Page 31 of The Fake Husband Deal

Whatever happened between him and Pierce clearly still affected him, even when he tried to hide it under his cool and controlled demeanor.

Thankfully Pierce kept his distance, but the way he was exploring the other guy’s throat like he was digging for gold with his tongue? He wanted Lior to see.

“Do you think I’m too stiff?” he asked.

“Probably not after four shots.”

He laughed and put his hand on my chest. “I think around you, I’ll always be stiff. Oops, did I say that too loud?”

His salt-and-pepper hair still looked great even after he’d run his hands through it all day. He’d ditched his jacket and now wore jeans that hugged his thighs and his butt perfectly. The man was aging better than a fine wine.

“I think it might be time to head back to the hotel and have an early night,” I said, taking his beer bottle from his hand and placing it on the bar.

I settled the bill and pocketed my card.

“Hmm, the things I could do to you in my bed.”

“And I’m sure I’d love them all. Let’s make sure we get there first, okay?” I wrapped my arm around his waist, letting him lean on me a little.

He was at that drunken stage when bad decisions were made. Our relationship was complicated. We had work, reputations, and responsibilities. But we also craved each other. The longer I spent with Lior, the more I felt it definitely wasn’t one-sided.

The least I could do for him tonight was ensure he didn’t make any bad decisions. I’d leave those to Pierce, who seemed to be eyeing a new man at the bar while the twink still hung on him.

I debated calling a taxi, but the night had cooled a little, which would help Lior sober up.

Once we were inside Lior’s room, he started taking his clothes off. I paused for a moment, watching as he unveiled miles of tan skin, salt-and-pepper hair, a chest to die for, and the thick outline of his dick under his boxer briefs. My mouth watered even as my brain told me to do the right thing.

“I should marry you, you know. You’d make it fun, not like Pish, Piss…Pierce, the uptight asshole. He held his thumb and pointer finger together, going cross-eyed as he showed me exactly how tiny Pierce’s dick was.

“Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

“Oh, now you’re talking.”

We landed on the bed together after he pulled me by the waist and I lost my footing, ending up practically on top of him.

He closed his eyes, and for a moment, I thought he’d fallen asleep, but then he opened them wide, staring into mine. “Marry me, Noah. Help me save my company and my home. I’ll even make you happy. I promise.” His hand snaked around my neck, pulling me close until our mouths were centimeters apart. He looked so vulnerable. It broke my heart.

Resisting a good thing had never been my strong point, so when he placed his lips on mine, I gave in. It was a sloppy, dirty kiss, and it took me back to that night at his hotel.

I broke the kiss off and sighed. Well, being proposed to by a sexy, drunken man was a first.

“Turn over, Lior. Let me hold you while you sleep.”

“No funny business,” he drawled as he fell asleep.

“No funny business,” I repeated more to myself than him. As uncomfortable as it would be to sleep in my clothes, I didn’t trust either of us to keep our promise to stick to a professional relationship if I undressed.

As it was, there was an excellent case against us in that respect. Professional colleagues didn’t sleep together.

Lior

My head throbbed like someone was using a jackhammer to pierce through my skull.

“Ugh, you’re too fucking old for this, Lior,” I muttered to myself, even though it hurt to talk. I deserved it.

I was forty-fucking-seven years old. A fact I’d been repeating over and over again to my mother due to the unfairness of my father’s will stipulation. But here I was, acting like a fucking teenager on his first trip away from home.

“Here, have this.”