His entire body tensed. “No fucking way. No cuffs.”

“Then we’ll save these to use on me.” She turned, rooting around in the bag again, and spun around with a whip in one hand and a feather tickler in the other, the sexiest temptress he’d ever seen. “I’ll just…” She flicked her wrist, and the whip snapped. She yelped, dropping it like she’d been burned. “That’s out. Nope. No way. Too scary.”

He laughed.

“We’ll stick with this.” She looked at the tickler with the cutest curious expression. “It looks like a feather duster.” She stuck her ass out, waving the tickler, sexy and playful. “Maybe we should save it for the French maid costume.”

“Fuck the toys. I just want you,” he growled, hauling her into his arms and crushing his mouth to hers.

Chapter Eight

IF MADIGAN SNUGGLED any closer to Tobias, making those sweet little noises in her sleep, he was going to lose his mind. He liked this too damn much. All of it. Fucking her senseless, holding her as they drifted off to sleep, naked and sated, and waking before dawn to the feel of her trying to burrow beneath his skin. He hadn’t slept through the night in three years, and he wasn’t sure he’d ever slept as hard as he had last night.

What was it about last night?

He’d thought, or had convinced himself, he’d just wanted more sex with Madigan, but now he realized he’d been wrong. Holding her like this struck a chord he hadn’t wanted, much less known was missing. As dawn rolled in, he was consumed by an inescapable desire for more of her. More of her sexy mischief, sweet giggles, and alluring glimpses into a life he could never be part of.

He’d fucked up last night.

Every time they’d been together, he’d ended the night telling her—reminding himself—that it’d been fun, but it wouldn’t happen again. But last night he couldn’t even force himself to step up and say it.

This was it. The end. No more dicking around.

He had to distance himself before he got in any deeper.

Before he broke the heart of a woman who deserved nothing but beautiful things and amazing sex. A woman who deserved exactly what she said she didn’t want. Love, a ring on her finger, and a promise of forever.

She stirred in his arms, stretching like a cat, her supple ass grinding against his erection. Another sleepy, sensual, addicting noise slipped from her lips. That just might be the second-best sound he’d ever heard. The first being when she cried out his name in the throes of passion.

He ran his hand down her hip and kissed her neck.

She stilled and abruptly flipped over. “Shit. I slept over? I’m sorry. We’re not supposed to—”

She pushed to her feet, and he grabbed her wrist, shocking himself. He should let her go, let it end. But he wasn’t ready. He needed more. Just one more hour, one more fuck, a thousand more insane kisses.