(If you need to refer to the contract, it's in chapter 9)
After getting home, Jackson asked me to meet him in his office with my contract.
I walked in to see him already sitting there. I sat across from Jackson. Placing my contract in front of me, I fiddled around with my fingers.
"You seem nervous," he says, rather than ask.
"I guess I am," I admit, sheepishly.
"Don't be. There's nothing scary about this," he reassures. I smile.
"So do you have any questions or concerns about the contract?" Jackson asks.
"Uh— I have a few questions about the limits section," I say, opening the contract and looking down.
"Anything you're not comfortable with can be a hard-limit," he says, "do you need help with defining any term?"
"Yeah, what's figging and rha-phan-i-do-sis?" I ask, struggling at pronouncing the word.
"Rhaphanidosis and figging?" He asks.
I nod.
"It's when a ginger or radish is put up your—" He starts.
I interject, "Hard-limit."
He smirks, "But I didn't finish."
"I don't want anything up my anything," I say, not know how weirdly my words came out.
"Are you sure? Because if I recall correctly a few days ago you had something up your something," He says, his smirk widening.
My face heats up. He's messing with me. It's kinda hot—
I clear my throat, "Fisting is a hard-limit as well."
"Alright," Jackson says, his smirk still present, "anything else?"
"That's all," I say turning back a page, "uh now about my rules."
"Go on."
"Rule number one seems fine. Rule number two, I can't call you Jackson?" I question.
"No, not in a bedroom setting, but when we're in front of other people Jackson is fine," He explains.
"Okay, rule number three is just fúcking stupid," I blurt out, letting an unintentional f-bomb drop, "see what I mean?"
"Foul words are a part of a poor-witted man's language," He responds, "say a word like that and I'll punish you."
I feel my cheeks turn crimson. My confidence is shriveling away. Soon my mind floods with visions of what a 'punishment' might be like.
Jackson pulls me out of my thoughts, "Are there any long term medication you've taken it are taking that I should know about?"
Hesitation fills me as I recall my past. "No," I finally breath out.
Jackson looks at me for a bit and tries to examine my hesitation. I put up a confidant face, which reassures him.
"Rule number nine: what is a 'certain limit' for alcohol drinks?" I question.
"One drink," he states.
Only one? I sigh, it's for the best.
"Alright, the rest of the rules are fine," I say, glancing over them.
I flip through the contract one last time. When I reach the second-to-last page, I see there's an empty line. 'Safeword'
"That's for your safeword," he says, "once you say that word my actions will immediately stop."
I look around for a bit. What am I supposed to use as a safe word?
Hmm...
I soon find myself staring at Jackson's eyes. As I began to get lost in the mesmerizing emerald color of his eyes, it came to me... emerald.
"Emerald," I say.
"Emerald?" He echos, "Why?"
There's a confused look on his face. For someone so smart, I'm surprised he didn't get that I was referring to his eyes.
"It's a color I'm beginning to like," I say, giving him a hinting smile.
Soon he gets the hint and smiles. Man, he has a nice smile.
Looking down at the paper, I write 'Emerald.' I turn to the last page, which is where all I had to do was sign. I look back up at Jackson.
"Sign please," He hands me a black pen.
Am I sure this is what I want? Am I making a mistake? I should have thought about this. Holy shit! I find myself signing the contract. Did I really just sign the contract? Oh my God!
Jackson takes the contract from me and puts it away in a file cabinet, "Do you have any other questions?"
"Uh, kinda," I dwell upon his tattoos, "Do you tattoos have any meaning?"
"They do," he says, lifting his hand and looking down at them, "when the right time comes, I'll tell you."
I look down wondering when the right time will come.
"Follow me. There's something I have to show you," Jackson says, holding his hand out.
I take his hand and follow him out of his office. He walks me to the door that had a lock on it. Jackson enters a code on the lock, and the door opens. As I walk inside, I'm flabbergasted.
"Holy shit..." I mumble under my breath.
The room is something out of a BDSM movie. Whips, chains, handcuffs, blindfolds, floggers, and many other things I didn't recognize were all over the room. There was an Alaskan king sized bed in the corner.
Goosebumps ran over my body as I looked around.
"What do you think?" Jackson asks. I look at him.
"I- don't know," I say.
"You'll feel comfortable soon," he reassures.
Jackson walk over to the bed and sits at the corner.
"Come here," he commands.
We're starting? Oh my God!
I walk to him. Before I know it, I'm pulled over his knees. I gasp at his quick action.
"Did you think I didn't hear you mumble under your breath, Ms. Thompson?" Jackson asks, referring to when I mumbled 'Holy shit.' That was an accident!
"N-no..." I say, slightly stuttering.
He grabs me by the hair and pulls my head back, "No what?"
"No sir," I spit out.
He lets go of my hair causing my head to plop down on the bed.
"I want you to count," he commands, blandly.
__________________________To be continued...
this chapter is dedicated to authorjustk
happy birthday bitch! (i know i'm a day late) you're like 5 months younger than me 🤪 hehe
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Emerald (Book 1)
Romance"Sometimes trust blinds us so much that we can't see the truth" - After being dragged to some boring dinner meeting, Scarlet meets Jackson Vanderbilt. From leaving dinner early to being kicked out her apartment, Jackson was by Scarlet's side. What...