There were so many things to love about Australia. The not-so-great thing about the country? It was nearly impossible to have outdoor sex.

And who wanted to have sex with the possibility of a tarantula looming close by?

So that was why on the day of Nanna’s funeral, while everyone was in the living room celebrating her life, Josh and I were heading toward the staircase. Destination? My private bathroom.

“Holly,” Aunt Sarah said, walking toward us across the polished tile floor in the foyer. And more importantly, blocking our escape route. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“And so am I,” my cousin Lia added.

“Thank you,” I said. “She’ll be greatly missed.” How I kept from sounding like a recorded message after hearing so many wishes of condolences was beyond me.

“And you must be Josh, Holly’s fiancé,” Aunt Sarah said to the poor man who’d heard this enough times today to last him more than a lifetime.

When I’d come up with the idea of pretending he was my fiancé, did I expect my mother to tell everyone?

Hardly.

And she hadn’t.

It had been Dad who spilled the proverbial beans—much to Mum’s chagrin.

Why wasn’t she happy about that? Because she was still hoping for a union between Drew and me.

Ring-a-ding-ding.

What did my father think about all of this? I got the impression he couldn’t care less if I got married or not—as long as I was happy.

And as long as it didn’t interrupt any of his business meetings.

“Congratulations to you both. When’s the big day?” Aunt Sarah asked.

“Not until next summer,” I said. “All the good locations were booked until then, plus I’m so busy with work, I couldn’t possibly begin planning the wedding sooner than that. And then Josh will be extremely busy once hockey season begins.” Well, the latter parts weren’t a lie, and I was pretty sure the first part was true too.

Or at least that was what a woman at the office had said a few weeks ago when she announced her engagement.

Lia grinned. It wasn’t just a happy grin. It was a grin that warned me I was in big trouble. Like when we were fourteen and she convinced me I would look amazing with green streaks in my hair—and offered to color it.

Did I look amazing?

Sure—if you liked the seaweed-stuck-in-your-hair look.

So it wasn’t a big surprise that I was bracing for something worse.

“I don’t know if you’ve heard,” Lia said, “but I started a company that organizes special events, and I specialize in weddings. So I can plan the wedding for you, and I happen to know of a great location available this August.”

Of course she did.

With a smile plastered on my face, I wrapped my arms around Josh’s arm. “Oh, that’s so nice of you to offer,” I said, tone sweeter than honey but far from real. “But Josh’s eighty-year-old grandmother is looking forward to the wedding. Unfortunately, she’s extremely afraid of flying. She would never survive such a long flight. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?” I glanced at Josh.

He patted my hand, still wrapped around his arm. “That’s right, babe.”

“Excuse us for a few minutes,” I said to the two women, “I have something in my eye and Josh was going to help me remove it.”

Hey, I never claimed to be a good liar.

Before they could say anything, I tugged him away from the pair. “I need something to get me through this day,” I told him, voice low. “And mind-blowing sex is on the agenda.”

Josh laughed under his breath. Was this the first time we’d had sex in the shower since I agreed to his friends-with-benefits arrangement while we were here?

There might have been at least one other occasion.

But it was totally justified.

Sex with Josh was a great stress reliever.

We had barely entered my bathroom before I was unbuttoning Josh’s white shirt, and he had the back of my sleeveless black dress unzipped. His gaze took in my green satin bra and matching thong, and his eyes darkened like I was the feast he’d been starving for.

He didn’t kiss me right away. After I stepped out of my dress, he peeled the thong down my legs, then tossed it to the side to join his shirt on the floor.

Next off? My bra. While I might not have known much about hockey, I did know he was extremely talented at removing bras.

“The caterer’s food was good,” he murmured in my ear, “but I’ve been craving the taste of something much better. Something much hotter.” Before I had a chance to digest what he had said, he lifted me onto the bathroom counter. “Now open your legs and let me see you.”

Wetness rushed to my core at his words and the deep, lusty sound of his voice. I did as he asked.

Did I feel vulnerable? Not at all. What had happened downstairs with my cousin—that had left me vulnerable.

This position and the hungry way Josh’s gaze was eating me up made me feel safe, desirable. Alive.

“You might want to turn on the shower first,” I warned. I wasn’t exactly known for being quiet—which was why we were in the bathroom and not my bedroom. But thanks to the bathroom acoustics, there was still a risk of getting caught if we didn’t take the proper precautions.

The smirk on Josh’s face? Made me wetter and caused the ache between my legs to become demanding.

“Planning on being noisy, are you?” he asked. He didn’t wait for my reply. He walked to the shower and turned it on.

He then returned and crouched between my open legs. With his hands on my hips, he moved my arse forward to give him better access. “As much as I love these on you,” he said, unbuckling a stiletto, “they won’t work for what I have planned.”

“What exactly is that?”

He winked at me. “You’ll see.”

And I did. A moment later, he lifted my bare feet onto the counter, opening me up even more. “Now that’s better,” he said. “Then once we’re back home, I’ll have a great memory to jack off to in the shower.”

I chuckled. “Hopefully the memory is as good as real life.”

His smirk returned. “It won’t be, but it will have to do.”

As if he really needed to jack off in the shower to the memories of me. It wasn’t like there was a shortage of women lusting for a piece of him. Nor was it likely he would go monk once we returned to the States.

“Okay enough talking,” I said with a fake pout. “I need a little action.”

And being the great listener that Josh was, he did exactly as I asked—his skilled tongue and fingers stroking my clit and finding all the right places to push me over the edge.

“Oh, God,” I moaned, being as quiet as possible. Truth? I deserved a freaking gold medal for how quiet I managed to be.

All right, a participation ribbon.

The point was that I did try—and thanks to the running shower, no one would’ve heard me unless they were in my bedroom.

Josh retrieved a foil package from the drawer under the sink. Fortunately for us, despite my insistence that there would be no sex after our one-night stand, Josh had still brought a box of condoms with him.

A new box of condoms with an expiry date years beyond the end of this trip.

He removed his pants and briefs and slipped the condom onto his perfectly hard cock. Then his mouth was on mine. Tongues danced together as our hands explored each other’s bodies.

With me still on the counter, he aligned himself with my entrance and pushed the head of his cock in partway. “How do you want this, Holly? Slow and easy—or hard and fast?”

No-brainer there. “Hard and fast.”

With a quick thrust of his hips, he burrowed himself completely inside me—and we both groaned. It definitely wasn’t going to take much before a second orgasm hit.

And I was right. A moment later we both came hard, the softest part of me clenching tightly around Josh’s thick length. The sound of the shower hitting the tiles drowned out his erotic, animalistic grunt.

And so thus continued the rest of our stay in Australia—with me enjoying a multitude of earth-shaking orgasms several times a day. And with me telling myself that I wasn’t growing addicted to them. With Josh.

The flight home? No, there was no joining the mile-high club for us.

There was just me sticking to the rules—no matter how turned on my body was the entire flight home.

By the time we landed in San Francisco, one thing was certain—if I planned to stick with my rule of no more sex with Josh, I needed to keep my distance from him. At least until my body forgot what he could do to it.

That would be simple enough. Right?