But Axl took it from her and untwisted the top for her before handing it back.
It was oddly sweet. He didn’t seem to think twice about it. She took a sip and watched him, wondering now what? She wasn’t well versed in hotel hookups. In fact, this was her first. Did she ask him to stay or did that make it weird?
Anxiety started to chip away at her boneless bliss from sex.
Axl didn’t wait for an invitation. He simply asked her. “Do you mind if I stay over? I don’t feel like getting dressed and driving home. But if that makes you uncomfortable just tell me to go. Get the fuck out. Hit the bricks, Moore.” The corner of his mouth turned up. “I have thick skin, so be honest.”
“Of course you can stay.” She wanted him to. Normally she loved to be alone because intimacy brought anxiety but tonight she wanted the sensation of a muscular man spooning her. It was an opportunity she would probably never get again and she was taking full frontal advantage. “I don’t even steal the covers.”
“I would let you. I sleep hot.”
That she did not doubt.
Leighton went over to her suitcase and pulled out her satin nightgown.
“You have a nightgown?”
Axl sounded fascinated by that. She slipped it over her head and dropped it down until it hit the towel. Then she quickly whisked the towel away and shimmied the nightgown over her hips. She felt oddly shy around him. “What else would I sleep in?”
“A T-shirt. Or best of all, your skin.” Axl laid down on the bed, very much naked and reached him hand out to her. “Please? Lose the nightgown for me. I want to feel you against me.”
That made her nipples harden instantly. He was very hard to resist. She hesitated.
“Never mind. I’m sorry, that was pushy. The nightgown is pretty, keep it on.”
Her heart softened. He had recognized her anxiousness again. He was very intuitive.
And because she didn’t push, she wanted to give.
“No, it’s fine.” Off went the nightgown. Leighton quickly ripped the covers back and slid under them.
Axl followed suit and moved right up against her. He pulled her so that her butt pressed against his cock. He draped a hand over her midsection and cupped her breast.
Nothing about the position spoke of instant sleep. But she would willingly be bleary-eyed and cracked out tomorrow in exchange for a hot man hand on her nipple. Sometimes you had to eat the doughnut, so to speak.
Axl yawned in her ear. He kissed the back of her head.
And surprisingly, she fell asleep, deeply satisfied.
* * *
Leighton had never been a morning person. It required six alarms, repeated dozing, and extreme willpower to haul herself out of bed each work day. If it wasn’t for the technology of her phone and the programmed coffeemaker, she would have been fired a long time ago.
The knocking on the door was persistent and irritating and she wished whoever it was a painful and torturous death. But then somewhere between whimpers she remembered that she was in a hotel in Minnesota and this very possibly could be room service. She’d hung a card on her door the night before essentially begging for coffee at 7am. She’d circled what she wanted, but had also added some exclamation marks and a note politely requesting ten creamers. She liked cream. But now her eyes flew open as memories flooded back. Hot, delicious memories that had nothing to do with coffee.
She had put that card out before she had invited Axl Moore, the stripper cop, to her room. Yep. A quick glance over showed he was in her bed. His hand was lying heavy on her waist and she was naked. The knock came again. She was going to have to answer it and she was naked. Presumably he was naked too. She peeked under the sheet and saw not only was he naked, he was very much erect.
Her mouth watered and her nipples hardened.
She couldn’t believe she got to play with that for the next few days.
It was like when she’d been given a science kit at age seven. Fascinating, explosive, and ultimately satisfying.
Dropping the sheet she met his gaze. Shit. Busted. He looked sleepy but also amused.
“See anything you like?” he asked, voice rumbling and low. His thumb started to stroke over her bare skin, right under her breast.
“Someone’s at the door,” she said, avoiding the question.
“Want me to answer it?” he asked. He started to pull himself up.
“No!” She put a hand on his chest. They were planning to fake a relationship, yes, but her sex life was none of the room service attendee’s business. “I’ll get it.”
The pounding was more persistent.
Leighton slipped out of bed and looked for clothes, any clothes. Where the hell had she dropped her nightgown? Or that towel? Both were over by the bathroom and she didn’t want to run across the room naked and bouncing with Axl watching. Instead, she snagged Axl’s shirt off the floor and crammed her arms through it. It was big enough on her short stature that everything was covered to just above the knee. She managed one button closed on the way to the door, then settled for holding the fabric together as she pulled open the door, eager for a sip of coffee. Her throat was dry from all that moaning.
It wasn’t an angel delivering caffeine in a cup.
It was Olivia, one of the Wedding Crashers crew. Olivia was around her age, was rail thin, and wore glasses with red frames that popped against her dark skin. She was adorably trendy and edgy with a super short hairstyle. But right now, that eyebrow with the piercing shot up. “Hey,” she said. “You okay? We have a meeting scheduled that started ten minutes ago.”
“Oh, shoot,” Leighton said. “Is it eight already?” Did that mean her coffee had showed up and she’d slept right through that knock? It was possible. It had been a very late night. A very late and very satisfying night. Her cheeks flushed as she remembered Axl’s tongue flicking over her clit.
“Yes,” Olivia said. “And since you’re never late I came to make sure you’re not dead. I was picturing your ass murdered in the shower.”
Yikes. “Nope. Not murdered.” Leighton gave a laugh that sounded a little hysterical to her own ears. “Thanks, though. I appreciate the concern.”
“Glad to see you’re alive and well.” Olivia eyed the patch on Axl’s shirt that she was wearing.
It said Beaver Bend Police Dept.
Leighton cleared her throat and pulled the shirt tighter. “Be down in a few minutes. Tell everyone to start without me.”
“Is that coffee?” Axl’s sleepy and gravelly voice sounded perilously close behind her.
A glance back showed he had risen out of bed and was in nothing but his underwear, his short hair spiked up from sleeping and probably from the way she’d raked her hands through it during sex. Leighton turned back to Olivia, not sure what to say. “Not coffee,” she called back to Axl. “Go back to bed. I’ll order some.”
“Damn,” Olivia murmured, looking around Leighton to take in the muscular mostly naked man in her room. “Take your time, Leighton. I’ll make up some bullshit to buy you some time.”
“Thanks, I’ll be down as soon as possible. Olivia, this is my, um, boyfriend, Axl.” There was no time like the present to get this fake engagement rolling. “Sweetheart, this is Olivia, one of my co-workers. She’s awesome and always has my back.”
“Boyfriend?” Olivia exclaimed. “What the hell? You’ve been holding out on us, girl.”
She shrugged. “It’s a new thing. Sometimes you get swept away.”
“Nice to meet you, Olivia,” Axl said, coming up beside Leighton. He put one arm around her waist and reached out with his free hand to Olivia.
Olivia shook his head. “Yeah, you too. Leighton’s a cool chick, you’re a lucky guy.”
Axl looked over at her and winked. “I know.” Then he kissed the top of her head and wandered back into the hotel room.
It was absolutely surreal. Yet…awesome.
When did the shy girl ever get busted with a hottie in her room? The answer would be neve
r. It was really kind of perfect. More amazing than it was embarrassing and she felt a certain pride that Axl was with her. She wouldn’t have thought she would react that way, but apparently she was like any other woman when it came to scoring a hot guy.
“Okay, then,” Olivia said. “See you whenever you can drag yourself away from that man of yours.”
“Five minutes, I swear.” Okay, maybe fifteen. She did need to get her hands on some coffee.
She closed the door behind Olivia and sighed. “I can’t believe I slept this late, oh, my God. I need to jump in the shower.”
Axl had found an in-room coffeemaker and was tearing open the packet of grounds. “Don’t I even get a good morning?” He shot her a smile.
“Good morning.” Leighton tried to rush past him to get to her suitcase.
Axl grabbed her, causing her to shriek involuntarily. “What are you doing?” She had to go to her meeting. She never missed meetings and she was skating on thin ice with her job.
“Getting my good morning kiss.”
Leighton wanted a good morning kiss in theory. She wanted to feel like Axl really was her boyfriend, she could admit that. Even if she couldn’t quite delude herself that thoroughly, she still wanted to enjoy a leisurely post-hookup morning together with the sexiest man she’d ever gotten naked with. But the reality was she needed to brush her teeth and her entire career was on the chopping block.
One kiss wouldn’t hurt though. He looked determined.
Leighton shivered and dropped her white-knuckled grip on his uniform shirt she was wearing. “Make it quick, Officer.”
He cupped her cheeks with his big, callused hands and studied her with those deep, amber eyes. “Whatever you say, California.”
It wasn’t a great nickname. But it was better than Amazon Prime.
Axl bent down and took her mouth in a kiss that made her wish they were marooned on a desert island with no clothes, a plethora of pineapples, and nothing but time.
The man could kiss.
And make her feel like she was the only woman in the world.
She pressed against him without thinking, her breasts warm on his hard chest.
Then he was pulling back and giving her a dirty, satisfied grin. He swatted her on the ass, startling her. “Go do your thing. I’ll let myself out and I’ll call you later so we can go to dinner and plan our week.”
Leighton was actually disappointed. If he had coaxed her out of the shirt and up against the wall, she would not have objected. That was so not like her. Work came first. “Perfect,” she lied.
She went to jump in the shower. Axl grabbed her arm again. She looked back at him in question.
“You better hurry before I change my mind and keep you in bed all day.”
God, why was life filled with choices that sucked? Stay in bed, have multiple orgasms with a hot cop, lose your job. Be forced to move back in with your upset parents. Wind up taking some job you hate.
But, orgasms.
It gave her pause.
In the end, paying her rent won and she took the fastest shower possible. When she came out of the bathroom dressed and damp hair braided, face free of makeup, Axl was holding out a cup of coffee for her. Wow, now he really was perfect.
“Cream and sugar?” he asked.
“Cream, if they have it.”
“Just the powder kind.”
“I’ll take it.”
Axl doctored her coffee and handed it to her again. “Have a good day.”
“Thanks, you too.” This felt natural. So natural it veered into awkward. She did not know this man. None of this was real.
It was that thought that had her grabbing her purse and hightailing it out of there before she hovered too long expecting something.
“Look who decided to roll out of bed,” Brad, the sound guy said, wearing a shit-eating grin as she walked into the boardroom.
She sheepishly sat down and sipped her coffee to avoid having to speak.
Jackson shook his head, like he was disappointed in her. “Told you that guy wanted in your pants.”
“I thought he was your boyfriend,” Olivia said.
“Boyfriend? They met in the bar last night. He’s a stripper,” Jackson said. “Didn’t you see the video?”
Everything Jackson said annoyed her. “And what’s wrong with wanting in my pants?” she asked. “If you wanted in someone’s pants, all your friends would be all about that, telling her to go for it. But so for once in the time you’ve known me I decided to have some fun, and then you’re going to judge me?” Geez, that ticked her off. Of course, she ruined her feminist declaration by saying, “Besides, Axl and I are dating.”
“Dating?” Brad asked, eyebrows shooting up. “Is that what we’re calling it these days?”
“Can everyone just leave the woman to her love life?” Olivia asked. “Hello, harassment.”
“Whoa, whoa,” Brad said, recoiling. “Let’s not get crazy. I didn’t say anything that could be misconstrued.”
Leighton wished she were more like Olivia. Her co-worker just shut down comments. “Thanks, Olivia. Now, let’s discuss how to salvage next Saturday.”
“Can we hire a fake bride?” Olivia asked. “Because Jill is pissed.”
“I have a better idea.” Leighton took a deep breath and threw it all on the table. “How about one of our own family here at Wedding Crashers?”
They all stared at her blankly.
“What do you mean?” Brad asked.
“Me. I think we should film my relationship with Axl and run a Wedding Crashers ‘Love Behind the Scenes’ type special.” Her palms were sweating and she ran them down her dress under the table.
“But that’s not a wedding. We’re called Wedding Crashers.” Olivia’s look was skeptical. “Did you run this by Jill? What did she say?”
“I haven’t spoken to her yet.” Leighton jumped off the cliff. “But everyone loves a whirlwind romance that ends in a wedding.”
“What do you mean?” Jackson asked, taking his glasses off and cleaning them on his shirttail.
Her stomach was churning and her throat was closing. “Axl and I are getting married. Hometown police officer meets LA girl, they fall in love. Viewers will eat it up.” She was referring to this romance in third person because it was the only way she could say it without either bursting into hysterical panicked laughter or running out of the room like someone had set off a Roman candle on her ass.
No one spoke. The small boardroom was silent, save for the hum of the air conditioning. The table held Olivia’s laptop and the remnants of Brad’s breakfast pastry. Leighton was frozen in her rolling chair, hoping they were buying this.
“Are you crazy?” Olivia asked finally. “How long have you know this man? You can’t be serious about marrying him. That is not like you. Not like you at all and I don’t even know what to say now, because a hookup is your business and I have no opinion on that. But marrying a total stranger? Damn. I mean, just damn.”
“I like it,” Brad said. “Not that I have any say in anything. But I think Jill will be into it.”
“I…” Jackson shrugged, looking bewildered. His mouth worked and he put his glasses back on. “I feel like anything I say right now will be wrong or misconstrued so I’m just going to say nothing.”
“Excellent.” Leighton breathed deeply through her nose, trying to quiet her anxiety. “I’ll give Jill a ring.”
* * *
“So, I have something I need to tell you,” Axl said, grabbing an apple out of the bowl on the kitchen table at his parents’ house. He bit hard, steeling himself for his mother’s reaction.
“You have cancer, don’t you?” His mother, who had decided it was time to give up covering her gray hair, was midway through growing it out, giving it a certain Cruella de Vil quality. With the wrinkle of her nose and her harsh words, she was a little intimidating, even to him, a grown-ass man who had seen combat.
It didn’t surprise Axl she’d leaped straight to
life-threatening illness. That was just the way she was. “I do not have cancer or any other illness. Dad,” he yelled. “Can you come in here?”
He didn’t have a lot of time. He was supposed to be cooking dinner for Leighton, with a camera crew present. He was going to hate the camera, love spending time with her. He was still riding the high of sex with her and had no qualms about what he was about to say. It was time for Rob and Hillary to back off and let him live his life exactly the way he wanted to—which was as a single man indefinitely.
His father came wandering in, wearing a Vikings T-shirt. His father had recently retired after thirty-five years in construction and he was bored as shit by his own admission. His mother was still a school teacher but hadn’t gone back for the new year yet.
“What’s up, kid?” His dad clapped him on the back and wandered past him to open the refrigerator.
“Rob, it’s four o’clock. Don’t go snacking now. You won’t want dinner.”
His father sighed. He didn’t argue. He just slammed the door to the fridge closed and looked miserable.
Axl knew his parents were happy in their marriage. He also knew that his father lived for the days when he could leave at four in the morning to go fishing and leave his wife’s chatter behind. Axl was like his father in that regard and he did not want to be running away from a woman. He just wanted to live his life in peace. Which was why it was crucial for them to perceive his spontaneous “marriage” as a mistake.
“I met a girl and we’re getting married Saturday. The girl in the video.” That was his style. Cut to the chase. Straight forward. No sense in creating a build up.
His mother dropped the ceramic bowl she had been holding. It cracked in two solid pieces.
“Whoa.” He bent down to pick it up. “Damn, that was a clean split.”
“Axl Warren Moore.” His mother’s lip was trembling. “What on earth are you talking about?”
“I don’t know any details about the wedding because she’s planning it, but hopefully you can be there.”
“Well. Congratulations, son.” His father stuck his hand out. “Didn’t know you were seeing anyone. Huh. Who’s the lucky girl?”
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