Accidentally in Bed With The CEO

"Bitch, you forgot the iron again. Are you really this stupid?"

Meredith's voice resounded through the room.

Naomi didn’t move, she kept staring down at the hem of the gown she was hand-sewing. Her hands were shaking, because of the screams she was trying so hard to hold in.

"I’ll get it right away," Naomi said quietly, standing up.

She was working all night on Isabella’s gala dress and her fingers were hurting. This dress was a design stolen from her sketchbook again.

‘‘She’s actually more stupid than you think.’’ Isabella said from the door, while tapping her newly manicured nails against her phone. “And God, Naomi, do something about your face. Do not ruin the day for me.”

Naomi forced herself to smile. "I'm sorry," she said simply, walking past them to fetch the iron.

She passed the hallway mirror on the way and paused. She looked nothing like the girl she used to dream of being. Her elegance was always hidden under the old clothes she wore.

Later that night, while everyone was asleep. Naomi tip-toed into the attic. It was the only place Meredith hadn't removed her mother's things from.

A dusty mannequin stood in the corner, wearing her mother’s unfinished design, it was a wedding gown with one missing sleeve.

Naomi pulled out her sketchbook from a loose cupboard and turned the pages to her latest design. It was a deep crimson dress with a slit. She whispered, "One day, someone will wear this masterpiece and they’ll boast that I made it."

Naomi’s phone vibrated. It was a text from Isabella:

“Be ready tomorrow. We’re going to The Lexingtons for pre-gala drinks, don’t embarrass us.”

A second message followed, “Or better yet, just stay home.”

Naomi sighed and shut her eyes.

She resisted the urge to hit the wall and scream but instead turned to the sewing machine and began stitching.

The next evening at The Lexington, Everything there screamed luxury, Laughter filled the grand ballroom and the air was thick with perfumes and champagnes.

Naomi walked behind her stepsister, with her borrowed dress and hair pinned up in a messy bun she packed herself and she also tried not to step on the train of her sister's new dress…her design by the way.

“Find a corner somewhere and don’t speak,” Isabella whispered to her, adjusting her ear rings before putting her arms around her rich friends.

Naomi nodded and made her way toward a corner near the bar, her stomach was empty and her eyes kept scanning the room, admiring the decor and all.

Her eyes wandered across the room and she saw a man in a black colored suit. He was tall, broad-shouldered and handsome but he had this kind of aura. An imposing CEO aura.

It was Lucas Bright. Who doesn't know Lucas Bright in the whole country? He was the youngest tech billionaire in New York with a net worth of over 5 billion.

Their eyes met for just a second, or so she thought they did. Her heart stuttered and she looked away quickly embarrassed he might catch her staring at him. She told herself it was impossible. There was no way he would notice a girl like her.

Hours later at home, Naomi stumbled up the stairs. Her stomach was burning, her body was hot and her head was feeling light. She hadn’t eaten all day, and the wine Isabella had handed her at the party was the only thing she took.

Isabella had asked her to take a glass, pointing out that she was so tense. “Loosen up,” Isabella had said, smirking. “This is a party not a funeral.”

When she finally reached the top, she realized something was wrong. The hallway looked different than the one at home. She didn’t recognize the paintings on the walls or the scent of the air.

She wasn’t home, she was still at Lexington's penthouse.

The air here was filled with the crisp scent of cedarwood and expensive tobacco, the scent of that powerful man.

“Who’s there?” A low, magnetic voice, laced with displeasure and warning, emerged from the shadows.

Naomi turned around, her vision blurred as if by a mist. A tall figure emerged from the bathroom, water droplets sliding down his sculpted abs and into his loosely tied towel.

“I…I took a wrong turn…” Naomi wanted to escape, but her body felt like it was burning, her legs giving way, and she fell into a hard, cool embrace.

Lucas caught her steadily.

He lowered his head, his deep black eyes staring at the flushed girl in his arms, his breath catching slightly. She was the only person he had truly noticed in the crowd tonight.

“Damn it,” Lucas’s voice was low and hoarse, with a hint of restraint he himself didn’t realize, “Do you know whose room you’ve entered?”

Naomi’s consciousness was collapsing. This heat wasn’t normal—it was the wine Isabella had given her! She instinctively grabbed Lucas’s arm, her fingernails struggling between pride and desire.

“Help me…” she moaned, her burning lips accidentally brushing against his collarbone.

Lucas’s eyes instantly darkened, the look of a hunter who had locked onto his prey. He grabbed the back of her head and forcefully pressed her down onto the soft velvet bed.

“As you’ve come in,” he whispered in her ear, every word laced with burning temptation, “you won’t be leaving through this door again.”

Lucas’s kiss was too passionate. While kissing the soft lips of the girl beneath him, he tore open Naomi’s inexpensive dress.

His lips slid from her cheek, enclosing her nipple, and he began to lick it.

“Ah…” Naomi couldn’t help but moan, a wondrous sensation she had never experienced before.

Her rational mind told her to refuse and run away, but her emotions and body couldn't resist Lucas's touch.

She wanted more.

Looking at the girl beneath him, whose cheeks were flushed like a ripe peach, Lucas finally couldn't resist and inserted his penis.

In the darkness, Naomi felt a tearing pain, followed by an overwhelming wave of surrender.

She didn't know who this man was, she didn't know what tomorrow would bring, she only knew that this was the only moment of madness in her otherwise bleak life.