The Millionaire's Proposition

Cupboard opening…clacking of a glass on the kitchen counter.

‘Two nights per week,’ she said.

Fridge door opening…closing. ‘What if I want more?’

‘Two per week is the minimum. We can negotiate additional days as required.’

He was pouring. ‘Okay. Next.’

‘Any costs incurred in pursuit of mutual sexual pleasure to be split fifty-fifty.’

He was back with his wine. ‘I can live with that.’

‘No public displays of affection.’

He was sitting. ‘Done,’ he said. ‘Nauseating stuff, PDAs.’

‘No kissing unless it’s sex-related.’

Scott held up a ‘stop’ hand. ‘Hang on. When is kissing between an unrelated man and woman ever not sex-related?’

She was blushing—she could feel it. Because this was an embarrassing clause. It presupposed he would want to kiss her outside of sex. But kisses led to affection. And trouble lay down that road. So, embarrassing or not, it was best to have it covered in advance.

‘I mean no kisses hello, goodbye—that sort of thing,’ she said. ‘Only kisses that lead to or are the result of sex.’

Scott looked at her mouth for a long moment. She thought he was going to object. But then he shrugged.

‘Okay,’ he said. ‘Go on.’

‘Fantasies,’ Kate said, and felt the blush deepen.

‘We get fantasies?’ Scott asked reverently. ‘Yee-ha!’

Kate rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. ‘I thought you’d like that part of the deal. There are still rules, however. I’m suggesting a start phrase—if one or the other of us decides to enact a fantasy, a text message with “Play Time” is all that’s required—along with the date, time and place. And, of course, any outfits, devices and accessories will be provided by the fantasy’s owner.’

‘If you could see inside my mind…’

Kate laughed. ‘I’m sure I’ll be seeing what’s inside it very soon. But in addition to a start phrase we’ll need a trigger word which, when said, will stop the activity should one of us become uncomfortable with what’s happening.’

‘Why not just “stop”?’

‘Because that might be part of the fantasy—either a version of “stop” or “don’t stop”. Or it could mean “pause” or “wait” just as easily as it could mean “no more”. Better to have something unambiguous. Like…maybe…a name? Something that couldn’t be mistaken for anything else and wouldn’t have anything to do with sex.’

Scott smiled—a particularly cool smile that made his eyes look like ice. ‘Let’s go with “Hugo”, in that case,’ he said.

‘Hugo?’

‘I can assure you that will stop me in my tracks.’

‘Fine,’ Kate agreed. ‘I don’t know any Hugos, so it won’t be confusing for me.’

‘What else?’ Scott asked, hands clenching and unclenching with impatience.

‘We’re up to confidentiality. The details of this contract must remain confidential.’

‘Okay. Are we done?’

‘Last point. Fidelity is assumed—’

‘Absolutely,’ Scott agreed promptly. ‘I don’t share.’

‘I haven’t finished. Fidelity is assumed, but should an unforeseen sexual encounter occur with someone other than the two parties covered by the agreement—if you or I—’

‘Yes,’ he interrupted. ‘I know what you mean. If you sleep with someone other than me; if I do someone other than you…’

‘Yes. If that happens it must be confessed prior to the resumption of any contracted sexual activity between us.’

But it seemed Scott had reached his limit.

He whipped the pages out of Kate’s hand, grabbed the pen, flipped to the final clause, scratched out some words, added something and initialled the changes.

‘That’s my input,’ he said. ‘No infidelity or the contract is null and void.’

Kate thought about insisting that it remain, because fidelity was for real relationships and this was not one of those—but in all honesty it was a relief. She’d seen too much of the aftermath of infidelity to be sanguine about it under any circumstances.

So…‘All right,’ she said. ‘Should one of us seek our pleasure elsewhere, the agreement is broken.’

‘You won’t need to look elsewhere, Katie. I’ll keep you so busy you’ll be begging for a break.’

He picked up the pen again, ready to sign.

‘Wait,’ Kate said, snatching the pen from him before he could put it to paper. She licked nervously at her top lip. ‘Scott, I think you should read the contract properly before you sign. You’ve found one clause you didn’t like—there may be some wording that’s unclear, or something else you’re uncomfortable with when you have time to think about it. And I don’t want to feel like I’m taking advantage of your youth.’

Scott’s eyes narrowed. ‘I’m twenty-seven—not stupid,’ he said. ‘And I hope we’re not going to waste a lot of time talking about my age. Otherwise I’ll be calling “Play Time” pretty damned fast and spanking you—and that’s not even a fantasy of mine.’

‘Not? Really?’

‘Really. Not into pain—giving or receiving.’

‘No spanking. Got it. Good. But, back on topic, you’re not as experienced with the law as I am, so—’

‘Boring subject. And not germane—there’s a lawyer word for you, to prove that not all twenty-seven-year-olds are ignorant morons. I just love lawyer words.’

‘Yes, but—’

‘Am I deeding my firstborn child to you?’

‘No.’