Chapter 1

"Yuck!" I exclaimed, gargling for the tenth time. But no matter how many times I brushed my teeth, wiped my lips, and washed my mouth, the warmth of his lips against mine still lingered.

And it made my stomach churn!

The way his touch still burned my skin gave me goosebumps. And it sickened me because the more I forced myself to hate the feeling, the more I liked it.

"This is all your fault, Cassidy. If you weren’t so easily deceived by money, you wouldn’t have to suffer," I scolded myself, staring into the mirror. "Look at yourself. You look like a damn rainbow—like your old self, stupid."

The first few weeks were fine. I believed I could get through this easily. But weeks turned into months, months turned into a year, and now, I've been tormented for almost two years!

Johnny is an insanely attractive man—no one has the guts to deny it, not even me. Physically ideal, but behaviorally flawed.

This prolonged misery taught me a lot of things about that bastard. He never misses a day without a woman to warm his bed, he's a massive tease, and he can't sit still knowing there's a woman he can't have—including me. Only when he's desperate and out of his damn mind does he even try.

But the thing is, his mother wants me to walk away once he's crazy over me—which I think will happen when crows turn white.

When I agreed to this deal, I didn’t think twice. Who am I, anyway? Alone in life, bored, eager to swim in a pool of money.

I had no reason to live until I met Tamara Miles. Graceful, seemingly fragile, yet demanding and somehow manipulative—in a very decent way.

She offered me an education, a house, a life. And this is how I'm repaying her... or at least evening the score, since I'm getting paid. But it looks like that ambition is slowly fading away.

Johnny Miles. If he isn’t obsessed with women with small waists and chopstick legs, he’s obsessed with himself.

The idea that he could fall for me looking like this? It’s as likely as a pig flying.

A knock on the door and the rattle of the doorknob snapped me out from breaking down.

"Cass, hurry up. I need your help."

Speaking of the chauvinist pig. Johnny was clearly ready to break the damn door down.

Rolling my eyes, I silently groaned while fixing my odd makeup and putting on my ugly glasses.

"Motherfudger," I grumbled under my breath, cursing him in every possible way.

After what he did in the elevator, he walked, talked, and acted like nothing happened, while I was still trying to process how my veins and nerves got fried from the shock.

Taking a deep breath, I braced myself for the expected waiting for me outside this door.

Johnny’s way of living was close to naked.

Like him...

And just... what the actual fudge?

"There she is," he happily uttered, lying in his bed like a slut. "I can't decide which underwear to bring. Could you help me?" he asked, wearing that smug, slutty-ass grin while watching me turn red and flustered at the sight of him.

He’d lost his suit. Wearing nothing but a pair of boxer shorts, which was apparently considered as mercy.

I froze on the spot, eyes popping out of their sockets. I had to pick my jaw up off the floor and force my eyes to look the other way.

My gaze landed on the pile of clothes scattered across the carpet—way too many for a three-day business trip.

"You only wear black underwear. What makes it so hard for you to choose?" I choked out my forthright words.

He rolled over on his bed, lying on his side and propping his arm up to support his huge-ass swollen head. "I'm having trouble choosing because I know the head of my cock would peep through if I got a hard-on. Should I just buy new ones?"

Grabbing a ziplock bag, I used it to pick a few so I wouldn't have to touch the sinner's briefs and threw them at his face. "Why don't you just use a diaper? I'm pretty sure it'll cover up that face-of-an-ass of yours," I bluntly replied.

"Hey, do I have to remind you every day that I'm your boss?"

"Sure," I sighed, keeping my eyes glued to his clothes. "Because I find it hard to remember when you're constantly acting like a hormonal teenager."

A guffaw left his lips as he threw his head back. "So mean," he chuckled, reaching in my direction to flick my ear.

I groaned in annoyance and tossed his shirts and slacks at him. "Take those, put them in your damn luggage, 'sir'. I'm leaving."

Pulling the clothes off his face, he pouted. "Aren't you going to talk about how sexy I am?" He gestured toward his sinful body with his hand, making me glance at it. "Cassy babe, I know you haven't had lunch. So here I am. The main dish. Sweet and salty."

I grimaced as he caressed his semi-hard magic between his thighs, teasing me with all his might.

Does he think I'm that easy? Jokes on him… or is it on me?

Maybe I should tell that to my wet panties.

"You're hopeless," I mumbled before making my way to the door.

"If it's your time of the month, I can just let you watch me jerk off!" he shouted just as I slammed the door closed behind me.

"Asshole," I muttered under my breath, finally taking in the air I desperately needed.

He's worse than wearing a plastic bag on my head—he makes me feel suffocated. Just hearing his name makes my heart pump quick and loud.

"You should've just been an accountant or maybe a boring analyst," I grumbled to myself, making holes in the stairs as I stomped down like a heavy monster.

I could work at a small diner if I really wanted to escape this miserable life. What's stopping me is the money.

If I get that half a million, I'll live in Soho, spend my money shopping, and no one will ever see me as a weirdo. I'll finally be where I belong.

"Cassidy?"

Auntie Tamara’s voice made me halt. She was standing by the piano in her beige and maroon formal attire, looking so damn decent and graceful from every angle.

My foot got stuck midair.

"I'm not expecting to see you here today," she said, sounding like she suspected something.

"Auntie Tamara," I greeted, though a frown was still on my face. "Uhm… Johnny's upstairs, packing." I pointed my thumb in the direction I came from.

She nodded, but doubt lingered in her eyes as she looked at me. "You were with him in his room?"

The disadvantage of knowing her son too well—she’s got trust issues with all women. And right now, that includes me.

Why did she have to see me here, in this jerk's house, after I told her I was thinking about quitting? After I admitted… I was slowly breaking my walls down?

This is just not happening!

I get why she’s worried, and I won’t let that slide.

"He paid me to help him get his luggage ready. Don't worry, Auntie. As fragile as I am right now, I'm not that fast to tumble down."

That reassurance caused a little smile to form on her red-painted lips, but it was immediately shadowed by darker skepticism when a pair of arms suddenly back-hugged me, followed by a kiss on my neck.

My whole body felt like it had been dipped in an icy pool. My skin crawled, and the tension shot straight to my toes.

What the fudge…

"Hey, you can't just leave me like that, Cassy babe. We gotta finish what we started…" the almighty asshole huskily uttered, creating a million reasons for Tamara to feel disappointed in me.

Should I mind? I don't think so. But Johnny's hands all over me? That, I do.

I secretly elbowed him, making him groan. But instead of letting go, he buried his face in my neck—just like how he basically entombed his hard-on against my butt. Right in front of his mother.

Harassment!

With all my might, I pushed Johnny away and glared at him, but the rascal only laughed like it was the funniest thing ever.

"Oh, Cass, sue me, please?" he said between laughs before turning to his mother. "My most favorite woman!" he exclaimed, hopping down the stairs, not even caring how naked he was, and shoving Tamara into his arms.

"Oh…" Tamara gasped timidly but instantly pulled away. "You're underdressed, son." She patted him on the back.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, crossing his arms, which made his biceps flex—standing there like an underwear model. No, scratch that. Like a freaking macho dancer.

No shame.

"I was wondering if maybe we could talk," she replied, shifting her eyes to me before turning back to him. "But please, put some clothes on."

"Nah, I'm more comfortable this way," he refused. "Besides, my secretary likes it when I'm flashing her. Right, Cassy babe?"

I wore a grimace, still completely fazed by what had just happened.

Flash? What’s flashing before me right now is my bright and lavish future.

Oh, shit… I don’t think I’m getting that money at all.