HEROINE: Chelsea Hall. A roller derby queen and soap maker. A traumatic past has her shying away from any nonplatonic relationships.  When her room mate gets a job offer in another state, Chelsea needs to find a new place to live quick.

HERO: Sabastian Cabral. A billionaire trust fund baby whose family is pushing him towards his ex girlfriend and marriage. He needs a new girlfriend to fend them off.

The door was cracked, but she could see his back. She peeked inside, curious. His pants were loose at his waist and she saw his hand moving in front of him. He groaned and threw his head back, and she gasped. He was masturbating.

“Sebastian?” She pushed the door open and stared at him, a myriad of emotions racing through her. Shocked, yes. Titillated? Maybe a little. Betrayed? Absolutely.

Because for the last week, he’d been getting up occasionally to head to the “bathroom” during sleep or during movies. Actually, he got up and “took a moment” a lot, which made her wonder if he was constantly masturbating.
And that hurt, because weren’t they supposed to have a platonic relationship? It was just more shit they were hiding from each other.

And she was suddenly really tired of it.

He turned, and sure enough, his hand was on his cock as it jutted out of his pants. A really big, thick cock with a perfectly shaped purple head. Not that she was noticing these things. He continued to stroke it, as if unable to help himself. “This isn’t what it looks like.”

“It looks like you’re jerking off to The Notebook,” she commented, unsure if this was funny or hurtful. Right now she was going for funny.

“God no,” he said. “I just . . . need a moment. Can you close the door?”

“No!”

“What, are you going to watch?” He continued to stroke himself.

“What?” Her jaw dropped. “You . . . you want me to watch?”

Sebastian’s mouth flattened. “Well, I could pretend that I’m turned on by that stupid-ass movie, but my cock will deflate at the thought. I just . . . needed a moment to myself.”

Her heart fluttered. “Because of . . . me?”

He gave her an exasperated look. “Seriously? You have to ask? Shut the door already. Let a man finish in silence.”

“But—”

“Damn it, Chelsea, let’s not do this, all right?” He released his cock and hitched his pants up, heading for the door. “Either get the fuck out or—” He stopped himself.

She squeaked and shut the door quickly, then raced down the stairs. Her heart was hammering.
Get the fuck out or . . .

Or what? Or help? But . . . they were supposed to be just friends, weren’t they?

She returned to the sofa, her stomach churning. His sketch pad was still in her hand, and for some reason the drawings weren’t important at the moment. She tossed it back aside and curled up on her end of the couch, her thoughts a tangled mess.

She was an idiot, wasn’t she? All this time she was cuddling up to a handsome, sexy guy and assumed he didn’t want sex, either. Of course he wanted sex. He just didn’t want the issues that came with a relationship.

Which meant that he didn’t want her, because why else marry her?

I laughed almost this entire book.  Jessica Clare writes a sweet, sexy, funny, and emotionally heart pinching marriage of convenience romance that becomes so much more.

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