You have terms. What are they? What exactly do you want?

It's a complicated question.

For the last three years, I've been surviving. I haven't let myself want anything more than a roof over my head and three hot meals a day.

It's overwhelming, opening myself up to possibilities.

I press my palm against the window. It's cold. Sleek. Unbending. "What would we even be doing?"

His hand brushes my shoulders. Then my cheek. He tilts my chin so we're eye to eye. "I'll introduce you to everyone as my girlfriend. We'll get engaged. Then we'll have a quick wedding. You'll be on my arm at dinners, for weekend trips, at some family functions."

"How am I supposed to convince people I'm in love with you? I don't even know what that looks like."

"Look into my eyes."

I do.

"Like you love me."

Okay… I try to imagine a guy I'll love one day. A real husband. Him hanging my art on the walls, much to my embarrassment. Taking me up to the top of the Empire State Building on my birthday. Kissing me under the cherry blossom trees.

"Perfect."

It is? I'm just thinking… but I'm not going to talk myself out of a huge chunk of change. Still— "I don't want to lie to anyone, much less everyone."

His eyes are on fire. "My intentions are good."

"That and three dollars will buy you a cup of coffee."

"You have integrity."

"Is that a compliment or an insult?"

"What do you think?"

I don't know. He's intense. Hard to read. Appealing.

I finish my last drop of gin and tonic then unbutton my coat. Blake slides it off my shoulders and takes it into his arms.

He leads me back to his office and hangs it on his door.

The space seems smaller.

He's too close.

But then, I want him closer.

I want his body pressed against mine.

"Why do you need me?" I might be talking him out of this, but I have to know. "Why not find some girl who wants to be your girlfriend?"

"That wouldn't be fair."

"Because…"

"She'd have expectations." He slides his suit jacket off his shoulders. "I don't fall in love. I never have, and I never will."

"How old are you?"

"Twenty-six."

"And you're already sure you'll never fall in love?"

"Yes."

Okay… I guess I'm not going to argue with him. He knows what he wants. I know what I want. And that doesn't include falling for an emotionally unavailable rich guy.

He takes my glass and pours another round of drinks.

I sit on the plush couch and watch him roll his sleeves to his elbows. His forearms are so fucking sexy. How can forearms make me this hot?

I take a deep breath.

Blake moves back to the couch. He hands over my drink and sits next to me. "What are your terms?"

God, it's so hot next to him. My body is buzzing. It's begging me to strip out of this dress and slide into his lap.

But that's lust.

I can survive six months of lust.

Hell, I really, really want six months of lust.

"The mortgage to my apartment." I take a deep breath, attempting my best I'm as badass and confident as any tech executive voice. "I want it paid in full."

"Done." He says it like he's agreeing to coffee.

"You don't even know how much is left on it. What if it's three hundred thousand dollars? Or half a million?"

"Send me the bank information, and it's done."

"Like that?"

He nods. "What else?"

I struggle to form a coherent thought. The mortgage, done, like it's nothing.

That can't be possible. That payment has been a thorn in my side for the last three years and it will be gone. Done.

"My sister got into NYU. She's worked hard to keep her grades up. She deserves to go to whatever school she chooses without six figures of student loans."

"Elizabeth?"

"Lizzy. You…"

"She's your friend on Facebook. I didn't look you up, Kat. Not beyond the normal search."

I'm not sure we agree about what constitutes a normal search. But it's not like I can talk.

"Sterling Tech selects scholarship students every year. She placed in a math competition last year. Is she studying STEM?"

"You don't know?"

"Not yet."

I nod. "Computer science or programming. I forget the difference. She wants to study artificial intelligence."

"Done."

"What?"

"We'll offer your sister a scholarship. A hundred percent of her tuition anywhere."

What? I… I must be hearing things. "You…"

"I can make it official right now."

"No, that's okay…" A hundred percent of her tuition. Covered. "What if I say no?"

"You won't." His hand brushes mine. It sends heat racing through my body. "Is there anything else?"

No. That's all I want. It's all I've wanted— Lizzy taken care of.

But I can't admit that. Not when I can get more.

"I… I want to go to college too."

Blake nods. "You'll sign a prenup. When we divorce, you'll get a million dollars, less what's left on your mortgage."

"A million dollars?" I… Uh…

"Kat. You okay?"

No. This… this is absurd. I stare back at Blake. "A million dollars?"

He nods.

"But… why?"

"I told you. I need someone and I want you."

But… uh…

I take a deep breath and exhale slowly.

Blake is worth a lot. A million dollars is nothing to him. Not compared to the price tag of a regular divorce.

This is what makes sense for him.

It's logical.

It's actually reasonable.

His fingers brush my wrist. "You can stay at your place for now, but I'll need you to move in soon."

"No. I'm staying with my sister."

"Fine. You'll stay with her until we marry."

I nod. I'd rather stay with Lizzy forever, but it wouldn't look right.

"I'll pay your expenses. Starting tonight."

"That isn't necessary."

"Kat. You're my girlfriend now. We're madly in love. Do you really think I'd force my girlfriend to fend for herself?"

"Yeah. It's called independence. You have heard of feminism?"

He chuckles. "You have heard of my charity?"

"No. That's a douchey thing to say."

"It's for domestic violence victims."

"Oh. That's… less douchey." And unexpected.

"It's okay. I know how I appear."

"It doesn't bother you?"

"Most people's opinions don't matter to me."

"So then why are you—"

"Some people's do." He stares back into my eyes. "I'll send over a credit card tomorrow. Treat yourself. Buy whatever you'll need to feel comfortable."

"I'm comfortable." I'm not exactly sleeping on Egyptian cotton and dining on steak, but I am comfortable enough.

"You're a beautiful girl, Kat. I want to tear off that dress. But there are people in my life who aren't nearly so…"

"They're judgmental assholes?"

He half-smiles. "Exactly."

"And you keep them in your life because?"

"Because they have other traits I value. You're more than welcome to show up to an event in jeans and a t-shirt. She…" He shakes his head. "But you'll get looks. If you don't want that kind of attention—"

"I get it." All his rich friends look down on the poor H&M shoppers. I guess I can do a little shopping spree if it's for keeping up appearances. I could certainly use new clothes. I haven't bought much since the accident.

His fingers brush the hem of my dress. "I'm never going to love you, Kat. But while we're together, I'll make sure you don't want for anything."

"What about… it's not like I can have a secret boyfriend on the side," I say.

"You want to fuck me."

"Yes." My cheeks flush. "Not necessarily today. But eventually."

"This part is real." He leans a little closer. His hands slide over the sides of my chest. Over my shoulders. "But you need to understand something, Kat."

"What?"

His eyes fix on mine. "I do things a certain way."

I swallow hard.

"I'm always in control."

"You mean… with, um…"

"When we're together, you're going to follow every one of my commands."

"Oh. I… um… I've never…"

"You're a virgin?"

"Yes." My cheeks flush. I swallow hard. "I don't date."

"Good. I want to be your first."

My chest flushes.

"But I have to warn you—"

"Yeah?"

"I'm going to wreck you for other men."

I open my mouth to speak, but words refuse to fall. He's so… I… uh.

"I'll say it a thousand times. I'm not paying for sex. I'm going to fuck you because you want me. If you don't, if you change your mind—"

"I do. I… I want to try it that way."

"Good. I want you tied to my bed." He pulls the strap of my dress aside slowly. "I want you at my mercy."

I want to be at his mercy. It's scary how much I want to be at his mercy.

I barely know him.

But I want him in control of my body.

It's scary how much I want him in control of my body.

I lean into his touch.

His lips brush my neck.

It's soft. Tender. Hot as hell.

I let my eyelids flutter together. I surrender to the sensations forming in my body.

Blake pulls my dress off my shoulders. He cups my breast, over my bra. Kisses a trail from my lips to my collarbone.

Objections form and dissolve on my tongue. I force myself to hold onto one of them. "We haven't agreed to anything."

"Is there anything else you want?"

"How long will this be? Is it indefinite?"

"Six months. A year, max." The strength drops from his voice. It's hurting. Something about this hurts him.

"Is there an out?"

"I'll only accept a full commitment."

A year with a man I barely know.

That's a huge gamble. But it's worth it for the end of that awful mortgage. For an education for Lizzy. And for me.

A million dollars.

That's enough to travel the world. To get a fine arts degree. To start my own comic studio.

That's… everything.

"Okay." I offer my hand.

He shakes. "I'll have my lawyer draft a contract. We'll sign tomorrow."

"Okay."

He stares deeply into my eyes. "This will move fast. You'll need to be ready by next week."

"I can do that."

"There will be cameras when we announce our engagement. You can wear what you want, but if you need help finding something, my assistant—"

"Okay." I nod. As much as I don't like the idea of being a doll, I don't know fancy parties. I don't want to look out of place. It's going to be hard enough convincing the world I'm Blake Sterling's girlfriend looking the part.

"I'll pick you up Saturday morning at nine a.m."

Jesus, that's early for someone who works mostly nights. "As long as you bring coffee."

He brushes my hair from my shoulder. "When you're with me, I'll take care of everything."

"Coffee?"

He nods.

"Food?"

He nods.

"What else?"

He runs his hands over my bra. "Clothing."

"Oh, that stands for clothing, does it?"

He nods.

His lips close over mine. It's magic. Like one of those scenes in a movie where fireworks explode over a pretty pink castle.

His lips are soft. Sweet. Commanding.

I run my hands through his hair. It's short. Thick. Neat.

His hand slips into my bra.

His fingers brush my nipple.

Fuck, that feels good.

I'm shaking. It's been a long, long time since anyone has touched me like this.

No. No one has touched me like this, like I'm a gift they want to unwrap.

I groan against his lips. Slide into his lap. Details fade to the back of my mind. They’re so much less important than my body against his.

I dig my hands into the soft fabric of his shirt until I can feel the hard contours of his muscles.

Desire overwhelms me.

I've never wanted anyone this much. I never even knew you could want someone this much.

He tugs at my dress, but he's pulling it back on, back over my shoulders.

My head is spinning. He's not… but he… he can't stop now.

I'm pent up.

I'm going to explode.

"It's late," he says.

I blink a few times, but he's still staring at me with that same impenetrable look on his face. "What else?" I ask. "Besides food, coffee, and clothing?"

"You'll come when you're with me, Kat. I'll make sure of it."

"But not tonight?"

"Not yet." He shifts off the couch. "I'll walk you out."

"I can walk myself."

I reach for my coat, but Blake is already holding it.

His fingers brush against my neck as he helps me into my coat.

Heat floods my body. It's everywhere. I can barely stand.

But we're not having sex tonight.

I… I don't get it.

I squeeze my purse. This is for the best. I've only known him a week.

Blake walks me to the elevator. He waves his key card in front of the door. "I'll have one made for you."

"Sure."

"My driver will take you home. If you need anything, call."

"I'll be fine."

His stare is intense. "Anything."

My stomach flutters. He can't mean sex. He just sent me out of his office with my dress falling off my shoulders.

I clear my throat and step into the elevator. "Goodnight."

He nods.

The doors slide closed, and I finally exhale. Almost home. It's a quick ride to the ground floor. As promised, there's a sleek limo waiting out front.

The man standing in front of it nods. "You must be Ms. Wilder."

I nod.

"Jordan." He offers his hand.

I shake.

"It's lovely to meet you." He opens the door to the backseat and motions after you.

I slide inside.

It's not like the limo I took to Junior Prom. It's sleek. Dark. Black leather and soft suede.

The minibar is stocked with tiny bottles of top-shelf stuff—brands I've never heard of. I crack open a mini bottle of gin and take a long sip. It's good.

But it's not doing anything to help with my frustration.

It's only winding up the tension inside me.

Letting down all the walls protecting me from my libido.

The door closes. Jordan speaks into his earpiece. "Understood, sir." The partition rolls up with a quiet whir.

I'm as good as alone.

My phone rings in my purse. Blake. What the hell?

I answer. "Hello."

"I said anything, Kat."

"I was there."

"You want something."

My heart races. Of course I want something. He's not an idiot. "Yes."

"So ask for it."

Heat rushes through me, collecting between my legs. "I…"

"Take off your underwear. I want to hear you come."