Page 138 of Fool Me Twice

Hart was rushing toward the doors before anything else could be said. He slammed them open, turning on his heel right outside and craning his neck to read the single line printed on shiny beige paper.

His paper.

Rule 1: if you hear moaning, do not enter on pain of death.

It was…provocative. And uncouth. And…and…

“Your rule directly contradicts rule 5B of my rule list!” Hart exclaimed. “We can’t have this, Cane. It’s an HR nightmare!”

“Which rule was that again?” Cane asked. “The number of addendums is hard to keep track of.”

Hart grabbed Cane’s forearm and marched him to the closet rule list he had printed out, laminated, and framed in multiple key areas. He pulled up short when he saw Cane hadn’t been joking when he’d said he’d placed his rule around. He’d actually taped his rule directly over several of Hart’s—the one about running in the hallways, the one keeping fights to two per person, per week, and the one about blood spilling being kept to a safe minimum. Chaos would ensue!

He boiled inside.

“Cane!”

Cane shimmied behind him and kissed his neck, ignoring his frustration and trying to pick up where they’d left off. Or distract him. Probably both.

“What’s up, sweetheart? I added the rule with the rest. I thought you’d be pleased by the organization.”

Hart could feel his shit-eating smile against his skin, and he hated how it turned him on so much. This was serious! But he could also arch his neck so that Cane could get to the spot he liked behind his ear. It was just efficient.

“You threatened murder on the same rule list that says threatening murder on the premises is strictly forbidden,” Hart complained, a little breathy.

Cane hummed, the vibration making Hart shiver. “Since I make the rules, I can be the exception.”

Hart’s eyes flashed open. He didn’t know when they’d closed. “You make the rules?”

“Slip of the tongue,” Cane said, using said tongue to lick at his ear, his piercing catching a whorl and tugging. “My sweetheart makes the rules, of course.”

Hart melted into Cane’s chest. “That’s right.”

“So we can add it,” Cane said, running his hands over Hart’s hips and down the fronts of his thighs.

“I’ll review it.”

Cane huffed a laugh behind him, the rumble of it settling Hart’s jitters. Like always. “Whatever you say, sweetheart. You know the drill. Just tell me what you need and it’s yours.”