of The Assignment: Room 3

He drains his glass before setting it on the ornate, chunky oak coffee table.

“My parents died when I was twelve, and I got used to life on my own. It was the only way to get through it. I found guys I’d call family when I became a Navy SEAL… guys I would’ve laid down my life for. After you lose one, you start guarding yourself, preparing for the inevitable losses that may follow.”

I rest my hand on his knee, entreating him to keep talking.

“Dalton was the person I would visit when I had leave, and his mom became my surrogate mother. I loved her the way I loved my own. When her health started deteriorating, I knew the pain that would come when she passed. I tried to prepare Dalton, but in the end, nothing can prepare you for that kind of grief. It’s all-consuming.”

“What my mom said… it felt like offering you mom number three?”

“Yeah. I know she was just being nice, but it made me realize that what I’m asking of you is too much.”

“In what sense?”

“It’s a bait and switch. We agreed on no strings, and now I’m asking you to give me a chance at forever.”

“Forever?” My voice is thick with unshed tears.

“Yes. I know it will take time, and like you said, we need to take things slow for Gracie. I’m fine with that. I just want you to know my intentions.”

“Three months of no sex?”

He slides his hand up into my hair, holding me steady as he leans in, kissing my lips, asking for permission to love me. Every fiber of my being wants him—to let him love me and to love him in return—but I’m terrified. The lifestyle is all that held me together after my ex. Isurvivedhim.

“If you sign the contract.” He continues to nip and kiss my lips, his tongue darting out to tease me.

“What if the contract is amended to one month of no sex?”

He smiles against my mouth. “Done.”

“Do you have a copy of it?”

“Of course.” He leaves me wanting more as he jogs down the hallway to I don’t know where. My pulse is racing. It’s one thing talking about a hypothetical relationship contract, especially a twenty-four-seven one, but it’s a different thing entirely to sign on the dotted line for the next three months of my life. I’ve never had a contract longer than that. My previous Dom and I had an agreement of an initial three-month period, followed by rolling month-to-month as desired. Hopefully, Flex is interested in a similar arrangement, and he already knows about Gracie, so it’s not some big secret I have to keep from him.

When he returns with papers and a pen in hand, my stomach does somersaults, giddy at the prospect of being submissive to the notorious Flex Navarro. The moment he sits beside me, he thumbs through the contract to the three-months-no-sex clause. Grabbing the pen, he scrubs out the original timeframe, replaces it with ‘one month,’ and initials it before asking me to do the same. There are two copies—one for each of us. We repeat the process, and Flex hands me a copy.

“Read it, pet.”

“I read the one you gave me.”

“And?”

“And…” I grab the pen from his hand, flip to the back page, sign, and date it. I’m too scared to reread the full thing.

“Did you see the timeframe?”

“You changed it to one month.”

“I changed the no-sex clause. I mean the timeframe for the Dom/sub relationship.”

“No.” I panic. Has it also been amended to one month? It said three originally. I scramble through the pages, but there are no other scored-through terms.

“I changed it before printing it off the other night. That’s why I want you to read it. I won’t hold you to your signature of agreement unless you sign and date both copies.”

“Okay,” I practically whisper.

“Take your time. I’m going to make sure the guest room has everything you need.”

“What? I’m not sleeping in your bed?”

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