Lord of Rain (The Dragon Demigods #5) - Charlene Hartnady Page 0,57

document, “she will know exactly what’s she’s getting into. She’ll do it with her eyes open. It’ll be her choice. Besides, that document should protect me from any legal action.”

“You’re right, and technically it will protect you.” He nods, his jaw tight.

“Technically. It’s supposed to be comprehensive and specific.”

“It is. You did have me put a clause in for every eventuality. Although I found that one or two clauses left you open to…to you being in breach, which would make the contract null and void. As your attorney, I have to advise you against putting them in there. I left them out of the draft.” He gestures to the document, with the wave of a hand, looking more flustered than I’ve ever seen him.

“Which clauses exactly?”

“Nine-point-two-A leaves you the most vulnerable,” he says it like I know which one that is off the top of my head.

“Expand.”

“The clause that states you would be in breach if Ashley Shaw doesn’t orgasm every time you have sex.” He winces when he says ‘orgasm’. Like it’s a dirty word. “Part B, too. Namely that she will…you know…before you every time.” He looks at his feet when he says the second part.

“You do know that there are sex therapists who can help you with that, Adrian.” I think back to my conversation with Miss Shaw. I have to bite back a smile.

“Excuse me?” He frowns.

“I recently found out that only 30 to 40% of women actually achieve climax during intercourse. A paltry 20 to 30% come without assistance – so very few women – and around 50% with assistance. Only fifty! That’s terrible.”

“Exactly,” he goes on. “The odds are only fifty-fifty. That’s why that clause is setting yourself up for—”

“I’m not worried, Adrian. Not pleasing a woman every time should be a crime. I want her to accept and sign. That clause will help me with that.”

“But—”

“But nothing. I’m not worried because I know I can make good on those clauses every time. There will not be a breach. Like I was saying, there are sex therapists out there and great books on the market that can help you with your…shall we say shortcomings? Don’t push your problems onto me. I see you’re not married.” I look down at his hand.

“I’m divorced, actually.”

I raise my brows. “You might want to take my advice then. There’s no shame in getting some help. Knowledge is power.”

“It…I…” he splutters.

“Put the clauses back in. What else was there of concern to you?”

“Is the clause referring to sex toys really necessary?”

“Yes.” I nod. “I want Miss Shaw to feel like she’s in full control. She should decide what she likes and dislikes.”

“I guess it will be the same for the clause about a safeword and the one pertaining to sexual positions?”

“Yes.” I fold my arms.

“Okay, then.” Adrian is flustered. “Please read through the document and send me your feedback as soon as possible. I will ensure that the discussed clauses are added back.”

“When can I get the final draft?”

“Monday, possibly Tuesday.”

“Monday,” I snap back at him. “I’ll have the changes to you tonight.” I’ll need to do that when I get back from my mother’s house.

“Yes, sir.” He nods. “Monday, end of business. It’s my youngest’s birthday tom—”

“That’s fine, but don’t change anything without my express consent.”

“Understood.”

“Thanks for coming by on a weekend.”

He lifts his brows, looking at me in much the same way Trident did earlier when I laughed. I guess I don’t thank my staff enough because Adrian is shocked that I did just that.

“No problem. We’ll talk on Monday.” I walk to the office door, and we walk out together. Then I let him out of my apartment. He mutters his goodbyes. I can see that he can’t wait to leave.

I turn and head for the kitchen. Trident is unpacking our food. He has an amused expression on his face. “Who is she?” he asks.

I push out a breath. “How much did you hear?”

“Enough. Nice clauses.” He nods. “I knew there was someone.”

“There isn’t.”

“Like hell! Ashley Shaw is a someone.” He bobs his brows.

“You should have stayed on the balcony,” I growl.

“Our food arrived, asshole.” He pushes my plate over to me. It’s piled high with gnocchi and garlic bread. “I couldn’t help but overhear. I didn’t want to, but...”

Like hell! I notice that the music has been turned down. I give him a dirty look, and he laughs. “Who is she? I have to know.”

“My new personal assistant.”

He frowns. “I thought you didn’t fuck your

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