The Wife Situation: A Billionaire Age Gap Marriage of Convenience Romance (Billionaire Situation Book 1)

Same day

I heard her desperate pants as I flicked off the hallway lights. At first, I thought she was crying, but I quickly realized she was pleasuring herself.

And when she said my name … fuck, she’d better be glad I didn’t barge in there and do exactly what she wanted me to do to her.

The thought of Lexi in the next room, teasing her sweet pussy with my name on her lips, has my cock begging to be unleashed.

I move to my room, go to the shower, and step inside, washing the day away as I stroke myself to thoughts of her.

“Fuck,” I groan, allowing the water to fall over my back as I press my palm against the wall.

She whispered my name.

I rub my finger across the tip, feeling the pre-cum she caused at the end. As I stroke, I think of her hot mouth begging me, her perky nipple in my mouth, and her saying my name as I slam deep inside her wet cunt.

My darling. My Lexi. My future wife. The one?

My pace increases, and my balls tighten. I come so hard that my knees nearly buckle. With panted breaths, I rest my head against the wall as the water falls over me. She makes me want to lose control. She makes me want to believe that love does exist, even if she doesn’t think so.

Alexis Matthews may be the woman who finally breaks me.

Birthday countdown: 35 days

Since meeting her: 11 days

Company takeover: 42 days

I think I hear my name from the doorway and I stir, wondering if it’s a dream. If Lexi has embedded herself so deep into my subconscious that I hear her while sleeping.

“Easton,” she says again.

I sit up and turn on the lamp beside the bed, glancing at the time on my watch. It’s four in the morning, which means two hours have passed since I went to sleep.

Lexi stands in an oversize T-shirt, and I see the tiny, dark circles of her hard nipples poking through. The hem falls at her upper thighs and the neck has been cut out, so it slouches on her shoulders. Her long hair surrounds her face in wavy curls.

She’s like a ghost, a figment of my imagination. How is it possible this woman exists?

Then, I realize it’s raining, pounding against the roof and windows. It’s a mountain storm; they happen often at high altitudes. When lightning strikes, she jumps, sucking in a deep breath.

I cross the room toward her.

“Lexi?” I keep my voice soft.

When I’m close enough to touch her, she meets my eyes. “I had a nightmare.”

“I’m sorry,” I say as she falls into my arms.

At first, I hesitate, but I quickly cave, wrapping her into me, feeling the warmth of her thin frame against me. I think I hear her crying as I hold her.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.” Her voice cracks, and we stand like this for a moment too long. “I’m tired,” she mutters.

My mouth parts. I don’t let anyone sleep in my bed, but seeing her like this stirs something inside of me and I think back to the plane, when she had me. We both try to speak, but neither of us gets any words out.

“What were you going to say?” I place my finger under her chin, forcing her to look at me. “Do you want to stay with me?”

A small smile meets her lips. “Is that allowed?”

“Not usually, but I’ll make an exception this once.” I can’t return her to her room when she’s visibly upset. I only want to comfort her and tell her that whatever it was, it wasn’t real, that it will be okay.

“Thank you. I’m sor⁠—”

“No. Don’t apologize.” I place my hands on her shoulders and shake my head. “I’ve got you, Lexi. The same way you had me.”

She nods.

I wipe a tear from her cheek and it breaks my fucking heart. “You’re too pretty to cry.”

She shuts her eyes tight and sucks in a deep breath. “Sometimes … I have these nightmares about my dad. And …”

“Hey,” I softly whisper, wiping more tears. “Tell me later. Okay? We don’t have to talk about this right now. You’re exhausted, Lexi. Let’s get some sleep. Okay?”

She smiles, almost grateful. “Okay.”

I lead her to the bed and pull down the sheets and blankets. She slides in and I move the covers over her, tucking her in.

“Now, you’re a human burrito,” I say, and she grins.

I love to see it.

Brown hair splays around her head as she blinks up at me with bright green eyes. “Do you always sleep in clothes?”

“Sometimes I choose to be naked.”

She gulps and closes her eyes tight. It’s the only time she’s not eye-fucking me, and I know why. My little naughty girl.

I walk to my side of the bed, climb under the sheets, and realize she’s in the middle of the king-size mattress. “Will you be moving to your side of the bed?”

“I like the center,” she whispers, pulling the covers farther.

I shake my head, reaching over and turning off the lamp. Then, I stay on my side, making sure there is space between us so I’m not tempted. Lexi rolls in the opposite direction, and our backs face one another.

The storm continues, the rain pounding harder, and the lightning flickers outside. Ten minutes pass, and I’m staring at the raindrops falling down the windows, replaying it all.

“Easton?” she whispers into the quiet, startling me from my thoughts. I assumed she was asleep.

“Hmm?”

“I’m really glad we met.”

“Me too.” I chuckle. “Good night, Lexi.”

“Night.”

Hours later

I wake up to her arm wrapped around my waist and her body molded against mine. I’m confident I feel her lips and warm breath on my bare back. Then, I realize my palm is gripping her thigh, and my cock is rock hard.

“Mmm,” she says, running her hand across my stomach and stilling.

I keep my eyes closed and focus on my breathing as she slowly pulls away from me, lifting her hand from me.

Right now, I want to laugh as she quietly inches from under the blankets. Her feet pad against the wooden floor of the bedroom and the door quietly opens.

“Good morning,” I say, not letting her escape that easily.

She doesn’t say a peep. We can play cat and mouse, but I’m always the cat.

I sit up and stretch, placing my feet on the floor. After I grab my watch, I attach it to my wrist.

I might not have gotten much sleep, but I’m wide awake, seeing things more clearly than I ever have before.

Only three days to go until my record has been beaten and thirty-four days before I have to be married. And I might have somehow randomly found the woman of my dreams. No fucking way.

Lexi’s right; I am lucky.

I get dressed in a T-shirt and jeans, then grab my Yankees hat and running shoes. When I take the stairs to the kitchen, Lexi is already in there, brewing a cup of coffee. My eyes slide over her messy hair and body in that oversize T-shirt.

“Who’s Beau?”

She stills. “Why?”

“Because you’re wearing his clothes.”

She glances down at the faded name in the corner. “It’s my ex’s.”

My brows furrow and my jaw tightens. The thought of her wearing some other man’s shirt …

“Throw it away.”

Lexi licks her lips and moves before me, lifting it over her head and tossing it onto the floor. “Better?”

My eyes stay focused on hers, and I don’t have to steal a glance at her bare breasts and tiny cotton panties to know she’s perfect. “I prefer you with clothes on.”

She looks offended.

I touch her elbow. “Less temptation,” I mutter, and her face softens. Fuck, I’d stare at her all day if I could.

“Are you jealous?” she asks, her nearly naked body inches from mine.

“No, because you were sleeping in my bed last night.”

She licks her lips.

“I don’t like seeing you with his name on your chest, like you’re still his. Are you?”

She crosses her arms over her breasts, covering herself, and sighs. “No.”

I don’t take my gaze from hers; seriousness coats my tone. “If you’re wearing a man’s name, going forward, it’s mine.”

“It won’t happen again,” she whispers, breaking eye contact and grabbing the shirt from the floor. “I’ll be back.”

When she moves past me, I don’t turn toward her, but I speak up as she climbs the stairs.

“Wear something you’re not afraid to get dirty.”

The sound of her feet against the wooden floor is followed by the door clicking closed. As she’s upstairs, I pull eggs and bacon from the fridge.

When I told the real estate manager I’d be arriving in Jackson Hole this week, they asked if I wanted the chef I typically hire to join me. He stays in the guest house in the back and serves breakfast, lunch, and dinner when I’m present. This time, I passed, so it would be more private for us.

I place a skillet on the burner.

“You know how to cook?” she asks, grabbing two mugs from a cabinet and filling them for us.

“Sometimes. When I’m in the mood. What about you?” I give her a nod as I hook my finger through the loop of the ceramic mug.

“Is this another test?” She smirks as she leans against the counter.

I’m happy she’s not upset with me.

“No. It’s not a requirement,” I tell her with a chuckle.

“If by ‘cook’, you mean bake an incredible batch of chocolate chip cookies, then yes. But I’m known to burn toast and popcorn.”

I glance over at her. “I’m sorry if I was harsh.”

“You weren’t. I needed the reminder and appreciate it. Always truth. I prefer it,” she says. “Now, can we talk about something else?”

“Sure,” I say, glad she understands.

“Check out the backyard,” I tell her, flipping the bacon.

She walks in front of the wall of windows, staring at the mountains in the distance. “Wow.”

“The best view,” I tell her, but I’m not talking about the snowcaps.

Once breakfast is ready, I set the plates in the nook and she joins me.

“Napkin?” I offer, handing her one.

She picks up a slice of bacon and it crunches.

“Well?”

“Perfect. Just how I like it.”

“It’s how I like it too. So, today, I’ve got something fun planned …”

She turns to me and her eyes widen. “Yes?”

Excitement radiates from her.

“Never mind. I’ll let you wait a little longer.”

“You suck,” she says. “A lot.”

“I love building anticipation.”

She chuckles. “And I love being edged.”

I tilt my head at her and she smirks before turning away.

“Noted,” I mutter, banking that information away, wondering if that’s what she was doing when she whispered my name.