The first thing I realized when I woke up was that I wasn't hung over. That was a plus. It meant I hadn't drunk as much last night as I thought I had. It also meant I hadn't been as drunk as I thought when I'd kissed Livie.

Shit.

The memory hit me. I hadn't just kissed her. I'd fucked her.

Shit, shit, shit!

This had the potential to be very bad.

Or, I countered as I forced myself to open my eyes, it could be really good. I was facing the wall so I carefully rolled over. The bed was empty. Okay, that could go either way. If she'd stayed, she could've been expecting too much and turned into some clingy woman who thought we were in love, so I wasn't sure that not finding her was necessarily a bad thing. On the other hand, if she'd woken up completely freaked out and left me, it could be bad. I could only imagine having to explain to my father that my wife left me because we'd had sex.

There was no note, so that was good. The blankets and pillow were rumpled, but cold so she hadn't gotten up recently. I pushed myself up and saw my clothes from the night before still on the floor. Hers were gone. Again, it could be taken either way.

I climbed out of bed, unsure if I should dress and then go look for her, or shower first. I sniffed myself. I smelled like sweat and sex. If I found her like this, she might take things the wrong way and think I was some sleazy guy who'd seduced her. But I didn't want to be all formal now either. And, if things had gone as bad as they could go, I'd have to leave the apartment to look for her. I really didn't want to go like this, especially since one of my dad's spies might spot me and think that Livie had left after catching me with another woman.

My brain felt like it was on overload. I needed a shower, as much to clear my head as anything else.

I didn't take long, not wanting to make things worse if she was pissed at me. I pulled on a pair of jeans and grabbed a shirt, just in case I had to go after her. I was at the door when I smelled it.

Bacon.

She was cooking breakfast. My stomach growled and I remembered that I hadn't eaten much the day before. I didn't know if the breakfast was for just her or for both of us, but I took it as a good sign that she hadn't freaked out and run.

Maybe, I thought as I headed down the hall, I’d catch a break and things wouldn't be weird. Maybe this would actually be better.

When I'd first decided to do this, I'd resigned myself to being around a smoking hot woman with a sexy accent and not doing a thing about it. She'd probably been the first woman I'd ever actually told myself was off-limits. And probably the only one I'd ever enjoyed talking to without the express purpose of seduction. It wasn't like we were friends, exactly, but I'd thought that was where we would end up by the time this was done. I'd never had a woman who was just a friend before.

Now, we'd slept together and that would change things. I still didn't want a relationship with her. Not a romantic one anyway. I didn't want a wife and in three years, I'd still want my freedom. I didn't want to have sex with only her while we were married. The idea of only being with one person for even that amount of time freaked me out. But, I couldn't say I found the idea of having an in-house friend with benefits to be entirely unappealing.

I wondered if she was already thinking along those same lines or if I'd have to talk her into it. Obviously she wasn't going to enforce the whole 'no sex' part of our contract. At least, I hoped she wouldn’t go back to that. I had to admit, I'd be a little disappointed if, after last night, sex was completely off the table again.

It had been amazing. The feel of her skin against mine. How her body had moved beneath me, with me. The scent of her mingled with the alcohol we'd had to drink. The taste of her. How hot her mouth had been and the extreme pleasure of having her sucking on me. What it had been like inside her.

My erection pressed against my zipper.

Dammit. I should've known better than to think about sex this early in the morning. I was usually pretty good when it came to stamina and recovery, but first thing in the morning, I never had a problem getting it up at least twice. I frowned. Now that I thought of it, maybe never spending the night had been a stupid thing. My frown turned into a smile. Livie was just down the hall now. In the morning.

Oh, yeah, what had happened last night could definitely turn into a good thing.

I just had to make sure she didn't read too much into it. She was a reasonable person though. Sensible, matter-of-fact. She had plans and lists. I doubted she'd be all emotional about things. She probably already had a list of twenty-five pros and cons to continuing to have a non-romantic physical relationship.

I hoped at least one of those reasons was that I was a good lay.

I entered the kitchen but stopped in the doorway and enjoyed the view.

Livie was standing at the stove. She was dressed casually in a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved button-up shirt. The sleeves were rolled up and it was untucked, giving her a much more relaxed appearance than was her normal state. Her hair was pulled up, but rather than her usual tight ponytail or other up-do, it was a sloppy ponytail that held her curls in an attractive mess.

My stomach clenched at the memory of those curls spread out on the bed while I'd gone down on her, then when I'd been above her. They were as soft as they looked and I had the sudden urge to bury my hand in them. I wondered if she'd let me do that if I took her from behind...

I closed my eyes and forced myself to think of things other than sex with Livie.

Rotting meat.

Sewage.

My high school art teacher naked.

That one did it. Nothing like good old Miss Havermash to kill the libido. Don't get me wrong. There were plenty of unattractive teachers I loved. Miss Havermash had been proud of the fact that she only bathed once a month and never shaved.

I opened my eyes. It was safe to approach now. I definitely wanted her again, but the need wasn't as urgent. It would give us time to figure out how this was going to work before we ended up in bed again.

I put my hand on the small of her back and leaned toward her as she turned.

She gave me a shove that knocked me back a couple feet.

“What was that for?” I asked, rubbing the spot on my chest where she'd made contact. It didn't exactly hurt, but it sure as hell hadn't been love tap either.

“May I remind you that we had an agreement? No physical contact that is not necessary in public to maintain the illusion.”

I frowned. She was seriously going to remind me of that now? “And what about last night? I mean, when we came back here, we sure as hell weren't in public?” If she thought last night was a mistake, that was one thing. This was something else. She was acting like I'd broken our agreement by trying to kiss her right now when she'd accepted a whole lot more than a friendly kiss not too long ago.

“I do not understand,” she said.

“That makes two of us, Liv.” I ran a hand through my hair. “I mean, you were fine with me kissing you last night. In fact, you were fine with a whole hell of a lot more than that.”

She glared at me. “What are you saying?”

“You're serious?” I stared at her. “It wasn't exactly like I seduced you last night. You were just as into it as I was.”

“Into what?”

“Dammit!” Why was she being so fucking obtuse? “Fucking, Liv! I want to know why the hell you're so pissed about me trying to give you a kiss this morning when we slept together last night.”

Her eyebrows shot up and she did nothing to mask the confused expression on her face. “This is not a funny joke, Blayne.”

“I'm not joking.” I'd never felt less like joking.

“And we did not have sex last night or ever.”