“That’s quite a list.”

“I thought I’d lay it all out for you. Give you the details you say you’re so fond of.”

I brush my lips over hers, unhurried despite the way her legs tighten around my waist. I keep my hands in mostly PG areas. Rian juts her chest out, trying to press it against mine. I mash my erection against the warm steel of the dryer. It prevents Rian from getting her hands on it, and Lord knows she keeps trying.

“Will you stop torturing me and touch me already!” She groans as I kiss her neck.

“I am touching you.” I run my hands up her calves and slip my fingers behind her knees, kneading there while I kiss a path along her collarbone.

“Nowhere good,” she mutters.

“You don’t think so?” I twist her palm up and press my lips to her wrist. “You don’t like this?” I brush softly along the path of veins in her forearm until I reach the crook of her arm, then I bite gently. “Or this?”

“Seriously, what the heck did you do? Take a course in erogenous zone stimulation? I have some pretty big ones that need attention, namely the two you couldn’t stop staring at the first time I met you and one between my legs.” The hand on my shoulder moves down my chest again. I catch it before she can get to my boxers.

I nab her other wrist and pin them behind her back with one hand—not hard, just firmly, so I can cup her chin in my other hand.

“What’re you doing?” She’s snappy, eyes glazed with confusion.

“Will you stop fighting me for one goddamn second and enjoy the fact that my main priority isn’t to stick my dick in you so I can get off?”

Some of the fight dies. “You don’t want to stick your dick in me?”

“Of course I do. It’s not my number one priority … yet.”

“Yet? So it is a priority, you’re just getting off on torturing me first?”

“I’m getting off on how worked up you are. That’s not the same thing.” I drag a single finger from her chin down her throat, between her breasts, and over her stomach, stopping when I reach black satin. I’m pretty sure she growls.

I still have her arms pinned behind her back. I drop my head at the same time as I move my other hand to her upper thigh, pressing my thumb into the junction, where the seam of her panties meets her skin. Running my nose along the edge of her bra, I ease my thumb inside her panties.

Rian sucks in a needy breath and her toes curl against my thighs.

I skim close to her clit, not making contact.

“Just touch me!”

I meet her vicious, angry gaze. “How long do you think it’ll take for me to make you come with you this worked up?”

She arches an angry, horny eyebrow. “Who says you’ll even be able to?”

CHAPTER 10

THE ORGASMATOR

RIAN

Ever say something to someone and realize you’ve set yourself up to be bested? I’m pretty sure that’s exactly what I’ve done based on the downright evil glint in Pierce’s gloriously sultry eyes. Also, his smile is both the sexiest and scariest thing I think I’ve ever seen.

I have no idea how I managed to get myself into this situation. My hands are currently pinned behind my back while a dryer rumbles under my butt. My mostly bare butt, thanks to my thong. I mean, what in the ever-loving frack am I doing? I don’t have sex with someone I’ve only been out to dinner with once, and not even on an actual planned date.

But here I am. And here he is, looking damn well amazing in only boxers, so I guess I’m going to go with it.

I should’ve known better than to trust someone this hot, with that evil Prince Charming smile. I have a feeling this man is going to take me on a ride I’m never going to forget.

His thumb rubs back and forth along the edge of my panties. It’s simultaneously too much and not enough. My entire body is ready to explode and he’s skirting the detonator. I need him to press my button and put me out of my misery.

And then his thumb slips out from under the fabric. So of course, I struggle against his hold on my wrists, which are still pinned behind my back. Why am I letting this man get away with this? Why is this so hot?

“Stop fighting.” His mouth hovers over mine, tongue flicking out to touch my top lip before he sucks the bottom one between his teeth. At the same time, he grazes my lust button—but he does it over my stupid panties.

It doesn’t seem to matter that there’s a layer of wet satin dampening the contact. I jolt at the sensation. I also groan. Loudly.

“Does that feel good?”

“No. It felt awful. There’s too much fucking fabric in the way.” Here’s the thing about me: I don’t usually swear much. I’m pretty polite in the general sense of the word, but apparently when orgasms are withheld from me, I get a little bitchy. And sarcastic.

Pierce has the audacity to laugh. And then he goes and does it again. This time when I moan, it’s his name, and it comes out sounding somewhere between an angry growl and a whiny sob. It’s embarrassing—at least until he pushes my panties to the side and makes direct thumb-to-clit contact.

Pierce finally releases my wrists. I’m about to grab hold of his shoulders for balance, but the welcome pressure between my thighs disappears.

“Lift your ass,” Pierce orders. Really, it’s the kind of firm, authoritative demand I expect from an officer of the law. So, of course I comply. I’m a law-abiding girl, after all. Unlike my hit-and-run sister.

My panties are yanked down my legs. He drags me to the edge of the dryer, slides his palms up my inner thighs, and drops to his knees.

“I have ocean vagina.” Any further protest dies when Pierce suctions himself to said vagina and he starts to swirl his tongue. And then it’s all I can do to hold onto his shoulders and enjoy every second of the ride. And ride I do.

I basically use his tongue as my personal massager until I come, and then come again. The second time I have to bite the palm of my hand to stop from screaming his name. I’m still breathing like I’ve been playing chicken with a freight train when he pushes back up to a stand.

“Please tell me you’re going to sex me now.” I’m grateful that it sounds more like a demand than a plea.

“Only because you’re so polite.” Pierce grabs his wallet from the top of the washing machine and retrieves a condom.

I make myself useful by removing my bra, then push his boxers over his hips. His erection springs free. It’s pretty damn big. Not scary-porno big, but it’s definitely in proportion with the rest of him, and it’s so … veiny. I have a feeling the aerodynamic qualities are going to be a serious advantage in the orgasm territory.

He flicks the condom to me and I fumble to catch it. “Wrap me up, baby.”

With his eyes on mine, he slides a finger inside me, pumping a couple of times before he adds a second one. It’s smart. He’s big. A little warm-up down there is well-advised. It makes it difficult to focus, but I position the condom at the tip and grip the shaft. I smile when he groans as I roll it over the head and down the shaft.

I’m superready for some hot sex and whatever dirtiness he wants to throw my way. He doesn’t shove his way in there, though. Instead, he runs the head up and down, around and around, teasing. After a dozen infuriatingly slow passes, the head disappears inside.

I put my hand on his chest to prevent him from going any farther. “Go slow,” I tell him. “I want to watch this happen.”