The Ceo's Contracted Mistress
The Ceo’s Contracted Mistress Chapter 44

Bobbie opened her eyes with a start and then a shriek as she stared into a pair of brown eyes far too close to her face for her liking.

“Jesus Christ, Maximilian! How many times do I have to tell you not to wake me up like this?” she gripped her chest wondering whether it was possible for her heart to beat out of it.

Max scowled, “why are you in here still sleeping? Where’s my papa?”

Bobbie patted the other side of the bed and then kicked a leg across for good measure. “I don’t know. He likes to do that weird thing called jogging first thing in the morning. Maybe he went for a run.”

“Without me?” Max was appalled.

“Max, you’ve never gone jogging before.”

“I want to, though. I think I could go jogging with him and Riggs and Henri at home. Why can’t I do it here, too?”

“Max,” she gripped her phone off the nightstand and wondered when Olivier had put it there. It was plugged in and charging. “It’s not even seven am. Where is Ollie?” She wanted to burrow back into her bed.

“She’s still sleeping. I asked her to get up, but she said no.” he yanked on the duvet. “Maman! The sun is up. I’m hungry. I want to go replace papa.”

“Just because you call me maman instead of mom isn’t going to get me out of this bed faster.”

“Please?” he begged and kept tugging on the blanket.

“Why don’t you crawl in with me and just cuddle?”

“No! I want to go see the beach and I want to replace –”

“Your papa,” she finished his sentence for him annoyed before flinging the blanket off. “Max, one of these days, I’m going to get to sleep in.”

“But not today!” he bounced up and down on his toes excitedly. He studied her sleepwear. “Why are you wearing his t-shirt?”

“Max, I’m going to the bathroom. Go see if you can replace your father somewhere in the house,” Bobbie wasn’t in the mood to answer his questions. It was too early; she didn’t have coffee and he was too observant for her to stall his inquisitiveness.

“You’re cranky.” He muttered as he stomped to the door. He regarded her with a frown, “don’t take too long.”

Bobbie wondered when her boy with the sweetest disposition went as the little dictator nearly slammed the door behind him. Like father like son, her psyche mocked her, and she grumbled all the way to the bathroom.

Twenty minutes later she was standing in the kitchen listening to Max complain how she burnt his toast again and considering whether planning to be on an island with him for two full weeks without any means of escape, had been a sane plan. Insanity was the only excuse she could come up with for her thoughts of having a couple of weeks away from Dallas and the spotlight would be a clever idea because right now, she desperately missed Everly talking her off a cliff.

The sound of heavy footsteps echoed in the wide foyer, and she leaned back in the kitchen to see Olivier coming into the house and she let an expletive past her lips. He was wearing a pair of swim trunks hung low on his h**s and his chiseled abs and sharp vee disappearing into them made her long to lick a trail through the glistening sweat to replace whatever was under those shorts. He was sweaty and his hair was mussed, and he was pulling earbuds out of his ear, unaware he was being undressed by her eyes. The man was built like a master sculptor had etched his body out of marble and he was veiny and rippled from whatever activity, jogging she presumed, he had just come inside from performing.

“f**k,” she muttered again as she licked the rim of her coffee cup to catch the droplet spilling down the side.

He heard her and turned his head in her direction and grinned, “good morning. You’re up early.”

“Max woke me up. Wouldn’t let me sleep.”

He stepped closer to them, “I went for a run,” he rubbed Max’s shoulder and kissed his cheek.

“I told you, maman,” he said accusingly. “Papa, next time you go for a run, can I come too?”

“Do you like to run?” Olivier asked as he made himself a coffee.

“I run track and field at school.” He nodded vigorously as he tucked into toast.

“Well tomorrow morning you can come with me but we need to go early before it becomes too hot,” Olivier promised him as he looked at Bobbie who was still overtly checking him out. He leaned sideways and placed a k**s to her mouth, “you look beautiful this morning.”

“Liar,” she laughed at him. “I look like I was pulled through the ringer twice. Someone did the thing where he gets an inch from my face and puts his finger in my open mouth to wake me up and disrupted my dreams.”

Olivier whispered in her ear, “I could have woken you with something much larger than a finger in your mouth.” He caught her fist before it connected with his shoulder and he kissed her knuckles, “and you are beautiful.” He looked to her feet, “I told you before, I have a thing for you barefoot in my kitchen.” His grin was broad and teasing.

“Caveman,” she pulled her hand away from his playful grip and couldn’t help responding to how happy and carefree he was.

He took his coffee, “I’m going to rinse off quick. I need to make a couple of calls and then we can plan our day if you want?” He kissed her temple before starting to move away.

“Sounds good,” Bobbie noted Max studying them closely. “Now what?”

“Papa kissed you three times.”

“Are you jealous, Max?” Olivier leaned close to him and kissed his cheek multiple times. “There, now I have kissed you more times than maman.”

Max’s cheeks were red as he shook his head, “maman likes it when you k**s her. She smiles. That’s all.” He pushed away from the table. “I’m going to see if Ollie is awake yet.”

Bobbie met Olivier’s eyes and shook her head as he put his hand on Max’s shoulder and escorted him to where Ollie was still sleeping. The sound of Ollie complaining they were jerks for waking her up made her smile. She cleaned up the place setting where Max had gone through four pieces of toast in record time and heard the patter of his bare feet.

“Papa said I could go play on the beach as long as I stay out of the water until he gets there!” before she could stop him, he was tearing off through the house

“Good thing I already coated you in sunscreen,” she mumbled under her breath. She leaned against the door of the house and watched him as he shuffled in the sand, dragging his feet and making trail marks before falling to his knees to cover his legs in the sand. “Weird kid,” she grimaced.

She turned to see Ollie stumbling in her direction, “good morning, Olivia Rosamunde. How was your sleep?”

“Max and Daddy woke me up,” she m****d as she shoved her nose into her mother’s midriff. “I’m still tired.”

Bobbie studied her face and then moved her hair around to look at her head wound, “do you have a headache at all?”

“A little bit,” she whined and looked at Max in the sand. “Can I play in the sand?”

“You can but I’d like for you to get out of your pjs first and then for you to wear the hat on the beach. Take Max’s hat to him too. Do you want breakfast? Toast or eggs?”

“No,” Ollie rubbed her eyes. “Just juice.”

“Okay,” Bobbie watched her glide away in the direction of her bedroom and shook her head. She wasn’t sure if it was the concussion or the late night, but her little girl was certainly crankier than normal. She poured her a glass of guava juice and set it on the table for her with a banana and then went in search of Olivier.

She could hear him talking to someone and she wondered at first if Ollie had made her way to him instead of getting ready to go play. She pushed the bedroom door and saw him still in his shorts with his back to her, facing the patio doors with his phone by his ear.

She was about to turn away when she heard him speak.

“I don’t care what the f**k he says, he encouraged his kid to beat on mine, Riggs. I want him destroyed. He needs to know there are repercussions for his what he’s done.” As if knowing he was being watched he turned and faced her and held up a finger, “right. I’m good with this. Also, the lady who sold the video of the kids and us on the field. Good, already handled? Excellent. Okay, I’ll check in later.” He hung up the phone. “Riggs says hi.”

She rubbed her forehead, “what do you mean you want him destroyed?”

“I mean, I’m going to repossess his house, his car, make him lose his job,” Olivier said bluntly. “He is training his kid to be a first-class d**k. I have no use for a man like him.”

“You can’t go around destroying people’s lives just because they piss you off,” she folded her arms angrily over her chest.

“Our daughter has a concussion because he trained his thug to hurt her,” he matched her stance.

“Olivier, then we do what normal parents do. We have a conversation with the soccer committee, and we get the kid banned from playing for the season or a fine levied. We don’t destroy the man’s entire life.”

“She could have died!”

“But she didn’t,” Bobbie snapped back. “Normal people don’t automatically run to destroying their enemies.” She ran a shaky hand in her hair, “Olivier, you cannot take the man’s job and his house and his car. It means his wife and his kid get punished. You can’t put a kid on the street because his father is a twat.”

“His kid is a bully.”

“A child doesn’t deserve to be homeless,” she shook her head. “I cannot believe we even need to have this conversation. Did Riggs not tell you how foolish you are?”

“Are you kidding? Riggs wanted me to take him to my grandfather’s oil well,” Olivier grunted, “actually, he had all kinds of other things he wanted to do to the bastard first, one of them involved the rock Ollie’s head bounced off of and then dropping him in the oil well.”

“Jesus,” she threw her hands up in the air in frustration, “call him back now.”

“For what?”

“Put a stop to this nonsense!” Bobbie pondered why she even needed to clarify. “Call Riggs back and tell him to reign it in.”

“No.”

“Olivier!” she stomped closer to him and stood toe-to-toe with him, “you cannot destroy this guy.”

“Watch me.” His dark eyes were blazing as he argued with her.

Bobbie half-wondered if he wasn’t enjoying their argument. “Olivier, it’s not right.”

“What isn’t right is telling a nine-year-old kid playing on an under-ten soccer team to be so aggressive on the field other kids get hurt. Several weeks ago, he pushed a bunch of kids down and the only reason he stopped was because Ollie pounded him into the ground for hurting her brother and they both got benched. This week the kid was coached by his father to not only be aggressive and stomp on all the kids, including a little girl whose finger he broke, he violently shoved our daughter causing her to have a laceration which needed three stitches, she lost consciousness, and her thigh looks mangled. She has a concussion. He coached his kid to do this, he deserves far more than a season ban on his kid playing or some minor penalty. I did research and he’s a construction contractor and he run his business the same way as he runs his kid. He’s brutal and he needs to be taught a lesson. He walks around with his weapon on his h*p like a f*****g cowboy yammering on about his rights but he’s a goddamned bully and he’s raising one just like him. I’m not letting it go with a slap on the wrist.”

“You know, I don’t care what you do to him, but you need to consider the ramifications of your actions. For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction.”

“Are you quoting Newtons Law at me?”

She didn’t miss the way his l*p turned up at one side in the mocking grin her kids replicated with ease. “Don’t be a condescending jerk.”

“Don’t be such a shrieky shrew,” he tossed back.

“I’m not a shrew!”

“You’re being judgemental and unimaginative.”

“Unimaginative? Do you think because I don’t want you to leave a kid in a state of homelessness and poverty, I’m unimaginative? He’ll be what, the third person just this month you’ve ruined after Bernard and Cleo? I think you’re the one lacking imagination. It’s all starting to sound a bit redundant. Maybe you can ruin the lady who sold the video too and then the guy at the airport and the photographer.”

“What would you have me do?” he glared angrily. “I cannot let these things go unpunished.”

“Who made you judge, jury and executioner?”

“Stop answering my questions with questions,” his voice lowered an octave as he stared down at her. “You want to have a dialogue on this? You want to be part of the solution and provide more creative ideas on how to deal with these matters then let’s hear your thoughts?”

“You’re ridiculous! I already told you; the league will handle it.”

“No, the league will allow him to get off with a slap on the wrist and next year when the kids are playing again, Ollie will have a bigger target on her back. It’s letting the other bullies on the teams know they can go around using their fists and bodies to hurt the kids.”

“Ollie is one of those kids, Olivier,” Bobbie waved her hand at him. “She is passionate when she plays. “

“Has she ever two-handed shoved someone?”

“No.” Bobbie sneered at the question.

“Has she ever instigated a fight?” Before she could answer he held up a finger, “instigated, Bobbie, not retaliated. Has she ever instigated the fight?”

“No,” she looked away angrily.

“Has she ever shoved a kid out of the way when the ball wasn’t even in play?”

“No.” She threw her hands up, “all I know is, she has a temper and I know the minute we start throwing stones in our glass house, windows are breaking.”

“You are on fire with analogies today. Well, what will it be Bobbie? How do I ensure the jackoff teaching his son to beat up my kids learns he can’t mess with our babies and get away with it? How do I set the lesson if anyone comes after my kids there will be hell to pay? They are the most important things in my life, and I will not tolerate anyone causing them harm. What will it be? What do you suggest?”

“I don’t know!” she yelled finally her patience snapping as she glared up at him, her neck feeling tight from her position. “I don’t know Olivier. All I know is, ruining a child’s life is wrong.”

“Then replace another way,” he didn’t back down from her anger. “You have today to come up with a plan. Use the brain of yours Bobbie and come up with a way we can deal with this situation in a way the father and his son both learn their lessons. Riggs and I will be having another chat after dinner this evening so you,” he tapped her nose playfully, “can give me whatever thought you have in your head for the bully and his brat.”

She shoved his chest, “fine. I will. I’ll come up with something far more creative and far less horrific than putting a child on the street.”

“While you’re at it, think of something to do with the lady who sold the video and plunged our lives into chaos. She got a whopping fifty-grand for selling a video to a tabloid. Fifty-thousand dollars to put two children’s lives at risk.”

“Fifty-grand?” Bobbie blinked, “s**t that’s a lot of money!”

“It’s peanuts,” he made a face at her.

“Olivier, it may be peanuts to you but to most people, it’s a lot of money. That kind of money can change a person’s life.”

“She couldn’t buy a fancy truck with fifty-grand,” he mocked her words.

“It could allow a person to put a down payment on a new home and provide stability. It could allow her to pay off medical bills or student loans.” She shook her head, “you’ve never gone a day with wondering how you’re going to make a mortgage payment or having to refinance your house just to afford to have a kid or making a decision whether you want to give your kid fresh vegetables or pay the light bill.” She was riled up now. “I’m angry they sold my babies out for fifty grand. I’m pissed about it. I’m more curious as to why. She didn’t wake up on Tuesday and say hey, tonight I’m going to ruin the lives of four people to make a buck. It’s probably more apt a description she woke up on Tuesday with money on her mind in the most desperate way. I’m more concerned about how and why than revenge.”

She looked at her feet as he leaned sideways as if searching for something. “What? Is there a bug or a lizard or something?”

“No, just checking to see if you’re going to need help coming down off the soapbox, you’re on.” He smirked at her when she gasped at his word. “You’re cute when you’re all fired up.”

“There’s not a woman alive who appreciates such a comment.” She felt her fists clenching and unclenching angrily.

“I think you need to cool down. Your cheeks are bright red, your eyes are glittery and angry, and your lips are all pursed up,” he made a fish face at her, “like you’re posing for a selfie.” He laughed when she slapped at him.

“Olivier!”

She screamed when he reached out and flung her over his shoulder. “What are you doing?”

“You need to cool off. You’re too pissy with me. It’s too early in the morning to be fighting like this and since the kids are up, I can’t f**k the crankiness out of you. You can’t be cranky when the kids are near you. It’s too sexy. It’s making my d**k hard.”

“I’m not cranky! Put me down,” she tried wriggling out his grip.

“Daddy,” Ollie’s voice was giggling as they passed her bedroom, “what are you doing with mom?”

“Mom is overheated. She needs to cool down,” he quipped.

It dawned on Bobbie what he was intending to do, and she immediately started squiggling in earnest. “Don’t you dare! Olivier Villeneuve, you put me down right this minute.”

“I will put you down in about sixty seconds, right into the ocean.” He marched through the house and out the front doors and towards the beach.

Ollie was racing after them gleefully excited her mother was going for an impromptu swim.

Bobbie shrieked when he bit her thigh playfully as she tried valiantly to get out of his grip. He was too strong, and he smelled sweaty and masculine following his run and his hands were much too close to her nether regions with the way he gripped her around the waist over his shoulder.

Max’s chortle of excitement only fueled Olivier’s strength as he held her fast and waded into the water and turned to let himself fall backwards into the water with her in his arms, dunking them both completely under the water.

As she came up spluttering and spitting, he was laughing, and he dunked her a second time.

“Not funny!” she cursed him out trying not to notice how breathtakingly devilish his smile was when he was in this kind of a mood. She was supposed to be angry not lustful.

“I thought it was funny,” he looked to the kids holding each other laughing loudly, “they think it was funny too.”

She swam back towards him and lunged at him, pushing his head under the water, and fighting the grin on her face before swimming back in the direction of the shore. “Just for this, I’m not making breakfast for any of you!”

“It’s okay,” he called out as she stormed up the beach, “I’ll cook. You burn all the toast anyway!”

The sound of him telling the kids it was worth it to take maman swimming because she is beautiful when she’s wet made her look over her shoulder in disbelief. His double-entendre was not missed on her and when he threw his head back and laughed, she flipped him off and continued walking into the house. It wasn’t lost on her n*****s were hard, and it wasn’t cold out. Damn him.