His on Demand

To make my dream come true I'll do anything, even put up with an a$$hole like Leandros Kaplan. Four years, five tops and I'll have enough money saved to stop working and write full time. I know lying to him to get the job is crazy and stupid. It's as crazy and stupid as the requirement for his new assistant to be married. I'm not married, and I'm not like his past assistants, the ones who dropped sexual innuendo daily and then would hand him their underwear when he asked for reports. I'm a freaking virgin at thirty-one. 

I swear I never thought I would fall for him, it doesn't matter that he's a gorgeous Greek god billionaire, he's also a jerk who takes pride in being ruthless and cold-blooded. He's so out of my league we don't even play the same game. He's into dating double zero models. There's no way he would ever be interested in a plus size like me.

 
When he finds out I lied I'm not surprised he wants his pound of flesh, I'm surprised he wants it in the form of my flesh, naked for him. The retribution he demands is me, whenever, however, he wants my body. I'll give it to him, everything he demands. He doesn't want my heart or tears, only I can't stop giving him both, and it's slowly tearing me apart. Can he ever forgive me for lying or will that one lie be the end of us?