Chapter 10

Olivia

"You've really thought this through," I said, disturbed by how methodical he was about the whole thing.

"I never enter a negotiation without a strategy." He moved closer still, his heat radiating against me. "Which brings me back to the non-negotiable aspect of our arrangement."

My mouth went dry. "The sex."

"Yes." His voice dropped to a dangerous purr. "The sex."

"I'm not a prostitute, Mr. Carter."

"I never suggested you were. This would be a marriage in every sense of the word, including the physical aspects."

"Which you expect me to perform on demand?" I asked, hating the breathless quality of my voice.

His eyes darkened. "I expect mutual satisfaction. I'm very good at making sure my partners are... thoroughly pleased."

The way he said "thoroughly" sent a jolt of heat straight to my core. I pressed my thighs together, praying he couldn't tell how my body was betraying me.

"You're asking me to have sex with a stranger," I said, trying to sound indignant rather than aroused.

"We won't be strangers for long. And trust me when I say I can make it worth your while in more ways than just financial."

"You seem very confident about your abilities," I shot back.

"I've never had complaints." His eyes locked on mine, challenging. "I can make you come so hard you forget your own name. I can make that pretty pussy of yours so wet it soaks through your panties just by whispering in your ear."

My face flamed at his crude words, but my body responded with a rush of heat between my legs.

"That's—that's inappropriate," I stammered.

"You wanted to know what you'd be getting into." His voice was unapologetic. "I don't do vanilla, Olivia. I like it rough. I like control. And I'm very, very thorough."

I stepped back, needing distance from his overwhelming presence. "I need to think about this."

"I need your answer by tomorrow."

"Tomorrow? That's not enough time to—"

"It's a yes or no question," he interrupted. "And I'm not a patient man."

I clutched the folder to my chest like a shield. "I'll let you know by tomorrow."

"Tomorrow," he agreed, watching me with those predatory eyes. "Don't disappoint me."

I left his office with my heart hammering and my panties embarrassingly damp. What kind of person was I that being propositioned by my arrogant, demanding boss had turned me on? Sure, Alexander Carter was possibly the most attractive man I'd ever seen in person, all hard angles and controlled power wrapped in bespoke suits, but he was also asking me to become his contractual sex partner.

As I rode the elevator down to my floor, I couldn't help but wonder: how would those large hands feel on my breasts? Would his mouth be as demanding as his personality? Would he be rough or gentle?

I shook my head, trying to clear these inappropriate thoughts.

I needed to think rationally about this proposal. Five million dollars would change everything for my family. Dad would get his surgery. Nicholas could pay back the money he'd borrowed from friends, loans that I knew were weighing on him heavily despite his full-time job. Ethan could finish college without the crushing debt I was still carrying.

How had my life come to this? A few days ago, I was in a stable relationship with a man I thought loved me. Now I was contemplating a contractual marriage to Alexander Carter, CEO and apparent sex fiend.

Why me? The question nagged as I rode the elevator back to my floor. I wasn't special. I wasn't some supermodel or heiress. I was just... Olivia Morgan, junior marketing executive with student loans and family problems.

He'd said I was at the top of his list of candidates. But why? Because I needed money? Half of L.A. needed money. Because we had "chemistry"? The thought made my nipples tighten traitorously beneath my blouse.

Maybe he'd seen something in me that night he drove me home. Vulnerability mixed with determination. A woman at her lowest point who still managed to hold her head high. Or maybe he just liked my ass in that black dress.

But why a contractual wife? Alexander Carter could date anyone. Models, actresses, socialites – they'd all throw themselves at his feet. Why not just find someone to fall in love with naturally?

Unless... he was afraid of commitment. Real commitment. The kind that involved actual feelings rather than contractual obligations. A business arrangement was safe. Controlled. No messy emotions to deal with.

And what about sex? He'd made it clear that was non-negotiable. My pussy clenched at the memory of his words: "I can make you come so hard you forget your own name." Arrogant bastard. But what if he could? What if the sex was mind-blowing?

And what if we caught feelings? A year is a long time to pretend to be in love with someone. To sleep beside them. To have them inside you. What if I fell for him? Or worse, what if he fell for me?

The elevator doors opened, jolting me from my thoughts. I walked to my desk on autopilot, shoving the folder deep into my bag before anyone could see it.

"There she is!" Nova spun in her chair. "So? What did the big boss want?"

I froze. "What?"

"Alexander Carter," she clarified, lowering her voice to a whisper. "You were summoned to his office, remember? What did he want?"

"Oh." I arranged my face into something I hoped resembled nonchalance. "Nothing important. Just... work stuff."

Vivian rolled her chair closer. "Work stuff? That's all you're giving us? The CEO of Carter Enterprises personally calls you to his office for 'work stuff'?"

"Yep." I turned on my computer, avoiding eye contact.

"Bullshit," Alice chimed in from across the aisle. "No one gets called to Alexander Carter's office for 'work stuff.' That's what department heads are for."

I shrugged, trying to look busy with my login credentials.

"You know," Nova said thoughtfully, "I was watching you two discussing after the presentation. There was definitely something there."

My head snapped up. "What? No. What do you mean?"

"Chemistry," she said, waggling her eyebrows. "The way he kept looking at you. And you kept staring at him."

"I did not!"

"You totally did," Vivian agreed. "I thought you were going to spontaneously combust."

"You're all delusional," I muttered, though my cheeks burned.

"Do you know him from somewhere?" Alice asked, suddenly serious. "Because it seemed like he recognized you. There's something you're not telling us."

Fuck. They were more observant than I'd given them credit for.

I forced a smile. "There's nothing to tell. Now, can we please get back to work? I have that report due by five."

They exchanged looks but mercifully dropped the subject. I stared at my screen, not really seeing the numbers in front of me.

One million dollars just for signing the contract. Five million after the divorce. A promotion I'd have to work years to earn otherwise.

And all I had to do was marry a man who made my panties wet just by talking about making me come.

Was it really such a terrible deal?