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He sits next to me on the bed.
He’s still naked.
So am I.
“I drafted it myself.”
I nod slowly. “Figures. I doubt clause number nine would ever appear on a bona fide contract.”
“Why not?” He caresses my thigh.
My eyes follow the trajectory of his fingers. “Are you distracting me?”
“Maybe.”
“Am I getting you all worked up?”
I ignore his teasing and read the clause out loud. “Clause nine: Receiving party shall submit without question to main party’s requests regardless of the time of day and regardless of the nature of the requests. What do you mean by that?”
“I want to make sure we’re clear on the terms of this arrangement when we cross the Atlantic. I don’t want you to think you’re going on a Parisian shopping spree, and forget to satisfy my needs.” He drops a kiss on my shoulder.
I didn’t expect this playful side of him.
I keep the game going. “What about Clause eleven?”
“Refresh my memory.”
He’s full of shit.
“Clause eleven: Receiving party shall at all times wear one of the designated lingerie selections and must allow main party to inspect.” I stop reading and look at him.
Intense blue eyes stare at me. “That one is pretty straightforward.”
“You want to inspect the bra and panties I’ll be wearing every day?”
“It’s tied to clause nine. And knowing you’re wearing one of the lingerie items I select for you will be a major turn on during those dry meetings. Think about how kinky it will be. No one else but the two of us will know why I keep staring at your tits.” He lowers his head and bites my stiff nipple, sending shivers through my body.
I grunt. “Not fair.”
I push him away.
He’s unaffected, while I’m hot and bothered.
“You’re not done reading the contract yet,” he reminds me. Carry on.”
“Carry on? You’re British all of a sudden?”
“I love the indignation in your voice,” he says, amused. “I’m game to fuck it right out of you.”
“Let me keep reading.”
He chuckles.
“Number thirteen: Receiving party shall address main party respectfully at all times in public as ‘Mr. Van Der Linden’ or ‘Monsieur Van Der Linden.’ ‘Mr. Van Der Linden?’ Why so formal?”
“The French are more formal than us Americans.”
“I see. I’m a subordinate, and you have the upper hand on me.”
