As the cold rain pelted them, Jamar drove his tongue deep, over and over again, plunging with a fervor that had them both breathless within seconds. He left her mouth long enough to trail his tongue along her neck, lapping at her rain-slicked skin, imagining the other places he wanted to explore. Holding her steady with one hand, he skimmed the other along her side, then up to her breast.

She was sheer perfection in his palm. He massaged her nipple through her damp shirt, caressing it into a point.

In the back of his mind, he knew he needed to pump the brakes. They were already so close to crossing the line between real and pretend. But how was he supposed to say no to this? How was he supposed to pull away from a mouth that occupied his every waking thought?

He would deal with the consequences later. Right now, he wanted—he needed—to enjoy every second of her kiss. His fingers clutched her ass, pulling her against his hardening body. The compulsion to go further, to demand more, was so strong he ached with it. If they were at his home gym, he would drop to his knees and beg her to let him strip these clothes off her.

But they were in a public park where anyone could come upon them. They wanted people to think they were a couple, but this wasn’t the kind of notoriety either of them needed.

“Taylor,” Jamar breathed against her lips. The soft mewl she emitted shot directly to his groin. “Taylor, let’s get out of here. We need to at least wait until we’re in the car.”

He felt her body go rigid a second before her head jerked back, her eyes wide, shocked and disoriented.

He started to make a joke, but something in her expression stopped him. She looked spooked as hell.

“Taylor? Taylor, please don’t freak out on me. It’s okay.”

“No.” Her voice shook. “No, it isn’t.” She unwound her legs and slid down his body. “I can’t do this with my clients. I never do this with clients.”

“Shit,” he breathed. She was totally freaking out. Her hands shook as she pulled her braids free from the band that held them at the base of her head and then tied them up again.

Jamar leaned his head back against the tree, letting the rain that had eased into a light drizzle pepper his face.

“We have to remember the playbook,” she said. “Public displays of affection should only occur when performing for the public.”

“Do you really still think that way?” he asked, his voice hoarse with the need still crashing through him.

One would think he’d asked if her mother had five heads and a tail.

“Yes, of course. The whole point is to convince people that we’re a couple.” She stretched her arms out. “Do you see any people here?”