Page 8 of Curvy Girl for the Billionaire

The soft clink of her heels against the pavement is like a metronome to my rising desire. As we slide into the limo, our thighs brush, a simple touch that sends adrenaline spiking through my veins.

I want to explore every inch of her—want to break down the barriers she puts up.

In the dim light of the limousine, her eyes look greener, almost ethereal. "You look stunning tonight," I murmur, allowing the truth of my words to hover in the air between us.

She flushes, a delightful pink creeping up her cheeks. "Thank you, Alex," she replies, her voice steady but with an undercurrent of something else—something like anticipation.

I lean closer, my hand finding hers again. The contact is deliberate, reaffirming the silent promise I made to myself—to have her, wholly and completely. My thumb caresses the back of her hand, a seemingly innocent gesture that carries the weight of all my unspoken desires.

The limo pulls away from the curb smoothly, gliding through the city streets as we sit wrapped in a cocoon of tension and luxury. The quiet intimacy of the space amplifies every breath, every slight movement.

Charlie shifts slightly, turning to face me more directly. "So, Alex, what's the agenda for tonight?" Her tone is casual, and professional that she is, she’s direct and to the point..

I smile, a slow, deliberate curve of my lips. "No agenda," I say softly. "Just two people enjoying each other's company." The words hang between us, laden with meaning. I watch as her gaze flickers with a mix of curiosity and wariness.

The car stops at a red light, and I seize the moment. Leaning in closer, I drop my voice to a whisper, "And maybe discovering things about each other that could surprise us both."

Her breath catches, and the subtle scent of her perfume—a mix of vanilla and something undeniably spicy—fills the space between us.

It's intoxicating, addictive.

Her eyes hold mine, a silent battle of wills occurring in the depth of those verdant pools.

"Yes, we should definitely know a few facts about each other," she finally says, and my heart falls.

She’s looking at this like an assignment.

And of course she is. She thinks it’s all fake.

I’m paying her for Christ’s sake.

I sit back in the limo and fall silent.

Damn it all to hell.

five

. . .

Charlie

The restaurant is a study in shadows and whispers, intimacy carved out in mahogany and candlelight. Alex dominates the space across from me, his presence an indomitable force that pulls at every sense.

"Let's come up with our story," I suggest as I swirl the wine in my glass, watching the red liquid cling to the crystal. "If we're going to convince everyone we’re dating, we need a solid story."

"Okay," he says, though he seems less than thrilled about the prospect.

In fact, he’s been brooding ever since the limo ride.

I look at him curiously. Just what’s up with him?

My heart falls. Am I really that boring?

I focus on the task at hand. "It has to be plausible but romantic enough to satisfy the skeptics."

"Romantic..." he muses, drumming his fingers on the table.

"An event," I start, my mind ticking through scenarios with practiced ease, "One of my planning, naturally. You're there, not expecting much beyond business networking."

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