“It’s a contract.”
My brows arched higher, even though I tried to let my cool tone belie my curiosity. “What does it say?”
“Well, it outlines the catch, as you called it, which is that for the entire week, seven days and seven nights, you’ll do exactly as I say, word for word, or suffer the consequences.” I felt a desire to laugh so strong that it tickled my throat. I swallowed past it-- just barely--mostly due to the solemn nature of his eyes. If this was a joke, his eyes would be smiling right now, even if his mouth wasn’t. I knew by the way he stared back at me, impassively, that he was very serious.
“What does it say?” I asked, once I was reasonably sure I could speak without cackling.
“You should read it and find out.” He offered the paper once more, and eyeing it dubiously, I took it.
I left it folded, though, and met his gaze. “So, one week of my life in exchange for a million dollars?”
His gaze was turning wary. “Yes, but you still need to read it to see the particulars.”
“Why can’t you just tell me?”
Geoffrey clenched his jaw and I saw a muscle tick along his strong jawline. “Because you always read a contract thoroughly before you sign it, Nicole.”
There it was again--that take-charge, almost scolding voice that, excluding today, I’d never heard before. Strangely, I found myself intrigued by it. Partly because it was new and partly because I had a strange suspicion that I was seeing a side of him that had previously been hidden from me. The fact that he would even go to the trouble of drawing up a contract made me more curious still. Rationally, my brain told me that it was only a week in exchange for a guaranteed payday. What idiot wouldn’t take that bet? Plus, sometime during this bizarre, unexpected conversation it had occurred to me that the money would come in handy for more than one reason. My mother might be having a lot of medical bills coming up, and with this money, I could help her with them.
“Nicole? Are you listening to me?” His voice had gone soft, yet somehow sterner.
A little shiver ran along my body, but I didn’t feel cold. “Yes.” My voice came out as a breathy little whisper that I didn’t recognize.
“Are you going to read it?” He arched a brow, a silent warning, I could tell. What I didn’t know was what it warned against.
I should cut my losses. The face I’d thought of as being so familiar was looking more like a stranger’s by the moment. There was a fire in Geoffrey’s eyes that was foreign to me, an edge to his voice that belied the gentle, kind man I knew him to be. And God help me, but a part of me--a very big part of me--wanted to know this new side of him before I left him behind. How would I truly be able to put the past in the past if I had any lingering doubt?
“And if I don’t?” There was a challenge in my words, softly spoken, but there nonetheless. I could see it register in the flicker of his eyes, and there was a strange tightness in my chest as I waited to see what he’d say.
“Are you telling me you don’t want to accept my offer?”
I shouldn’t want to. I was smart enough to know that. But God help me, I wanted to anyway. “Do you have a pen?”
His brows arched together, rising toward his hairline. Then, all at once they crashed, knitting together. “Nicole, I want you to consider this very carefully. If you don’t read something before you sign it, you have no idea what you’re agreeing to.”
“So tell me what I’m agreeing to.” I’d never been so willful and stubborn before. I couldn’t say what made me behave so now, only that the words seemed to come out before I’d even thought of them. It felt like I was inside a dream, everything felt fuzzy and surreal. Maybe that was why I felt comfortable enough to test him. That, and the fact that I’d never had a reason to before, made me uncharacteristically bold.
Suddenly, his expression changed, the corners of his mouth tilting upward. “I’ll tell you what, how about I read it to you?”
It felt like a win, but still, I hesitated, made unsure by the sudden gleam in his eyes. “Okay.”
Without another word, Geoffrey took me by the wrist and pulled me toward the bed. My brow wrinkled--was he going to try to make a pass at me, not even an hour after I’d told him I wanted to break up? Regardless, I let him lead me. Then, with a hand to my back, he pushed me down until I lay over the edge of the mattress, my tummy pressing into the fresh sheets even as my bottom half pushed out toward him.
“If I’m going to read it to you,” he cut me off swiftly, “then this is how you’ll stay while I do. Understand?”
I didn’t know what possessed me to stay there, bent in half with his hand pressed to the small of my back. My belly had begun to feel so strange and I had a feeling that it had to do with more than the sheets that pressed against it. It was an odd, fluttery sensation, coupled with the feeling of his hand gently but authoritatively pressed against my skin. My pussy didn’t seem quite so uncertain as the rest of me and had begun the slow, aching throb that precluded a good romp in bed. It had been quite a while, come to think of it--and how could I not, with the air suddenly so thick with sexual tension?
“I understand.” The words came out as a low warble, but I knew he heard them because he immediately responded by hiking up the gauzy cotton skirt I was wearing. The feel of the air kissing my skin left goosebumps along the backs of my legs. My breath caught in my throat even as my pussy pulsed hotter. What was I doing? What was I allowing to be done to me? It suddenly seemed like a huge gamble, but I closed my eyes and let out a long sigh when I felt my fiancé’s hand caress my ass through my thin panties.
“Rule one: the undersigned, hereby referred to as ‘the submissive’, will always refer to the dominant as ‘Sir, Master, or Master Geoffrey.’”
Wait, what? I craned my neck back to peer at him, trying to see if his lips had bloomed fully into a smile. To my shock and disbelief, the beginnings of the smile I’d seen had vanished completely and he was looking back at me as calm and collected as he could be.
“Do you understand what I just read, Nicole?”