“I want a modeling contract for the length of the marriage, with the option to renew afterward if it’s mutually agreeable.” The words tumble out and my confidence feeds off of them. “And I want an active role in choosing the assignments that come my way, so I can decide which are best for me. Also, I’d like to be kept in the loop about Danica Rose—you know, like if the company is bouncing back the way you’re all hoping. Considering it’s my future on the line, too, I feel like I should know how the general health of the business is doing.”
He eyes me thoughtfully and I hope the blip of nerves I feel doesn’t show. Yes, I do want to know how DRM is doing. Another scandal could put me out of a job and seriously affect my future. But also, the more info I have in my back pocket to use at my disposal, the better. Insider information could pay off for me in the long run—though I don’t mention that to him.
“Anything else, Brooklyn?”
My confidence comes back as he moves along.
“I want to pick out my ring.”
It’s petty, I know, but if I’m doing this, I want it to be Instagram perfect. I’ve already started thinking about how I’d stage the ring on my hand, with a background at the Navy Pier botanical gardens, catching the flash of the diamond in just the right light.
Luka chuckles a little and spreads his hands. “Is that all?”
“I might think of something else, but those are the main requirements.”
It’s not my imagination; he did move closer. Our legs press firmly from knee to hip and he’s looking at me as if waiting for more. Should I have asked for something else? I scramble to think of something I missed, when his hand slides over mine and my brain ceases to think.
“You don’t have any conditions on when we get married, or where? No conditions on where we’ll live…or where we’llsleep?” he asks.
Our eyes lock, and my nipples pull hard inside my thin bralette. His gaze drops there, my pulse rising as he spies the visible proof of my arousal. I can’t think like this.
“Um, maybe…maybe you could put some more clothes on,” I suggest.
He lets out a low, sexy laugh. I want to touch him so badly, have him flip me onto my back on the couch and cover me with every inch of that gorgeous body. I want to feel the length of his cock through his pants, grind up against him as I—
“On second thought,” I say, “go get dressed so we can take this conversation to the coffee shop down the street.”
“What’s the problem with discussing things here?” he asks. “It’s our chemistry, isn’t it?”
“It’s not that,” I lie. “I just think professional boundaries are a good idea.”
“You know, it helps that we’re attracted to each other,” he says. He reaches up his hand, trailing it across my cheek. I feel the sparks through my entire body. “That energy between us. That heat that makes your throat dry and your pussy wet.”
Clenching my thighs together, I uselessly attempt to hold back my desire. But my core is throbbing in the way it does only for Luka.
The one man who could completely ruin me.
I can’t let him sweet talk his way into my pants again. No. Modeling contract signed and delivered, then we’ll talk sex.
Luka dips his head to my ear, his hot breath washing over my skin. It’s like our first meeting all over again. “It’s good that you want to fuck me, Brooklyn. It’ll make our relationship look real.”
He takes my chin and tilts it up, and when our eyes lock, I start subconsciously leaning toward him, my lips parting almost without me realizing it.
Fuck, what am I doing?
I jump to my feet and cross my arms. “I was under the impression you needed toclean upyour rep, not dirty it. It’s obvious this arrangement isn’t your main focus. Give me a call if you decide you’re ready to take this seriously. Until then, I’m out.”
Turning away, I grab my purse and storm out of the apartment.
As the elevator doors close me in, I slump against the wall and try to catch my breath.
I did it. I stood up for myself. Great.
But I still fucking want him.
Brooklyn
Chapter 9
