Sex Contract

The waitress left the murder scene with wide-eyed dread. I didn't dare glance around to see who had seen my tremendous climax.

After a minute, Luke King appeared on the opposite side o, appearing calm and unflappable. Still panting, I met his stare and pushed down my skirt. My thighs stroked my pussy, causing aftershocks.

We gazed for a long time. He saved the contract from the spreading red wine.

He handed me the pen without a word.

He viewed me with desire-filled eyes.

I finally paused. I signed away my life.

I sobbed, "I'm an idiot."

Back at home

My best friend Odelia raised an eyebrow and smoked a cigarette.

"You don't care that my life is dying."

"You're not dying. You're married for money."

"Nope. For my mum, I married him." He discovered my Orgasm Button. Odelia only knew the first half. It's embarrassing.

Odelia shrugged, tapping ash into my tray.

"it's okay to marry for money. Yes"

"Yes, I would. I'm poor! And isn't he getting you anywhere in your career?" She pointed to my apartment's corner, where my newest sculpture sat unfinished until I could purchase more clay. I'd had numerous little gallery exhibits and done well, but the larger things took more money and effort than I could do after working 10-hour bar shifts.

Odelia may be right: marrying King might help my career.

He's bringing me to a speciality store in an hour to choose my dress and underwear.

Odelia said, "He's choosing your underpants."

"What sort of marriage?"

I glared. "The kind of marriage you'd expect from a wife-buyer."

She shrugged. She responded, "You can't cook." He could've found a nicer wife in England. She'd be sexier."

"Fuck you," I said. "You're not my best friend anymore."

I was worried since King hadn't mentioned friends or relatives.

Odelia snuffed her cigarette and stood. "When you're wealthy and on the headlines, don't forget the small folks, okay?"

I said "yes."

"Wanna be my hanger-on? I'll accept applications until the honeymoon."

She responded, "Sure!"

"Promise, or I'll tell everyone we know"

Not this time. I was still terrified. I sat up, took several deep breaths, and considered contacting my mom. I hadn't told her about my upcoming wedding .

I could sense her illness in her tired voice whenever we chatted. Overnight, the gap between us widened. Since my father arrived, I couldn't speak to her as I used to, even though we'd always chatted since I was a child. My father's betrayals brought us together, and she was my closest confidante.

I didn't want her to know I was getting married for money until the last minute. Luke King was affluent like my dad. He was a wealthy jerk. I couldn't stand the notion of her believing I was making the same mistake she had-she ordered me to quit our poisonous family and not look back-and I couldn't tell her I was paying for her chemo treatments, because she didn't want me to know.

I massaged my face, groaned, and checked my phone. I had 20 minutes to get to the vehicle and hadn't even showered. I should have gotten up but couldn't. I sat on my futon for ten minutes before I eventually got up, and then I had to hurry through a shower and makeup before putting on clothes when his driver called me and told me they're waiting downstairs.

He grinned and let me in.

Luke King entered.

I hadn't seen him since he licked me at our prenuptial agreement meeting. Persuading me to sign it, he dived beneath the table and penetrated me with his mouth and fingers, causing me to scream in front of everyone, including our server.

Exactly. I loved and loathed it. I'm such a weirdo!

Now Luke King was reading on a tablet in the backseat and ignoring me. My chest whirled with fear and exhilaration until I couldn't tell them apart. I climbed in, chin up. Cole slammed the door behind me, and I hid in the corner, half-hoping King would join me.

Nope.

He seldom spoke to me. When I peeked at his iPad, I saw an unknown report.

Ugh. Just like my father, who always carried his briefcase and Financial Journal-when he was home.

He's a jerk. I was set to marry his twin.

My ardor cooled and I groaned, settling for staring out the window, though I didn't actually see the buildings pass by until the vehicle slowed and I realized we were in Marseille.

Luke King closed his iPad and exited the vehicle beside me. I was astonished when he opened my door. I assumed his servants did it.

Formally, he greeted"Pardon my concern."

When I took his hand, my heart leapt. When his flesh contacted mine, a frisson of desire sent shivers down my spine and warmed my pussy. I couldn't prevent the flush on my cheeks as I suddenly caught my breath.

"Okay," I said. I kicked myself as he helped me out of the car and onto the street. "You're busy,"

He arched an eyebrow. I'd never seen such clarity in someone's eyes.

Or maybe my dumb clit decided. I started babbling. "So was my dad. Even at breakfast, he was always working. In his presence. He always had the paper out and got mad if I interrupted him..."

I didn't want to think about my father while semi-aroused. See? Even when he wasn't there, he ruined things.

"Okay. Whatever. " I mumbled, "I won't bother you."

He didn't even smile.

OMG.  I stared back so I wouldn't be the first to speak. The street emptied around us.

I shattered. "It's good you're marrying me," I said, "because I'll never find anyone else willing to listen to my blather."

At that, he smiled and took my hand in his Victorian-style elbow crook.

"Miss Green," he said, guiding me to the boutique, "you're my wife."

I followed him into the shop, surprised and pleased. I told him, "I have some inane stuff to say." "Are you sure you don't want to retract that?"