Page 7 of Curvy Girl for the Billionaire

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Charlie

My phone buzzes against the glass tabletop, its vibration a sharp, insistent thing. I glance at the screen—Alexander Bennett's name glows back at me.

Heat crawls up my neck as I swipe to answer.

"Charlie," Alex's voice is a stroke of velvet over the line, dark and promising. "Dinner tonight? I thought it might be beneficial for us to...acquaint ourselves further."

"Sure," I reply, my practicality wrestling with the flutter in my stomach. "What time?"

"I’ll pick you up at eight."

There’s something about the way he asserts control, even over simple logistics, that sends a shiver dancing down my spine.

The rest of my afternoon blurs into a haze of anticipation and anxiety. Each passing hour tightens the knot in my stomach, not solely from nerves but also an unfamiliar excitement.

I try not too fuss too much with my appearance because I am not trying to impress him.

It’s fake, after all.

Alex

Charlotte Greene, with her sharp wit and even sharper curves, has been a relentless distraction since the day I first laid eyes on her. She’s all I fucking see, all I can think about.

My cock is perpetually hard thinking about it, but it’s more than just the physical sensations she elicits in me.

It’s the way I feel when I look into her beautiful green eyes.

Like coming home.

I spend the afternoon in meetings, but my thoughts keep drifting to her—her dark hair falling perfectly around her face, her green eyes that seem to pierce through the façade I wear for everyone else. She’s a challenge, a beautiful enigma wrapped in caution and sensuality.

By 7:45 p.m., I'm pulling up to her apartment in my sleek black limo. My driver idles on the curb as I step out and adjust my cufflinks. I also smooth back my hair, preparing to see her again.

The anticipation coils tight in my chest as I ring her doorbell.

Charlie

The sound of the doorbell echoes through my small apartment, a stark reminder of the evening that lies ahead. I take one last glance in the mirror, smoothing down my dress and taking a deep breath to calm the fluttering in my chest.

It's just dinner, I remind myself. Just a part of the charade to keep the gossip mills at bay and protect his reputation.

I open the door, and I'm momentarily breathless. Alex stands there, every inch the epitome of a dark prince from some erotic fairytale.

His presence commands the space, his eyes immediately capturing mine in a gaze I find hard to break.

"Good evening, Charlie," he says, his voice a low rumble that seems to vibrate through me as his dark gaze rakes over me, lingering on my curves.

He extends his arm, and without thinking, I place my hand in his. His fingers close around mine with possessive warmth.

As we walk to his limousine, every step feels charged. The air between us crackles with an electric current that pulls me closer into his orbit. Despite the cool evening air, his nearness envelops me in a warmth that's as intoxicating as the finest whiskey.

I shake my head.

Get ahold of yourself, Charlie.

Alex

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