“That’s a given, Bren. If I catch you with anyone else, it’s over.”

Her laugh is quick and dry. “Yeah, I’m the one to worry about.”

Biting my lower lip to keep in a grin, I answer with due gravitas. “I’m glad we agree.”

“Anyway… Moving on. No spending the night. We do…what we do, and then we go our separate ways.”

“Fine.” It isn’t as though I’m the cuddling type. I like my own bed. I like waking up alone without any expectations of conversation or commitment.

“Also, we meet at a hotel.”

“No.”

“No?” Her voice rises delicately. “What do you mean, no?”

“First off, the chances of me being spotted constantly booking myself into a hotel in New York are way higher than me slipping into your apartment. Secondly, it’s too cold and clinical. I’m fine with us being a secret, but I’m not treating this as some sort of business meeting.”

When she makes a noise of protest, I clench my phone. “Bren, you said you wanted something deeper. Sex with intimacy but without the complication of finding a boyfriend.” Jesus, I want to give her that. I want it so badly, my abs hurt with unreleased need. “That’s not going to happen in a hotel room. I’ll go to your place if you don’t want to come to mine.”

Although, in all honesty, I like the idea of her in my space. She’s barely ever there, and when she is, it’s for our “family” dinner.

“Fine,” she says after a long moment. “My place. One day a week.”

“One day a…” I bolt upright. “Hold on. Back that truck up. No way. We need more than a day.”

“Rye. We’re both extremely busy.”

“I’ll make time.”

“The whole point of me not wanting to search for a real boyfriend is that I don’t have time to drop everything just for him.” An exasperated sound rings through the phone. “Who was I kidding? This isn’t going to work. It’s too complicated and—”

“It’s not complicated. People say they’re busy all the time, but in reality, spend hours doing bullshit. And do not go into a tizzy about that. You know it’s true. Last night you were free. Unable, okay. But you had time, right?”

“Tizzy,” she mutters. “Yes, I was free.”

“Exactly. We’ll meet late. Four days a week.”

That sounded doable. I’d like more, but…

“Four? No. Two.”

“Three.”

“Do you want me to drop it down to one?” she warns.

“Now, Berry, you’ll only regret it if you do. After all, you haven’t sampled what I can do.”

I swear I hear her breath hitch. Wishful thinking, maybe. I’m not exactly breathing steadily right now. Not with the memory of her sweet mouth and just how fucking good it felt against mine playing through my head like a song.

“Fine…two…”

“Three days, Bren. Take it or leave it.”

She sputters at that. “Are you seriously throwing down an ultimatum already?”

Yeah, I’m taking a risk. But some things you fight for. “It won’t work the way you want it to if we only see each other two days out of the week.”

“Gah. Fine. Fine!”

I grin wide. “Good. Oh, but if we want to fuck around on an off day, we can.”

“Rye.”

“Bren.”

God, I love teasing her. Always have.

“Ass,” she grumbles. All cute and flustered. “Agreed. But don’t hold your breath.”

Relieved, I sink back into the curve of the couch. “I won’t remind you of that little proclamation later, sweetheart.”

“How magnanimous of you,” she says dryly.

“I thought so too.” Swallowing a laugh as she growls, I glance out of the booth. Danny, Whip, and Mike are now devouring a pizza together. I guess their spat is over. My stomach rumbles, but I ignore it in favor of Bren. “Now that that’s settled, tell me something.”

“What?” She sounds wary.

My voice lowers, heat running down my belly and under my balls. “How do you like to be fucked? Soft and slow? Hard and deep? Both?”

Her breath definitely hitches this time. “You just went right there, huh?”

I shift in my seat, itching to touch her. “Stop stalling. Tell me something you’ve wanted that no one has given you.”

“Isn’t it your job to figure it out?” she asks in a voice gone soft and breathy.

“Believe me, Berry. I’m going to find all your sweet spots.” Hell, I’m sweating. Actually sweating. My foot is tapping out an agitated rhythm. “I’m thinking more along the lines of a fantasy you want acted out.”

“Rye…”

“Come on,” I whisper. “This is part of the fun.”

“Fun is peeling back all my layers for your inspection?”

“Well, yeah.” I bite my lower lip, imagining said inspection. “I’ll tell you one of mine if you tell me one of yours.”

“You first.”

I laugh softly. “As if I thought you’d go first.”

“So…” she prompts. “What is it? Orgy? Public sex? Another guy?”

“You offering those things?” I ask lightly, knowing she’s messing with me.

“I can only be a part of some of those. I don’t have the equipment for that last one. But, no, none of those are on the table. Except for maybe the other guy thing. I’d totally watch that.”

“I bet you would.” I run my hand down my tense thighs. God, she’s got me worked up. “Sorry to disappoint you, but I’m a rock star. All of that stuff is old news for me.”

“Is it?” She practically squeaks the question.

“Bren, I feel like I’ve seen and done everything at this point. It’s boring now. Empty.”

A sigh gusts. “Yeah, I know. So what’s left? What’s your fantasy?”

“You.”

There’s a pause.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake. I knew you were leading me on…”

“I am completely serious. My fantasy is you.” I close my eyes, and somehow that makes it easier to confess. “It doesn’t even have to be straight-up sex. I have this one scenario…”

“Tell me.” The husky demand cannot be denied.

I lick my lips, my mouth suddenly dry. “We’re on the tour bus. All of us sitting around that side table where we have to cram in close.” Jesus, just saying that much has me panting, and it isn’t even anything dirty. I adjust my grip on the phone, my hand damp with sweat. “You’re pushed up next to me in that tight spot by the corner.”

“Yeah.” She says it like she’s picturing the bus, the way the banquette curves, and how, even surrounded by our friends, we’d be half-hidden there.

“Everyone would be talking. Laughing and drinking. And while you did too, my hand would slide under the table, find your lap.”

I bite my lip and hold back a groan. “You’d have to hold steady, Berry, pretend you didn’t feel me gliding up between your thighs.” My breath hitches. “You’d part them for me, wouldn’t you, Bren? Part those sleek thighs so my hand could squeeze into that tight, hot spot.”