Chapter 22

Olivia

The elevator doors opened with a soft ding, and I stepped inside, grateful to find it empty. As soon as the doors closed, I sagged against the wall, my legs suddenly weak.

"What the fuck did I just do?" I muttered, running my hands through my hair. "How am I going to explain this to Mom and Dad?"

My mother would be thrilled I was getting married—until she realized the timeline. Marriage in what, a few weeks? She'd have questions. Lots of them.

And my dad... he was old-fashioned. He'd want to know Alexander's intentions, his family background, his five-year plan.

My brothers would be even worse. Nicholas would immediately be suspicious. He could always tell when I was lying. And Ethan would G****e the hell out of Alexander, digging up every tabloid story about his playboy past.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." I banged my head against the elevator wall.

How was I going to explain this to everyone? My family still thought I'd never dated anyone. They didn't even know about Ryan - I'd planned to introduce him after we got more serious. Now I'd have to tell them I was marrying my boss?

I could already hear Mom's voice: "But honey, we didn't even know you were dating!"

I'd have to lie. Tell them Alexander and I had a secret relationship before, broke up, and now we're madly in love again. More lies. Always more lies.

"And what happens after?" I whispered to my reflection in the polished doors. "When the contract ends and we divorce? Then what?"

Would I ever be able to have normal relationships after being with someone like him?

The elevator dinged at my floor. I straightened up, adjusting my clothes.

"One problem at a time, Olivia," I muttered. "One fucking problem at a time."

I returned to my desk, trying to focus on the athletic wear campaign mockups. But my mind kept drifting to Alexander's proposition.

Mrs. Carter. Olivia Carter. The name felt foreign, yet somehow intriguing. Would I get new business cards with that name emblazoned in sleek, minimalist font?

"Focus, damn it," I whispered, forcing my attention back to the screen.

But thoughts of Alexander kept intruding. What would it be like to live with him? To share his space, his bed? My nipples hardened at the thought of his large hands on my breasts, his mouth trailing down my stomach. Would he be gentle or rough? The way he carried himself suggested the latter.

"Fuck," I hissed, crossing my legs to ease the sudden throbbing between them.

What was wrong with me? I'd just caught Ryan balls-deep in Sophia less than a week ago. I shouldn't be fantasizing about anyone, let alone my boss, who was essentially buying me.

But Alexander wasn't Ryan. He was... different. Powerful. Commanding. The kind of man who probably knew exactly how to make a woman scream his name.

Would he expect sex right away? The contract mentioned "physical relations," but Alexander had said the timing was flexible. Still, we'd be living together. Sleeping in the same bed.

I imagined him coming out of the shower, water droplets trailing down his chest, a towel slung low on his hips. Would he drop it deliberately, letting me see what he was packing? Or would he stalk toward me like a predator, pushing me onto the bed and spreading my legs?

"Jesus Christ," I muttered, feeling heat rise to my cheeks. My pussy clenched at the thought of him sliding inside me, filling me completely.

No. No. No. I couldn't think like this. This was a business arrangement, not some sexual fantasy.

But what if I needed sex? What if living with him, sleeping beside him night after night, made me desperate for his touch? Would I have to beg? The thought of Alexander making me plead for his cock made me squirm in my chair.

And what about his needs? He'd made it clear he had a strong sex drive. Would he expect me to drop to my knees whenever he wanted? To bend over his desk at the office?

"Get it together," I scolded myself, taking a deep breath.

I needed to be practical. This was about money. About helping my family. Not about getting laid by my ridiculously hot boss.

But what if the sex was incredible? What if he ruined me for other men? What if—

"Earth to Olivia!" Nova's voice cut through my inappropriate thoughts.

I jumped, nearly knocking over my coffee. "What?"

"I've been talking to you for like five minutes. Where the hell were you just now?" She leaned closer, studying my flushed face. "Wait, are you thinking about sex? You totally are!"

"No!" I protested too quickly. "I'm just... focused on work."

"Uh-huh." She didn't look convinced. "So you weren't just sitting there imagining Alexander Carter bending you over his desk?"

My face flamed. Was I that transparent?

"That's disgusting. He's our boss," I managed, though the mental image made my panties damp.

"A boss who couldn't take his eyes off you during the presentation," Nova countered. "I'm telling you, he wants to fuck you six ways from Sunday."

"Nova!" I glanced around frantically. "Keep your voice down!"

"What? It's true. The way he was looking at you? Pure animal lust."

I rolled my eyes, trying to play it cool despite the heat pooling between my legs. "You're delusional."

"Am I?" She smirked. "Then why are your nipples hard?"

I crossed my arms over my chest, mortified. "It's cold in here."

"It's 75 degrees, but whatever you say." She tapped my computer screen. "Back to work. Those mockups won't revise themselves."

I threw myself into the campaign with renewed determination, forcing thoughts of Alexander and his proposition from my mind. By 4:30, I'd made significant progress on the revisions.

"Hey, we're heading to Jasper's for drinks," Vivian announced, grabbing her purse. "You coming?"

I shook my head. "Can't. I've got some work to finish up."

Alice raised an eyebrow. "Since when do you pass up happy hour?"

"Since Alexander Carter gave me extra work," I lied smoothly. "He wants a complete analysis of our social media metrics by this evening."

Vivian looked skeptical. "That's harsh."

I shrugged. "That's corporate life."

"Speaking of Carter," Nova said, "what did he want earlier? And don't say 'work stuff' again."