Page 10 of The Contract

His next words are a promise.

A damnation.

A sin spoken between us.

“Just pleasure.”

I swallow hard, my resolve slipping.

One night.

Justone.

No strings. No messy emotions. No consequences.

I should walk away.

But then what?

I go back to my apartment.

Crawl into my cold bed.

Spend the night thinking about the way helooksat me.

The way his fingersfeelagainst my skin.

The way his voicecurlsaround his words, dark and decadent and unyielding.

I meet his gaze again.

Blue. Sharp. Unwavering.

I alreadyknowwhat he wants.

And fuck—I want it too.

More than I should.

A long, slow exhale shudders through me as I press my lips together.

I should say no.

My lips even part to speak it.

But then…

“Yes.”

Of course, he has a room here.

And not just any room—the best room.

The elevator glides to a smooth stop, the soft chime barely cutting through the thick tension stretching between us. The top floor. A private suite that likely costs more per night than most people make in a month.

The doors slide open, revealing a short hallway with only one entrance—his.

He presses a key card to the panel, the lock clicking open with quiet finality. I step inside, the lights flickering on automatically, bathing the space in a soft, golden glow.

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