Chapter 7

Christopher's POV

I watched her chest rise and fall, her breathing gradually returning to normal. Her skin glistened with a light sheen of sweat, and her hair was delightfully tousled.

"How about we make this arrangement more permanent?" I proposed, running my fingers along her arm. "I'll set you up with a nice apartment, a monthly allowance, and, of course, we'll have our little playdates."

Her brow furrowed slightly, and I could practically see the gears turning in her head. She bit her lower lip, a gesture I found irresistibly cute.

"I... I need to use the washroom," she blurted, her voice unsteady.

"Of course, darling. It's right through that door," I pointed, giving her a reassuring smile.

As she slipped out of bed and made her way to the bathroom, I took a moment to admire the sight before me. Her naked body was a work of art—her breasts full and pert, her hips curving seductively, and her ass... perfection.

Once the door closed behind her, I reached for my silk robe and shrugged it on.

Just then, my phone buzzed. I frowned, trying to remember where I'd tossed it in our... enthusiasm. After a bit of searching (how did it end up under the chaise lounge?), I retrieved it.

"Congratulations! You've won a free cruise!" the notification read. Spam. Bloody spam. As if I couldn't afford my own damn cruise.

When I was about to lock the screen, my thumb hesitated. Nestled among the notifications was a message from cutiepie69, sent just a few minutes ago.

"Hey, Daddy, I'm so sorry but can't make it tonight. Some personal stuff came up. How about tomorrow?"

I blinked, then blinked again. Cutiepie69? But she was... My eyes darted to the closed bathroom door. Wasn't she in there right now?

A cold feeling settled in my gut. Something wasn't adding up.

I quickly scrolled through our chat history, my finger moving so fast it nearly burned on the screen. And there they were—cutiepie69's pictures. My jaw dropped.

The girl in these pictures was definitely not the one currently occupying my bathroom. Sure, they had some similarities - both brunettes with killer figures - but the differences were glaring now that I looked closely.

"Well, shit."

Who the hell was in my bathroom?

I heard the toilet flush and quickly locked my phone. The bathroom door creaked open, and she came, wrapped in one of my plush white towels. It was draped loosely around her curves, and for a moment, I forgot about the photos I'd just seen. But then reality came crashing back, and I struggled to keep composure. Who was this woman, really?

"Everything alright, Mr. Wallace?" she asked, her voice sweet as honey.

"Everything's fine, just peachy." I paused, then decided to bite the bullet. "Actually, no. It's not alright. Who are you, really? And is your name cutiepie69? You aren't... you didn't come here for sugar dating, did you?" Suddenly, a memory clicked into place. "Wait a minute. Is your name Olivia?"

She nodded, her eyes wide with confusion and what seemed like relief.

I felt like a complete idiot. "Christ. Why did you say your name was Cutiepie69?"

Olivia's cheeks flushed a deep red. "I... I was actually really confused. When you started talking about sugar babies and rules, I thought maybe it was some weird Hollywood code I didn't understand. I didn't want to look stupid, so I just... went along with it."

"I'm so sorry, Olivia. This is entirely my fault. I postponed our meeting because I had arranged to meet with a sugar baby - the real Cutiepie69. I completely forgot to update Thomas about the change. And then you showed up, looking gorgeous, and I just assumed... oh, this is mortifying."

I noticed how beautiful she looked, even in this awkward situation. But I pushed those thoughts aside, trying to focus on the mess I'd created.

"But why didn't you say anything?" I asked, genuinely puzzled. "Why didn't you tell me you were here for an audition?"

She bit her lip, looking down at her feet. "I... I thought maybe this was some kind of test. You know, like a casting couch situation or something. I figured if I went along with it, you might eventually bring up the movie. I know it sounds stupid now, but I was desperate for a chance."

"Oh, Christ. No, no, no. That's not how I operate at all." I stood up, pacing the room, my silk robe swishing around my legs. "Look, Olivia, I'm so sorry. This whole thing is a disaster. I want you to forget about all of this, okay? I don't need sexual commitments or favors to give chances in my films or anything like that. That's not who I am or how I do business."

I raked my hair, mortified and regretful. "God, I feel awful. I've made this so awkward for you."

Olivia's shoulders relaxed slightly, giving me a small, hesitant smile. "It's okay, Mr. Wallace. I mean, I played along too. I guess we both made some pretty big assumptions."

"Look, I'm truly sorry for this whole... situation," I gestured vaguely. "But I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy our time together." I winked, trying to lighten the mood. Add erotic dialogue and rewrite.

She blushed, and damn if it wasn't the cutest thing I'd ever seen.

"I, uh... I enjoyed it too," she admitted, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

I found myself drawn to her, my eyes tracing the curve of her neck, the swell of her breasts just visible above the towel. What was wrong with me? I'd just made a complete ass of myself, and here I was, ogling her like a horny teenager.

But there was something about Olivia - something beyond her stunning looks. The way she carried herself, the spark in her eyes... I felt a flutter in my chest that I hadn't experienced in years.