Rules Are Made to Be Broen

[A/N Chapter eight is a real quickie, but hang in there - I'm publishing as fast as Literotica & life commitments allow!...and I promise chapter 9 is worth the wait ;)

Also, to the person who left a comment saying my book is "the romcom of BDSM smut & they love it - THANK YOU!...I think that's my favourite thing anyone's ever said about my writing!...Eliza x]

I wake up the next morning on Ruby's sofa, to her standing over me with a mug of coffee and a smirk on her face.

'Morning Rubes, feeling better?' I ask with one eye open

'Good morning yourself', she smiles, handing me the mug, 'Good as new, thank you. Did you know you sleep talk?' she adds casually.

'What? I do not!' I reply indignantly, sitting up and taking a sip.

'You totally do!' she insists, 'Oh Mr Byron, I'm yours, take me!', she breathes dramatically and I feel myself blush 'HA!' she continues, 'I was totally messing with you, but now I know you WERE dreaming about him! You are so smitten!' she's practically bouncing on the spot.

I roll my eyes and down some more coffee.

'I am absolutely NOT smitten Rubes. He's a client. No more, no less.' I state flatly.

I had been dreaming about him though. Again. I have no idea where that keeps coming from, I have never dreamed about a client before. I rarely have sex dreams at all, let alone the full glorious technicolour Hollywood production style smut-fests I've been having about Sam Byron. I need to get a grip.

'Clients don't come running when you need a knight in shining armour.' She counters.

'He didn't 'come running' -- it was just good timing, coincidence.' I reply dismissively

'Right, and I suppose that kiss when he left was just a coincidence too?'

'You were spying?!' I say incredulously and she has the good grace to look a little embarrassed, then shrugs like it's no big deal,

'What? You know I'm a sucker for a good romance!' she reasons, and I laugh,

'Rubes, I'm a call girl, he's a client, there's nothing romantic about it!' she looks unconvinced, 'besides, he doesn't date, and neither do I. It's a nonstarter. At most, we're friends.'

'Friends with benefits, maybe!' she arches a brow at me.

I roll my eyes at her and concentrate on my coffee, relieved that I didn't tell her about the flowers. Or the incredibly thoughtful and over-generous book.

* * * * *

Sunday lunch at mum & dads is something I've come to love, not just because it's nice to catch up with them, but because it's a chance to de-compress and relax at the end of one week and prepare for the next. Since they live in the countryside, it's almost like a mini holiday every time.

Today though, I'm agitated and distracted. I'm exhausted after last night's drama, I'm horribly aware that I've done no work towards my next meeting with Katherine DeVere, and I cannot get my brain to focus on anything other than a surprisingly chivalrous, yet still deviantly Dominant man by the name of Sam Byron.

Specifically, how thoughtful he is and how helpful he was last night -- so cool and commanding in a crisis. And also, how full and soft his lips are, how good his body feels pressed against mine, how delicious he smells, how much I want him to bend me over and spank me senseless...

'Jessica darling, are you with us?' My mother's voice brings me abruptly back down to earth.

'Sorry mum, what was the question?' I reply

'Vegetables darling, what would you like -- carrots, peas, cauliflower...'

'Carrots', I answer dreamily, thinking back to the floor picnic Sam and I shared on Friday night. 'NO! Sorry, no carrots. Peas are fine. Thanks.' I smile sweetly at my confused mother.

'I reckon someone's got a new man on the scene' my darling brother chimes in.

'Shut up James.' I kick him under the table and glare at him

'Yep. Definitely love sick.' He continues.

'Is that true darling? We'd love to meet him!' Oh shit, now he's got our mother all excited.

'Mum, there's nobody to meet.' I insist innocently.

'Michael, tell her we'd love to meet her beau!' My poor, long suffering father rolls his eyes and looks at me sympathetically.

'Hayley, if Jess says there's nobody to meet, then there's nobody to meet. Let the poor girl eat her dinner. And let me eat mine.'

I smile at him gratefully, then scowl at my brother who just grins at me like the over grown school boy he really is.

As James and I do the washing up while Mum and Dad watch TV in the lounge, he starts to dig for information.

'So, come on then sis, who is he? Some geeky book nerd swept you off your feet?' he teases

'Give it up James. Of all the places in the world I'm likely to meet a potential 'beau'; work is pretty low on the list.' I smile inwardly at the irony.

'Your chances would be loads better if you came to work at my office.' he continues

'Oh, not this again J, please. I've told you; I like what I do and I'm perfectly happy doing it.'

Just then, my phone rings. A number I don't recognise is on the display. I dry my hands and answer it tentatively, expecting a wrong number or a sales call.

'Hello?'

'Amber?' Fuck. It's Sam. James' ears have pricked up, so I escape into the hallway for a little privacy.

'Sam, how the hell did you get this number?' I hiss at him.

'Whoa, easy tiger! Are you missing a yellow leather notebook?' Shit. My journal; I hadn't even noticed it was missing, I've been so useless, not doing any writing, I haven't needed it. But how the hell does he have it?

'Harvey found it on the floor of the car.' He explains casually, as if reading my mind. 'I figured you'd want it back and this number was on the inside cover. I thought I'd be doing you a favour.'

He sounds a little put out by my outburst, and I can't blame him. Stupid thing must have fallen out of my bag when I was rummaging in a panic last night. Sloppy Jessica, way too sloppy. I soften my tone and reply,

'You are, massively. Thank you. I'm sorry for snapping, you just took me by surprise.'

'No worries, beautiful', he's instantly brighter. 'How's Ruby?' he asks, blindsiding me as usual,

'She's good, much better.' I reply

'Glad to hear it. So, your notebook - shall I come and drop it off to you?'

'NO! I mean no, no need; I'll come to you and pick it up.' There's no way in hell Sam Byron is showing up at my parents' house.

'Even better,' I can tell he's smiling now. 'I'm at the new place though; I'll have the agency text you the address. See you soon Beautiful.' He hangs up. Wait. What?

James' head appears around the doorway

'That your special someone?' He teases.

'NO James', I snap, a little too harshly. 'Sorry, just a work thing. Doesn't matter.'

'Ah, the cut throat world of antique literature, eh?' I'm too stressed to think of a witty reply, so I stick my tongue out at him instead.

A minute later my phone goes again with a text message.

Yep, sure enough, Sam's booked me for two hours, new address and under special instructions: 'Attire: Au Naturel.'

I can't help smiling. I guess he really did like what he saw the other night. Alright then Mr Byron, that's exactly what you'll get.

I say my goodbyes to my family and head home to get ready.