Page 126 of Story of My Life
She shook her head. “A dirty, rough, meaningless fling. A rebound.”
Her mouth was even closer to mine now, and I could feel my control fraying.
“Getting involved with you, the client who can make or break my family’s business, would be monumentally stupid,” I reminded her. I leaned in and tracked my nose up her jawline.
She let out a hiss of breath. “Okay, then let’s put it in writing.”
I drew back. “Put what in writing?”
“You want to fuck me. I want to fuck you. You don’t want a relationship. I want to focus on writing a book.”
“I feel like you’re laying a trap.”
“Cam, I’ve written more words since you kissed me than I have in the past two years. Imagine my output if you make me come.”
“WhenI make you come.” It came out like a threat.
She jumped off the arm of the sofa and grabbed my wrist. “Come with me.”
I let her drag me down the hall, past the library and dining room and into her darkened office. She switched on the desk lamp and flipped her notebook to a fresh sheet of paper.
“We, Hazel Hart and Campbell Bishop, promise to enjoy dirty, rough, meaningless sex as long as it is convenient to us both. We will not allow our physical relationship to interfere with our business relationship. And we will not pursue a romantic relationship with each other,” she said as she scrawled the words onto the page. She signed it with a flourish and held the pen out to me. Her cheeks were flushed, brown eyes glassy.
“You can’t be serious,” I said as she slid the paper to me.
“It’s an agreement in writing. A legally binding sex pact. We’re setting our expectations,” she said.
“What if I’m done having sex with you before you’re ready to be done having sex with me?” The pen was hot in my hand.
“Then no hard feelings. As soon as one of us is done, we’re both done.”
I wasn’t thinking clearly. There was too much need pumping through my veins. That’s what had me putting the tip of the pen to the page and scribbling my signature.
“Okay,” she said. “Now what?”
I tossed the pen over my shoulder and grabbed her.
28
ROILING LUST SWAMP
HAZEL
I foundmyself perched on the edge of my makeshift desk, thighs spread, with Campbell Bishop and his gigantic cock standing between them.
“Better not have any romantic ideas for this first time, baby. It’s gonna be fast and mean,” he warned as he cupped my face in his hand.
“Fast and mean is good,” I said a split second before his mouth slanted over mine.
Everything about him was hot and hard, and apparently my body loved that.
His free hand delved between my legs and cupped my sex through my shorts. “Goddammit. I knew you’d be wet.”
Wet was an understatement. Puddles were wet. Aquariums. A few caresses on a stepladder, and I was a South American rainy season flash flood. Was I too wet? Did I need to worry about what he thought? If he was just my rebound guy and we were just using each other for sex, I didn’t actually have to worry about impressing him, did I?
“Been thinking about these shorts since I woke you up this week,” he confessed on a growl. “Wondering what you had on under them.”
I spread my thighs wider in a taunt. “A whole lot of nothing.”
