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"I dance. After a night of shaking my ass, I always fall into a deep sleep."
"Oh, really? That's interesting." He taps a finger to his lips. "Which of the following two options causes you to sleep the deepest, dancing or an orgasm?"
"Wouldn't you like to know?" I stand up and stick the last bite of donut in my mouth. Cole jumps to his feet and takes a step towards me.
"You don't have to answer, don't worry. I already know, because I've witnessed from up close how deep you sleep after an orgasm."
I push my finger into his chest. "Don't flatter yourself, Walker. Last night was fine, I give you that, but if that was all you’ve got, I guess you're not making it onto my top three ranking list of the greatest orgasms I've had."
I give him a wink, and as I want to turn around, he stops me by pulling me against his chest. With one powerful arm wrapped around my waist, he holds me in place.
"Look at me."
As always, my eyes dart up hearing that authoritative tone of his, and as I meet his gaze, they keep mine hostage.
"I've thought long and hard about our conversation yesterday. And I've concluded that I might have said no too early."
"What?" I whisper. "Is that your way of telling me you changed your mind?"
"Yes, but..."
"But what?"
He lets go of me, and after walking to the bench and pulling something out of his workout bag, he returns out and hands me an envelope.
"If you sign the papers inside this envelope, my answer is yes."
"What is this?" I ask while taking the envelope from him.
"It's a contract that I put together last night."
"Are you joking?"
"No. But if you want to have this dick"—he grabs my hand and plants it on his crotch— "it will be on the terms I've drawn up."
My gaze drops to my hand. "Why a contract?"
"Because it will keep things clear for both of us."
He looks at his watch and lets go. "Sorry, but I have to go." He moves away, and after grabbing his water bottle, he strolls towards the door.
"Oh, one more thing. The offer stands until ten tonight. If you haven't signed and returned it by then. The deal is off."
I gaze at the envelope in my hand, and the second he leaves the room, I open it and pull out two papers. “H-he wasn't joking,” I stammer as my eyes wander over the document. "He wrote a fucking sex contract."
15
COLE
Seconds after ringingthe bell of the classic federal-style house on Boston’s most elegant block, the front door of this gracious, bow-front residence opens, and I smile at the middle-aged man with black, greyish hair. The lines around his eyes have gotten deeper as the years pass, but the sparkle in them is as radiant as the day I met him. "Cole! Come in."
"Hey, Jeremy. How are you?"
"I’m fine. Getting a little older, but don’t we all?"
I pause in the open hallway and try to control the suffocating sensations rising inside my chest as I wander into my childhood home. This place scratches at emotions and memories I simply prefer to forget. Jeremy stops next to me, and I shift my attention to him when he gives me a slight shoulder tap. Jeremy is the kindhearted housekeeper who came to work for my parents when I was five. And he does everything with a smile.
"Your mother has mentioned you many times these last weeks. She misses you."
