The CEO's Contractual Wife

“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 fi- nancial.”

“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 car.”

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.

His voice was unapologetic. “I don’t do vanilla, Olivia.

from his overwhelming presence. “I

need your answer by

not

a yes or no question,” he interrupted. “And I’m not a

clutched the folder to my chest like a shield. “I’ll let you know by

with those predatory eyes. “Don’t disappoint

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

my floor, I couldn’t help but wonder: how would those large hands feel on my breasts? Would

shook my head, trying

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

I wasn’t some supermodel or heiress. I was just… Olivia Morgan, junior marketing executive with student loans and family

of his list of candidates. But why? Because I needed money? Half of L.A. needed

her lowest point who still managed to hold her head high. Or maybe he just liked my ass in that black

Models, actresses, socialites – themselves at his feet. Why

they’d all throw

involved actual feelings rather than contrac- tual obligations. A business

clenched at the memory of his words: “I can make you come so hard you forget your own name.”

to pretend to be in love with someone. To sleep beside them. To

doors opened, jolting me from my thoughts. I walked to my desk on autopilot, shoving the folder deep into my

in her chair. “So? What

I froze. “What?”

her voice to a whisper. “You were

What did he want?”

resembled nonchalance. “Nothing important. Just… work stuff.” Vivian rolled her chair closer. “Work stuff? That’s all you’re giving us? The CEO