Fake Dating With Benefits｜my Billionaire Boss Novels & Stories

The boy who left scars I didn’t want anyone poking at. “No,” I said firmly. “I don’t.” He tilted his head. “You sure? Because the look on your face says otherwise.” “I’m not playing your games.” “Good thing I’m not asking you to.” He pushed off the wall, stepping closer, his voice dropping just enough to make my pulse do that stupid jump. “I’m offering you something else. Fake dating. You and me. We pretend we’re together. People buy it. And it screws with Liam in the process, also I'm sick and tired of these girls and I need someone to help me honestly, and I can pay you or maybe I don't know what do you want in excgange?”

“But let’s talk about you… How did you meet Will? What’s he like?” I take a moment to gather my thoughts, trying to frame my answers carefully, avoiding the truth about the nature of my marriage. “Will is… he’s amazing. We met through work… He is my boss, I know… cliche. He’s really supportive, and I think he genuinely cares about me.” Mia raises an eyebrow, a skeptical smile playing on her lips. “Cares about you? You are married, she he not love you? You know how I feel about office romances, but if he is Mr right….”

The words floated through my head, but my brain flat-out refused to process them together in the same sentence. Maybe it was the hangover from sin. Or maybe I'd just fried every neuron I had trying to make sense of how, in less than twenty-four hours, I'd gone from "I need a date for my ex's wedding" to "mysterious fiancée of the country's most desirable CEO." "What?" "He's Christian Kensington, Zoey. The freaking CEO of Kensington Wineries!" My heart skipped a beat. "No." "Yes." "No way!" "Yes way!" "But… but…" I shook my head, completely dazed. "If he's a billionaire… why was he pretending to be a gigolo?!"

Our one-night stand was off-the-charts hot. I just didn’t expect him to walk into the office the next morning… as my new billionaire boss. Dylan is older, dangerously sexy, and every inch the cold-hearted CEO. He doesn’t do attachments. He doesn’t do second rounds. But now he needs a favor—me, playing his fake girlfriend to get his meddling mother off his back. I agree, thinking I can keep things professional. Big mistake. Behind closed doors, we can’t keep our hands off each other.

“You really love that word for someone who’s never had to spell it.” His eyes finally met mine. Heat. Ice. Chaos. I swallowed and tried not to combust. “I was curious,” I said. “You never told me why you need a fake girlfriend.” “For a business deal.” I blinked. That was… honest? “What kind of deal?” He smiled lazily. “Curious, are we?” “Yes. I’m literally sitting in a car with a man I barely know, about to have dinner with his billionaire father. I think I deserve a few details.”

"Isn't that better? If it's officially out, we won't have to sneak around anymore." I shot him a sharp look. "Dream on! Probation isn't over yet!" The car slipped seamlessly into the evening traffic. "What should we have for dinner?" he asked casually, like this was our usual routine. "I tried a new recipe—tomato and beef casserole. It's mild, comforting, and not spicy." I froze. A billionaire CEO actually offered to cook for me? "You know how to cook?" I asked incredulously. "I only learned it to win you over," he said calmly, keeping his eyes on the road. "As Mr. Y, I'm supposed to be gentle, thoughtful, and able to cook. I have to live up to it."

"I know this is unusual. Possibly insane. But I promise, this is purely professional. You'd have your own space, your own life. I'm asking for some of your time and your willingness to pretend you care about me." Ten thousand monthly. For six months. Sixty thousand dollars. Plus medical expenses. That would solve everything. But fake dating a billionaire? "Why me?" she asked. "You could hire an actress. Someone who knows your world." "Because you're real," Damian said simply. "Yesterday, you were genuinely mortified. You offered to pay even though it would cost a month's rent. You didn't try to use the situation to your advantage. You were just yourself." He sat on his desk edge. "Everyone i

I don't ever want him to refer to Camila as Dave's girl. She's my girl. She's always going to be mine. Mine. The door opens, and more people pour into the house. A guy goes behind Camila and starts to dance with her. Who the fuck is that fucker? I'm about to go to him, but Camila beats me to it. The guy quietly retreats after Camila's rejection. Great. He knows how to handle a rejection. I'm glad he backed off easily. I would have whooped his ass otherwise.

I answered, keeping my voice low. “Fake dating, which you already know about. He's... he's paying me, too. I needed the money, Maya. And a little distraction from…” I shrugged, letting the sentence trail off, not needing to say Callum's name out loud. “It's a win-win situation for us, he needs someone to help his public image as a grounded man and not the playboy Casanova he truly is.” Maya giggled as she stared at me like I'd just suddenly sprouted an extra head.

“Then why did you recommend this place to him?” “I… I… I didn’t know he wanted to propose to her. Matter of fact, I still think this is a setup.” Then she stepped closer to Mr. Vindell. “And this man right here might actually be a fake. Yes, because there is absolutely no way the real billionaire would stoop this low.” A faint smile appeared at the corner of his lips. “So I decide to do business here, and this is what I get? Using my purchased time for your pathetic drama.”