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“Okay, I will be your mistress,” I reply, “but I will tell you if there’s anything that makes me uncomfortable, and I would want you to stop. Anytime I ask. Do you promise you’ll do that?”
“I promise I will remain a gentleman throughout all ofthis,” Damon says. “I want you to know that I get the most pleasure fromyourpleasure. And I want everything to be consensual. Despite what you may have heard of me, I can be a thoughtful lover.”
Am I really seriously considering going through with this? Am I really seriously considering signing a pact with the devil?
I can’t deny that there is a part of me that’s so freaking turned on by the thought of submitting myself to this man. But this is going to be an agreement where I practically turn over my body, and all the obligations that come with that, and I am terrified of what that might possibly mean.
But. Still. It’s kind oferotic. In the most fucked-up way.
“And one more thing,” I add. Damon is intently listening. “I want you to promise not to touch my dad. Not during this whole thing. Not one hand on him.”
“I’m a man of honor,” Damon replies solemnly. “I wouldn’t do that. Consider your father completely off-limits. Again, you have my word. When you are my girl, you are like family, and I allow no one to go near my family.”
“Okay,” I say, nodding. “Give me the damn contract. I’ll sign it. Get this over withasap.”
“Let me call my lawyer,” Damon replies. “They’ll have it all drafted up in an hour.”
True to his word,Damon’s lawyers come back with a copy of the contract within the hour. He really does have that kind of power to just call up a team of law professionals in the middle of the night to cater to his crazy whims. It’s weird seeing the actual written-down document in front of me. It all looks so...legal.
Damon was on the phone with his lawyers as theywrote it up, and so I sat here in his office feeling very left alone, still trying to process what the hell I’ve signed up for.
I want to bite my nails down to nothing. I feel itchy all over.
Even though I’m wearing my professional pantsuit, I don’t feel very professional at this minute.
I feel desperate.
And a tiny bit turned on, I have to admit. It’s kind of alluring seeing Damon so businesslike and commanding. Seeing him so adept on the phone. Hearing the lawyers bow down to him like he owns their ass.
He sure is a powerful man.
“Before you sign it,” Damon says to me once everything is completed and there is a contract being printed, “I’m going to need you to sign something else. A non-disclosure agreement.”
“An NDA?” I ask. “What for?”
“It’s just something we Penmaynes have to be careful about,” the gangster replies. “Our lives are very...exposed. We don’t like our privacy aired out in the open like dirty washing, especially me. Every single one of my employees has to sign an NDA.”
“So I’m one of youremployeesnow?”
“Ava. Sign it.”
I sigh. “Okay, let me see it before I put my name to anything.”
Damon pulls out another form. Reading it, I can see that it’s a watertight NDA. So much legalese it makes my head spin. I wonder how many people he’s made sign one of these binding documents. Reading it, I understand it really bars me from talking about Damon, his businesses, his family, and basically anything even remotely related to the Penmaynes to anyone else.
Holy shit, this is all so very real. What have I got myself into here?
“You really want me?” I ask the man, my voice quivering on the edge.
Damon stands up and glides over to me sitting in his office chair. He lowers himself down to my level. He gently brushes my hair to the side in order to whisper into my ear.
“I really want you, Ava,” he snarls quietly. His breath is hot against my neck. “Isn’t that obvious enough already? I want to make you mine.”
I nod tentatively.
I’m surprised by how wet I am.
God, this man does impossible things to me.
