Justin's proposal lingered in my mind like a persistent melody I couldn't switch off. The idea of diving into something so intense, so unfamiliar, both terrified and thrilled me. I’d always been curious about exploring new aspects of myself, but the courage to actually take the plunge had escaped me—until now.

Part of me wondered if things had been different with James, had he truly been ready for a relationship, maybe I’d have considered something like this with him. But our dynamic was a complicated dance of friendship and lingering touches, and honestly, it was easier to keep that line undefined.

Thankfully, Justin hadn’t pressed me to go over the checklist in front of James and me, sparing us an awkward standoff or some unspoken tension that might have erupted the moment we stepped outside. We’d skipped that minefield, instead wandering off to grab breakfast at that hole-in-the-wall diner James insisted on, followed by a somewhat ridiculous quest to visit every single KFC within a reasonable radius. It was my day off, and the freedom to just roam and joke around with James felt good—grounding, even. The day had that aimless, easy quality to it, but in the back of my mind, the weight of my decision loomed.

The next morning dawned brighter, yet I was anything but. My anxiety buzzed incessantly, the clock ticking louder as the deadline to give Justin my answer approached. I inhaled deeply, trying to steady the jumble of nerves and excitement swirling inside me. I tried to recall all the research I’d done about these kinds of relationships—the trust, the depth, the unspoken vows that bind two people in ways most don’t understand. Was I really ready?

My fingers mechanically stacked books on the shelves, aligning titles and spines with practiced ease, but my mind was elsewhere. Hours had passed, and Justin was nowhere to be found. The quiet of the store was suddenly broken by the soft chime of the doorbell, and my heart gave a little leap as Justin stepped inside.

"Good morning, Mr. Wright," I greeted, my voice steady despite the flutter in my chest. His smirk sent a familiar shiver down my spine.

"Morning, Sarah," he said smoothly. "Could you join me in my office for a moment?"

Nodding, I trailed behind him through the aisles until we reached the cream-colored room bathed in soft light. Taking my seat across from him, I braced myself.

"Have you had time to think about my offer?" His gaze was steady, intense.

I swallowed and nodded. "I have. And... I’m willing to try, if you promise to guide me through it." A blush crept onto my cheeks—a mix of nervousness and something darker, more eager.

He inclined his head in acknowledgment. "This isn’t a casual thing, Sarah. It’s serious, and I want you to be absolutely sure. To be honest, I’ve had my eye on you for quite some time. That won’t change. But I will take care of you, every step of the way." His words were both a comfort and a challenge, igniting a heat beneath my skin.

I exhaled slowly, trying to quiet the buzzing in my chest. "Trying something new can’t hurt," I whispered.

A playful smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "Tired of living so vanilla, huh?"

I furrowed my brow, perplexed, but he just chuckled and waved it off. "Never mind. Let’s move on. There are some documents you’ll need to review carefully. I’m a wealthy man with a reputation to protect—this is as much about legal safeguards as it is about trust."

I nodded, understanding the gravity as I reached for the NDA and signed it. Then he handed me the contract, and my eyes scanned the pages, curiosity piqued.

The "Kitty Contract" was detailed—rules about behavior, boundaries, health, and loyalty. Most startling were the strictures about whom I could look at, how I should address him, and the limits on physical intimacy. My cheeks warmed as I read the clauses about punishments—hot wax, ice, clamps, suspension—and the list of consenting acts and devices was exhaustive.

"Justin?" I murmured, the pet name slipping out naturally and sending a warm rush through me.

His eyes twinkled. "Yes, kitten?"

I hesitated, then pointed to the exclamation mark beside suspension. "Why the emphasis there?"

He chuckled, leaning back in his chair. "Because it’s one of my favorites."

Surprised by his candor, I glanced down again. "Can I cross some things off?"

He shrugged, conceding. "Of course. What do you want to remove?"

My heart raced as I considered the options. Finally, I took a breath and struck through "tacks to the nipples," "manacles," and the requirement to stay over every weekend.

"Why not every weekend?" he asked, a flicker of something like irritation flashing in his eyes.

I shrugged, meeting his gaze. "I might have other plans."

His jaw tightened. "With James?"

I shrugged again, nonchalant. "Or other girls." He exhaled, the tension ebbing. "Fine. One weekend away per month, but I want to see you during the week."

My eyebrow lifted. "No visitation during the workweek, please. We see each other enough as it is."

He tapped his lip thoughtfully. "Every other weekend, then. Weekdays off limits. If that’s what you want, that’s what we’ll do."

Relief softened the tightness in my chest as I smiled faintly and made the edits to the contract. Justin watched intently as the pen slid across the paper.

"Can I get out of this if I change my mind?" I asked quietly.

His expression shifted, surprised but sincere. "Yes. If it becomes too much or if you decide this isn’t for you, we end it. But understand, Sarah—ending the contract ends everything between us."

The reality of his words settled over me like a heavy cloak. If I walked away, there would be no us. No chance at what we might be. I paused, the pen hovering, torn between fear and longing.

"You don’t have to do anything you’re uncomfortable with," he added gently. "If you’re not ready, I won’t push you."

My hand steadied, and with a deep breath, I signed my name, sealing the pact. The finality thrilled and terrified me.

"I’ll see you this evening, kitten," he said, his voice low, full of promise.

"Yes, sir," I replied, the title warming me unexpectedly.

He rose, walking me to his office door and opening it with a formal grace before stepping back. My heart pounded as I stepped out, anticipation spiraling into desire. My thoughts tumbled—imagining his touch, his hands gliding over my skin, soft lips tracing my thighs. A sudden soft whimper escaped me, drawing a few curious glances.

Flushed with embarrassment, I hurried to the back of the store, burying myself behind a fortress of books. I clutched a worn volume to my chest, trying to ground myself.

This was going to be a day unlike any other—one full of firsts, fears, and the intoxicating promise of discovery.