Those were the two longest weeks of my life.

London, Madrid, Paris and Venice. All gorgeous places with beautiful people. Exquisite food. Fine weather. I had a gorgeous wife, been on my honeymoon and stayed in the finest hotels some of Europe's best cities had to offer.

And I'd been miserable.

It wasn't Livie's fault. She was just as nice as I'd thought she was. She never complained that we didn't go out together. Never nagged me to take her sight-seeing or buy her things. She'd gone clothes shopping like I'd told her to, but I'd seen the bags and checked the account online. She hadn't even come close to what most women would've spent when not given a spending limit. I had to admit, I was a little curious to know what she'd bought at some of the lingerie stores. I was only human, and she was hot.

I'd actually considered spending more time with her, getting to know her. We were going to be living together for the next three years and would have to pretend to be a real married couple, after all. I hadn't realized just how little I still knew about her until I saw her with a sketchpad and didn't know why she had it. It had taken me a couple hours thinking about it to figure out that she was probably using it to design clothes. She'd said she wanted to start a fashion business. I hadn't realized she drew things old school.

No, I'd spent my two weeks in Europe with my former model wife in the hotel gym and pool. I hadn't been able to get laid, so I'd needed some sort of physical activity to burn off the sexual tension that just kept growing. I hadn't had sex in three weeks, not since the stripper the night everything went to hell. The moment I'd told my father that Livie and I would be getting married, I'd known he'd have people watching me. Dad had eyes everywhere, some paid, some who just wanted to get in good with him. Worst were the ones who were loyal, who saw me as big of a disappointment as everyone else did. Being out of the country didn't matter either. The hotels had been paid for by my parents. A wedding gift, they'd claimed, but I'd known better. Dad had connections that would make sure that even the slightest hint of impropriety would get back to him.

I was sure my father would have a few choice things to say to me regarding the fact that I'd spent most of my time away from my new wife rather than going around the city with her, but it hadn't violated our agreement, so he couldn't cut me off. What I had needed to avoid was other women and alcohol. Granted, he hadn't completely vetoed drinking, just me doing stupid things, but I'd known that drinking while in Europe was a bad idea. There were far too many hot women and I'd known that if I drank just a little too much, I'd hit on someone, we'd end up back in her room and my dad would get a report.

So I'd lifted weights. I'd run. I'd spent hours swimming laps.

And I'd taken quite a few long showers and tried to give myself some stress relief.

It wasn't until we'd been back for a full day that I realized there was something else Livie and I hadn't talked about that we needed to.

Sex.

Obviously, I knew sex was off the table with Liv.

And my brain automatically went to images of sex on a table with Livie. Those long legs. Curls spread out beneath her head.

Fuck.

I closed my eyes and rubbed my temples. This is exactly why I needed to talk to her about sex.

There was no way in hell I was going three years without sex. Drugs, I could do without. It had actually been easier than I'd thought to stop the drugs. Actually, there really didn't seem to be a point to the drugs without the sex or the drinking. I basically used the drugs as a supplement to partying, and if I wasn't partying, what was the point? Getting pass out drunk wasn't something I was really going to miss either. I rarely wanted to forget. It was, again, more of hanging out with my friends and going to clubs. I'd never been a stay at home and drink kind of guy.

I couldn't go that long without sex. I didn't know many people who could, and definitely not someone who hadn't gone more than a couple days without getting laid since losing his virginity at fifteen. I knew there was no way my father would relent on the no cheating thing, and I supposed I could try to seduce Livie, but she seemed too nice for that. Well, too nice and I didn't think sleeping with my wife was a good idea.

I snorted a laugh. There was a sentence I'd never thought I'd hear, let alone think.

What I meant was that I didn't think it'd be a good idea to try to get in Livie's pants when there was a possibility that things could go badly. Sex with her didn't seem like it'd be worth the risk. She could get pissed at me afterwards and want to end things. Then again, if my dad caught me cheating, I could lose everything anyway.

I could find a way around this.

I picked up my phone and texted Livie. She'd gone out to do something this morning even though it was a weekend, but I didn't know what. I had a feeling it was business, not pleasure. Even the little bit I knew about Liv, I knew she was a seriously focused woman. Eventually, I'd need to know what she was focused on, and maybe I'd ask her tonight. After we came up with a plan that kept us both from spending the next three years getting ourselves off.

I didn't want this to be a discussion we had here. It would be awkward enough discussing having sex with other people. I didn't want to do it in the place we were living. Besides, it would probably be a good thing for my dad's spies to see Liv and me together in public, and I really wanted to go to a club.

I'd originally thought I'd need to talk her into it, but I got a text back fairly quickly saying she'd meet me at a club for drinks. Maybe, I thought, now that she wasn't tending bar, she'd be more likely to relax at one. Maybe the realization that she didn't have to worry about saving money for her business would make her more likely to have fun.

I got to the club first and took a table at the back. Hopefully, anyone reporting to my dad would think I was trying to be romantic. I figured it would be easier for us to have a private discussion if we looked like we were being cute newlyweds.

I was skimming the crowd, looking for her, when I did a double-take. I'd actually missed her the first time because the woman walking toward me wasn't the buttoned-up serious bartender I'd met a couple weeks ago. Her dress was modest by club standards, but she looked good in it. A deep green that matched her eyes and a neckline that gave her just a hint of cleavage. She always dressed well, but this was the kind of outfit that made heads turn. It helped that she had her hair down, her curls tousled and wild.

“Liv,” I called out, waving her over.

She smiled at me, a wider smile than I'd seen.

“Good evening, Blayne.” She slid into the seat next to me. “Have you ordered drinks yet?”

I raised an eyebrow. “What would you like?”

“Surprise me.”

And that was how it started.

Over the next couple drinks, I brought up the subject of hook ups. Surprisingly, she was pretty easygoing about the idea. We nursed our drinks, letting the alcohol ease the tension until it became a moot point. It certainly made it much less difficult to set up some basic rules for either of us having some 'social time’.

No bringing anyone back to the penthouse. That was home.

No actual relationships while we were still married. Way too many complications.

And, of course, be discreet. We couldn't go out on public dates or be out dancing with strangers. No checking into hotels with our real names or credit cards. We would, essentially, be having affairs, but it wasn’t each other we would be hiding them from. We didn't have to talk about them, but we didn't have to deny them either.

“Sex only,” she said. Her words weren't slurred, but the edge that she usually had was gone. “I can, as they say, get on board with that.” Her fingers brushed against mine as she reached for a pretzel.

Shit. Was she flirting with me? What had happened to her whole 'no physical contact' stance?

I reached out and let my fingers touch hers, and held them there, waiting for her to be the one to pull away. Her eyes flicked down to our hands and then back up to me. She smiled, a slow, sultry smile that made my blood rush south.

Dammit. If I'd known a drink could get her loosened up enough to be like this, I would've had champagne for us both on the plane and more in our suite in London.

I knew I said it would be a bad idea to hook up with my wife, but she was so hot and it had been so long that I couldn't stop myself. I reached out and wrapped my hand around the back of her neck, pulling her toward me. Unlike our first kiss, I didn't hesitate, wondering if it would be okay. This time, I trusted her to push me away if necessary.

And I went for it.

I felt her surprise, her body stiffening for a split second, and then she was kissing me back.

This wasn't some soft, sweet thing, a kiss to satisfy my parents. That hadn't really been a bad kiss, but this was something else. There was fire and heat as she opened her mouth and curled her tongue around mine. The instant she pulled my tongue into her mouth and sucked on it, my cock went from mildly interested to almost painfully hard.

I broke the kiss, but not because I wanted it to stop, but because I wanted more. A hell of a lot more.

“Want to go home?”