Wilson indicated the brown-haired, suave-looking guy who sat next to V. “This is my son Mark Wilson, Sebastian.”

I reached over the table, shook hands, and exchanged pleasantries. Was my handshake super firm—to the point that he winced? Maybe.

“He works for Paramount as a studio head,” Wilson added proudly.

Perfect. Not only was he related to Wilson, but he was successful. I tried to not glower—or bare my teeth at him. It was hard because his eyes were glued to her breasts, and he was sitting too fucking close to her.

“Would you like to join us?” V asked. Her face was devoid of emotion, and I should have been glad about that—that she was okay with us—but instead it just made me more antsy.

I rubbed my mouth. “No, but thank you. I just ate actually. We had a lunch interview.”

“Oh. I hope it went well,” she said coolly and then sipped on a glass of water, her tongue darting out to lick the drops off her bottom lip.

My ribs got tight, and I shoved my hands in my pockets to keep from losing it. I wanted her. Even here in this crowded restaurant.

How the hell were we supposed to just be friends?

“I hear you may be in the next Hing movie, Sebastian,” Mark said, and I swiveled my eyes to him. “It’s a rare musician who can convince that bastard to give them a chance.” He smiled.

I blinked. Was the asshole sincere? “Actually, I think Hing has gone in a new direction.” I shrugged to blow it off.

V set her glass down rather loudly. Her face was white.

Mr. Wilson darted his eyes between me and V, a worried frown on his face, and I knew it was time to leave, but first …

“V, uh, may I speak to you alone? There’s something I forgot to mention earlier …” My voice trailed off. I stood there like an idiot.

Her hands twitched on top of the table. “Sure.” She rose up. “Excuse me, gentlemen, I’ll be right back.”

She came around the table and I bit back a groan. Her silver top was nothing compared to the short black leather shorts she wore on her long legs. On her feet were a pair of tall, black shiny boots. It was enough to make me squirm.

“What are you doing … and where are we going?” she hissed as I led her back to the busy kitchen at Rio’s. Waiters, managers, and chefs scurried in and out as we weaved through a corridor of ovens and prep areas. No one stopped us, and since it was the height of the lunch rush, I figured we had a good chance of skating by.

“Act like you own the place. It works for me,” I said, nodding at a server as we headed toward the back.

“You’re insane.” She sent a wild-eyed look around. “If someone figures out who I am, Blair will crucify you in the media.”

I got to the back of the kitchen expecting to see a back door, but there wasn’t one. All I saw were rows of walk-in coolers. I must have went the wrong way. I strode up to the pastry chef who was decorating some cakes.

“Sir?” I asked and slipped him a wad of hundreds and patted him on the arm. “Need to use your walk-in cooler for five minutes. You good with that?”

“Absolutely.” He pocketed the money in his white chef outfit.

I winked at him. “Keep this between us, and I’ll eat here for the next week, and sing nothing but praises for your cakes—” I looked at his nametag “—Carl.”

He grinned. “No problem, Mr. Tate. We protect our customers.”

“Can you make sure we have some privacy?”

“Damn straight,” he said. “Loved your last album, by the way. Think you can get me some tickets to your next show?”

“Whatever, man. It’s yours.”

Not waiting any longer, I opened the cooler and pulled her inside and shut the door. We were surrounded by rows of cold beer, boxes of lettuce, and big jugs of mayonnaise. Not the most romantic place.

She tossed her hands up in the air. “What the hell is wrong with you? You’re acting like a crazy person. You interrupt my lunch like a caveman and practically pull me back to this cold refrigerator with you—”

“Are you on a date with Mark? Dressed like that?” I glowered.

She tilted her chin up. “He’s a nice guy, and maybe I wouldn’t be opposed if he asked me out—after all, I’m not tied down to anyone … not Geoff or you. But for your information, I’m here to discuss the gala. Both are big contributors to the event and very interested in providing—”

I kissed her. I told myself it was to shut her up, but the truth was she was so damn beautiful. And her nipples were like beacons in her shirt. I wanted my hands on them.

She pushed at my chest—until I stuck my tongue in her mouth and she let out a little whimper and clawed at my shoulders to pull me close.

It seemed I wasn’t the only one who was jonesing for another go.

Her tongue battled with mine, and we escalated fast. I eased her back against the wall, sliding my hand inside her shirt and squeezing her breast. My lips followed my hand, sucking her nipple through her silk shirt. She clutched my hair and moaned.

“I want my mouth all over you, V. Again. I can’t get enough.”

She let out a shaky breath as her hand went to my jeans. She unzipped them, slipped inside and stroked my cock, her soft fingers ghosting over the head.

“I can’t quit thinking about you,” I groaned as she cupped my balls and squeezed. “All damn day you’re in my head … all fucking night I’m dreaming of you.”

“Good,” she breathed.

We were desperate. Hot. Needy.

Hurry, hurry ran through my mind.

I just wanted her.

Just one more time and that would be it. One last time. I promise, I told myself, and then we’d just be friends.

“Why haven’t you called me back? Why are you ignoring me?” I said against her neck, my teeth taking a bite and then my lips soothing it.

No answer. But her hands clenched around my cock, making me hiss.

“Fine. I know what you want,” I said and kissed her mouth hard, my hands pulling at her hair. She returned it with her own fire, her teeth and lips ravaging me. We tore into each other, anger and lust and jealousy and pent-up animal need driving us.

I panted. Out of control. “Spread your legs, V.”

She did, and I propped one of her legs up on a box of beer as I slipped a finger in her underwear and skimmed across her pussy. All the blood in my body went straight to my cock. “You’re so wet for me. I need you—right now. This is all I can think about. You. Me. Fucking.”