Page 27 of Rockstar's Fake Engagement

“That’s fine.” I turn, offering him the fresh glass. “But casual and intimate for People magazine? Isn’t that an oxymoron?”

His lips twitch as he takes the wine. “Apparently, we need to show the world our authentic love story.”

“Right.” I take a long sip from my own glass. “Our authentic fake love story.”

Something flashes in his eyes. “Lacey—“

“We should practice,” I quickly say before he can say whatever is on his mind. “For the photoshoot. Figure out what looks natural.” I know I’m tempting fate, but I can’t stop myself.

He sets his glass down on the counter, studying me. “You’re the actress. What do you suggest?”

I move closer, ignoring the way my pulse jumps. “Well, couples in love...” I place my hand on his chest. “They’re comfortable with casual touches.”

“Like this?” His hand covers mine where it rests on his chest, and I can feel his heartbeat racing beneath my palm. His heat seeps through his shirt, making my fingers itch to explore further.

“Yes.” My voice is embarrassingly breathless. “And they look at each other like...”

“Like what?” His other hand slides to my waist, pulling me closer until we’re sharing breath. His thumb finds the slip of bare skin between my shirt and jeans, tracing small circles that make me shiver.

“Like they can’t look away.” I tilt my face up to his, dizzy with wanting him. “Like everything else fades...”

His forehead touches mine, and I can feel the slight tremor in his hands, knowing he’s as affected as I am. “We’re not practicing anymore, are we?”

“Nate...”

“If you don’t want this, you’ll have to tell me to stop,” he whispers, and his breath against my lips makes me shiver.

I should tell him to stop. This isn’t part of the contract. This isn’t what we agreed to. But his hands are sliding up my back, leaving trails of fire in their wake, and rational thought is becoming impossible.

His lips brush mine so softly it might be an accident, but the jolt of electricity it sends through me is undeniable. When he does it again, more deliberately, I’m lost. My fingers slide into his hair as his arms wrap fully around my waist, pulling me flush against him. This isn’t like our staged kiss at the Plaza. This is a slow, deep, discovering. His tongue traces my bottom lip, and I open for him with a soft sound that makes him groan.

He tastes like wine and temptation, and when he breaks the kiss to trail his lips down my neck, my whole body feels like it’s on fire. His teeth graze my pulse point, and my knees nearly buckle.

“We shouldn’t,” I manage to say, even as I tilt my head to give him better access.

“I know.” His voice is rough against my skin. “But I’ve been wanting to do that since I saw you in my living room last night.”

“Just since last night?” The words slip out before I can stop them.

He pulls back enough to look at me, and the intensity in his eyes steals my breath. “No. Not just since last night.”

And then he’s kissing me again, backing me against the counter, and I’m clutching at his shoulders like he’s the only solid thing in my world. His hands slide under the hem of my shirt, warm against my skin, and—

A car alarm goes off somewhere down the beach, making us both jump.

Reality crashes back. We’re in his kitchen. This isn’t real. In six months, this ends.

I step back, putting space between us, though every cell in my body protests the distance. My lips feel swollen, my skin burning everywhere he touched. His eyes have gone dark and hungry, and the way he looks at me makes me want to close the distance again.

“I should...” I swallow hard. “I should go to bed.”

Nate runs a hand through his hair, which is thoroughly mussed from my fingers. “Lacey, we should talk about—“

“Goodnight, Nate.”

I practically run up the stairs, not stopping until I’m safely behind my closed door. My heart pounds. I slide down to sit on the floor, back against the door, pressing my fingers to my lips where I can still feel his kiss. My whole body hums with an awareness I can’t shake. Even through the solid wood door, I swear I can feel his presence in the hallway, and it takes everything in me not to open it again.

The truth hits me like a physical blow: I’m falling for him.

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