Chapter 8: Outside the Contract

The elevator doors had barely opened before I had my coat off.

The housekeeper had gone home hours ago.

The guest-room door at the end of the hall was shut, with a line of light under it.

Lila was asleep.

I kept my voice low.

"Your room."

"Jo."

"Your bedroom, Ansel. Which door?"

He took my hand and walked me down the other hall.

His bedroom was dark and wide, with a bed made up in gray and a window wall full of lake.

He turned on a single lamp.

Then he stood at the foot of the bed and put his hands behind his back.

"Tell me what you want," he said.

"My hands first."

I walked up to him and undid his tie.

I took my time over his shirt buttons, one at a time, and the skin under them was warm and covered in dark hair.

He had a long white scar low on his ribs.

I put my mouth on it.

His whole body went hard under my lips.

"That's not in the contract," he said, in a voice that barely held together.

"No."

"That's not a kiss, counselor."

"No, it isn't."

I looked up at him.

"I'm amending clause three," I said. "Anything I say, until I say stop."

"In writing?"

"Verbally. Witnessed by the lake."

"Then I'd like it noted," Ansel said, "that I have wanted to be amended for three years."

I laughed, and then I pushed him onto the bed.

He went down on his back and looked up at me, and I stood over him in the red dress.

"Watch," I said.

I reached behind me and found the zipper.

The dress came down off my shoulders, over my breasts and the soft round of my stomach.

It slid over my hips, and then it was on the floor.

I stood in my black lace and my heels.

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