9. The Negotiator

“Lucky for you,this isn’t about love or vows. It’s just a simple business arrangement,” Honey insisted, and held the contract out to me again.

Curiosity overcame me, and I couldn’t stop my stupid self. I took it.

“This has to be an inch thick.” I thumbed through the pages.

“Right. Have a seat. I’ll fix you a drink and give you some time alone to read it.”

“Honey…”

“Please, Buddy. You’re my only hope.” With enormous eyes, she sure knew how to work me over all too well this early in the game.

Fuck me. This woman’s problems had nothing to do with my life, but here I was, sitting down and opening to the first page.

“Coffee, black, two sugars,” I instructed before she could reach for alcohol. Although a stiff drink would certainly help me in this awkward situation.

“Yes! I’ll get that for you right away.”

She left the room, giving me a moment’s peace to think about things. Man, if my old friend Daniel could see me now. He’d talk some sense into me and help me stay strong in saying no to this ridiculous idea of hers. Without him here, my willpower weakened by the second.

There was a reason we took that vow never to marry. Being opposed to marriage wasn’t exactly the issue. More like fear over losing someone I loved again.

When Honey returned with the coffee, I gulped down half of it, as if to tamp down the past from being dredged up again.

She busied herself, coming and going from her office. Each time, she asked me how it was going. An hour later, I was ready to face her again.

“Question. If I don’t agree to this, is my project still moving forward?” I finished flipping through the contract and tossed it on the desk behind her. I understood what’s in it for her, but what about me? If I broke my vow to never marry, then it’d better be for a damn good reason.

“Fair question. It’s a great script, truly. It has been green lighted, so as long as you and I reach an arrangement, it’ll move into development.” Her blue eyes had a way of appearing so innocent, but I could tell behind that facade was a woman willing to do anything to get what she wanted. Was she so afraid to just be herself?

Her answer wasn’t a definitive yes or no. “Why do I feel like you’re blackmailing me into getting what you want?”

She clicked her tongue and fidgeted with her ring. “Tsk. Blackmail is such a nasty word. Buddy, you have nothing to lose. The marriage isn’t real. You can go back to your regular life after the contract has ended. Your film will get made. Hell, I’ll even introduce you to colleagues in the business and give you a leg up in case you write another stellar script.”

I raised a brow. “The marriage isn’t real, you say, but won’t we be expected to keep up appearances?”

“Of course. There’ll be events to attend, red carpets and paparazzi to pose for together, and?—”

“Holding hands? Gazing lovingly into your eyes? Kissing? Fucking?” With my extra, sinful emphasis on the last word, her cheeks turned pink and my cock twitched. I could already tell this woman would drive me to the brink of insanity to have her. “How intimate are your expectations, Honey?”

She crossed her arms, as if that’d keep me from pursuing this line of questioning further. “Public displays of affection, for sure.”

“And behind closed doors?”

“Off-limits.”

“Strictly?”

“Completely.”

“Why?”

“Too much involvement gets messy.”

“Okay. So, I can get my rocks off with other?—”

“No! No cheating.” That got her back up.

I smirked at her instant reply. “That goes for both of us.”

“Yes, of course.”

“So let me get this straight. You want me as your husband until the day your stepfather passes away, at which point you’ll inherit everything. Meanwhile, my movie will get made, but you expect me to be celibate?”

“Yes.”

“And exactly what is the life-expectancy of Cal Tomms?” I step forward, closer, until I practically bathed in the scents of her pheromones and designer perfume.

“I-I don’t know. Until a few months ago, I would have said years. But now, after his recent heart attack and prognosis, it won’t be long. Do you think you could stand not fucking around like a playboy for a while?” She huffed and rolled her eyes, but clearly my nearness had an effect on her.

“I think there’s one benefit you haven’t thought of.” Another step, and I closed the gap between us.

She swallowed hard and leaned back, her chest rising and falling. At her neck, just beneath the surface of her smooth skin, her pulse visibly thumped. “I can’t imagine a single thing my lawyer has left out of the contract.”

I crowded her, forcing her ass to hit the desk, my hands lodging on the edges on each side of her. So close, our breaths mingled. “Let’s call this the Buddy Addendum. If you want me to do this, then I’ll require your regular attention—in bed.”

“What? I’m not your damn whore.”

“No. But you’ll be my wife. And as such, I expect you to treat my cock like a king. Of course, your pussy will be my queen.” I leaned into her neck and planted kisses along her tender skin there, smiling inwardly at her breath hitching and the sound of a soft a moan. But the deal wasn’t done yet.

I backed away and cleared my throat, adjusting my tie tighter. “I’ve read your terms, now you have mine. Do we have a deal?”

I held out my hand to shake hers and waited, shocked at my willingness to break my long-standing vow for some honey-coated piece of ass.

She ignored it like an obstinate child, plumping her nose into the air, hinting at the brat she must have been growing up. “Before I agree, I need more details.”

“Such as?” I dropped my hand.

“Size?” Her eyes bounced down to my groin and back up.

The corner of my lips slid up, and I gifted her with my best Scottish brogue accent. “Rodgers’ men have always had plenty to offer under their kilts with ne’er a complaint, lass.”

She blinked in rapid succession and at least chuckled. “What was that?”

“Sometimes I let my inner Scotsman out. Get used to it. I may even grace you with our family tartan if you’re a very good girl.”

Her cheeks reddened further. I rather liked this effect I was having on her.

“Any other questions? The size of my balls—huge. The length of my cock—plenty to fill you with. My tongue can?—”

“Stop. I get it.” She held her hands up. “So you think you’re an amazing lover and you want sex a couple of times a week? Fine. I’m sure I can suffer through it.” She stepped by me toward the door, but I caught her and swung her around to face me, cupping her behind the neck.

“Oh no, Honey, there’ll be no suffering. Only pleasure, and as often as we damn well want it. Because I promise you, once you’ve had me, you’ll be begging for more.”

I brushed my lips along hers, only to tease, to promise more to come. But her mouth opened against mine, the tips of our tongues meeting in the middle. The taste of her opened memories of a love past, of claiming a woman as mine.

Only with Honey, it wouldn’t last. I didn’t let that prevent me from taking the kiss deeper, though, dancing my tongue with hers. Claiming her, even if only temporarily.

When I eased back, her eyelashes lazily fluttered up at me, and I almost thought I’d have to perform CPR to get her breathing again.

I let her go with a playful smack on her sweet rump, sending her to toward the door. She stopped there without turning back. “Fine. My lawyers will send you the addendum and I expect the signed agreement on my desk in the morning. Our first appearance is tomorrow at Cal’s, so you’d better get ready for the performance of your life.”

Too bad. I’d have handwritten the addendum and signed the entire thing and carted her off to bed tonight, but no. A little game might be fun, one where I toy with her until she finally begs me for sex.

After all, this wasn’t about love. No real vows involved. This was purely a contract, a convenient arrangement with benefits. Nothing more. In time, my film would get made, and I’d learn all I could about the film industry, and see where it takes me. If Honey wanted to use me, well, I’d use her right back.