Adored (Masters and Mercenaries #8.5)(25)

“I simply think it’s best that we keep our relationship private.” Maybe he shouldn’t have sent her for her paralegal certification. He doubted the sweet office manager would have boldly marked out his clauses.

“Babe, there’s no such thing. Maybe if we were having an affair that we intended to keep brief and unemotional we could, but I’m going to give this thing a go. I want to see if we can make it work, and that means I’ll talk to my sisters and my friends and you should definitely talk to yours. You don’t have to be an island, Mitch.”

It was one clause and they were negotiating. “All right. I’ll agree to lose that requirement. Do you agree to the communication protocols?”

“Yes, I will text you if I’m going to be out of pocket for more than thirty minutes. I will make every attempt to return your call within an hour and will allow you to track my phone because you’re a paranoid weirdo.”

“That’s five smacks. Did you not read the clause where you’re forbidden from calling me a paranoid weirdo?”

She started combing through the contract. “No. I didn’t see that.”

He chuckled. “I was kidding, Laurel. I can joke, too. I need the comfort of routine, but I’m not so insecure I can’t handle your smart mouth. All big decisions that concern both of us have to be discussed. I’ve got a schedule that we can also discuss and agree upon. If it helps, you can track my phone, too. I’ll leave you a list of my passwords.”

“I already have those. I was your office manager for six months. I take it when you say decisions that concern both of us, you’re talking about me making changes to the house. Because I already want to do that.”

She always wanted to change things. “No. I’m not moving on that. This is my house. Maybe if we get married we can discuss certain renovations to rooms that are yours, but I think it’s best we have our own spaces.”

“You don’t want to sleep with me?”

That was not going to happen. “What? No. That’s totally in there. We share a bedroom. We sleep together and you can’t kick me out without good cause. I was talking about my office and my media room. I like them the way they are. You can have the living room and the kitchen and the guestroom. If we get married. I don’t know. We’ll have to negotiate again.”

Laurel huffed, an irritated sound, and then signed the document. “Fine. Here is your contract. I can see we have a lot of negotiating to do. I want a pretty collar. One I can wear during the day. I’ll wear a more pronounced one when we’re at Sanctum, but I want pretty and delicate for daywear.”

She placed the contract on the table between them. She was demanding a collar. Of course, he’d covered that in the contract. He’d actually stated that she was to wear any collar he deemed fit for her, but shouldn’t she like it? He wanted to please her.

“I’ll let you pick your day collar. I get to pick your club collar and all your clothes for Sanctum.”

“Agreed.”

Fuck, he was hard. The idea that she was going to be with him at Sanctum made his cock pulse against his slacks. She would wear his collar, live in his home, let him take care of her.

She would devastate him when she left.

He shoved that thought aside. The truth was he couldn’t push her away. They were having a baby and that baby would be a more permanent tie than any contract. He wasn’t going to walk out on his kid. He wasn’t going to toss money the kid’s way and hope Laurel took care of him.

“How much have you learned?” He had to get out of that dangerous headspace. Thoughts like that could send him into dark places, and he wasn’t going there with her. She was his responsibility now and he had the paperwork to prove it. He had to be in the moment with her. That was what he would do. He would live in the here and now and not worry about the future or brood over the past. Now was truly all the time they had anyway.

“About D/s? I’ve been reading a lot. Mostly Bridget’s and Serena’s and Chris’s books, but they’re all in the lifestyle.”

“Yes, but they write a highly romanticized version of the lifestyle. How much real training have you had?”

“I’ve been to the classes Eve and Grace teach to new submissives and I’ve done some work with the married Doms, but nothing serious since someone decided he didn’t want me working with Master T.”

What the hell had Tag been thinking? The idea of her working with that dangerous Southerner…no. He wasn’t going there. He was being in the present. “So most of what you know is intellectual.”

“Yes.”

“Why don’t you show me how the submissives in Bridget’s books greet their Doms. I think it would be a nice ritual after being apart for long periods. Something for me to look forward to.”

“You would, wouldn’t you? You would look forward to me greeting you at the end of the day.”

Maybe that made him a pervert, but it was true. It would be the best part of his day. “Yes.”

She stood up, setting the contract down beside her mug. She moved from behind the coffee table and sank down to her knees, her head dropping forward. Her knees spread and she placed her palms flat on her thighs. “Welcome home, Sir.”

That wouldn’t do. “I hardly think that’s how Bridget wrote it. I know Will allows her to run wild, but he has his rules, too, and he would never allow Bridget to greet him like that.”