My mouth drops open at Boone’s words, and he leans forward to steal another taste from my lips before burying his cock balls deep on the first stroke. I reach out to brace myself on the cool wood, and before I can adjust to the fullness, he pulls back and thrusts again. Fast and then slow. Fast and then slow. The changing pace lights my body on fire, and I grab the edge of the bar, white-knuckling it for the ride.

As he pounds into me over and over, I hold off my orgasm as long as I can, like I’m proving some kind of point.

“Oh God.” I gasp as the climax smashes into me. “Boone. Shit.”

“Give it to me. I want to hear it.”

At his order, the moan I’ve been keeping in spills from my lips. “Fuck yes. Fuck yes.”

He hammers into me as my body tenses, pleasure rippling through every cell. Finally, Boone’s thrusts slow as his cock pulses inside me.

His groan is unintelligible. He lowers his forehead against mine as I haul in breath after breath.

Pounding starts on the door, and we both jerk our attention to the front of the room.

“Oh my God.” I scoot back on the wood at the same moment Boone pulls out of me. “You have to get out of here. Now. Go!”

“I haven’t even rolled the condom off my dick, and you’re—”

I jump down, grab my jeans, and pull them up my legs. Boone ducks behind the bar, I assume disposing of the condom, and I tug on my boots.

“Go!” I motion him toward the back door as he shoves his dick in his pants and buttons them.

“Are you crazy? It’s the middle of the goddamned night. I’m not letting you open the door to someone by yourself.”

“Then hide.”

“No way.”

The pounding comes again.

“I lost my wallet!” a voice yells from outside. “Anyone there?”

I rush toward the door, but Boone reaches out to snag my arm and pulls me back.

“You just hauled in a shitload of cash tonight. Did it ever occur to you that someone could be here to rob you?”

“I can hear voices! Open up! I just want my wallet!”

“Stay behind me,” Boone orders.

“You can’t open the door. He’ll see you.”

Boone glares at me. “I’d rather you be safe than worry about some drunk asshole knowing I’m here. Stay behind me.”

With a huff, I comply. Boone pulls open the door, and a kid in a Vandy T-shirt falls forward.

“The fuck do you want?” Boone barks at him.

The kid looks up, recognition clear on his face. “Shit, man. This is even better than my wallet.” Before either of us can move, the kid lifts his phone and snaps a picture of Boone and me. Together. With my sex hair.

Boone reaches for his phone but the kid is quicker, bolting toward a car waiting at the curb.

“Go! Go!”

With a squeal of tires, it’s gone.

Vandy T-shirt. He’s the one who sold the video.

Boone slams the door shut and turns to me.

“We have a serious problem,” I tell him.

* * *

Boone strides to the back door with the little asshole’s wallet in hand. Someone tossed it behind the bar earlier, the cash missing, of course.

But at least we have his name and address.

“He’s going to sell that picture before you can get to him. Guaranteed he already has the contact from selling the video.”

Boone pauses at the door. “Which is why I’m going now instead of staying to fuck you a second time like I’d prefer.”

I cross my arms over my chest. “That’s not happening again. Ever.”

His expression turns dark. “Because of your damn rule? That’s bullshit and you know it.”

It wasn’t bullshit when the press was accusing me of being a whore like my mama.

“I can’t do this. I’m not doing this.” My tone is resolute.

Boone tilts his head to one side, studying me. “Give me one good reason.”

I drop my arms and straighten my shoulders. “I don’t have to give you a reason for anything. I’m not going to date you. It’s not happening.”

Boone pushes off the door and closes the distance until he towers over me. I’m not short at five foot five, but next to his six-foot-plus frame, I feel tiny.

“Who said anything about dating?”

My first instinct is to tell him to leave, but something stops me. Maybe the memory of the best orgasms I’ve had in months.

“Then what do you want? A rebound?”

He shrugs. “Why not? Who’s it gonna hurt?”

“Me! I’m the one the media says is a slut. Oh, and my bar is going to end up closed in about three months if I can’t turn it around, notwithstanding all the fines I’ve racked up.”

“You let me worry about that shit. I’ll get people here, no more than the legal capacity, and my PR team will deal with the media. All you have to do is—”

I jut out my chin. “Be available to you when and where you want?” I’m joking when I say the words, scoffing at the idea.

Boone’s smug smile is anything but a joke. “Exactly.”

“Get out,” I snap.

Obviously knowing when to retreat, Boone raises his hands in the air and backs away. “Think about it. I’m gonna go track down this little punk. Frisco has my number. You let me know what you decide.”