On a Fault Line (Forbidden Contract #2)

Chapter 1

1

PENNY

My hand reaches over the silky sheets in search of Collins. They lack the warmth of where he once lay but still bear the indentation of where he was. My inner thighs clench at the reminder of where he has been—multiple times—and where I hope he stays.

I roll to my side, curling my legs and bringing my knees toward my chest. Collins may not think he’s romantic, but he’s nothing short of amazing in my eyes. My body aches with a delicious soreness from his worshipping. Maybe it’s a honeymoon phase or maybe this is just how he commits all-in to a task. Regardless, I’m expecting this arrangement that we are about to make to be beneficial to my goal list—at the very least.

I trust Collins.

I have confidence in him to fulfill my needs but do so without causing me harm.

Despite feeling like I coerced him to even consider this type of relationship, I hope that I too can please him and give him the satisfaction that he would otherwise get from some hookup at the club.

Clutching the sheet under my neck, I revel in the comfort of having no place I need to go and no schedule I am forced to follow, at least for today. Funny thing is—apparently neither does Collins.

If I’m being boring, then so is he.

I am his responsibility.

And keeping him sexually satisfied will soon be mine.

Of course, I also plan to be working more regularly at Plus None. Nothing has really picked up yet with the modeling shoots, so I’ve been immersing myself in the marketing side of the business and loving it so far.

While Angie and Claire swore that my brothers had nothing to do with my hiring, I still wonder if guilt on their part played an important role in the process.

I want to work.

I want to be less bored.

I want to contribute my own earned money to my bank account and not have it magically appear into it—most likely courtesy of Graham and Nic. If anyone lacks discretion when it comes to oversupplying bank accounts, it’s those two.

Money doesn’t grow from trees, but it does grow from a pair of overprotective brothers.

And Collins is made of the same overprotective material, so he’s not any better. He already threatened to add money into my account in the past if I insisted on paying.

That man…

Rolling over in bed, my stomach growls to remind me I haven’t eaten in a while.

I have a box of sugary cereal calling my name back at my place.

Will it still be my place for the duration of our arrangement, or will it just be Luke’s for that time?

Questions of how this all is going to work pop into my head. Yesterday it seemed like such an easy, no-brainer decision, when I was desperate to act on my sexual revolution that Collins repeatedly wanted to block.

Maybe Collins is having regrets?

I glance over at where he should be lying, thinking about the amount of awkwardness that would ensue if he were to back out now—especially after the level of intimacy we had last night.

I definitely know my heart and my self-esteem wouldn’t be able to handle the huge disappointment.

But I wonder… Could things ever go back to how they were before, and he just be my bodyguard?

Rolling off the mattress, I make my way over to the blackout curtains. With just a little push, the sun comes spilling into the room, casting a warm glow on everything it touches.

Collins’s space is immaculately clean. I expect nothing less from someone with obsessive-compulsive tendencies. I won’t be surprised if the contract doesn’t have a clause stating something along the lines of “don’t mess up my shit.”

Why be subtle when you can be direct—I guess? And if Collins is anything—he is direct.

He might not be a man of many words, but at least you know from his scowls and how he rubs at the back of his neck whether he’s grumpy or not.

I meander into the bathroom, enjoying the scent of strawberries that lingers in the air from the freshener. My stomach rumbles again, reminding me that I need to eat. Not seeing my clothes, I exit the room and enter the closet.

Last night is a bit of a blur when it comes to wardrobe, but I vaguely remember wearing Collins’s T-shirt. I doubt he will mind me doing it again.

Plucking a perfectly folded one from the shelf, I slip it over my naked body, enjoying the soft cotton feel against my bare flesh.

I could get used to wearing his clothes. It’s the already worn ones I prefer because they smell of him.

Hair bands rest on top of his dresser, making my lips curl up. I swear these things multiply when they are left unchaperoned. Twisting my hair into a messy bun, I secure it with a band. I pull out some hair from the bun to make it looser and less tight at the top of my head.

I already have a headache starting, but it’s isolated to the back of my brain, which signifies I just need water—and of course, breakfast.

Collins’s place is quiet. I don’t even hear signs of him moving about. Did he leave?

My feet carry me down the hallway, past the living room, and into the kitchen. Standing on my tippy-toes, I stretch up to see if he has any cereal in the cupboard.

I giggle at the lineup of microwave popcorn that definitely wasn’t there a week ago.

Who is this man? I can’t see him being a fan of this type of food but also don’t want to be too presumptuous to think he purchased it with my eclectic appetite in mind.

I shift the perfect row of boxes one by one to see behind them.

And then I feel it…the instinct that I’m not alone.

Whipping my body around, I come face-to-face with Collins who looks…

Angry?

Shocked?

Disappointed?

“You scared me,” I gasp, clutching my chest. “I thought you skipped out or something.” Why is he wearing a suit? A bit formal for a casual breakfast, but what do I know about Collins Stone? Apparently not much. “You left me all alone. I missed?—”

“Get dressed.” His words come out in a two-syllable direct order, causing me to take a physical step backward.

I think he’s in need of some cereal as well. Collins already has a naturally stern disposition, so when you add hangry into the mix—look out.

As much as I want to test my boundaries and see just how far they stretch, I’m not willing to do so if his stomach is empty.

“Let me make you some cereal. I’m really good at it.”

Sheesh. I don’t even get a smirk.

It’s a tough crowd this morning.

Collins’s eyes glide over me, settling on my bare thighs. He takes a few steps forward, shielding my body in his shadowy presence. With purpose, his fingers tug the hem down, trying to conceal more of my exposed legs, I assume.

“Okay, you aren’t a leg man. Got it.”

I turn my head, catching an image of black and white in my vision.

Oh. Shit.

When my eyes register the man dressed in a similar professional looking suit as Collins, I stumble back into the counter.

“Good morning.”

My eyes dart to Collins, who seems to be extra mute today. “I didn’t know we had company.” My words come out as a high-pitched squeak.

“Now you do.”

No wonder he’s so bent out of shape over my lack of a real outfit.

“Who’s the suit?”

“My lawyer handling our contract.”

“Wow, you just have a lawyer on retainer to do your bidding?”

“I…” He seems caught off guard by my bold question. “No…”

“Just how many contracts have you had in your lifetime, Collins?” Then I turn to the strange man standing on the sidelines. “How many contracts has Collins called in your services for?”

The man holds up his hand as a way of providing a nonanswer.

Of course, he wouldn’t throw the man who supplies his salary under the figurative bus.

Guiding my attention back to him, Collins asks, “Are you second-guessing what you have put into motion?”

My lips flatten into a hard line. I have no right to punish Collins for his secretive past when it’s me who suggested becoming another name on his list of conquests.

But why do we need to do this in front of an audience?

“No,” I finally supply after a long pause.

I stand taller, trying to portray confidence, but with Collins’s towering frame shadowing me like an impenetrable building, I start to wonder just how confining this contract will be.

Without another warning, Collins guides me into the guest room where the clothes he already has purchased for me are stored in a closet.

“Please make yourself decent.”

I look down at the shirt I’m currently wearing, feeling a bit sad over his disapproval. “Okay…”

“Penelope?”

I turn my attention to him, feeling the sting of tears hit my eyes. We’ve been here before, and I’m mentally kicking myself for being too damn sensitive. “Hmm?” I look away. I don’t need him to see me cry again.

I feel stupid.

Collins stalks toward me, closing the distance in three long strides. Cupping my chin, he tilts it up so I’m looking directly at him. “You never look more delectable than when you are wearing my clothes, Princess.”

“Oh,” I say breathily.

And then he kisses me—like he already owns me.

“But I don’t want to share even that knowledge with anyone else.”

A smile forms on my lips. “Well, then stop inviting people over without giving me a heads-up.”

“Fair enough. We can put it in the contract.”

“About house guests?”

“No. About you wearing my clothes on a regular basis.”

I laugh. “You really are funnier than…” I don’t know where I’m going with this statement.

“The world sees me?” he provides.

“Yeah.”

Collins grabs an elegant pink wrap dress off a hanger, and I sift through the panty and bra drawer until I find something cute to go underneath it. He’s bought more things for me since the last time, and I can’t help but smile over this little revelation.

“I’ll be moving your items into the master bedroom as soon as you sign the contract. And you’ll also be given an open credit line at all the boutiques in town to shop from at your leisure and without worry over cost.”

“Why the formality?”

Collins stares at me while I get dressed. “Because I function best when I’m in control.” He walks backward to the door leading to the hallway. “I’ll meet you in my office when you are ready to get started.”

“Okay.”

I quickly dress, and then go through my typical morning hygiene routine. I’m careful not to apply too much makeup and upset the beast. The last thing I need is to waste time exfoliating my skin when I accidentally overdo it.

When I feel presentable, I make my way to Collins’s office.

If I didn’t want this so badly, I would be too intimidated by the process alone to continue. It feels like I have been naughty and am getting sent to the principal’s office. Now that there can be a fun fantasy. Surely Angie has a smut book recommendation for that topic.

But who I really want is Collins Stone.

I give a series of knocks to his door, and when I hear the invite, I push it open and enter.

“Good morning, Miss Hoffman,” the lawyer greets again, holding out his hand for shaking. “I’m Leonard Copnisky. I’ll be handling your contract today.”

“Thank you, Mr. Copnisky. I assume you are well experienced in handling all of Collins’s contracts with the ladies.”

He clears his throat just as Collins seems to be choking on his tongue.

“This is my first.”

“Oh?” My eyes look to Collins, confused.

“I never cared about all the details as much as I care about them with you. Now, please take a seat, Penelope,” Collins instructs, pulling out a chair for me from in front of his desk.

Leonard sits beside me in another armchair, clearly amused.

I take a look around the office, as if really seeing it for the first time. It’s pristine, polished, and impersonal—just as I first pegged Collins to be—so it’s fitting.

“Here is the contract that Mr. Stone has proposed.” Leonard hands me the folder that contains a thick packet. “Please look over the clauses, and if in agreement, sign the last page’s dotted line.”

I flip through the stapled document, looking at the numbers on the bottom. “This is twenty-six pages long.”

Collins clears his throat. “It is.”

“That seems excessive.”

“I assure you, it’s not.”

“Well, I’m not sure a glance at these documents would happen in the next five minutes. I need time to make sure I’m not getting ripped off.”

Collins gives me the look . “I would never cheat you, Penelope.”

I make a face. “I just want to make sure my needs are going to be taken care of over the next”—I skim through the pages until I find the location of the time frame—“one hundred days.”

“What do you need in order to move forward with the contract?” Leonard asks.

“I need time to read it. Surely you can give me that—yes?”

“Yes,” the lawyer complies. “Of course. How about I return in an hour? Is that sufficient time?”

I nod. “Thank you.”

Leonard exits the office space.

“You have an awful lot of monitors in here for someone whose main job is to be a bodyguard.”

Collins eyes me suspiciously. “I never thought I’d see the day where my bulldog of a lawyer gets intimidated by my soon-to-be”—a sparkle hits his eyes—“cum slut.”

“Eww”—I playfully stick out my tongue—“don’t call me that.”

Clearly he is joking, which I’m still getting used to. “I am just using the title you once told me.”

“Maybe I was horned up and hungry…”

“Maybe…”

“Or was I under the influence of fun and fruity drinks from Limit-X?”

“Probably. Those two things definitely help you lose all inhibition.”

I shrug. “Being your little cum slut does have a nice ring to it though.”

Collins’s eyes darken. “Keep it up with the innocent flirting, and you won’t need a contract to protect you from me.”

I wave the document into the air. “I’m going to need space from you to read this monstrosity of a contract. Why you need twenty-six pages to tell me to obey and me to tell you to fuck me will always be a great mystery.”

“I’d rather you be fully prepared for my expectations.”

“You said you had three rules.”

“I do.”

“How about I exchange your three rules for my three holes?”

Ignoring my question, Collins sighs. “There are some things that need to be described in detail.”

“Sounds boring.”

He narrows his eyes at me and then when he realizes I’m joking, he shakes his head.

“I’m going to give you time alone to read at your pace. Feel free to make notes of anywhere you have questions, and we can discuss it.”

“Okay,” I say, watching as Collins leaves his office, gently shutting the door.

As soon as I’m alone, I take up shop on the leather sofa that rests along the side of his office, propping up my feet onto the cushions and getting myself comfortable.

I can already tell by the size of this contract that this is going to be intense, and it’s best I understand every detail.

This document holds more than just rules. It is basically a window into Collins’s psyche.

And understanding that man more is an amazing perk to this entire operation.

So I absorb myself into reading—every written word.

* * *

If there is a singular moment in time where I’m faced with a choice that can change my entire life, it is now. I thought it was when I had put my trust in my abuser, Mark Tanner, but I was wrong.

Choosing between what my brothers would want and what I want is the real turning point.

It’s a line I know will have devastating consequences if crossed and caught, and yet I can’t help myself from taking that leap.

I am fucking tired of doing what others expect of me. I am tired of denying my heart what it truly wants.

So for once, I am choosing me.

I am choosing my happiness over anyone else’s.

And I am choosing my horniness.

Grabbing the pen, I sign away the next one hundred days to Collins Stone.

And as soon as the final curve of my signature presses onto the document, a sense of relief floods me.

I did it.

I made the choice.

And it feels fucking good.

To celebrate, I do what anyone in my position would do—I snoop.

Rushing behind Collins’s desk, I try every drawer. Seriously, why must he lock up everything fun?

I jiggle a couple of cabinet doors, finding them all secure.

“You really couldn’t help yourself, could you?”

“Shit.” My heart is in my throat.

Turning back, I see Collins taking up the entire doorframe. Just a glance at him, and I’m busting out laughing. “I was just?—”

“Taking advantage of an opportunity to snoop?”

“Never,” I lie.

“Penelope, I would never allow you to have access to a space that could potentially cause you harm. I’m not that careless.”

“Harm?”

“Yes, harm.”

What is he talking about? “How so?”

“Let’s just say that I do a lot more at my job than just bodyguard.”

I make an O shape with my lips. “You kill people.”

“I relocate bodies when necessary. It doesn’t happen often. However, it is part of my job, but I think deep down you already knew this about me.”

I nod slowly. I know how much danger my brothers have been in the last couple of years. And it all started when Mark Tanner decided to drug me for his own sick purposes while I was looking at modeling in college.

“I know we don’t talk about that part of your life. But I wanted to thank you for taking care of my brothers and Angie and Claire. Those people are my world, and you have protected them countless times. And I never really showed—” I choke on the tears I’m trying to hold back, and Collins is on me, scooping me up and cradling me to his chest.

“It is an honor to provide that protection. And no matter what happens with this contract, I will always want what is best for you.”