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“Yes,” he hissed. He moved harder and harder, faster, until I was completely untethered, the world spinning around me in a blur of stars and colors.

“Oh my fucking god,” I cried out. “Oh…” I squeezed my eyes shut, everything going black as I was consumed with pleasure.

Graham convulsed, emptying himself into me until we were both panting and sated. He rested his cheek on my back, and I could feel his heart beating quickly, his cock twitching inside me. I wasn’t sure I’d ever felt this close to anyone.

When he pulled out, he lifted one of my ass cheeks. I glanced at him over my shoulder, and he wore a dazed expression. “Fuck me. That’s hot.”

He dragged his fingers through the wetness seeping from me, our desire coating his digits. He lifted it to my lips. “Suck.”

I held his gaze as I opened my mouth, pulling his fingers inside before licking them clean. He growled, and I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen him look more…feral. It only made me realize just how wrong I’d been about Graham, the situation, myself, everything.

I am in so far over my head.

* * *

I rolled to my side,feeling a gentle rocking sensation as I woke, trying to remember where I was. In the past week, I’d jumped from France to Mexico and now to LA. It was disorienting, to say the least. Not to mention the drastic change in my circumstances.

Married.I was married to my billionaire ex-boss. And, unless last night was a dream—and part of me really hoped it was—I’d slept with my fake husband. My fake husband who was paying me to be his wife.

Way to go, Lil.

But god, was it good. I meanreallygood.

I kept my eyes screwed tightly shut, not ready to face reality. As far as I could tell, Graham was still in bed behind me. And, if I was lucky, he was still asleep.

I cracked one eye open, surveying our cabin. The sun peeked through the curtains, and I knew it was only a matter of time before he was awake. Hell, I was surprised he wasn’t already up, showered, and dressed. He was typically an early riser.

Desperate to avoid what was likely to be an awkward conversation—at least for a little longer—I carefully scooted to the edge of the mattress. I made as little noise as possible, pushing out of bed and wrapping a robe around me.

Graham looked so peaceful—lying on his stomach, an arm thrown over his head. I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen him more relaxed, and I softened. I wondered if he ever let himself put down all the heavy burdens he was carrying.

I let myself linger a moment longer, drinking in the sight of him. A wayward curl hung down his forehead, scruff lining his jaw. He shifted, and the sheet slid lower on his hips, giving me a tantalizing glimpse of his backside. I had to bite back a sigh. Last night had been fun, but it couldn’t happen again.

I tiptoed to the bathroom, softly pulling the door closed behind me and locking it. I switched on the shower and waited for the water to heat. My body ached in all the right places, and while I longed to climb back into bed, to sink back down on him, to have him all to myself in the most intimate of ways, I knew it was a bad idea.

Once was a mistake. Twice was… Well. I shook my head, forcing away images of a repeat of last night, because it wasn’t happening. Graham was like fire and ice. Either way, I was going to get burned.

I readjusted my wig and twisted it up beneath a shower cap I’d found beneath the sink. Luckily, I still had a few weeks before I’d need to remove it and give my scalp a chance to breathe.

I dropped my robe to the floor and climbed beneath the spray. I wanted to bury my face in my hands, but I couldn’t mess up my makeup. Fortunately, I had a pencil to touch up my brows. But these lashes had to stay on until we got back to the penthouse.

I groaned.What were you thinking, Lil?

I wasn’t sure whether it was my own inner voice asking me that or Jo’s. Either way, my business arrangement was getting messy.Too messy.

And if there was one thing Graham hated, it was messes.

Which was why part of me was surprised that he’d let things go as far as he had. Was it really about wanting me? Or had he been trying to prove a point?

I sighed, bracing my hand on the cold wall of tile. My thoughts were a tangled mess. This wasn’t supposed to happen. I wasn’t supposed to have sex with my fake husband.

I needed to stop thinking about last night and figure out how to smooth things over with Graham. How to build on the progress we’d made with communication, but also, how to go back to how things had been—at least physically.

I rinsed and toweled off before wrapping myself in a robe. I debated texting Jo but decided against it. I’d gotten myself into this mess, and I’d get myself out of it.

Besides, she was in Sedona for her retreat. And I didn’t want to distract her focus from that. So, I finger-combed my wig to make sure it looked natural. My clothes were still discarded on the bedroom floor, and I tried to steel myself as I opened the door to the bedroom once more.

Graham was sitting at the table in a robe, his hair mussed. He assessed me over the top of his mug of coffee and arched one brow. “Morning.”