Page 78 of The Deal with the Playboy

I want to tell him he can pull out and that I’m on birth control, but it led to a fight last time. It pissed me off that he doesn’t trust me, and thinking about it now makes me a little sad. I want him to trust me.

Without responding, I drop to my knees and unzip his pants, then I take out his fat, long dick and shove it in my mouth. I can’t fit him all the way in, so I suck the head as he strokes the shaft, making grunting noises. His other hand goes to my hair, and he holds my head in a vise grip.

“Your tongue feels amazing, just like the last time.”

My knees hurt from rubbing against the carpet, my eyes sting with tears, and my jaw hurts, but the look on his face—that fucking look drives me mad. He looks so beautiful when he’s submitting to the ecstasy, and it makes me wetter than a rainy day. I love the fact that I drive him crazy and I get to see this side of him, knowing no other woman will get to see him come or get to taste him again. He’s all mine, and I’m enjoying it too much.

Several minutes later, he comes in my mouth, and I swallow every bit of his seed, earning me a smile.

Realization hits me like a ton of bricks. What are we doing? What is the status of our relationship?I’m trying so hard to keep this relationship purely business, but somewhere along the line, the line became blurry. We became more than just business partners. We spend time with each other like we’re a real couple, but he hasn’t said anything that would confirm we’re more than friends with benefits.

He zips up his pants, and then we stare into each other’s eyes. Emotions flicker across his face. I can’t read them. Maybe he feels what I feel, maybe he’s lost on what we should do or be for each other. He strokes my chin, and I smell myself on his fingers. A hint of sadness flashes across his eyes. He opens the door and takes a final long look at me, then he exits the room. My shoulders sag as the muffled music vibrates against the wall.

He left me with more questions than answers about our relationship.

And I need to figure out what we are before I invest any more time in us.

Otherwise, I’m the one who’s going to end up with a broken heart.

Jasper

Ilift weights over my head in the gym within the building where I live. I need to release some tension and clear my head.

What the fuck am I doing with Poppy? I want her to be more than a business transaction. Fuck. I’m growing soft. I can’t stop thinking about her, no matter what I do. My crush on her is getting worse the longer I stay married to her. I look forward to talking to her, but the thought of us being an actual couple doesn’t sit right with me. The thought of investing my feelings in her scares me. Everything has a cost. Whether it’s money or time. But I don’t want to live my life on what-ifs. Having said that, I’m not ready to make this relationship real, even though I want to fuck her again.

She makes me feel as if our relationship isn’t strictly business. Maybe I’ve been thinking the wrong way, maybe relationships are possible without business deals. After my breakup with Gemma, I had to make every relationship with women about business.

But Poppy isn’t Gemma.

I’m done lying to myself about what I want, and what I want is Poppy.

Putting the weights back on the rack, I grab my phone and send my lawyer a message to come up with a contract between Poppy and me. He informs me the contract is going to be ready in an hour. I shoot Poppy a message.

Me: Be ready at 7pm. Wear something sexy and elegant.

Poppy: Where are we going?

Me: Dinner. We need to talk.

Poppy: Are we going on a pretend date?

What if she says no to the terms and conditions of the new contract? She can’t; it will benefit her more than the last one we put in place.

Me: No.

Poppy: Okay.

I tuck my phone back in my pocket and hop on the treadmill.

Tonight is the night Poppy will be officially mine.

After work, Poppy and I ride in silence to the restaurant that I closed down solely for us. This seafood restaurant is the third restaurant I opened right after college and I’m excited for her to see it.

Usually, I don’t take women to places I own, because I don’t want them trying to destroy it when I tell them what I want, but Poppy is special to me.

I glance at my wife as she plays with the hem of her cocktail dress. Her hair is in a high ponytail and her make up looks natural. Poppy doesn’t need makeup to make her beautiful. She’s more beautiful than clear blue sea water. Sometimes I like to stare at her in awe, because her beauty is breathtaking. My gaze drops down to her bare legs and I place my hand on her thigh, squeezing tight. This is me claiming her, possessing her in the way I want to.

Her almond-shaped eyes narrow, then she slips her palm into mine. It’s become a habit to brush my lips across her small knuckles, and she smells divine. I’ve been around her for no more than thirty minutes and I’m ready to stick my dick inside her.

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