I need to get out of here. But how? Her clothes were scattered along the floor and furniture, and the very hot movie star was snoring softly less than a foot away. It was adorable that he snored. A tiny flaw in an otherwise seemingly perfect man.

     Last night, everyone else had loaded into cabs and Ubers, but the train that would take Abbie back home wasn’t far; Abbie had told them she was going to have some water and then walk to the train station. She’d done it plenty of times before.

     Except last night she didn’t go home.

     Oh, no. Nope.

     She’d found Derek Hartley alone at the bar, large hand wrapped around a glass of amber liquid, and she’d started a conversation.

     Abbie had already chatted with him at the convention that week, while she’d run around as a volunteer, helping coordinate lines and panels and such. She’d helped run his autograph table a couple of times, and he’d been funny and easy to work with.

     Then last night there he was. A beautiful, lonely man. She’d assumed he was lonely, at least.

     A man who isn’t lonely wouldn’t drink alone at a bar at almost one in the morning.

     She’d asked him about his latest project, his favorite place to film, his favorite role. He’d asked her about her job, if she had any pets, did she travel? He’d bought her a couple of drinks. They kept moving in closer and closer during their conversation, until his hand was on her thigh, and hers was on his arm.

     Electricity had coursed between them as the conversation turned to the ebb and flow of the loneliness of being single, of the need for human connection, human contact. His knee bumped hers, her hand traced lines on his. Abbie enjoyed being single, making her own choices, and not having to answer to someone all the time. It was mostly okay, until she craved some form of physical connection.

     Abbie couldn’t remember who had touched who first, or who had kissed who first. But she had another flash...her arm pinned against the wall of the elevator…his lips and teeth grazed across her neck as she watched the numbers crawl higher and higher. A ding and his lips were gone, her arm around his waist instead of over her head. Derek leading her down the hotel hallway to his door, his arm around her, mouth against her hair, whispers of sinful things.

     She stared at Derek’s peaceful face and swore his lips looked swollen. Her fingers touched her own; they were swollen too, and there was some delicious soreness in her muscles.

     But Abbie knew better than to stay. Any sort of actual relationship between them would never work. One-night stands with hot movie stars never turn into a happily ever after.

     He was Derek freaking Hartley, fan-favorite action star. And she was...Abbie. She had zero desire to become scrutinized by the tabloids and internet. She saw how revered celebrities were, and how quickly that same love could turn into anger and animosity. There was no way she’d measure up. It wasn’t what she wanted for her life.

     It was better to avoid the awkward goodbye and just disappear. She extracted herself from the comforter and slid off the bed. Abbie crawled on all fours until she found her skirt from last night, tucked under a chair. She rolled onto her back and slid it on. She spotted her bra near the nightstand, on Derek’s side of the bed, next to an opened gold foil wrapper. Abbie made her way around the bed and up the other side. She grabbed the bra and hightailed it back to the foot of the bed. She slid on her bra and got it hooked when her shirt dangled in front of her.

     “Looking for this?” There was gravel in Derek’s voice.

     Abbie tilted her head up; blush rushed to her cheeks.

     “Uh, yes. Thanks.” She went to grab the shirt, but Derek pulled it out of reach.

     “Sneaking out?”

     Caught red-handed. Just her luck. Not even able to sneak out after the hottest sex of her life. Figures.

     “No... Just...uh...just getting dressed.”

     “So that you could sneak out.” There was a hint of a grin on Derek’s face.

     Abbie stayed silent. He wasn’t wrong, but she didn’t want to admit it.

     “You know, it’s rude to not even say good morning.” The grin got wider.

     “I didn’t want to wake you.” She stood and tried again to grab her shirt, but he again pulled it out of reach.

     “A man could get the wrong idea, seeing you sneaking out half dressed. Like maybe he did something wrong.”

     “Oh, no, no. No.”

     “So...no?” Derek climbed off the bed and stalked toward her.

     She backed up and watched the sheets around his waist slide away. Abbie swallowed hard when she saw the black boxers that did very little to hide his morning erection.

     Heat bloomed low in her body, and she backed up even faster, her words tumbling out. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You did...a lot of things right. It’s just...I should get home, change, get ready for the last day of the convention.” Abbie bumped into a chair and went flying.

     Strong arms surrounded her and kept her from hitting the floor.

     She stared up into ocean-blue eyes and knew if she stayed, she would be ruined forever. There would just be no way for anyone to compete. If she were honest with herself, she was already dancing along the edge of falling for this man. Derek was handsome, funny, and kind. A lot of people underestimated the impact of kindness. The conversation last night flowed easily, and the sex had been earth-shattering.

     But that was just a fantasy. It wouldn’t work between them, with his life in the spotlight and her desire to not live a life under scrutiny from strangers.

     Derek leaned down to whisper, “The last day of the convention was yesterday.” 

     Abbie shivered as his breath caressed her ear. “Right.” It had been a small convention, in terms of size; the first one put on by a new company, and it had run from Wednesday to Friday. Which was yesterday.

     She backed into a wall, the red and gold wallpaper rubbing against her bare skin. Derek boxed her in with his arms, his hips dangerously close to hers. She felt his chest rise and fall against hers, the thin fabric of her bra doing very little work as a barrier. She ached for him, which was insane. They’d spent some time together during the convention and one night together. Abbie needed to get a grip.

     “You could stay.”

     The impulse and temptation to relive the previous night was almost too good to pass up. Oh no, stay strong.“What?”

     “Stay. With me, for the weekend.”

     There was no way he was serious. “What exactly are you proposing?”

     A devilish smile crossed Derek’s face, and as he trailed a hand up her hip, fire ignited under her skin. “It’s a long holiday weekend. If you don’t already have plans, I’m thinking four days of no-strings fun. Food, drinks if you want them, and more of what we did last night. A lot more of it…if you’re up for it.” He raised an eyebrow.

     Oh, she was up for the challenge. Even though she knew it was a terrible idea.

     Four days of no-strings, no-holds-barred fun, and even more of the best sex of her life with one of the hottest men in the world? There had to be a catch.

     “You don’t have plans for the holiday weekend?”

     Derek shook his head. “My plans fell through earlier this week.” He maneuvered his leg between hers, his thigh pressed against her just enough to tease. She almost whimpered. “What do you think? You, me, and a weekend of sin.”

     Abbie bit her lip. It was tempting, so very tempting. “And after the weekend?”

     “Then we go our separate ways.”

     Abbie was quiet for a few moments. She didn’t need to be back at the office until Wednesday, having had the almost prophetic foresight to take off the Tuesday after Memorial Day. There was nobody waiting for her at her one-bedroom apartment, and there was no airline ticket to have to rebook, because the convention had been an hour and a half train ride from home.

     This was an insane idea. She was crazy for even considering it.

     Derek smiled again, his thigh still between her legs, hand on her hip. He brushed his thumb against the bare skin just above her skirt. She shivered.

     Then she remembered the electricity she’d felt every time they’d brushed against each other last night at the bar, and how her heart had fluttered every time he smiled. How his lips had felt against her skin just a few hours ago.

     Any shred of self-control she might have had unraveled.

     What’s the worst that could happen? Chafing?

     “I’m in.”

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