The Bossy Prince (Rugged and Royal #3) - Lili Valente Page 0,81

off all of your clothes, and riding me like the last roller coaster left standing?”

My eyeballs attempt to leap out of my skull, but thankfully there are muscles and ligaments in place to keep things like that from happening.

There are not, unfortunately, muscles in place to keep my tongue from flapping. “I did not, you dirty liar.”

“So you do remember,” he says, pointing a victorious finger at my face. “Now who’s the dirty liar, Larry?”

“Don’t call me that,” I mutter automatically, even though I love it when he uses the old nickname. And I hate it, and love to hate it, just like I love to hate this Lost Boy who keeps tempting me off the beaten path and into the jungles of Neverland.

Though, I’m the one who did the tempting this time. I still can’t quite wrap my head around what I did. Just…pouncing on him like that, with no consideration for the consequences or potential fallout. It’s so out of character that there can be only one reasonable explanation.

“Sex deprivation,” I whisper as he stretches out beside me, lying backward on his reclined chair so his head is close to mine. “It finally drove me over the edge of reason. I’m sorry.”

His brows snap together as he exhales. “Why are you sorry? You’re a great kisser, and I think your plan is brilliant.”

I bite my lip, but finally can’t help but ask, “What plan is that again?”

“The Fuck Buddy Last Hoorah Sex-Cation in Vegas plan,” he says in a tone that makes me suspect we must have officially named this plan sometime last night. “It’s a win-win. You break your sex fast and get the orgasms you so richly deserve, I make the most of my last week before I put on my chastity belt without risking any messy romantic entanglements, and we both come home with stories we can never tell anyone else, further ensuring the longevity of our unique friend bond.”

I smile weakly. “Sounds like a win, win, win.”

“Exactly.” He beams, his eyes glittering like dying stars. They always burn brightest right before they burn out—yet another reason I can’t go through with this, even if I thought it was a good idea now that I’m sober.

Colin is at a critical time in his career. He needs to relax, focus, and believe that he can craft a third album as uniquely heartfelt, yet radio ready, as the first two. He doesn’t need to complicate his relationship with the one person in his life he can trust not to blow smoke up his ass.

And I need…

Well, I need to get naked with Colin like I need my hands to fall off. Colin would wreck me; I just know it. He wouldn’t mean to do it, not even a little bit, but it would happen all the same.

I have to undo this. Reel the line back in before I catch something way too big for my boat.

“But I hate Vegas,” I say.

“You’ve never been to Vegas.”

I wrinkle my nose, cursing his steel-trap of a memory. “Yeah, well, some things you know you’re going to hate without having to experience them firsthand. Like bread pudding.”

“The kind with rum is actually pretty good.” Colin shifts onto his side, propping up on one arm as he draws my blanket over to cover him as well. “And Vegas can be a blast. You just have to know where to go, and I’ve already thought of at least five things I want to show you.”

“Like what?” I ask, intrigued in spite of myself. Colin can be unpredictable, but he’s also an excellent travel companion. He always finds the hidden gems the other tourists overlook.

“Like the Neon and Antique Sign Museum,” he says, his brows bobbing up and down beneath his shaggy hair. “Four acres of vintage signage, including a giant neon clown rumored to be haunted.”

A soft, hungry sound escapes my lips, and Colin scoots closer with a grin, “I could take your picture in front of it. It would be fucking sweet as hell for the Funhouse series page on your website…”

“I don’t care about that. I just want to feel its energy up close and see if it feels spooky.”

“I know this about you, but you can do both things.” He brushes my bangs to one side, making me even more aware of how close he is and how lovely he smells, like soap and birthday candle smoke, while I’m sure I smell like something a drunk raccoon puked up on