Chapter Two #3
After a few minutes of perusing the fine print of the first contract, Carter seemed satisfied. We signed three copies — one for each of us, and one that would eventually be the legally binding, notarized version.
“And where exactly is our notary?” Carter asked, finally trying his wine. He hummed his approval, and I internally smiled. The man clearly had good taste — in wine and women.
“I have one on standby who works with discretion.”
“And one who doesn’t mind bending the rules, I gather, since I’m pretty sure they’re supposed to witness us signing. And there should be disinterested witnesses, too, no?”
“Leave the how of it all to Mommy, mmkay?” I purred, twirling the pen around my knuckles. “The rich have been signing shady deals in penthouses for centuries. We’re just keeping tradition alive.”
Carter snorted, but he let it go. He moved on to the second contract — slimmer, more intimate in nature. And when he saw the title at the top, his brows shot up.
“Personal Performance Improvement Plan or (P-PIP),” he read aloud, voice skeptical. I had to fight back a laugh as he frowned, and then his eyes floated up to meet mine. “This doesn’t seem legal, despite your clever title here.”
“It’s not,” I said. “Well, not entirely. Parts of it are legally binding — like the NDA, the exclusivity clause, the termination terms, and the financial agreements. But the rest?” I shrugged. “It’s symbolic. It sets the tone.”
“Symbolic,” he echoed.
“It creates structure. Anticipation. Power exchange. You follow it because you agreed to, not because I’ll sue you if you safe word out when you see a nipple clamp.”
He gaped at me.
“Kidding,” I said, leaning back and crossing my legs as I lifted my wine glass to my lips. “Or am I?”
Carter flipped through the pages, his gaze narrowed at me like he was really trying to decide if I’d bring out my nipple clamps.
Jury was still out on that one.
“There’s a safe word?”
“Words, actually. High stick.” I smirked at the irony.
“You say those words, everything stops — play ends just like it would on the ice, and we have a clean slate. You say Offside, it’s a sign that I’ve crossed a line, but you’re still okay to keep playing.
In that case, I ease up. You say nothing…
” I shrugged, tilting my glass to my lips.
“And I assume you’re enjoying yourself.”
“Hockey terms,” he said, not as a question but more as a humored assessment.
“Didn’t want to confuse you too much. Figured it was best to speak your language.”
“Do you think they’ll really be necessary?”
“My goal is to teach you how to take charge with the woman of your choosing eventually. But first, you will relinquish control to me. I teach by example. So… it’s possible.
” I said with a shrug. “If you want to be not just adequate in bed but incredible? Then we’re going to be exploring a lot more than just how to find the hole. ”
Carter bit his bottom lip on a laugh, nodding to the papers in his hand. “And this part — the ‘try before you deny’ clause?”
“You attempt everything once before you’re allowed to turn it down. I get full creative control. You get full use of your voice and boundaries.” I tilted my head. “It’s meant to be a fun, educational experience, not a hostage situation.”
“Why do I have a feeling that your version of fun will be much different than mine?”
“Scared already? There’s still time to back out.”
“No,” Carter said immediately, shaking his head. “No way in hell I’m backing out of this. I’m still shocked I got you to agree at all.”
“Trust me — that makes two of us. And don’t be so sure to say there’s no way in hell. You haven’t read the next clause.”
Carter frowned, returning his attention to the contract. I continued sipping my wine and watching him. Already, my wheels were turning with all the ways I could make him bend and squirm, all the ways I could bring him pleasure that he didn’t even know he liked yet.
“This part that says I’m obligated to come when you call?”
“Any time, for any reason. I will, of course, respect your obligations to the team. But past that, if I want you? You’re mine. And that isn’t the part I think you may take issue with.”
Carter continued reading, and then smirked, tapping the back of his pen to the page.
“Ah. Participant agrees to remain monogamous for the duration of this agreement, unless otherwise authorized by Doctor Young.” He tongued his cheek, eyes sparkling a bit when they met mine.
“So, I need your permission to sleep with anyone else?”
“If you want to keep this arrangement, yes. I don’t share my toys unless I choose to.”
The flush of his cheeks was so goddamn pretty.
It had the blood in my veins sizzling, the desire to top him nearly too much to contain now.
I may have never seen this agreement coming, I may have never imagined I’d give Carter Fabri the chance to warm my sheets, and I may have still had reservations about whether he could handle what I planned to give him.
But fuck if I wasn’t excited to find out.
He was hot — even if he felt like a stone in my shoe half the time. I knew he had a body sculpted by years of playing professional hockey under that suit of his, and any hetero woman — me included — would be excited to have all-access to peruse it.
This was the buzz being in control gave me. The wine paled in comparison to the kind of high that came from knowing I could do whatever I wanted to this willing man sitting across from me.
“It’s not about possessiveness,” I clarified.
“I have no intention of having any sort of relationship with you past being your professor. This is about teaching you how to pleasure a woman — and how to get her in the position where she would even agree to let you try. But that clause is for health reasons. Which brings us to the next point.”
Carter flipped the page, then read aloud again. “All physical contact and training activities are contingent on the completion of a full STD panel, updated within the past fourteen days, as well as a physical exam to ensure the participant is cleared for rigorous activity.”
He barked out a laugh, his grin wide as he looked up at me.
When I didn’t mirror the sentiment, his smile fell.
“You’re serious?” He blinked. “I mean, I get the STD part, but I play professional hockey. I think I’m more than cleared for rigorous activity.”
“I think you’ll find that some of our scenes will vastly outpace three periods of skating around on the ice, Rookie.”
I smirked, tapping the next part of the contract.
“And you’ll see here that I am on birth control, but just to be extra cautious, we will avoid sexual intercourse whenever I am near my ovulation window.”
“You really thought of everything.” Carter shook his head, but he dragged his teeth over his bottom lip at the same time, his eyes alight with curiosity. “Fine. I’ll get into the doctor first thing.”
“Good boy,” I praised.
His nostrils flared, and this time, I couldn’t help myself.
I leaned forward, abandoning my wine glass on the table before my hand snaked beneath its surface. I found his knee, sliding my index finger over the smooth, luxurious fabric of his slacks before I walked my fingertips up along the seam.
Carter kept his gaze on mine, feigning that he wasn’t aroused or scared or interested in the slightest, but his body betrayed him in every way. He slouched a little in his chair, his thick thighs widening to allow me better access as I slowly trailed my touch higher.
“You like when I call you a good boy,” I whispered. “Don’t you, Rookie?”
He wet his lips, refusing to answer. I slid my palm over his hard cock with a firm pressure, enough to make him groan and rock into my touch, his head falling back and eyes fluttering shut.
“Say it.”
“I like it,” he breathed.
He was big. Even through his slacks, I could tell. I wouldn’t have cared either way — it was more about what he could do with his cock rather than the size of it. But it’d be more fun for me to play with a well-endowed student, and inside, I was salivating at the thought.
On the outside, I was a cold, level-faced Domme.
“You like what?”
I wrapped my hand around his shaft.
And then I squeezed, hard, tight enough to make Carter transition from a panting moan into a wince and hiss.
“I like when you call me a good boy.”
“What’s that?” I squeezed a bit harder.
“I like when you call me a good boy!”
I grinned, releasing him, but not before I rewarded him with a soothing stroke. He was still panting as I sat back in my chair, reaching for my wine glass.
“Then let’s finish this, and perhaps I’ll consider bending that doctor-approval rule in order to have a little fun tonight.”
Carter looked as desperate as I wanted him to be as he quickly scanned the rest of the pages, and then he scribbled his signature fast and messy before sliding the pages to me.
“No more questions?” I asked.
“Not at the moment.”
I carefully scrawled my own signature. “Well then, Mr. Fabri,” I said. “Are you ready for your first lesson?”
He swallowed, voice cracking when he asked, “Now?”
I shrugged, standing slowly and noting how his gaze followed the gold chain that disappeared under my blouse. “Unless you need a week to prepare,” I teased, tilting my head. “Do you want to carb load? Watch video? Get a pep talk from Coach?”
Carter stood a little too fast, knocking his thigh against the edge of the table. “No! Shit, that hurt,” he said, rubbing the spot. His cock was still hard, pitching a tent against his slacks.
Why did I find it so fucking endearing that he wasn’t the least bit embarrassed to be so eager?
“No,” he repeated, schooling his expression. “I’m ready.”
I grinned.
“Oh, Rook,” I said, circling the table slowly, heels clicking with each predatory step I took. “You have no idea how not ready you are.”