The CEO's Obsession With His Contract Wife

Kimberly.

I always feel dizzy with excitement whenever Eric kisses me. We've been together for two years, and I can count the number of times he has ever sucked my lips and tongue.

He's doing it now, sucking my tongue with reckless abandon in the middle of Chicago's most exclusive club. The elite club.

I don't know how my boyfriend got access to this place that everyone in it reeks of money, both old and new, but he did.

The blasting pop music and the people on the dance floor gyrating their bodies all muffle around us. All I'm aware of is Eric's tongue probing its way down my throat.

He groans into my mouth before breaking the hottest kiss he's ever given me since we started dating.

A beautiful smile lights up my entire face, and I give him heart eyes as he grabs my waist and sways me to the music.

He's happy, and whatever's making him happy changed him from the uptight rugby player I've known him to be to this romantic.

"Wow, what was that about?" I ask, doing my best to keep my voice above the music.

His brows curl in confusion while he moves our bodies to the music.

"What was what about?"

"The kiss. It's unlike you." I say jokingly, even though I mean it.

Eric's eyes go round. "Are you saying I don't give you enough kisses in this relationship, Ms. Kimberly?"

Oh boy, you definitely fail in that department for sure! Eric only kisses me occasionally. Physical touch is one of my love languages, but I don't really mind because I love Eric so much.

"Well, you do..." The lie feels heavy on my tongue. "But I am talking about us being here." I wave around. "How were you able to afford it? And this dress?"

He'd shown up at my dorm this evening with a boutique bag containing this luxury dress and shoes I'm putting on, saying something about wanting to give me a special night.

"Kimmie, are you insinuating something? Perhaps calling me poor?" The corners of his eyes crinkled.

I scratch the back of my head, fluttering my lashes up at him. Poor isn't the word I'm going for. Love bombing is.

Eric and I don't come from wealthy families. I'm from an average-income family in Texas, and his family is the same, only his is from Boston.

We're both scholarship students at DeRieux Dei University in Chicago.

"I didn't mean it...like that."

"I'm sure you did." He shakes his head with a teasing smile plastered on his lips. "Well, if you must know, I won the deal I told you about."

My face twists in confusion. "Deal? What deal?"

He never mentioned any deal to me.

"Uh...the one I told you will make us stop worrying about money forever? It's a ten million dollar deal, babe."

"O-kay, but what is it...?"

"I've started reaching out to realtors to get the best penthouse with the city's view for us. I told you, I'll get you out of that shitty dorm."

He'd never mentioned that before. But then again, this is Eric. He talks in his sleep after a bottle or two of beer. That's probably one of those things he mumbled while knocked out.

But I believe him. And I'm happy about this deal even though I don't know the details about it.

"That's great, right?"

"Of course, babe. I'm going to get you a nice car. Not that beat-up shit you drive to class every day."

"Emily is a nice car, Ric. She's been serving me since freshman year."

I'm one of those people who fancy naming their cars like it's their pet.

He rolls his eyes dramatically. "Don't like seeing you in it. My teammates mock me whenever you come to my games in that shitty..." He pauses mid-sentence. "Forget about it."

My cheeks flush red with embarrassment. Why does it feel like he isn't proud that I'm his girlfriend?

"Tell me about this deal?" I change the subject. I'd rather not let doubt ruin my relationship.

"It's complex, Kimmie. You wouldn't understand. What I want you to have at the back of your mind is that we're made for life."

He hoists me up and spins me around until I dissolve into giggles.

I sway on my feet when he drops me, feeling a little dizzy. "Okay, this is good."

"I have a surprise for you, but you'd need two more shots before I hit you with it. Ready?"

My chest vibrates with joy at the mention of a surprise. Eric hardly ever surprises me. Hence, the reason I'm eager to find out what it is.

He weaves us through the crowd of sweaty dancers and those making out, heading to the bar and ordering four shots of tequila for us.

Alcohol isn't exactly my strong suit, but I expect Eric to protect me when I start acting all loud and goofy like Homer Simpson after a Duff.

The liquid burns down my throat, and I grunt. Eric grins wickedly at me before downing his shot.

He guides me through the crowd to the narrow steps that lead to the VIP section.

His body tenses the minute we reach the top of the stairs, and the burly, dark-skinned men standing there halt us.

Why is he taking us here? What surprises could be there?

"Uh, I'm Eric. I'm here to see..." Eric starts, but before he can finish, a tall, bronzed-skinned man wearing round glasses steps forward and addresses the bouncers.

"Give him a pass."

The bouncers comply, parting to make way for Eric and me. My steps grow heavier the further he drags me into the VIP. It's enclosed with sturdy glass and red curtains. Up here, the music is a dull thump, and the flashing red lights make it impossible to see anyone's face clearly.

"Why are we here, Eric?"

"Just trust me, okay?" He hisses, layers of sweat now dotting his temple. His breath picks up in rhythm.

Several armed men stand around the room, their cold eyes following us as we walk in. I tense beneath their scrutiny, my steps faltering when one of them orders in a deep voice.

"Stop."

We halt.

In the corner sits a man in a black suit, his legs crossed with effortless authority. Dark sunglasses conceal his eyes, while his fingers are steepled beneath his jaw.

He doesn't need to say a word.

Power radiates from him, heavy enough to make the hairs on my arms rise. I can feel his stare boring into me.

And suddenly, every instinct in me screams to run. I hold Eric tighter.

Someone kicks Eric to his knees from behind, a gasp erupting from his lips as he lands with a thump on the marble floor.

"You came empty again?" The dark, gruff voice echoes, coming from the man sitting on the couch.

"No, no, I didn't, I swear..."

"I clearly told you what will happen if you don't bring me my money."

I cast my wide eyes down at Eric. "Eric, what's he talking about?"

"Just shut up, Kimmie, and let me handle this." Eric snaps, cutting me off.

Tension crowds my chest until it's hard to breathe properly.

"Roughen him up," the man commands.

The glasses guy from earlier steps forward and drives his balled fist straight into Eric's face.

Time slows as I watch my boyfriend get beaten up.

"Stop! Please!" I scream, afraid of Eric being beaten to death. "What did he do?" I bark, looking at each one of them until my gaze lands on the boss. I can hardly see his features with the overhead red lights.

He signals the guy to stop punching Eric and looks intently at me through his glasses.

"How about you ask your boyfriend?" He says, lifting a glass to his lips.

"Eric, what's happening?"

Eric ignores my question and sputters rapidly to the boss. "I promised to get you something, boss, something you can have until I get...all the money."

The man doesn't flinch. Hardly moves.

What's he saying? I stare blankly at Eric as he shakes in my arms.

"And what might that be? What do you think can make up the ten million you owe me?"

Eric's trembling finger points to me. "H-her. Please just take her."

My jaw drops. I look disbelievingly at Eric, hoping that whatever is happening now is a scene in a comic book.

He possibly can't be using me to pay his debt, can he?