He exhales, running a hand through his hair. “I push people away. Always have.” His fingers drum against his thigh. “Being in the band . . . it’s chaotic. It’s loud. I got used to never really letting anyone in.”

I study him. “You let your bandmates in.”

“Yeah.” He grins. “But they’re stuck with me. Contractually.”

I roll my eyes. “So you’re saying I should’ve negotiated a better prenup?”

He smirks. “Might’ve been a good idea. You never know, I might try to take you for all you’re worth when we divorce.”

I throw my head back and laugh. “Take away. You won’t get much.”

“Once you start selling your divorce cookies there will be.”

“What?”

“Divorce cookies. Breakup cookies. I don’t know. We celebrate everything else in life, why not home in on why you started in the first place? Help people celebrate cutting ties and moving on?”

“You have a point.” A very good point. Too bad they’d never sell.

“See I’m good for more than just sex.”

“Are you?” I murmur.

“Are you doubting me, Cookie?”

“I mean, I don’t have much to go off yet,” I tease. He clears the trash out of the way and pulls me onto his lap so that I’m straddling him.

My breath hitches. My heart races.

His eyes meet mine and arch up with the most mischievous gleam.

“Operation Live-A-Little?” I ask.

“No, this one’s called Jase-Needs-A-Lot.” And with that, his mouth crashes down onto mine.

His hands splay across my back, pulling me in against him and then hooking around my shoulders to hold me in place as he kisses me senselessly. Our breaths mingle as tightly as our bodies, but I’m all for drowning in his air.

We might be pretending to be married but this doesn’t feel pretend. The want between us. The need to sate it. The undeniable sparks when his fingers skim over my skin.

Sure, it’s fresh and new and that makes it more exciting but there’s a genuine connection. A camaraderie. It can’t be more than that because we’ve only known each other for a short time, but it’s something for sure.

And when his lips slide down the curve of my neck, when his hands delve beneath my waistband to find me wet for him, whatever my thoughts are on that cease to exist.

Because all I can do is feel. All I can do is want. All I can do is take.

“Someone will see—”

My reluctant protest is stymied by his lips meeting mine and his hands sliding their way up my back to dive into my hair. “No one will notice. It’s dark. And getting caught adds to the thrill.”

“Jase—”

“Are you going to argue or are you going to pull your pants off one leg and ride my cock till we both come?”