Page 36 of Fragile Twisted Vows

And that’s why when I sit on my bed in just a towel, my body scrubbed clean of today’s massacre because of his touch, that’s why I pick up the pen from the bedside table and sign the contract.

twelve

Damien

“Here,” Lucy says as she slaps a piece of paper down on my desk, her dark red fingernails stark against the white sheet.

That shouldn’t be hot. That shouldn’t make me imagine what those nails would feel like dragging down the skin of my back.

This is why I’ve put two days’ worth of space between us. Because of that intense moment in the shower, when I had my hands all over her wet, curvy, fucking delectable body. Because she’s starting to unravel me and it’s making me go insane.

And also because I had to find a way to dispose of yet another dead body.

“What is this?” I say as I glance down at the sheet on my desk as my pen drops from my hand.

I slide my glasses up the bridge of my nose. I haven’t shaved nor worn my contacts in the last two days. I’ve been too erratic and all over the place to focus on even the most mundane tasks. My hair is probably wild, but I could give a fuck less.

All I care about is trying to get those shapely, creamy looking thighs out of my mind. Thighs that are now bare and in my line of sight as her black skirt starts to ride up as she crosses her long legs and plants her plump ass right on my desk.

I rip my eyes away then, locking them onto the piece of paper.

It’s the contract. And it’s signed.

Ah, so she is a good girl.

“I have a condition,” she says simply and I roll my eyes and take my glasses off as I lean back in my chair.

Should’ve known.

“Of course you do,” I sigh as I pinch the bridge of my nose with two of my fingers, the week starting to wear on me.

She ignores my comment and continues, turning to face me full on, those legs dangling in front of me as I drag my gaze up the length of them until I am locked on her full breasts that push against the thin fabric of her white, short sleeved body suit.

Jesus Christ, she’s wearing a bodysuit.

Fuck me.

“I want to take my allowance and use it to go back to school. I want to finish my degree,” she says quietly, and the statement takes me by surprise.

I meet her eyes then. Her face is almost bare except for the bit of smoky shadow that accentuates the cat like curve of her eyes and the gloss that plumps her pink lips even more. Her hair is smoothed back into a tight ponytail. She looks…breathtaking.

And once again, fuck me.

“Fine,” I growl, looking back down at the contract before I rip open my file cabinet to put it inside and slam it shut.

“But you’re going online,” I hiss as I go back to my computer.

“Okay,” she says, a simple agreement.

No rebuttal. No bratty refusal.

Just okay.

Just…acceptance and obedience.

What is she up to?

“Great. Now get off my desk. I have work to do,” I grumble, and she raises her hands like I’m a cop about to handcuff her.

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