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“Here then,” she says. “Maybe your house one day.”

“Good,” I say, writing those notes down as well. “Now, let’s establish what’s allowed and what isn’t.”

“No handcuffs,” she blurts out, her nostrils flaring. “Ever.”

“You make the rules here,” I remind her. “Be upfront and tell me everything you want, but most importantly, tell me everything you don’t want.”

“Y-You can bind me, with your hands maybe, but I want to be able to get away if I can,” she says, her voice shaky.

“Can I bite you?” I ask with a playful smirk.

A smile breaches her pretty face, and she loses some of the tension. “I’ll allow it.”

“Good,” I say with a chuckle. “You look tasty.”

She bites her bottom lip. “I’m not opposed to pain.”

“As long as I include some pleasure?”

“Yes,” she agrees. “And I…I want you to keep going, even if I cry.”

“Because we have a safe word,” I remind her. “One you will use when you don’t want me to keep going.”

“Yes.”

“Good girl.”

She laughs, and the sound is lovely.

“Are orgasms okay?” I taunt.

“They’re preferred,” she says back, rolling her eyes. “That is, if you can make them happen.”

I flash her a crooked grin. “That’s a given. But I’ll write it down so I’m contractually obligated to make it happen.”

“Smartass,” she grumbles, but not unkindly.

“Penetration?”

Her cheeks burn red. “I’m clean and on the pill.”

“I’m clean too.” Of course I’ll want to see paperwork that proves that, and I’ll show her mine, but for now, I leave it. “I take it penetration is okay, then?”

“That’s fine.”

“Anal?”

She blinks several times. “I…I don’t know.”

“We can always write an addendum to the contract later if we want to add it.” I wink at her to lighten the mood. “Kissing?”

Her brows furrow together as her eyes dart to my lips. “I think so.”

“Not good enough, Quinn. If there’s any doubt, it needs to be removed from the list. Just like anal.”

“Kissing is okay,” she breathes. “Just not on the back of my neck.” She shudders. “In fact, I don’t want your face anywhere near the back of my neck.”

An odd request, but I write it down anyway.

“Can I put my mouth on you everywhere else?”

She swallows and nods.

I lick my lips, getting a thrill at the way her gaze lingers on them.

“Can I chase you?”

“Yes.” Doubt flickers in her eyes, but she doesn’t say no.

“Can I sneak up on you?”

“Yes.”

“Can I threaten you?”

“You can try.”

I laugh. “It’s all a game we’re playing. Don’t forget. And you have the one thing that ends the game.”

“Hush,” she whispers.

“Yes, ma’am.”

She smirks. “Good boy.”

Confidence looks good on her.

“Can I fight you?” she asks.

“Do you want to win?”

She frowns. “I can’t be a victim.”

Whoever made you this way will rot in hell one day.

“No, because you’re a fighter. You’re also in charge. A rule maker. A boss. You’re the puppet master in this game. You hold all the cards. You’re on top.” I wink. “Except when I have you pinned beneath me.”

“But I’ll still be in charge,” she whispers.

I grin at her. “This paper is the beginning. It starts and ends with you. I’m simply here to help you.”

“Why are you saying yes to me?”

“Because I can’t bear the thought of someone else saying yes. I don’t trust them.”

“But you trust yourself?” she asks.

“I have to,” I say softly. “You’re relying on me. And I don’t let my friends down. Ever.”

“Thank you, Joshua.”

I scribble my name on the paper and push it over to her. “You can thank me when I make you come.”

“You’re pacing,” I say before sipping my glass of whiskey. “Sure you don’t want a drink?”

Her lips thin out. “I like to keep a clear head.”

“And I’m not going to get you when you’re doing that.”

She frowns. “Doing what?”

“Waiting for it.”

A loud sigh escapes her. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize. I’m simply communicating here. Talk to me. Why are you pacing?”

“I’m wondering if this is a bad idea.”

“Want to practice?”

She chews on her bottom lip. “Yes.”

“Take your shirt off.”

Her eyes bug out. “What?”

“You have a cami on underneath. Take the other shirt off and cool down. If you can’t trust me enough to partially undress, how will we ever get to the rest?”

Her brows furrow, but she nods. “Okay.” She begins unbuttoning her shirt with shaky fingers, then peels it off her body. Her tits are nice handfuls under her white cami. Pert nipples poke through the fabric, making my dick twitch.

“Good job. Now, let go of the shirt.”

It drops to the floor. I drain the rest of my glass before setting it on the coffee table, then rise to my feet. Her eyes widen, and she takes a step back.

“You have a safe word,” I remind her.

She nods.

I take another step toward her, forcing her to take another one back.

“I can see your nipples through your shirt. I’m going to touch one.”

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