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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.

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