“Me being in control doesn’t only mean me fucking you every chance I get. It also means cooking for you to make sure you eat,” he continued, tilting his head slightly. “And making sure you stay hydrated while you’re locked away in your head with those characters you’re creating. You’ll probably forget, and that’s okay. I’ll be here to remind you. I’ll be here to make sure you don’t neglect yourself while you focus on your dream.”
My heart squeezed painfully at the casual way he said it, like taking care of me was as natural as breathing.
“It means movie nights,” Julian added, a teasing light sparking in his eyes. “Even if you whine about needing to get back to your laptop. It means making you take breaks. Making sure you laugh. Making sure you don’t lose yourself completely inside that book. It also means making sure you focus on writing and don’t get discouraged. I’ll be taking the reins so that you can relax. Not because I want to own you or control you. I just want you to worry less and be as stress-free as possible.”
I let out a shaky breath, already feeling lighter at the thought of it. He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low, intimate rasp.
“And it means bathing you after a long day of writing,” he murmured, his thumb tracing slow circles against my skin. “Washing your body, massaging out the tension, kissing every inch of you just because I want you to know that you’re just as loved and cherished as the heroine you plan to write about.”
I blinked rapidly, overwhelmed by the picture he was painting. A summer not just of passion, but ofcare. Oflove.
“And I’m not gonna crowd you, Stefanie,” he said. “I have to work. I’ll be gone most mornings. I’m not gonna be in your face all day, every day. You’ll have your space. And when your daughter is around, I’ll leave if you want me to. No complaints.”
He squeezed my hands gently.
“But if you need me...” His voice softened. “All you’ll have to do is call. No matter where I am, I'll come to you, wherever you are.”
Tears threatened again, but this time they weren’t because of grief or fear. They were because this man made me feel like I could actually have the kind of love I’d always dreamed of. A love that didn’t only take and break. But a love that gave and brought hope to both people who were in love.
“And every night,” Julian continued, his smile turning so tender it nearly broke me. “I want to come home to you. I want to be beside you. I want to wrap you in my arms and listen while you tell me what your characters did that day.”
I laughed, a watery, disbelieving sound, because his words sounded too perfect. Too right. Too much like a dream I'd convinced myself wasn’t possible. Looking into Julian's eyes, I realized it was possible.
No, it hadn’t been possible with Archie. And no, it wouldn’t be possible with Hudson or any of the men from my past. But with the right man, with the man kneeling in front of me, it could be possible.
I smiled through the tears that slipped free anyway. His version of control wasn’t terrifying at all. It was exactly what I needed. Because it wasn’t truly control. To me, it sounded more like being cherished thoroughly.
“Is that something you’d be interested in?” he asked.
I didn’t hesitate, not even for a second.
“Yes,” I whispered. “I want that, Julian.”
Relief flashed across his face. “Good,” he said, pressing a soft kiss to my knuckles. “Because now, I just need you to do one thing for me before it’s official.”
“What’s that?”
“Check your email, baby. I sent you a contract this morning while you were still sleeping.”
My brows furrowed as I reached for my phone, already feeling a nervous flutter deep in my belly.
“A contract?” I asked, trying to sound casual and not panicked.
“A Summer Research Partner Contract,” Julian corrected smoothly. “I want to take your word for it that you’ll let me do all those things for you. But you have a habit of overthinking things. That’s why I need it in writing. For the entire summer while you work on your book, you’ll leave everything else to me. I’ll make sure you’re fucked, fed, hydrated and loved the entire summer. And me failing to do my job is the only reason you can break the contract, nothing else.”
I burst out laughing. “Are you serious? Do we really need a contract for this?”
He nodded, looking serious as hell. “I need it in writing. And once you sign, you’re mine, Stefanie Adams.”
“For the summer,” I added.
Julian smirked. “Sign it, love.”
I noted that he didn’t clarify for the summer. But I was okay with that. I opened the email and read over the contract he’d sent me. This man! He was dead serious. It was funny as hell how he’d actually put all of that in writing.
I started to esign the contract. He grabbed my hand, stopping me.
“If you sign it, you’re mine,” he told me.