Chapter 1

An annoying buzz wakes me up from a deep, peaceful sleep. I appear to have fallen asleep at my desk. Again. For the millionth time. A groan escapes me as I roughly rub at my stupidly numb cheek. How am I twenty-eight but still fall asleep within moments of sitting down at my desk? The soft blue light of a computer screen might as well be a damn night-light for me.

The annoying buzzing gets angrier. I blink the lingering, hazy sleep from my eyes. Somehow my phone is always at the scene of the crime. My phone screen flashes in the darkness of my office and I let out a loud sigh at the sight of Trevor's name. He's a fellow boyfriend and also one of my best friends, so this call could go either way. Is it work related or is he coming out of a late evening showing of a movie and needs me to chaperone him on his walk home?

"Trevor."

"Eli," Trevor whispers, an edge of urgency in his sweet voice. "I need a huge favor."

Trevor sounds breathless, voice a little shakier than I'm used to hearing it. He might be the youngest of us all, but he's notoriously made of steel. Nothing shakes Trevor. Never a client and not much else.

"What's up?"

Trevor lets out a loud, tired breath. "I need you to take a job for me."

My frown deepens because this never happens. We take the jobs we're assigned because the agency carefully pairs us up with boyfriends. If Trevor is handing someone off to me, then he either knows them in a good way … or a bad way. I want to pry, but knowing Trevor, I won't like the answer I get anyway.

"I just forwarded you an email the service got earlier today. Claire initially thought of me, but she's wrong. There is literally no one else on the team besides you that could take this job."

Claire is the hard-ass owner of The Boyfriend Experience, the agency that I—in very loose terms—freelance for once in a while. The job pays enough that I can focus on completing my PhD program eighty percent of the time and there's no other job like that on earth. Plus, it helps that I'm pretty good at being a boyfriend. A fake one at least. I like sex too, so it's a win-win for me most of the time.

I open the email on my phone and lean back in my desk chair to read it with Trevor on speaker.

Name:Colby Smith

Age: 39 years old

Kinks: I prefer to be dominant in all scenarios. Also, spanking and primal play if the boyfriend is amenable to it.

Sex included in boyfriend experience: Yes

Length of time: First week of July

Lodging: Wherever the boyfriend wants

Comments: See below

Dear The Boyfriend Experience,

I am hoping you can help me. My cousin Beau recommended you to me after he used your services last year. He had nothing but nice things to say, which is a rarity for my cousin. I am writing in for a very particular request. I was wondering if you offer the husband experience? I am looking for someone to let me love them, and love me back, and I want all the romance in the world. All expenses for the husband will of course be paid as I'd like this to be a real vacation. We can go anywhere in the world the husband wants as long as he's willing to love me the entire week. Money is no issue.

Thanks,

Colby

The painin the email is so evident, so raw. To ask to be loved by a stranger for an entire week is an extraordinary act of courage.

Maybe I am the guy for the job, because nothing sounds better to me. An entire week-long paid vacation just to play husband, to give someone love and care? Sounds perfect. If the dates don't interfere with my schedule, then it's definitely something I can do. Something I want to do.

"Were any other details provided?" I ask softly.

Trevor hums thoughtfully into the phone. "The first week of July."

I pull up my schedule on my phone. Summer is great for me because I don't usually teach a class. Instead, I focus on my research.

"The first week of July works. Pay?"

"Money is no issue said the man …" Trevor trails off with a low, bitter chuckle. "Name your price, hubby."

That does get my attention, but there's another key factor at play. "Limits?"

"Just the standards," Trevor says, a little more awkwardly than he normally would. "This guy really does sound right up your alley. You're the best of all of us."

I restlessly tap my fingers against the desk in deep contemplation. A week of nonstop acting like a husband, twenty-four seven. I'm not even sure I know how to quantify that really. The most I've ever been paid was ten thousand dollars for playing boyfriend to a closeted rockstar for an evening of debauchery.

"Thirty thousand dollars for the week?" I ask, hoping for confirmation from Trevor.

"Great!" Trevor says with a clear smile in his voice. That's the Trevor I know. "I will let Claire know she'll need to tell Colby that you'll cost him fifty thousand dollars for the entire week."

"Wait—"

"Bye!" Trevor yells before I can argue with him.

I pull my phone away from my face and frown anxiously down at it. Fifty thousand dollars feels a little like highway robbery to me. Trevor is probably already telling Claire to email the poor guy back with the price. Colby will surely reply that the company is out of our mind.

Feeling helpless, I go about my evening. A bowl of cereal for dinner. A shower hot enough to melt off my skin. A perfect evening. Until I have to deal with my hair. My curls never want to cooperate with me. I spend a few minutes trying to tame my pesky curls, before giving up and going about my nightly skincare routine.

Just as I'm finishing brushing my teeth, my phone lights up on the bathroom counter. I lean against the counter to anxiously peer down at my screen. The message preview reads APPROVED - THE HUSBAND EXPERIENCE and I feel a little tingle of nerves in the pit of my belly. Fifty thousand dollars for one week of playing husband wherever I choose. Doesn't seem that hard to me.

I think for a moment about all the places we could go. I could choose anything. A week on the Italian coast, an island in Greece, the rainforest in South America … but what if my future husband doesn't like any of those places? If I'm going to play doting husband for the week, I figure maybe I should start a little early.

My toothbrush dangles out of the corner of my mouth as I type out a quick email. I set my phone down with a delighted smirk. This guy will be melting in my hands before we even meet up. Every cent of that fifty thousand dollars will be earned.

I almost forgetabout the upcoming husband experience since the only reminder I have is the notation in my calendar. The reminder comes in abruptly at the end of June when Claire forwards me an email with the location of choice. Colby's chosen a gorgeous beach house for the week.

But Florida? My eyes basically roll back into my brain. Of all the places in the world, I'm going to have to spend a week playing husband in the armpit of America. Great. Superb. Excellent.

The address is for a very expensive beach home, per my googling. It's not a rental, which surprises me. Further googling shows that the house was bought years ago for a cool couple million dollars. Not too shabby.

On the bright side, I don't have to catch a long flight to get where I'm going, considering I live in Georgia. I'll just make the five-hour drive down, listen to some beachy country songs, and then I'll also have my car in case I need to make a fast escape.

I pack a wide array of outfits from beachy to dressy to slutty in hopes that I pack something that makes my fake husband happy. I'm well used to dressing for my boyfriends.

The drive passes by quickly as I blare a random playlist of beach music through my car's Bluetooth. I roll the windows down as I approach the water, unable to hold myself back from feeling the glorious ocean breeze on my face.

My GPS directs me to come to a stop in front of a three-story light blue beach house. Everything about the place screams beach, from the color of the house, to the white rocking chairs on the balconies, and the wide-open windows that show me a view of the breathtaking ocean beyond. For just a moment, I stand there taking in the scent, letting the salty air wash over me like a balm.

After grabbing my suitcase out of the car, I take the weathered stairs up to the entrance of the house. I consider knocking for a brief moment, but that doesn't seem like something a husband would do. Wouldn't a husband just walk right into his own vacation home? So I take a deep, steadying breath and push through the heavy front door.

The house is eerily quiet. If I hadn't seen the car out front, I would assume that the house is empty.

I drop my suitcase by the front entrance and start to explore the large house. Everything inside is white but there are light and dark blue accents throughout. The house radiates calm. The inside smells just like the outside, like the ocean and warm salt air. The sound of the waves breaking against the shore echoes through the house. I run my fingers through my unruly hair, hoping it's still as presentable as it was when I styled it earlier in the morning.

Movement from the balcony at the back of the house gets my attention. A man slowly stands from where he'd been leaning against the railing. All I can see is broad shoulders, a strong back, and sandy-blond hair. Even without seeing his face, he's not what I thought he was going to be.

As if Colby senses my gaze on him, he slowly turns around. Our eyes lock through the large window facing the ocean. An odd shiver rolls its way through my body. I swallow loudly and my fingers twitch aimlessly at my side.

Colby is breathtakingly gorgeous. Bigger than me by a few inches and also quite a bit broader. One or two days' worth of stubble dots his square jaw. I've been paid by a lot of people to have sex with them and usually I get by with faking attraction, just worrying about making the experience good for them.

I won't have to do any faking with Colby.

He aims one last look at the ocean over his shoulder, then opens the sliding glass door to come inside.

"Elijah?" Colby asks with a crooked smile.

Oh no. He's got a deep voice and a southern accent. My two greatest weaknesses. He might as well be my kryptonite.

"Yes."

Colby smiles softly. His entire face warms with his grin, even the crow's feet at the corners of his eyes are endearing. He radiates kindness, something I rarely get in these experiences.

Colby clears his throat awkwardly. "Hello, husband."

I swallow again, feeling all sorts of unmoored. "Eli."

"Eli?" Colby asks with a little furrow between his eyebrows. God, even that is cute. Holy hell.

"Yes," I say after clearing my throat. "My husband should call me Eli."

A wicked smile crosses Colby's face as he steps just a little closer. Oh God. He smells amazing too, like expensive, musky cologne and something earthy. Like the smell in the air before a storm. A large hand comes up to caress my face, his thumb tilts my head up so that our gazes meet.

"Alright, husband." His dark blue eyes shift between mine, looking straight into me. "It's nice to meet you, Eli. Are you ready to be mine for a week?"

I nod because suddenly my mouth is too dry for me to even attempt forming words. My mouth is basically the Sahara. Colby just smiles as if he knows exactly how hard my brain is short-circuiting at the very sight of him. He dips down to press a gentle kiss to the hinge of my jaw, then slowly pulls away. Tangling our fingers together, he tugs me towards the kitchen.

"Want something to drink?" Colby asks, grabbing a cold bottle of water from the fridge. The man doesn't even wait for me to answer. Instead, he just hands me the bottle after opening it for me.

The cold water does a good job waking my brain back up after I quickly gulp half of it down. I don't usually get so tongue-tied around people. Talking isn't an issue for me, I never feel off-center, and I always know what to say … but looking at Colby has me all sorts of messed up. I don't know how else to explain it. His presence is a lightning strike to my nervous system.

Colby takes my hand back in his and starts to show me the house. He's got great arms. Great everything really. His hair is the perfect shade of ashy blond, the kind I always wished for as a young kid, because I got stuck with my biological father's dark hair, skin tone, and everything else.

I also notice he's barefoot. Something about that sets me more at ease, even though I can't explain why. Colby's muscles move under his shirt as he tugs me along behind him. I want to climb him.

"This is our bedroom," Colby tells me with a gesture of his arm. I try very hard to not get caught up in the sight of his tanned, thick forearms. They're work hardened, and I like that. More than I should.

The bedroom faces the back of the house, towards the ocean. There's floor-to-ceiling windows so that the view of the water is unimpeded. A king-size bed faces the gulf, sitting against the opposite wall. I bet getting fucked here is going to be amazing.

I send a smirk Colby's way. "So many memories in this room."

Colby's face shutters for a moment before that pleasant smile returns. "Yes and more to come. Now the bathroom is to the left. There's a staircase from the balcony that'll take you right down to the beach. It's a private beach, so it's only ours."

"I've never been fucked by the beach before," I murmur softly, mostly to myself.

"We'll remedy that," Colby says quickly, without a trace of humor.

A shiver rolls down my spine again. Colby disappears back downstairs while I check out the bathroom. Much like the rest of the house, it's all white tiles and blue accents with a large walk-in shower built to accommodate four people at a time. I can't wait to try it out. A large clawfoot bathtub sits in front of the window facing the waves. Everything about this place screams romance and relaxation.

Colby returns a moment later with my suitcase in tow.

"Want to see the ocean?"

"Sure …" I trail off as I look at him. "Should I be ready? I'm not sure if you've done this before but it's no different than fucking a boyfriend. You'll have to let me know so I can prepare."

A look of confusion washes over Colby's face. "I'll prep you. Do you normally prep yourself?"

I let out a contrite laugh. "If I don't prepare myself, then half the time it wouldn't be remotely enjoyable for me. It's fine, I can do it."

"No," Colby says firmly with a frown. His chest even puffs out a little bit. "I'll prepare you while you're with me. You can do everything leading up to it in the privacy of the bathroom if that's also what you're asking."

"Alright," I agree, not quite sure what else to say.

Colby nods once, pleased. "Now let"s go look at the ocean. I'll cook dinner later and we can eat it on the porch as we get to know one another better."

I follow Colby down the stairs from the balcony of the bedroom. The warm summer breeze blows across my face, making me smile. Both sides of the beach are empty with dunes rising and falling, giving the appearance of us being alone. I take my shoes off at the bottom of the stairs, leaving them there before walking out towards the waves. Another smile crosses my face when the warm water brushes against my toes.

Colby comes up beside me, his presence heavy and warm. In the most lovely sort of way. He shoots me another gentle smile that awakens millions of butterflies in my belly. Tucking his hands in the pockets of his jeans, he stares thoughtfully out at the horizon.

I'm meant to play husband with this man for a week but he's still a total enigma. Usually, I get a brief about the person I'll be playing boyfriend to but I received nothing about Colby Smith. All I know is that he's paying a hefty amount for one no-holds-barred week with me and that he has an affinity for primal play, per his application.

I shiver again at the very idea.

"Cold?" Colby asks, voice concerned.

"No," I reply, making sure my voice is as husky as possible.

"Ah," Colby says with a knowing smile. "You like your job?"

I look away from him and back at the ocean. The man probably thinks all I am is a sex worker, that it's my full-time job. I'll let him think that. I never want the men I serve to know much about the real me because I don't want to shatter their illusion.

Most men want to have me for a brief time, they like the feeling that they're using me, that I'm something they can buy just for their pleasure. Shattering that illusion will only make the money they spend on me not feel put to good use. I know my value to them all, even Colby despite his shy smiles.

"Love it. It affords me a lot of freedom and I get to travel. I get to spend a week by the ocean with a lovely man who's going to fuck me silly."

Colby grunts, eyes scanning my body, and rocks back on his heels in a cute, shy sort of way. "They told me you're the sweetest boyfriend on the roster."

I snort inelegantly. "What that means is that I never get a bad review because I know how to make a customer happy."

"I'm your husband this week, not a customer," Colby says firmly, jaw tight. "I want to make you happy this week too."

I roll my eyes internally. "Of course, honey."

"No pet names."

"Got it," I say succinctly.

Colby pulls his hands out of his pockets and shakes his arms, like someone preparing to dive off a cliff. "I'm going to kiss you."

Oh wow, he's got to psych himself up for it. Great. I aim a reassuring smile at him as he turns towards me. I let him manhandle me into the circle of his arms. His chest is firm and broad against my own, sending a rush of warmth through me. There's just something about a man who's bigger and stronger than me that I love.

A hand tangles in the hair at the nape of my neck before he dips down to kiss me. I close my eyes against the onslaught of his lips on top of my own. He tastes like coffee and something that's probably just Colby. The kiss is lovely, one of the nicer ones I've experienced. But Colby is holding back. I can feel it in the tension of his shoulders, the absence of passion in his kiss.

Maybe he's nervous. I'm not sure.

I slide my hands up his arms to settle around his neck. Licking into his mouth, I tilt my head to deepen the kiss. The tension eases out of Colby's shoulders until he's kissing me with no restraint, like we've kissed a hundred times before. Now that's why I'm the favorite boyfriend. I love getting people to let go and relax enough to forget that they're paying for me.

Colby's fingers tighten painfully in my hair. He bites at my bottom lip, forcing me to let out an absolutely indecent moan. My brain shuts off for one glorious moment, then reboots quickly back online when Colby abruptly pulls away. I ache to chase after him, to kiss him again.

"That's a husband kiss for sure," Colby says, out of breath, eyes glazed over.

"Of course it is, we're husbands." I do my best to keep my voice even so he can't tell just how out of control his kiss made me. Calm. I'm totally calm.

He smiles softly at me. A little, unsure sort of smile but it's beautiful all the same. I rub my fingers through his stubble and tenderly brush my thumb under his eye. His eyes slowly close and his face tilts into my hand like it's the first time he's felt touch in years. Maybe it has been. Something about Colby tells me he's touch starved. Those are my favorite types of clients.

We walk hand in hand back up to the house. He grips my hand tight, and I let him. Once inside the house, we go our separate ways. Unpacking my suitcase is my first line of business. My shirts line up beside his in the closet. There's more of his clothes in there than I imagined for a week, but it's his home, so maybe he leaves clothes here. I'm careful to respect his space in the bedroom, only putting my essentials out in the bathroom.

My presence is clear but it's not overwhelming.

A little while later I find him in the kitchen preparing for dinner. His dark blue eyes flit up to me for a moment, before his gaze returns back to what he's doing at the kitchen island. An array of vegetables dot the countertop along with chicken breast marinating in a glass pan. Some sort of spiced rice bubbles on the gas stovetop behind Colby.

"Wow," I say in awe.

He winks good-naturedly at me. "Thank you. I love to cook."

I take a seat at the kitchen island. "Obviously, and it smells amazing. I can't wait to try it."

He slides some raw vegetables in a bowl across the counter to me. "If you're hungry."

I wink back at him and take a few pieces of chopped pepper to nibble on as he finishes preparing our dinner for the grill. Turning my gaze towards the ocean, I notice that the sun is dipping down to kiss the horizon. Nothing tops a sunset at the beach. The sky is turning a deep orange and the color invades the kitchen, warming the house even more.

Colby quietly heads out to the balcony to grill our dinner. I can't help but follow him, some unknown thing telling me to stay close. I lean against the railing as he gets started at the grill.

"God, that view is gorgeous," I whisper, mostly to myself.

"It is."

I glance over my shoulder at Colby to find him looking at me, not the sunset, and I flush under his weighty gaze. The sweet talking is appreciated although wholly unnecessary. I decide to not remind him I'm a sure thing. The smell of the dinner mixes with the smell of the ocean breeze creating an even more relaxing atmosphere. All my troubles just melt away.

"Dinner's ready," Colby calls out.

I turn from the railing and make my way over to take a seat at the table. A platter of grilled chicken, grilled vegetables, and some kind of dirty rice sits at the center of the table. My mouth instantly waters. I'm not much of a cook myself and neither was my mother. I've spent the last ten years living off of takeout, delivery, and pre-made meals from the organic grocery store down the street from my apartment.

I take one bite of the chicken and moan out loud.

Colby chuckles as he cuts his chicken. "Good?"

"So good," I say around a mouthful of food. I don't even care that I look ridiculous. I eat the food like it's my last meal on earth. It's that good. The right amount of spice and sweetness and the chicken is so tender that I almost cry. "Are you a cook?"

Colby shakes his head with a smile. "No, I just enjoy cooking. I'm an architect."

I eye him across the table. "That's always seemed like such a cool job to me."

"It is most of the time. A lot of responsibility too, though. If I design something badly, then people can be hurt. I have to carry a lot of liability insurance."

"You work for a design firm?"

Colby smirks at me over the table. "I own my own firm."

"Nice. You sound well off. Good for you."

"This week we're well off, remember."

I suppress the urge to roll my eyes and just smile sweetly at him. "Of course, husband."

Colby cocks his head at me as he slowly chews on a piece of chicken. "I'm paying for your company and your time but I don't want you to be fake with me for seven days. I'm sure you're used to putting on a show, putting on an act, but that's not what I'm paying for."

I lean back in my chair, now done with my dinner. "You could've gotten someone from a hookup app to play pretend with you for a week on a vacation. People buy me when they want something in particular. I'm giving you what you paid for."

"Yeah?" Colby asks, voice low, a little mean. "What did I pay for, Eli?"

"You paid for a husband who'll do whatever you want and one who'll keep you happy for six days of fucking by the beach. And that's what I'm going to give you. Take it or leave it."

Colby skewers me with a look so intense that I can't help but squirm a little in my seat. He continues to eat as I stew a little. Patience radiates off of him as if he's waiting me out, thinking I'll give in and admit something. I have no idea what that something is though.

I sit with my arms crossed over my chest, watching anxiously as he finishes his dinner. He stands with his plate in hand, grabs my plate, then goes inside to clean up. Figuring he left me alone to sulk, I stare up at the now pink and purple sky.

Fuck. What's wrong with me? I never talk to clients like that. I never do anything that might get me sent packing. Jesus, he's probably going to email Claire and ask for a different husband for the week. Well, I know it won't be Trevor because something about Colby sent him running. I also don't see Trevor consenting to being chased through the dunes and fucked into the sand like I will. I let out a ragged breath, then jump when I realize Colby is back outside with me.

He sets down a chilled glass of wine on the table in front of me. "Drink this and relax. I'm not fucking you tonight."

"Why not?" I ask petulantly.

"Because you're on edge for some reason and I want you to want it the first time I fuck you."

"I want it now. You're literally paying me to want this, Colby."

"Stop," Colby demands, voice low and firm. My mouth instantly slams shut. "I'm not playin' head games with you, Eli. Yes, I've paid for your company. Yes, I've paid to fuck you. But I don't want an act because then I won't enjoy it. I want you to be yourself. We will settle in together and then I'll fuck you tomorrow. I'll take you out to dinner tomorrow too like a good husband would after he fucks his husband's brains out. Got it?"

I'm struck speechless, so I just nod. A tendril of shame forms in the pit of my stomach, but I wash it away with a large gulp of the moscato Colby kindly gave me. I watch through the windows as he cleans up after dinner. The wine does relax me, and for some reason I cannot explain, it pisses me off that he knew that's what I needed. Because this man should not know me. This man does not know me.

After the kitchen is clean and the sun has fully set, the long drive earlier in the morning starts to wear on me. I'm so tired. Colby drags me to the bedroom, shocking me, because I'd assumed maybe I'd be sleeping in another bedroom.

He stands me at the end of the bed and proceeds to undress me. I open my mouth to argue with him but one look from him has me snapping my mouth back shut. Tenderly, without any heat, he undresses me and puts one of his larger T-shirts over my head for me to sleep in. I'm so momentarily thrown by it all that I sway on my feet a little. Colby notices and ushers me into the bed, pulling the blankets up over me.

I lie there frozen, watching enraptured as he goes about his own night routine. He returns from the bathroom in only a pair of tight boxer briefs. My heart practically skyrockets through my chest at just the sight of him. He's so fucking hot. He's big and broad and there's a perfect amount of dark blond hair scattered across his chest, down his thighs, and on his legs. He's in incredible shape for a man his age.

Colby climbs into the bed beside me, turns onto his side, and proceeds to manhandle me into his arms. I like it though. Oddly. The soft sound of the waves echoes through the bedroom as Colby molds his body around mine. He's warm and firm against the line of my back. Against my better judgment, I fall asleep held in the circle of his arms.