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“The fuckpad?” I blurt before I can bite my tongue.
He doesn’t respond to that apart from a subtle tremor in his brow. “My driver will drop you back home when we’re done.”
“So… no sleepovers?”
“That is correct.”
I nod distractedly, feeling uneasy about one thing in particular. “What about other partners? That is, um, other sexual partners?”
His expression completely flatlines. His mouth turns into a harsh grimace, his eyes narrow, and his jaw clenches.
Makes me feel like maybe I should have read the fine print.
“For as long as this arrangement between us lasts, you will not be permitted to date, kiss, or fuck anyone other thanme.”
I should resent the amount of control he’s exerting on my life, but somehow, the possessive snarl in his tone has my body writhing with delight.
“Not what I meant.”
His expression doesn’t relax. “No? Then whatdidyou mean?”
“I need to know if this is a two-way street.” I take a sip of champagne to bolster my nerves. “I’m sure we both share the same concerns.” It’s the only way I can think of to get him to stop glaring at me and see even a sliver of reason. He doesn’t want to share me with other men? Fine by me. I don’t want him sharing whatever he catches from other women, either.
“Hm.”
That freaking“hm.”It’s amazing how one little sound can ride under my skin in the worst way.
“I will agree to keep our arrangement monogamous.” His tone is clipped, so I have no idea if he’s happy about the concession or not, butIcertainly am.
I file his answer away under my “victory” column and focus on a more practical point. “How often will I be coming?”
“You’ll be coming to the penthouse twice a week. As for how often you’ll be coming…” He shrugs mischievously.
“Only twice?”
He smirks at the eagerness that question implies. I wanna kick myself.Great, Emma. Good job not looking desperate.
“I’m a busy man, Emma. Discipline is the cornerstone of my life. Twice a week will be sufficient, but you should be prepared to be on call at any time.”
“‘Any time’ doesn’t really cut it when you’ve got three kids with different schedules and different needs. I’m gonna need advance notice. At least…” I quickly calculate Amelia’s typical response time. “At least three to four hours.”
His jaw tightens. “Very well.” He sips his champagne and the southern half of my body is making me wish that I were the flute in his impossibly large hand.
“In addition to your monthly salary, you will be compensated for your time in the form of a weekly allowance.”
My eyes widen. “A what?”
“It’s simply a way to account for any expenses that might come up as a result of our arrangement. As I understand it, you have three young dependents?” I nod and he continues. “I’m aware that childcare is not cheap. The allowance will make sure they’re looked after so that you don’t have any distractions when you’re with me.”
The man is thorough; you gotta give him that.His explanation does go a long way toward making me feel better about the whole exchanging-sex-for-money dilemma. There’s still a lot of moral ambiguity, but it’s a little easier to ignore.
“One more thing.”
I shift in my chair, unease turning my palms sweaty.
“I’m not interested in trapping you, Emma. You’re free to break our contract at any time, as long as you give me notice. You will still get your severance package, as well as a good recommendation.”
I exhale slowly, pleasantly surprised by the escape hatch he’s allowing me.
