I need a fiancee. She needs a f*ck. I only know Celia from the bar I work at, but I already know she isnt the type to do one night stands. And she definitely isnt the type to do one night stands with a tattooed bad boy bartender like me. But she must have really been craving something, because here I am in her bed, making her scream my name as her hips buck and her toes curl. And then my brother calls. Wants to know if Im coming to his wedding. We dont talk much, and I didnt even know he was engaged, and I feel stupid so I tell him yeah, Im coming, and Im bringing my own fiancee. The fiancee I dont have. Celias the only one who knows about my lie, so I make her a deal one week of incredible mind-blowing s*x if shell come to the wedding and pretend to be my betrothed. It should be easy. Fake it for a week and then break up once were back home. But Celias gorgeous smile and sinful curves are making this anything but easy in fact, theyre making it downright hard. And you know what they say: lies are like org*sms sometimes its hard to stop at just one.