Page 10 of The Fake Husband Deal

I narrowed my eyes as I heard my own words repeated back to me. “You don’t know me.”

“I know you’ll make it worth my while, and it’s been a long time since someone has.”

The idea of burying myself in a stranger, without the expectation for more, was appealing. It was certainly a good wayto pass the remaining hours until I had to sit in a room with twelve business partners while I found out what my dad wished for the company and me now that he was gone.

I was going to regret this, but the guy was hot. Young—probably fifteen years too young—but hot and willing, and he didn’t seem to have issues hooking up, which meant no attachments, no clingy exes, no awkward morning-after conversations.

I dropped a few bills on the bar. More than enough to cover my drinks and a generous tip.

He was so cocksure in the way he jumped from his stool that, for a moment, I wanted to mess with him.

“Ground rules,” I said, loving how I towered over him at six foot two. He’d have to raise his heels a little to kiss me.

The way his gaze scanned me, he’d agree to anything.

“Ground rules,” he mimicked, licking his lips.

“I’m in charge.”

“That’s it?”

I nodded.

“One rule. I can remember that.”

Cocky little shit. “I’m on PrEP and recently tested negative. Haven’t been with anyone since. Don’t have condoms on me since I didn’t come out expecting…you.”

He bit his lip and swallowed. “Same.”

“Say the words.”

He huffed. “On PrEP. Negative. Tested recently. No one since. Can we go now?”

I liked his impatience. It matched mine, but I could exercise self-control. Case in point, we were discussing the particulars of a hookup in a bar filled with people because I knew the moment I had him to myself, I couldn’t trust myself to remain level-headed.

“We can go.”

He grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the exit. I stopped him when we turned into the hallway leading to the restrooms.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m not doing this here.”

“This place is very clean.”

I pushed him against the wall, placing one hand on his hip and the other on the wall above his head. He went lax under my touch, but his bulge pressing against mine was anything but.

“My restroom hookup days are over,” I said into his ear, my lips just on the cusp of touching him.

“You’re in charge,” he breathed out.

“Damn right, I am.”

This time, I took his hand and guided him out of the bar, ignoring how good his slightly smaller hand felt in mine.

My hotel was one block away, but the way my mind raced and my body coiled with anticipation, it may as well have been ten.

The guy walked beside me with the kind of spring in his step that someone without a care in the world had.