The CEO's Contractual Wife (Olivia and Alexander) novel Chapter 319

Chapter 319

Olivia

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Sunday morning arrived with Alexander already awake, scrolling through his phone in bed beside me. The early light filtering through the curtains cast soft shadows across his bare chest.

“What time is it?” I mumbled, still half asleep.

“Eight. We should get moving.”

“Moving where?” I rolled over, burying my face in the pillow.

“Golf club. Grandfather wants to see us.” He set his phone down, his hand sliding up my spine. “Come on. Up.”

“Can’t we just stay here?” My words came out muffled against the pillow.

“No.” His fingers traced patterns on my back. “He specifically requested we both come.”

I groaned but sat up, the sheet falling to my waist. Alexander’s eyes darkened immediately, his gaze dropping to my bare breasts.

“Don’t look at me like that,” I warned. “You just said we need to get moving.”

“Can’t help it.” His hand cupped my breast, thumb brushing across my nipple. “You’re beautiful in the morning.”

Heat pooled between my thighs despite my exhaustion. “Alex…”

“Just a taste.” His mouth found my neck, teeth grazing the sensitive skin there.

“We don’t have time.”

“Make time.” His other hand slid between my legs, fingers finding me already wet.

I gasped, my hips lifting involuntarily.

He circled my clit slowly, building pressure. “So wet already.”

My fingers tangled in his hair as pleasure sparked through me. His mouth moved lower, sucking my nipple while his fingers worked between my thighs.

“Come for me,” he murmured against my breast. “Quick.”

The combination of his mouth and fingers pushed me over the edge fast. I bit my lip to keep from crying out, my body trembling as the orgasm washed through me.

“Better?” he asked when I could breathe again.

“Much.” I pushed him back playfully. “Now let me shower before you distract me again.”

9:26 Mon, Apr 6

Chapter 319

“No promises.”

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Forty minutes later, we were dressed and heading downstairs. I’d chosen dark jeans and a white blouse, casual but put together. Alexander wore khakis and a navy polo that made his eyes even more striking.

Alfred had breakfast waiting, along with fresh coffee that I desperately needed.

“Good morning,” Alexander said, pulling out my chair.

“Morning.” I grabbed the coffee immediately and took a long sip.

We ate quickly, both of us quiet. My mind was still fuzzy with sleep, and Alexander seemed preoccupied with whatever emails were lighting up his phone.

“Ready?” he asked after draining his coffee.

“As I’ll ever be.”

The drive to Wilshire Country Club took about thirty minutes. Traffic was light for a Sunday, most of LA still sleeping in or nursing hangovers from Saturday night celebrations.

Alexander drove in comfortable silence, one hand on the wheel, the other resting on my thigh. Classical music played softly through the speakers, something by Mozart that I probably should have recognized but didn’t.

“You’re quiet,” I observed.

“Just thinking about work.”

“On a Sunday?”

He glanced over, lips quirking. “When do I not think about work?”

“Fair point.” I turned to watch the city pass by.

We exited the freeway, turning onto tree lined streets where mansions hid behind high walls and iron gates. Old money lived here, the kind that didn’t need to advertise itself.

Wilshire Country Club appeared on our right, a sprawling estate of manicured lawns and pristine greens. The clubhouse was all white columns and elegant architecture, the kind of place that screamed exclusivity without needing to say a word.

Alexander pulled through the gates, nodding to the guard, who waved us through immediately. The parking lot was surprisingly full for ten in the morning.

“Popular place today,” I commented.

“Always is on Sundays. Half of LA’s elite are here pretending they enjoy hitting little balls around.”

I laughed. “You don’t enjoy it?”

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Chapter 319

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I enjoy winning. The golf is just the vehicle.”

He parked near the clubhouse, and we climbed out into the warm morning air.

Alexander came around the car, his hand finding the small of my back as we walked toward the entrance.

Inside, the clubhouse was all polished wood and leather furniture. Crystal chandeliers hung from high ceilings, and the walls were covered with photos of past club champions and famous members.

“Mr. Carter,” the hostess greeted us warmly. “Your grandfather arrived about twenty minutes ago. He’s in the dining room having coffee.”

“Thanks, Rebecca.” Alexander guided me through the main room toward the back terrace.

We stepped outside onto a flagstone patio overlooking the eighteenth green. Several members sat at tables having breakfast, their conversations creating a pleasant hum.

“Alexander Carter!” A man in his sixties waved from a nearby table. “Good to see you.”

“Mr. Patterson.” Alexander shook his hand. “How’s your game today?”

“Terrible as always.” He said with a fond shake of his head. “But the company’s good.”

Mr. Patterson turned his attention to me, his weathered face breaking into a warm smile. “And you must be the famous Olivia Morgan Carter I’ve been seeing all over social media. Gorgeous photos from that wedding I unfortunately missed.”

“I’m sorry you couldn’t make it,” I replied, shaking his hand. “It was a beautiful day.”

“From what I saw online, spectacular is more accurate.” He gestured between Alexander and me. “You two looked like something out of a movie. Though I have to say, seeing you in person is even better than those photos. You’re absolutely stunning.”

Heat crept up my neck. “That’s very kind of you.”

“Just honest.” Mr. Patterson clapped Alexander on the shoulder. “I told you at the office last year that you needed someone with substance. Looks like you finally listened.”

“I did invite you to the wedding,” Alexander said. “You were in Tokyo closing that deal with Nakamura Industries.”

“Couldn’t be helped. Business waits for no one.” Mr. Patterson checked his watch. “Though speaking of business, I should let you two go. Harold Carter’s probably wondering where you are.”

We said our goodbyes and headed into the clubhouse. The air conditioning was a welcome relief after the morning heat, and the space was cool and elegant, with its polished wood and leather furniture.

We found Harold Carter in the dining room, seated at a corner table with a view of the course. He looked up as we approached, his face breaking into a genuine smile.

“There you are. Thought you’d gotten lost.”

9:27 Mon, Apr 6

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“Just ran into Mr. Patterson,” Alexander replied, pulling out my chair. “He was finishing his round.”

Harold gestured for us to sit. “How are you, Olivia?”

“I’m good, thank you.” I settled into the comfortable chair, grateful to be off my feet. “How are you? Feeling well?”

“Good as always. Can’t complain.” He signaled a server. “Coffee? Breakfast?”

“Coffee sounds perfect,” I said.

Alexander ordered for both of us while Harold studied me with those sharp eyes that missed nothing.

“You look tired,” he observed. “Alexander working you too hard at the office?”

“Just a busy week. The Thompson campaign is in full swing.”

“And now Cornerstone,” Alexander added. “Michelle assigned her the resort group rebrand.”

Harold’s eyebrows rose. “Cornerstone? That’s massive. Seventeen properties?”

“Something like that,” I confirmed, trying to sound more confident than I felt.

Harold leaned back. “That’s aggressive.”

“Welcome to my life lately.”

Alexander’s hand found mine under the table and squeezed gently. “She’ll handle it. She always does.

“I’m sure she will.” Harold accepted his coffee from the server. “Julia mentioned you might join us for dinner next Sunday. You two free?”

“We are,” Alexander confirmed. “What time?”

“Six, as usual. Nothing formal, just family.” Harold turned to me. “Victoria won’t be there. She’s visiting Thomas’s parents.”

Relief washed through me. “That’s good to know.”

“Figured you could use a break from her.” Harold’s expression turned knowing. “She can be exhausting.”

“That’s one word for it,” Alexander muttered.

9:27 Mon, Apr 6