"Okay."

"It does seem like a lot, but everything included is necessary to protect Mr. Felton."

"Protect?"

"All of Finn's employees must sign and abide by the contract."

I thumbed through pages of legal words that jumbled together on the paper. The gist included my body being treated as property, strict rules, stricter regulations, and more blah blah fucking blah.

"So basically, you all own me if I pass training? Doesn't all of this seem, I dunno, a bit overboard?"

"To you, maybe, but we find these clauses are necessary to protect you, our clients, and the corporation. The NDA is to ensure the privacy of all parties and protection of any trade secrets that you may learn while being employed. Our contract is nothing short of enlisting for the U.S. Military. It might help if you think about it that way."

I continued to thumb through the pages.

"What about clause 7B-2, client may be released from duties as deemed necessary by management. But then in 6D-4, it states, the contract stands indefinitely until released. Seems to me as if there is hardly any job security."

"Many of our employees have worked here steadily for the past five years. As long as you—"

"What is the turnover rate?"

"No one has ever quit."

"Then how—"

"Mr. Felton has personally fired each employee that didn't cut it," Jesse butted in.

I had almost forgot she was behind me on the couch.

"Are you currently on the pill or shot?" Paisley asked.

"No. I… I don't have sex."

"I'll set up an appointment with the gynecologist next week," she said.

I hated the gynecologist. Just the thought of having someone feel around with cold metal and fingers made me cringe.

I continued to read through articles and amendments until I went cross-eyed. At the end of the five-hundred-something pages, there were two documents with a small X beside a line.

I swallowed down the lump in my throat.

What if I got old and ugly? What if I wanted to get married or have children? What if I fell in love?

Love, as stated in the contract, between clients and/or other employees is strictly prohibited and will result in immediate termination.

My heart dropped. Love, had yet to find me, and to be honest, Cupid had not shot his arrows in my direction for quite some time. Love was nonexistent, but do I want love? What other emotion is as powerful as that one? Love only happened in fairy tales.

With the final thought, I grabbed the pen and scribbled my Jane Hancock across the line.

"Are you sure you don't want legal advice?" Paisley asked, a little concerned.

I hesitated before signing the last page, and then went for it.

"You only live once, right?" I said.

And that's when Paisley's mouth dropped open.

"No one has ever denied legal advice," she said.

I threw my chips on the table and played the hand that Lady Luck dealt.

Please don't be a bitch, I thought.

Seven

"If you say so." Paisley signed her name below mine and Jesse notarized the document, grudgingly.

"We are all set, I suppose," Paisley said before picking up the phone on her desk and dialing a four-digit extension.

"It's done. I'll send her up," she said, and then hung up the phone.

Jesse leaned on the corner of the desk and stared at me, daring me to say something. But I didn't, and neither did she. I wasn't sure why she hated me so much, but I hoped she would get over it. I hated when people disliked me, especially for no reason.

"Jennifer, Mr. Felton would like to see you in his office," Paisley said.

The sound of his name conjured up a strange excitement.

"Do you remember where his office is?"

"Umm… no."

"Jesse, can you bring her? I have to fill out some additional paperwork before we leave for our ten o'clock appointment."

Jesse stood, but didn't wait for me. I was just supposed to follow. As I trailed behind her, I noticed how much prettier she was than me. Her aura, although bitchy, held a certain kind of confidence that probably drove men crazy. What was my aura?

She pushed the up arrow and we waited for the elevator to arrive. Once it opened, we stepped inside, and she pressed the fifteenth floor. As we moved upward, she stopped the elevator in mid-flight and then turned on me. Beauty and fury stared at me, waiting for me to make my move, but I stood my ground and returned the most uninterested look I could manage. I learned from the best after all.

"Listen to me. You think you are so pretty and sweet and innocent, but I know better. I can see straight through your little act. You better be on your toes because I already don't like you. And I will do everything I can to make sure you don't make it out of training. So get ready, little virgin girl. Get ready for the time of your fucking life." Her voice was full of vengeance and hate.

I reached over and pressed the button to continue upward.

"Challenge accepted," I said to her through gritted teeth.

Although Jesse towered over me like a giant, I wasn't concerned. What would she do, punch me? Fight me? I fought boys all my life. I wasn't the type of girl that got manicures on Saturdays or dyed my hair. She couldn't handle this, and no matter what she had to say, or what she tried to do, sabotaging my career wouldn't work.

As the elevator opened, she tried to block me from exiting. I gave her my best football player shoulder as I walked passed her, and I heard her scoff at my actions. Without looking back, I knew that I had successfully made a permanent enemy. Fantastic, just what I needed.

Everything looked familiar. The girl at the circular desk, the windows, and the door at the end of the hall with Mr. Felton's name etched across.

I straightened my shirt and pants before I knocked on the door. He instructed me to enter. I inhaled and turned the knob. Mr. Felton sat at his desk, closed the laptop, and then intertwined his fingers together before giving me that boyish grin that made my heart palpitate.

"Ms. Downs." My name sounded velvety coming from his lips.

"Mr. Felton," I retorted.

"I knew you'd make the right choice."

He guided me closer toward the view of the city and I gasped. The casinos, fake world attractions, and buildings filled the streets. The view was even better than the last time I caught a glimpse. Basically, he had front row seats to Sin City.

"It's beautiful," I whispered.

He turned his head and stared at me. Heat coursed through my veins and touched my cheeks.

I tried to focus on the city scene, and the feelings I experienced. I wanted to memorize every single detail of the Strip as it lay below my feet.

"Tell me about you."

I scoffed and shook my head.

He grabbed my wrists, and walked me backward until my ass hit the wall.

"I'm not joking. Now tell me." That accent and messy hair combined with bright green eyes made him deliciously dickish in every sense.

"I wouldn't know where to start."

"Let's start here."

He grabbed both my wrists in one hand and undid the buttons of the black shirt he made me wear, controlling each little button. The fabric got in the way of his view, so he moved it aside taking in every inch of my breasts spilling over the top of the lacy bra.

"Start with your past relationships."

The more I looked at him, the more I asked myself what I was doing. I could have left his office, but I didn't. It seemed it was too late to go back on my contract, too late to run away and never come to this building again. Although I was only into the business a few inches deep, every bit of me was cemented in, locked in legally, and as sick as it was, I liked it.

"I dated a guy for a year or so, and we were pretty serious. I thought maybe we would get married one day, but he wanted to have sex, and I wanted to wait until I was married."

Mr. Felton unbuttoned my pants and unzipped them a few inches, allowing enough room for his hands to slip inside my panties. I wiggled my wrists to stop him but he pinned both of my arms above my head.

"Don't, and continue," he whispered.

"His name was Greg. It was puppy love. He did nice things for me constantly, but then one day it all stopped. Like the fresh flowers had died, and I knew it was over."

While I spoke, his hand inched down my panties. I couldn't move, I couldn't run, and I didn't want to.

"Oh, you're wet. Do you like this, Ms. Downs? Did he ever touch your clit? Like this? "

And he pushed harder on my clit and I sunk into it. "You didn't fucking answer me."

His fingers parted me, and he began to add pressure and swirl in motions that I had never experienced before. Then backed away.

I struggled and fought to speak. "No. He never touched me. Anywhere. I wouldn't let him." My voice was low and wavering.

"Do you feel when I add pressure here between the folds of your labia," he said, and then barely dipped the end of a finger around the outside of my opening. My knees went weak.

"Yes." I struggled to speak. "It feels… really… good."

No one had ever explored my body in such a way, but oh god, I wanted him too. I wanted him to keep going. Every touch, every movement was turning me into clay. Something that he could mold and make into whatever he wanted.

"My little virgin is so wet. I fucking love it. And so do you."

The movements of his hands were bringing me to a place I had never been. My muscles began to tighten, my breathing picked up, and I inhaled deeply. Mr. Felton shook his head and pulled his hand from my panties, leaving my body wanting, begging for more.