FAKE DATING WITH BENEFITS MY BILLIONAIRE BOSS (Ophelia Corrigan) novel Chapter 24

CHAPTER 24

– JAMIE

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The kiss deepened as Simon’s hands slid up my back. I fisted my fingers in his hair, and he pulled me flush against him, close enough that I could feel every hard line of his body through our clothes.

Without breaking the kiss, he lifted me. I wrapped my legs around his waist, and he carried me up the stairs like I weighed nothing, like I was made of air and want and the kind of need that made you forget your own

name.

In the bedroom, Simon laid me down on the bed and hovered over me for a moment, his dark eyes locked on mine. There was something in them-something hungry and careful all at once.

Then his mouth found my neck, and I shivered.

“Simon…”

“Shh.” His fingers traced the hem of my dress, slow and deliberate. “Let me take care of you.”

His fingers hooked into the waistband of my underwear, sliding them down my legs, and I watched him settle between my thighs. The heat of his breath ghosted over me, and my body clenched in anticipation, every nerve ending sparking to life. His hands gripped my hips, pulling me toward him, and I could see exactly where this was going.

And then something hit me.

A memory I’d buried so deep I’d almost forgotten.

Oliver’s face, twisted with disgust.

Oliver: You want me to do what? Jamie, that’s disgusting. No one actually does that.

Jamie: But Oliver, I heard-

Oliver: Heard from where? Those spinsters at your work who don’t know what a real relationship looks like? That’s porn shit. Women who respect themselves don’t ask for that kind of thing.

Jamie: I just thought-

Oliver: Don’t think. And don’t ever ask me for that again.

I froze.

Simon’s mouth was inches from where I wanted him most, and every instinct screamed at me to let him-I wanted this, God, I wanted it so badly-but that insecurity screamed louder.

He’ll be disgusted. He’ll look at you the way Oliver looked at you.

“Wait.”

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The word came out strangled, barely a whisper, and Simon pulled back instantly, his eyes scanning my face with an intensity that made my heart stutter.

“What’s wrong?”

I propped myself up on my elbows, my heart racing. “I-I need a minute. I need to-” I couldn’t look at him. “I need to take a shower first.”

He studied me for a long moment, those blue eyes unreadable. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Take your time.” He leaned back, giving me space, and something in my chest loosened. “Bathroom’s through that door. Towels are in the closet.”

I locked the bathroom door with trembling fingers, pressed my back against the wood, and exhaled.

What was I doing? Simon was my boss.

I closed my eyes, but Oliver’s voice still echoed. “Jamie, that’s disgusting. Women who respect themselves don’t ask for that kind of thing.”

Maybe I should leave. Tell Simon this was a mistake, that-

But I’d already kissed him. There was no taking it back.

A knock. “Jamie? You okay?”

“Yeah,” I managed. “Just need a minute.”

“Can I come in?”

“Probably not.”

Pause. “Okay. I’ll be here.”

His footsteps retreated. I looked in the mirror-flushed cheeks, swollen lips, the eyes of someone who wanted

more.

And I did. God, I did.

I took a quick shower, wrapped myself in his robe, and stared at my reflection.

You can leave. Or you can finally take what you want.

I opened the door.

Simon was sitting on the edge of the bed, shirtless, just gray sweats slung low on his hips. His chest was defined, arms muscled-the body of someone who lifted heavy, not just for show. I swallowed hard.

His eyes traveled over me, and something in his expression shifted.

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“There you are,” he said, low. “Thought you’d changed your mind.”

“Almost did.”

He crooked his finger, a slow, deliberate gesture. “Come here.”

I walked to the edge of the bed, my heart pounding so hard I could barely hear myself think.

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“Simon.” My voice came out steadier than I felt. “We need to set some ground rules if we’re doing this.”

“Ground rules?” He tilted his head, a glint of amusement in his eyes.

“Yeah. Ground rules.”

“Okay.” He leaned back on his hands. “Lay them out.”

I took a breath. “No oral.”

His eyebrows shot up. “No oral?”

“Giving or receiving. I’m not-” I hesitated. “I’m not comfortable with it.”

He was quiet for a moment, those blue eyes studying my face with a disconcerting intensity. Then something in his expression shifted-not judgment, not disgust, but something else. Something like understanding.

“Jamie.” His voice was softer now. “Who made you think you shouldn’t like it?”

I opened my mouth. Closed it.

“It doesn’t matter. It’s just-”

“It was that asshole, wasn’t it?”

I looked away. “He didn’t—he said—”

“Look at me.”

I did.

“Whatever that bastard made you believe, I want you to erase it from your memory.” He touched my hand, his gaze holding mine. “Everything you think you know about pleasure? Forget it. I’m starting from scratch with you.”

His hands found the tie of my robe and pulled. The fabric fell open, and I felt the cool air hit my skin, felt his eyes on me, and for a moment I wanted to cover myself.

“Simon-”

“I want you to sit on my face.”

I blinked. “What?”

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