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.

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,

back, needing distance from his overwhelming presence. “I need

your answer by

not enough

or no question,” he interrupted.

to my chest like a shield.

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

I couldn’t help but wonder: how would those large hands feel

my head, trying to clear

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 weigh- ing 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

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

was at the top of his list of candidates. But why? Because I needed money? Half

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

socialites – themselves at his feet. Why not just find someone to fall in love

they’d all throw

involved actual feelings rather than contrac- tual obligations. A business arrangement was safe. Controlled. No messy emotions to

made it clear that was non-negotiable. My pussy clenched at the memory of his words: “I can make

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

doors opened, jolting me from my thoughts. I walked to my desk on autopilot,

Nova spun in her chair. “So? What did the big boss

I froze. “What?”

Carter,” she clarified, lowering her voice to a whisper. “You were

What did he want?”

I hoped resembled nonchalance. “Nothing important. Just… work stuff.” Vivian rolled her chair closer. “Work stuff? That’s all