The Contract (Billionaire Erotic Romance) (The Agency)

BOOK: The Contract (Billionaire Erotic Romance) (The Agency)
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The Contract

(The Agency Series, Book Two)

By L.C. Lockwood

 

Copyright © 2013 L.C.
Lockwood

 

This book is a work of
fiction. The
names, characters, places
and incidents
are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are
not be constructed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual
events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

 

All rights reserved.

 

No part of this book may be
reproduced, scanned or distributed in any manner whatsoever without written
permission from the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in
critical articles and reviews.

 

Cover photo © Sex Mode &
Digestion
vs
Gary Alan
Holzauer

Designed and Edited by L.C.
Lockwood

 
 

Things were going pretty damn well. My agency was succeeding
more than I had ever imagined, my bank account had enough to last me for five
more lifetimes, and having Mason Cooper at my beck and call was exhilarating to
say the least. The sex was incredible and the extra help around the office was
welcome. The man definitely knew what he was doing both in and out of bed, and
on my desk, and in the backseat of my car, and on the roof of the Dodger
Stadium ticket booth (let’s just say we both hit home runs that day). Things
were going so well in fact, that I was beginning to consider promoting Mason
back to an agent. He knew what he was doing after all and my client list was
starting to grow past even my own expectations. With him working as an official
agent, taking on some of my clients,
I’de
be able to
focus more attention on particular actors.

 

The loss of control over him was the only drawback to a
promotion. I realized I was starting to become addicted to having him in the
palm of my hand. I was never the type of girl who would be a submissive little
kitten and sign some sort of contract agreeing to be beaten up for sex. But now
I found that I was turning into the one who wanted to give the contract. I
wanted to have him do what ever I pleased, when I pleased. So I figured, why
the hell not? I was going to promote him eventually, but I was going to do it
under my rules. There was also something else tickling the very back of my
mind. Something that just wasn’t right. I needed to be 100% sure Mason was
trustworthy before I gave him complete access to the actors I represented.

 

So the next best thing I could think of was to talk to
Sharron, an old friend of mine who always knew just what to tell me. Sometimes
she knew what to tell me even before I asked her about it. I swore she had some
sore of psychic ability. It was a slow day so I decided to invite her over for
some wine and cheese.

 

“Blair! I’ve missed you, my darling!” she said in her faux
French accent. She spent a year over there traveling with her husband and swore
that she was born with a baguette in her hands.

 

“Sharron, you look great! You lost wait, what are you 15
pounds now?” I said, poking at her ribs.

 

“Are you calling me fat
?!
” she
falsely exclaimed as she brushed past me and into my foyer. I was in the midst
of remodeling, so things were slightly out of order, but she still managed to
find her way almost instantly to where I stored all my finest wines. She
grabbed only the most aged white I had and led me out to my own backyard, which
looked out over all of Los Angeles. I felt as though I the guest.

 

“You know I’m going to have to charge you for that. I’m not
running a soup kitchen here.” I told her, grabbing the bottle from her hands
and using my I Love Lucy wine-opener.

 

“Honey, if this were a soup kitchen, then call me homeless
because I could have some wine and potatoes any day.”

 

“Not sure what potatoes have to do with anything but I’ll
figure something out.” I said to her, pouring each of us a glass of wine. I
took a sip of it and
layed
down on the hammock hung
between my two palm trees. She took a seat over by my pool and looked dreamily
out to the streets of Los Angeles. From our vantage point, you could see the
huge amount of traffic building up on the 405
freeway
.
It was almost calming, watching people go about their lives. It gave me a sense
of being.

 

“So… do you remember Mason Cooper?” I asked after a few
minutes of enjoying the view.

 

“Of course! That extreme hunk of man-meat that turned out to
be an
uber
douche-bag. You know I heard he did so
much coke, he almost died.”

 

I hadn’t heard that one.

 

“Yeah well, he contacted me the other day. He’s… my
assistant.” I said, hesitantly as I observed her reaction. Sharron always had a
much better intuition when it came to guys. I was always the one in high school
falling for the football player, thinking we were getting married while Sharron
would tell me he was going to end up getting some chick pregnant. Sure enough
there were two prom babies that year, both of them born in a bathroom stall and
both of them his.

 

Except this time, she was unreadable.

 

“Honey, you’re confusing me as much as the Leaning Tower of
Pisa did. I mean really, how could it lean like that? But back to you… you’re
joking right? Mason called you so much crap all over the press. I mean people
in France were talking about it.”

 

“Really? My name spread that far?” I asked, a little
astounded that people across the globe were talking about me. I was also a
little flattered.

 

“Of course, Blair. The beautiful billionaire heiress now
turned agent was stealing other agents’ actors and sleeping with all of them?
That’s just a Gossip Girl episode waiting to be written.”

 

“Ok first off, I’m not an heiress. My father was a sniveling
asshole that left all his fortune to his illegitimate son, not to me. Also I
think to become an official heiress you need to have a sex-tape these days”

 

“Yeah but you won it all back in a lawsuit didn’t you? And
I’m sure there’s some sort of footage of you floating around,” She had a point.
On the lawsuit thing, I actually wasn’t 100% sure if there was footage of me. I
could only hope if there was that the lighting was at least flattering.

 

Back to my whole heiress issue, see, my father was the owner
and creator of
Parashout
Pictures, a multi-billion
dollar entertainment company that he sold off in his later years. When he died
of a drug-overdose, I found out he left most of his fortune to someone named
Eric Conway, a brother I never knew I had. When I reached out to him, he
insisted that I didn’t deserve a single penny. This was around the same time I was
opening up my agency and could have used the capital, so I did what any other
American would do and I sued him. I won most of it back and sent a simple note
to Eric saying “Fuck You.” I was the one that came away with daddy-
issues,
therefore I was the one that deserved the money. At
the same time, my mother was undergoing her cancer treatments and we were both
going into unmanageable debt. Luckily with the amount I gained from my
worthless father, I was able to pay off all her medical treatments and buy her
the house she always wanted right off of the Santa Monica pier. I also kick
started Elite Society and bought some really nice shoes to top things off.

 

“Yes, I gained some money. But that’s not the point.
Sharron, there’s just something about him.”

 

“Yeah, the fact that he looks like a, pardon my language,
fucking sex god?” She always knew how to make her words sound like a classy
soliloquy.

 

“Wow, France has refined you so much.”

 

“Ok listen. You worked for him before, had great sex, almost
fell in love with him, which thankfully I was able to snap you out of, and now
you want to start that cycle all over again? Why don’t you find a nice guy, whom
you can actually keep an eye on and have a little control over?”

 

“That’s the thing, Sharron! I can control Mason! And I
didn’t almost fall in love with him. Sure, I got a little mushy, but can you
really blame me?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Ok fine,” I replied, shooting her a poisonous glance, “but
what’s so wrong with that anyway? Maybe he’d be good for me, relationship wise.”

 

“What makes you think that? His devilish good looks or his
snake-like manipulation techniques? The guy’s no good. Plus, why is he working
for you? Mason has some serious connections.”

 

Leave it to Sharron to always bring up the obvious, but
purposefully overlooked, points. I always knew it was weird that he would
decide to work for me, but part of me thought that he did it because he liked
being controlled by me. Because he liked being around me. Possibly just because
he liked me.

 

“Fine, but I don’t think you should promote him yet. Play
with him first. Oh, oh! You know what I was reading the other day?
69 Shades of Aquamarine
.
Have you read it?
Soo
steamy! But anyway, darling, I
was reading it and in the book there’s a striking man who takes control of this
naïve little doll-faced woman. Well, long-story short, he writes up a contract
for her, outlining all the hot, sexy stuff they do. It also made sure the guy
always kept control. Why don’t you write one up for Mason?”

 

“That actually doesn’t sound like a bad idea. Good job,
Sharron! I knew all that smut you read would pay off one day.”

 

I was already thinking up of some things I could write in
the contract, things I wanted to incorporate into our already steamy sex. It
could definitely be a fun idea and it would buy me some time to figure out what
Mason was really about.

 

“Oh it’s paid off plenty of times. You should see all the
new stuff I know now! Also it’s not smut. It’s just romance for an advance
crowd.”

 

“Thanks, Sharron, maybe you can join me and Mason then? Show
us some of your moves,” I said playfully, knowing she would never take the
bait.

 

“No thanks, my love. I’m more of an Italian sausage gal
myself. But thanks for the offer. We wouldn’t be true best friends without
giving each other a shot at a threesome,” she said, giggling and taking another
sip of her wine.

 

“You’re right on that one. Now let’s take a little, how do
you say… siesta, I have a contract to write up later.”

 

Chapter 2

 

It was the next morning after Sharron’s wonderful contract
idea. It didn’t take me long to whip something up and print it out, already
excited at the new encounters this would bring. There was already a certain
dynamic between Mason and I, but with the contract, that dynamic would be
solidified. It would also help me figure out Mason a little better. If he
didn’t decide to sign it, then maybe Mason wasn’t as committed as I hoped, but
if he did, well then maybe there was possibility for a future.

 

“Hey Mason, yeah listen can you meet me at that little
coffee shop in Los
Feliz
? I want to talk to you about
something?” I said to him over the speakerphone in my shiny new BMW. I threw a
glance over at my Louis
Vuitton
purse that held the
all-important document.

 

“Fucking shit! Get out of my way! Ugh, no not you
Mason
, unless you were the one driving that damn Escalade
that almost knocked me off the road. Anyways, yeah meet me there. Oh and put
all my meetings for this afternoon on hold, I have plans.” He agreed and hung
up. He had no idea just what my plans were, but they were definitely going to
be fun. It was always fun when Mason was around.

 

In fact, Mason was around a lot more often these days. And
not just for work purposes either. And on top of that, I wasn’t sure if it was
the mind-blowing sex or the fact that Mason was incredibly good at weaseling
out of situations, but I was already forgiving him for the badmouthing and
shit-talking
he had done during our fall-out. It’s not like
his slandering had devastated me. My agency actually did better with the
publicity. Of course, there was a tiny, miniscule part of me that was hurt by
being called a “cock- gobbling slut in a monkey suit” but I bottled those
emotions away like I was used to doing. I didn’t want to explore those feelings
any further, especially because I wasn’t sure if I was hurt by the names or by
the fact that it is was Mason calling me those names. I was always able to
separate sex from romance, but I was also human and lines weren’t always clear.
Especially lately where there just didn’t seem to be any lines at all.

 

Regardless of my emotional conundrum, I still liked hanging
out with Mason. And so I did, pretty often. Obviously I saw him on a daily
basis, him being my assistant required a line of constant communication.
Between scheduling a ton of meetings and fucking me senseless, I was shocked he
even had time to eat. But at the end of the day, Mason was incredible at doing
both.

 

And so there I was, at my favorite little coffee shop
waiting for Mr. Cooper. I had on a plain white-tee with a plunging V-neck that
showed off a very good bit of skin. Over it I was wearing a small, black
leather jacket that complimented my dark gray shorts. I fit in pretty well with
the hipster crowd that filled the room, working away at their various
screenplays and
webisodes
and stand-up routines. I
looked around as I waited for Mason, taking in the life that filled Hollywood.
I absolutely thrived on the creative energies flowing through this town.

 

I didn’t have to wait long for Mason to arrive. His blue and
white plaid button-down shirt seemed to barely contain the strength his muscles
exuded as he walked over to me, commanding attention from everyone in the room.
It was clear just how much confidence Mason had in himself, as he pulled out
his chair and threw me a mischievous smile. There was something else in the air
as well. It was almost a dangerous element, something I was feeling more and
more often around Mason. I hadn’t put too much thought into it, but lately
something was telling me I should.

 

“How’s your day been?” I asked him, connecting with the deep
blue pools that he called eyes.

 

“Eh, it just got a lot better now,” he said, licking his
lip
just the slightest bit. He was almost predatory today.

 

“Well hold on to your horses. I could have told you to come
here so that I can fire you.”

 

“Fire me? But I’ve been getting your coffee orders exactly
how you like them. Only five grains of sugar and imported straight from the
mountains of New Guinea.” He joked, a smile flashing his perfect teeth.

 

“I counted six grains of sugar yesterday. I’m sorry but I
can’t have that.”

 

“I’m so sorry, how will I ever be able to repay you?” he
said, his left leg brushing up against the bare skin on mine. The connection
sent small electric shocks up through my thighs.
Stay focused, girl. You haven’t even shown him the contract yet
.

 

“I could come up with a few different ways. But I think I’ll
let this one slide for now. Thankfully I didn’t die of a sugar overdose so
there’s that to look forward to. In all seriousness though, I came here to talk
about your position at Elite Society. You’ve been great in more ways than one.
Your service has been exemplary and you’ve gone over and beyond what I’ve asked
of you. Also, your extra-curricular work has been pretty earth shattering,” I
said, letting a grin creep up my face.

 

“Thanks, you have been working me pretty… raw after all.”
His voice was dripping with a sexual energy that immediately sent a flush of
red throughout my body.

 

“Well, I think it’s time to give you a raise,” I replied,
climbing my foot up his calf and resting it on his chair, between his strong
thighs. The double meaning in my words was extremely obvious as I felt his body
tense and his thighs no doubt pressing against his growing erection. I could
feel the heat radiating out from the center, his eyes lighting up with not only
joy but also a hunger.

 

“There’s just something I want you to sign first. Then after
a few more months under this new arrangement, I’ll see if I promote you.”

 

“Sign? I’ll sign away my first born so that I could work
alongside you, as an equal. But a few months? Blair, I need to start being a
legitimate agent now. Please, give me the chance.”

 

The pleading eagerness in his tone was sending a rush
through me. Everyone in that coffee shop was disappearing around me as I just
began to focus on the growing wetness underneath me and the perfect man before
me, practically begging me to give him what he needed.

 

“Oh babe, let’s not get ahead of ourselves here. No one said
you’d be my equal. And this… contract, will make sure of that.”

 

His look grew a little more confused as I reached into my
bag and pulled out some papers, sliding them across the table. I watched his
every reaction as he picked it up and read over the contract.

 
 

WHEREAS, Ms. Stone (hereinafter “Master”) and Mr. Cooper
(hereinafter

“Submissive”) wish to engage in consensual activity most
likely of a sexual nature amongst and between themselves (Master and Submissive
collectively, hereinafter referred to as the “Parties”),

WHEREAS, the Master wishes to initiate sexual advances in
any area, whether it
be
public or private, the
Submissive must consent and perform willingly and eagerly.

WHEREAS, Master wishes to continue to remain in the public
eye without

additional
scandal and damage to her
character, class and persona, whilst continuing to engage in behavior that
presents risks to her character, class and persona,

NOW, THEREFORE, the Parties wish to summarize their
understandings in this

agreement
as follows:

1. Submissive agrees to not to divulge any Bedroom
Secret(s), meaning the whole or any portion of any unusual ability, technique,
improvement upon established technique, procedure or position that may be part
of Master’s repertoire of methods for bringing, or attempting to bring,
Submissive to climax. A Bedroom Secret is not limited to a bedroom and may
include bathrooms, restaurant kitchens, limousines and private mansions.

2. Submissive is forbidden from using any and all recording
devices before, during, and after acquaintance and subsequent sexual congress,
without express written consent and agreement with Master.

3. Submissive must agree to any and all requests Master
makes during sexual encounters, including but not limited to
;

i
. Bondage

ii. Mutual Masturbation

iii. Anal sex with both Parties as either receiving or
giving.

iv. Sexual toys and stimulators.

v. Various role-play scenarios.

4. Submissive will agree to submit all sexual power and
control to Master when the Master demands it.

5. Master may request Submissive to take on the role as
Master for the remainder of an encounter, wherein the roles will be switched
but only for that set period. Once both parties have finished, the original
roles will ensue.

6. Both Parties agree that this contract is strictly
confidential and shall not be discussed to anyone else except those mentioned
here.

 

 

It didn’t take him long to read over it, but with each new
bullet point I noticed his eyes widen just a little more. I felt his body start
shifting, his legs coming together; I knew he was just putting pressure on his now
throbbing erection. It was hard to hide and I knew him so well at this point,
it was like reading an intense romance book. He may have thought he could hide certain
things from other people, but not from me. I slid my sandals off and moved my
foot higher, now resting on his growing cock. I felt his member pulse against
the fabric of his jeans. I knew people next to us could see my foot massaging
his huge bulge, but I didn’t care. I was hungry for him.

 

He took a deep breath, looked me straight in the eyes and
said, “Hand me a pen.”

 

I reached into my purse again, slid over the pen and watched
as he without hesitation signed his name on the dotted line. All the while, my
foot was methodically going up and down, rubbing his rock-hard erection. I
could feel the stares from the young man next to us, I even heard the girl he
was with giggle. I glanced their way for a moment with a devilish smile and
returned my focus back to Mason, who was now concentrated on my exposed
cleavage.

 

I reached over, grabbed the contract and returned it to my
purse. I then got up and shifted my chair over to his side of the table, so we
were now sitting next to each other. I leaned over and nibbled on his earlobe,
well aware that the other curious couple was still watching us. He let out a
quiet moan and rested his hand on my bare thigh. I moved it up until he was
resting on my mound, now soaked in my wetness.

 

I lowered my hand until it rested on his jeans. I felt the
outline of his thick cock push against the fabric. The urge for him to be free
was almost overwhelming, but I just continued to rub the outside of his pants. He
must have not been wearing any underwear as I felt the wetness of his pre-cum seep
through the fabric of his jeans. I slowly massaged his thickness, feeling him
pulsate. I glanced over at the couple,
who
 
were
now blatantly watching us
with a naughty intrigue on both of their faces. I returned their mischievous
expressions as I undid Mason’s zipper and slipped my hand under the jeans. He
definitely wasn’t wearing any underwear.

 

I felt the heat of his thick member warm my hand as I
grasped the full size of him, barely able to close my fingers fully around his
shaft. I stroked him. Up and down. Up and down. Under his jeans.

 

His hand was still on the center of my shorts, just above my
warm pussy. He put pressure on my mound, sending heat waves course through my
body. At this point, my hand started moving faster, exploring every inch of his
shaft. His breathing was getting heavier and I knew he was close. I shifted in
my seat, allowing him to reach in and place his hand under my shorts, rubbing my
pink lips and spreading them aside with his strong fingers. He put one, then
two inside of me, curving them upward and gently pushing them in deep. I let
out a small gasp as he entered in a third finger, stretching me open.

 

Now it wasn’t only the couple watching us. Another man
sitting in the table across from us took notice. I locked eyes with him,
glancing down and noticing his gym shorts were raised in an impressive tent.
Seeing him just as turned on set me off. I came on Mason’s fingers, pulsating
around him. He felt my whole body tense and heard my moans escape me. My hand
grasped tighter on his shaft, sending him over the edge as well. I felt warmness
shoot out of his tool.
A dark stain spreading quickly along
the inside of his jeans.
His breathing was heavy as he let go of his
seed, some of it spilling out through the opening of the zipper.

 

When we were both finished, he slowly pulled his fingers out
of me as I took my hand out from his jeans. Both of us were still dripping wet
as we looked at each other and burst out in a fit of giggles. The couple next
to us also started laughing in that “embarrassed but holy shit that was hot”
kind of way. I noticed the other man had taken care of his situation, a dark
stain also spreading across his light blue gym shorts. He got up, stain and all,
and walked over to where we sat. Without saying a word, he dropped a folded up
napkin on our table and walked away.

 

I looked over to
Mason
and grabbed
the napkin, opening it up and reading it aloud. “That was one of the hottest
things I’ve seen in a while. My name is Chase. Number is 813-7678,
gimme
a call”.

BOOK: The Contract (Billionaire Erotic Romance) (The Agency)
13.86Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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