Dumped My Cheating Ex. Now I'm Sleeping Next to a Billionaire CEO novel Chapter 87

VIP Lounge

Emmy was right in the middle of explaining the pros and cons of opening a restaurant near Southside to Mr. Nelson when a strange, feverish heat started creeping up inside her. Sweat broke out across her skin and she fought to keep her voice steady, determined to finish her thoughts.

But soon, beads of sweat gathered on her smooth forehead and slid down her flushed cheeks. Her vision blurred, little black spots edging in. She swayed, barely managing to stay upright, when a man’s irritated voice cut through the haze.

“Everyone out. Now.”

Footsteps hurried away, leaving the room silent. Emmy tried to move, but her legs felt like jelly, like she was floating on clouds. Then, suddenly, her knees gave out and she collapsed forward.

But there was no pain—just something cool and soothing pressing against her skin. Relief washed over her and she instinctively snuggled closer, like a kitten finally finding a patch of shade on a blazing day, nuzzling her burning cheek against that icy coolness.

A deep, rough sound rumbled in the man’s throat. The hand at her waist tensed, veins standing out as he fought to keep control.

“Emmy.” His voice was hoarse, thick with warning. “Do you even know who you’re throwing yourself at?”

She barely registered his words, her mind clouded and distant. Somewhere in the back of her head, she realized she’d been drugged. But her body didn’t care. She burrowed into the crook of his neck, desperate for anything cooler.

Then, her lips accidentally brushed against a patch of warm, soft skin. It was like stumbling across water in the desert. Whatever restraint she had left snapped. Without thinking, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his skin, clinging to him as if he was the only thing keeping her alive.

Her frantic movements knocked his gold-rimmed glasses off. With nothing to hide behind, his eyes—sharp and hawk-like—flashed with a wild, stunned disbelief.

He froze on the sofa, completely rigid, while the woman in his arms had no idea. Emmy cupped his face, kissing him with a clumsy, desperate hunger, as if the coolness of his lips could save her.

Her lips were soft and fever-hot, carrying a faint, intoxicating sweetness. His whole body drew tight, every muscle stretched taut from his neck to the hand gripping her waist.

He was right at the edge of losing control when—

A knock sounded at the door. “James, can we come in?” The bodyguard’s voice was careful, almost nervous.

James snapped back, his eyes instantly going cold. He pressed Emmy’s flushed face against his chest, using one arm to hold her still as she squirmed. Then, facing the door, he growled, barely holding back his fury.

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