"I don't want to be tied down. I don't want to settle down. I don’t want I love you."

—Kid Rock

|| Six Months Later ||

Byun Baekhyun ran a hand up the curve of the back in front of him, his finger digging into her silky skin while her toned buttocks pounded hard against his pelvis. With his outstretched claw, he reached for her light brown locks and gripped them tightly, pulling her head back with a gentle tug.

The philandering successor of BYN Group liked to keep his women varied. In fact, he had strict rules for his flings, which typically involved multiple women at once. He never saw any of them more than thrice per month, and definitely never kept them for longer than three. More importantly, he always made sure things were purely physical. No strings attached. No romantic feelings. No baggage.

Yet, somehow, he had been with Go Chaeyoung for quite some time. For how long exactly? He wouldn't have a damn clue.

There was something about this woman that excited him more than others—or rather, there was something about her body that worked him differently than others. Unlike his previous ual partners, Chaeyoung was just more fun. More willing. More bold—which made it difficult to tell just exactly when he would get tired of her.

Baekhyun gently pressed down on her spine to retain that seductive arc and ed harder into her, letting her insides engulf him completely.

As they rocked each other's bodies and lost their minds to the addicting sensation, their loud voices filled the darkened room with moans of pleasure and heavy breaths.

But just as the young executive was about to reach his , his eyes wandered to the clock hanging above their bodies.

Upon seeing the time, Baekhyun immediately stopped.

"!" he exclaimed as he pushed a confused Chaeyoung down on the soft cushion and disconnected his body from hers. Panicked, he quickly hopped off the bed and clumsily collected his sparsely distanced clothes off the floor.

"Oppa? What—what's going on?" Chaeyoung asked as she sat up on the foam mattress and covered her bare chest with the white Egyptian cotton sheets.

With his anxious eyes still glued to the clock's ticking hands, Baekhyun hurriedly put on his boxers, followed by his pants and wrinkled dress shirt. "I'm late," he answered, struggling to dress himself.

The confused woman tilted her head in question. She was positive he had no immediate appointments nor business meetings this morning—he even confirmed it himself last night before he tossed her on the bed and stripped off her clothes. "For what?" she pried.

Having managed to put on all articles of clothing, Baekhyun flashed a devilish smirk her way. "For my wedding. What else?" he replied as he fastened the last of button of his shirt.

|| SIGNIEL Seoul ||

The elevator opened with a *ding*, revealing a hard faced Oh Sehun on the other side. The chairman's 28-year-old secretary was holding a bagged black Givenchy slim fit suit and a pair of Christian Louboutin oxfords.

"You're running late," Sehun grumbled with a cold voice, unamused yet accustomed to the future president's habits. "Please hurry up and shower, so you'd at least look a bit presentable," he instructed, "they will arrive shortly."

Letting the last part of the hardhearted secretary's statement pass his ears, Baekhyun looked at his reflection from a nearby mirror and examined his current state. "What for?" he asked teasingly as he adjusted strands of hair with quick sweeps of his index finger. "I think I look presentable enough," he claimed, making his grandfather's personal assistant scoff.

"Your hair is mess. Your face is swollen. There's a hickey on your neck—" Sehun started as he scanned Baekhyun from head to toe.

"Okay, okay. I get it," Baekhyun interrupted, but the young secretary, with his unchanging stony expression, kept going down the list of imperfections.

"There's a lipstick stain on your shirt, your buttons are all wrong, your zipper is half-open, your shoes are partly untied…" Sehun continued and leaned in closer. He wrinkled his nose as a whiff of Baekhyun's musk entered his nostrils. "And you smell like alcohol and ," he finished as he extended his arms, urging his employer's grandson to take the items.

Baekhy