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Chapter Twelve

Rebecca

Bennett Ashby was as frustrating as trying to scoop out frozen ice cream straight from the container. Unfortunately, he was also just as appealing as the smooth, cold taste of that same ice cream sliding down your throat. After I’d shared too much on Thursday, gave him too large a glimpse into my life, I went home bound and determined to forget he was anything other than my employer.

He couldn’t charm me or tease me. He couldn’t affect me.

I was stronger than anything he could throw at me. Then Friday happened and he tossed me into a whirlwind. Actually, all he had to do was touch me to get my insides swirling in a massive ball of confusion and desire.

Hours after the ribbon cutting ceremony, where he’d thrown praise at me in a way I didn’t know he was capable of, and the brush of his fingers on my arm and hand still lingered.

Just like the scent of him remained on my sheets even though they’d been washed.

Perhaps he was simply unforgettable.

But a girl could try, and I was one determined woman. I was strong enough to escape an abusive household and a manipulative mom. I could do this.

Then I’d walked into my office and picked up the file he left for me on my chair. Assuming it was just any file, any work he wanted me to do which would no doubt force me to stay late at the office, I cursed it before slapping it onto my desk and diving right in.

Only, it wasn’t a proposal or a request to review financials. It wasn’t anything work-related at all.

It was a contract, and not the kind of contractual agreement I’d signed when I was promoted.

Nope. Sexual Contract Between Parties was printed in giant bold font right across the top of the page just below two larger and glaringly bolded words “Dominant/submissive”

Of all the arrogant, self-centered, selfish—I growled, closed the file, and left the office like a pack of wolves was nipping at my heels.

That damn arrogant asshole thinking he could toss that on my desk without saying anything. But what could he say? My answer was unequivocally, absolutely, without hesitation, hell no.

So why’d you bring it home with you instead of throwing it out.

When I pulled into my driveway, another surprise slammed right into me.

Miranda jumped off her perch on my front stoop and met me at my car as I was exiting, file folder burning my fingertips.

“We’re going out. Girls’ night. No arguments. Shawn’s rack of lamb can wait awhile.”

“I want Netflix and sleep.” I headed toward my front door, her heels clicking on the cement.

“Too bad.” She grabbed my hand and pulled me toward my front door. “You’ve been moping all week and we’re kicking you out of your rut.” She took the file from me and flipped it open before I could stop her. Not that I could, Miranda was pretty much an unstoppable force when she had an idea in her head. “Ohhh, what’s this?”

Her eyes widened and she looked up at me, grinning.

I rolled my eyes and opened the door. “Bennett’s new, dumbass idea.”

“I like it.” She slapped the file closed and followed me into my house. “Did you sign it?”

“I haven’t even looked at it,” I muttered, tossing my keys onto my table. I pulled my hair off my neck and dropped it again. “I really, don’t feel like going out tonight, Miranda. Can I take a raincheck?”

“Nope. Something tells me, especially after you see this—” She waved the file and tossed it onto the table. “You need a girls’ night more than ever. So we’re going. The Wasted Bull has a band tonight and we need to get out.” She was already dressed. Skinny jeans, cuffed at the bottoms, showed off her heeled, tan ankle boots. Her top was a cute flannel plaid, knotted at the waist.

“Wasted Bull?” Damn her. My interested was piqued. I loved that place.

“Yup. Come on. We’re meeting people there and you can talk to me all about your week at work and why Bennett gave you that contract. Last I heard, he hadn’t claimed a sub in a long time, like years.”

Ice cream. Netflix. Chinese food delivered. It was all I wanted.

But perhaps I needed what Miranda was offering. A night to unwind and kick back and release all the stress of the week.