Plus, she had her stepfather’s money to keep her from penury, which she’d found was a big asset in publishing. It was a passion job, more than it was a job for the money.
It was also funny now, because she and Romeo were enmeshed. Deeper than her owning part of the company could ever make her.
She took the high-speed elevator up to the top floor, and didn’t find Romeo in his office. She got a text directing her to the boardroom down the hall.
The room was completely private, no windows on the door. She swallowed hard, and then walked in.
There might not be any windows out into the office, but the entire exterior wall was glass, offering a view of the streets below. They were more than forty floors up, so she knew that while she had a view of the world, the world did not have a view of them.
Her heart felt like it was being squeeze by a giant fist.
He wasn’t in there yet. She had a feeling that was by design. She sat down at the head of the table. That would make him angry.
She despised herself with a little thrill of adrenaline that raced through her at the thought of making him angry. She got off on that. She was going to have to work on that, probably.
The door opened, and there he was. All in black, looking sharply pressed. His gaze flicked to where she sat, and then he walked down the length of the table, taking his seat completely opposite her.
He got out his briefcase, the sound of the locks being opened loud in the relatively quiet room. He took out a stack of papers and tapped the edges once on the edge of the table with a crack, and then slid them across toward her.
“This is where we’re at,” he said, indicating the contract.
He had left it deliberately out of her reach. She stood up and walked to the center of the table, suddenly aware that the V-neck on her shirt was quite low. When she bent down to grab the papers, she watched his gaze, noticed the way that he looked at her cleavage.
The power play aroused her, and she had not come here to be turned on.
But then, she supposed if she didn’t want to be turned on she shouldn’t consent to share the same air as Romeo.
She began to look down the prenuptial agreement. If either of them broke the stipulations of the agreement, the other one would be given full custody, and a sizable share of the other’s assets. They had both agreed to that. They had both agreed that the shackles needed to be tight, because what made sense now might become difficult for them to abide by in the future.
But when she reached the part about marital conduct, she stopped. That had been the most contentious part. Because what they had agreed was that either they had no control over each other’s sexual conduct, or all of it. The current version of the contract said that all extramarital sexual encounters had to be consented to by those within the marriage. And that there would be consequences if the affair ever became public.
She looked up at him. “I think that this covers everything.”
“I have added another page,” he said.
“Have you?”
“Yes. For you and I to go over and make adjustments to.” He took a pen out of his briefcase and clicked the top once.
She turned the page. There were addendums to what she had previously seen.
In the event that both parties decide to conduct a sexual relationship with each other then sex outside the marriage becomes unacceptable.
She looked up at him. “You think that’s going to happen?”
“Keep reading.”
Provided that the sexual relationship is satisfying to both parties. Wherein all kinks and desires should be catered to and orgasm shall be achieved by both.
Her face went hot. “All kinks?”
“Why take anything off the table before you’ve tried it?”
Was he trying to goad her? Make her run? Make her freak out?
Oh, please, asshole. We’ve been at this for too long.
Her heart was beating rapidly, her face hot, and she took her own pen out and made an amendment to kinks, and to the section about orgasms. She slid the paperwork across the table to him. His dark eyebrows raised high. “Two orgasms to every one of mine?”
