Page 39 of Billionaire's Fake Wife: A Single Mom BWWM Romance

I tuck her into the bed, and I sit down beside her with a book in my hand. Tonight's story would be about a very hungry caterpillar. I read to her as she listens to me intently.

She starts to yawn as we near the end of the story. Her eyes are almost half-closed as we finish the book. I return the book to the shelf, turn off the lights except for her star lampshade, and kiss her on the forehead.

"Goodnight, dear, have sweet dreams," I tell her.

"Goodnight, Mommy," she replies. "I love you."

"I love you too, sweetheart," I assure her.

I quietly close the door to her bedroom as I step outside. I go to the bathroom and start drawing out a bath for myself. As I wait for the tub to be filled with water, I pour myself a glass of white wine.

I twist my hair into a messy bun. I pour some lavender bath salts into the water and stir it with my hands for a little bit. I remove all my clothing as I gingerly stepped into the tub.

My body welcomes the warm water as it covers me. I start to relax as I soak, but my mind continues to race with thoughts about Lauralee, work, and most especially about Grant.

Grant Fields.

The very thought of his name brings back vivid images to my mind.

I can't deny that he's handsome, no wonder he's got the reputation of a playboy as women would probably line up just to get some of his attention. Not to mention the money that he's got.

I also remember the way he's been with Lauralee. He's good with her, and I don't think that's something that you can fake or pretend. Plus, children are more sensitive to these kinds of stuff, that's why I'm quite surprised that my daughter warmed up to him so easily.

Then, there's the sex. The damn, hot sex. Grant's got the body of an Adonis that would give any of the male models that we have a run for their money. He's got the goods, and he knows how to use them.

I close my eyes and start to imagine the things that we've done. I can still feel his mouth and tongue as it touches every part of my body. The strong but gentle touch of his hands. Even his deep, sensual voice that can entice anyone into submission.

Of course, to top, it all is his long, hard dick. I think it's what makes the women crazy. He can go soft and slow, or he can take things up a notch and be wild. Either way, he'll make you cum multiple times.

I shake my head as I try to clear out these thoughts from my head as they're already making me turned on. I take a sip out of my wine and try to focus on other things.

More than the physical aspect, Grant is also very smart. Gloria must know that since she put him in the finance department. Ever since most of his projects would equate to savings and improvements in the cash flow of the company.

I'll have to admit, I'm attracted to Grant. I mean, who wouldn't be? But I'm not even sure if this is just purely attraction from what I'm seeing, or if it's something else.

With the story he told me earlier, I got more glimpses of the kind of person he is inside. Which makes me even more confused with my feelings for him. Is this what you call pity? Empathy? Or am I just feeling this because my mind is telling me that we have to due to our agreement?

I take another sip from my glass and close my eyes. I try to recall back to the previous days, and I start to question myself?

Did I make the right decision to agree to this put-up show for his mother? I list my reasons.

Of course, my main reason is my daughter. Agreeing to Grant's proposition means having a shot at the promotion. And that translates to better pay and lesser workload. All of which will benefit Lauralee.

The more time I spend with Grant, the more I question myself. The lines are slowly becoming blurred, and I don't think I'm ready for that.

Granted, I'm given the promotion, and I'm now doing the work that's fulfilling. But with everything that's happening, I'm starting to question if being in a pseudo-relationship with Grant is affecting the quality of my work.

Honestly speaking, I'm starting to feel that I'm not sure if I want to stay working for the company anymore. All the effort and time I spent in building my career seems to be slowly tumbling down. My world is falling apart, and I'm not just going to stand by and watch it crumble.

I can't handle this stress anymore, I need to do something.

I tell myself as I find new resolve in facing this head-on.

I finish my bath and prepare myself for bed. I lie into my pillows and close my eyes. I pray for a dreamless sleep as I slowly drift off.

"You didn't reply to any of my messages last night," Grant whispers to me.

We're currently in one of the meetings for one of the big clients, and I'm trying to ignore him. But he keeps on bugging me.

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