CEO's Love Pursuit: The Adorable Wife Can't Escape

The presidential suite, number 99, was bathed in a soft, ambiguous light. Annie Smith lay curled beneath the plush duvet, a flush warming her cheeks. A warm body pressed against her, and as she shifted, a renewed wave of intimacy washed over her. It had been a night of tangled limbs and breathless encounters, leaving her body aching as if she’d been tossed around multiple times. Her lips throbbed with a tender rawness, and even the simple act of turning over felt like a monumental effort. A lingering headache throbbed from last night’s cocktails. Her eyes fluttered open, and she murmured, “I’m yours now, you know. You have to be responsible for me forever.” A low chuckle was the only response. Annie turned onto her side, her vision blurry in the dim light. A hazy image of a man’s face swam into focus. A hand, warm and gentle, caressed her cheek. “Michael… why aren’t you saying anything?” she whispered, her eyes still closed. The scent of crisp, cool cedarwood enveloped her, and she could feel the warmth of his hand as it began to pull away. Alarmed, Annie grasped it in her own. “Michael, don’t go. Answer me…” Suddenly, the lights flickered on, blinding her momentarily. A pair of dark, intense eyes snapped open and focused on her, jolting her awake. The man, bare-chested, his sculpted torso hinting at hidden strength, leaned back against the pillows, an air of predatory amusement about him. “Who… who are you?” she stammered, clutching the duvet tightly, instinctively shrinking away. “Darling, you can’t possibly tell me you are trying the old ‘after-the-fact’ amnesia routine after your drunken advances last night? You do understand there are consequences?” The man's lips curled into a mocking smile. His chiseled features were sharp and angular, and his dark gaze held a magnetic intensity. “Who the hell are you? If you don’t tell me, I’m calling the police. You… you assaulted me.” Annie’s grip tightened on the covers, her eyes darting around the room. She was scared to move, to expose herself to his gaze, scared he might touch her again. “Sweetheart, you’re hilarious. You practically threw yourself at me last night. I’m a normal guy. What am I supposed to do? Refuse? If anyone should call the police, it’s me. I might just sue you for damages” The man lowered his head, his warm breath fanning across her ear. Sue her? How presumptuous. So, she had mistaken him for Michael. Annie held up a hand to stop him. “What… what do you want?” she stammered, her voice trembling. “That’s for you to figure out,” he said, his piercing gaze flicking over her before he tossed the covers aside. Annie’s eyes widened in shock, and she cried, “You broke into my room, and then you…” “Honey, take a look around. Does this look like a regular room? This is my suite. Number 99.” Her friend, Ida, had told her the room was 99. Had she misheard her in her drunken state? He walked away, utterly unconcerned about his nakedness in front of a woman he didn’t know. What could she do? It was all her fault, she should have never listened to Ida and let her convince her to go wild. Who was he anyway? This was it, her first time with a stranger. Would Michael ever want her after this? Annie pulled at her hair, tears streaming down her face. After a few minutes, she calmed herself, wiped away the tears, and scrambled to gather her scattered clothes. Her shirt, ripped beyond repair, was now a rag of shredded fabric. Her favorite blouse, bought for 50 dollars, ruined. She winced in pain at the memory of her arms wrapped around his neck and the way he ripped off her clothing. A blush crept across her face. After all, she was just a girl who still didn't know much about these things. She grabbed his shirt. Although oversized, it was better than nothing. She put it on quickly. Then, she took 200 dollars from her phone case, and placed it on the table so he wouldn’t accuse her of being a gold digger. Then, she fled the room as fast as she could. As the man emerged from the shower, he found the bed empty except for a small crimson stain on the white sheets. He smiled as he pulled at the corner of the sheet. When he turned to find three red bills on the table, his expression darkened. She thought she could pay him off like that? Was he now a rent boy worth 200 dollars? Annie practically ran from the hotel. She hailed a cab to the nearest pharmacy and swallowed a morning-after pill. There was still a throbbing ache, and she had to make sure she didn't pick up any infections from the stranger. She needed a check-up. Her best friend, Ida, answered the phone, her voice low and conspiratorial. “Annie, what the hell happened? Why did you leave? Michael was looking for you all night and couldn’t reach you.” “I went to the wrong room, Ida. I messed up big time,” Annie sobbed, her voice trembling. Ida smiled. “I told you room 66, what room did you go to?” she asked. “66? No, it was 99... Never mind, I’ve left the hotel.” Ida feigned concern. “Where are you now? Let me come find you.” Not because she cared, but because she needed to know which man Annie had spent the night with. “I’m on my way to City General Hospital. We can talk then.” Annie sounded defeated. Meanwhile, in room 66, Ida and Michael were having a passionate night together. The night before, Ida had suggested Annie use Michael's birthday party as a way to cement her relationship with him. She told her to get drunk and then show her love. Ida had told her the room was 99, not caring that the card numbers of the rooms looked very similar. She did it to keep Annie out of the way so she could have Michael all to herself. All three of them had attended the same university, Annie and Ida both specializing in design. They both had set their sights on Michael, who was two years older. Michael, though, had chosen Annie. At City General Hospital, the gynecologist loudly announced, “You young people never learn! You have a small tear. Just put some ointment on it. Avoid s*x until the area has healed. Even then, you still need to be gentle with each other.” “A pretty girl like this, you’d think he would be careful” the gynecologist added, as if she wasn't already mortified. The examination room had three beds, only separated by flimsy blue curtains. The doctor’s loud pronouncements reverberated in the small space, making Annie wish she could sink through the floor. This was not how she wanted her first gynecologist appointment to go. Annie sat on a bench in the waiting room, head down, waiting for her test results. “Annie, are you okay?” Ida asked as she finally reached her. “Waiting for the results,” Annie replied, her voice barely above a whisper. Ida smiled secretly. This was exactly the news she was waiting for. She had ruined her life, and it all had started with her drunken night with some stranger.