I can feel his eyes burning into me through the camera lens. My body has been tingling for the past half an hour as he’s taken the shots. I’m not sure how no one else in this room can feel the tension.

I can. It’s zinging between us, coated in a sweet layer of lust.

“And we’re done,” Tyler says, lowering his camera. He turns away, and I take the robe offered to me by a wardrobe assistant. I’m tying the belt around my waist when he says, “Would you like to take a look?”

“I’d love to,” I respond, polite and professional. I join him at his laptop and take the seat in front of him.

He puts one hand on the back of the chair and one on a wireless mouse. He leans forward, and his breath flutters my hair, his thumb gently stroking my back. No one can see—they’re all too busy. This is a stolen private moment in an open, professional setting.

“Here we are.” He double-clicks a folder and a stream of images appears on the screen. “These are really great,” he says aloud. He bends down a little farther and whispers, “My cock is fucking hard right now. I hope you appreciate the torture I’m about to endure.”

I chew my lip so I don’t smile. “I really like this one.” I point to one where I’m sitting on the floor, leaning back on my hand. My head is tipped back, my eyes closed, my other hand in my hair.

He groans quietly. “Liv, you’re killing me, babe.”

“This one is good, too.” I’m standing, looking over my shoulder at the camera.

“Don’t drive to work tonight,” he whispers, leaning forward even more. His lips brush my jaw. “I’ll get you after.”

“Thank you for letting me see these. They’re great.” I stand, knowing that my indifference is pissing him off. Truth is, I’m not indifferent. I’m aching for him.

“It was my pleasure.” He takes my hand and leans in to kiss my cheek. “And my pain,” he murmurs. “Wear black.”

I smile to myself as I leave the studio. In the dressing room, I change into jeans and a chunky sweater and wrap a scarf around my neck. My phone buzzes and I dig it from my purse.

 

Tell me you pissed him off. Please,

 

Dayton texts.

 

He’s not going to enjoy the next few hours, I know that much,

 

I send back.

 

That’s my girl. I’m joining him for “experience” in an hour. Tried getting there for yours but he said no. Douchenugget.

 

I laugh loudly and climb into my car. Before I start her up, I email Sheila and tell her that I think it went okay. The pictures really did look good—but then again, I’m up against a few known names.

No one knows me. I’m still just Liv from Seattle, trying to get a late break.

I head toward the gym to work off the takeout from last night before work. Of course, if I put any weight on, I can blame Tyler because it was his idea to eat calorie-and-carb-laden food and veg around on the sofa for two hours. I’m fairly certain any calories were burned after those two hours when his hands started wandering, but I’ll still blame him because I can.

And because it’s easier to blame him than myself. Easier to blame him for calories than to blame myself for wiping out a line.

But it was nice. More than nice, actually. Spending the evening with him, mostly chilling out, reminded me how great it is to do that. How much nicer it is for someone to stay after sex instead of walking straight out.

I get out of the car, figuring that I have half an hour on the treadmill before I have to leave for work. I change quickly and hit the second floor, grabbing a machine. I start up my iPod and put the earbuds in my ears. Waves by Mr. Probz blasts into my ears, and I’m drawn to the lyrics. Because I am drifting away. Slowly, but I’m drifting. Every line, every word, is so right.

My mind focuses back on last night as I increase the incline on the treadmill. I wish I could define whatever it is between us. It’s not quite no-strings and not quite dating. It’s an odd concept, hanging suspended in limbo. I wish I could put my finger on it. I wish I could figure out what makes a few strings with Tyler okay despite the obvious risks.

A sex addict and a love addict together is a preposterous idea. It’s pure stupidity. Idiocy. Fucked up.

It can only end in one way—and I’m not talking about an orgasm. Heartbreak.

I told Tyler that I’m trusting him. If only I knew what I was trusting him with. My heart? My body? My desires?

I know the last two are definitely true. I trust him with my body and my desires. I trust him to not abuse them, but instead to take them and spin them into pleasure. And he is sure as hell doing that.

In the several times we’ve been together now, we’ve only stretched the boundaries once. Both of us, I know, have more things we want to try. Both of us have ideas and dreams and wishes for what we can do…together.

Just like he said, we’re perfect together in the bedroom. We’re magic, completely in tune.

The music in my ears switches to my alarm and I slow my speed until I stop. I have no time to shower, so back in the dressing room, I douse myself in spray and dig my work clothes out from my bag. Black skinny jeans and a long-sleeved shirt—with a low neckline.

I squirm into the clothes and drive toward the bar. I glance through the back window, and it’s completely dead. I’m supposed to finish at nine tonight, and my body tingles just thinking about it.

I join Rosie at the bar. She’s on the long shift today, starting at one and finishing at midnight. I look around the nearly dead bar and raise my eyebrows.

“Really? They need two of us for this?”

“Right?” she replies, sighing. “This is going to be a boring shift.”

We spoke too soon.

Our first few hours were quiet. It picked up a bit around dinner but then dropped off. We thought we were getting it easy until bam. A fifty-strong bachelorette party strolled through the door. Since then, a twenty-strong bachelor party has joined them. Not connected—we checked.

They’re splitting their time between us and the cocktail bar upstairs. Unfortunately, they seem to like the louder music and space to dance down here because they’re drinking us out of white wine.

I pour four glasses and add them to the tab before I turn and pour three beers straight off. Rosie is the same at the other end. Both parties have mixed and no one seems to care anymore. In fact, I think a bridesmaid and an usher are making out in the corner.

I wipe the back of my hand across my forehead, and Rosie joins me at the register. “Liv, can you stay?” she asks. “I hate to do this, but I can’t handle this by myself. Donny won’t be here until eleven.”

“Of course. I’m not leaving you with these guys.” I turn and see two of the bachelorette party bitching at each other—heatedly. Jesus, nine p.m. and it’s started already. “Hey! Hey!”

They ignore me, so I put my fingers in my mouth and whistle. They stop and look at me, as do a few other people.

“If you’re gonna do that, take it outside!” I yell over the music, pointing to the door.

They seem to consider it for a moment before shrugging it off and walking in opposite directions. I pour a round of tequila shots, complete with lime and salt, and finally have five seconds to breathe.

A pee would be great though.

“It’s mental in here.”

I turn in the direction of Tyler’s voice and smile. “I have to stay on for two hours. I’m sorry.”

“No worries. Want me to go or wait here?”

“You can go if you want. It’s kind of crazy in here.”

“I’ll wait.” He winks.

I’m being yelled at for another beer, so I hold a finger up. “I’ll get you a drink as soon as I have a second. I promise.” I run to the middle of the bar and pour two pints simultaneously.

This continues all night. It takes me half an hour to get Tyler his drink, and the next one and a half are spent getting blisters from my flat shoes.

Fantastic. I should send Donny the bill for my Band-Aids.

Eventually, the boss shows up. There’s no sign of either party winding down any time soon. Donny rests a hand on my upper back as I pour two rounds of shots.

“A bachelorette party and a bachelor party on a Thursday night? They connected?”

“Yes and no. We don’t know either. They just showed up, and you can figure out the rest.” I take the cash from the girl in front of me and ring it up.

“Why didn’t you call? I would have come earlier. You were supposed to finish at nine, weren’t you?”

My eyes flick to him as I run the order through. “Really, Donny? Look around you. You think we’ve had time to call you?”

“I’ve been holding my piss for three hours,” Rosie grumbles, appearing next to him.

Donny sighs. “Okay, girls. Ro, you go use the bathroom. Liv, you can go home when she gets back, all right, hon?”

I meet Tyler’s gaze at the end of the bar. “Believe me. That’s all right with me.”

“New squeeze?” Donny asks, following my eyes.

“Now, Donny. You know better than to mix personal and professional lives.” I wink, laughing inside at the irony of my statement, and pour one last drink.

Rosie comes back and hugs me tight. “Thanks for staying. You’re doing the long shift tomorrow, right?”

I groan. “Yep. And I’m putting a fucking sign on the door banning all bachelorette and bachelor parties.”

I leave to her laughter. I get my coat from the back and grab Tyler’s hand on my way through the mass of people in the bar. Stepping outside, I take a deep breath. Oh, fresh air. Oh, space to breathe. How I’ve missed you.

“Your car’s in the parking lot.”

“I went to gym after the shoot. Worked off that takeout.” I dump my coat in the back despite the freezing temperature. “Sorry. Forgot.”

Tyler smiles and cups my face, brushing his thumbs across my cheeks. “You look exhausted, baby girl.”

“I’ve been there since two without a break.” I yawn. “Then running around like that for four hours. I’m beat.”

He kisses my forehead, sending a thrill through me. “Stay over tonight. To sleep.”

I shake my head. “I’m trusting you, but not that much.”

“Okay,” he acquiesces. “Did you get Dayton’s text earlier?”

“No, and I don’t think I want to.”

He laughs. “She’s cooking dinner for us all tomorrow night.”

“I’m working,” I smile weakly. “I have Saturday night off, but I’m doing the long shift. I won’t finish until one tomorrow morning.”

“Even though you just worked two extra hours?”

“Welcome to the world of bartending, honey. I’m gonna go home, eat, sleep, then repeat. Okay? Have fun at dinner tomorrow.” I yawn again and open my car door.

Tyler captures my lips with his in a swift movement. “Dinner will be Saturday night. Then you’re mine.”

I really did spend all of Friday in bed. I slept, ate, then headed into work. I worked my little ass off before going home and collapsing into bed at two a.m.

Now, however, I’m slumped over Dayton’s sofa, watching her compare fabric swatches to get the right tablecloth color.

And I couldn’t give a flying monkey if ivory and champagne and off-white are completely different. I want more coffee and another few hours of sleep.

“Liv, you are the worst bridesmaid ever.”

“You’re the worst bride ever,” I retort, sitting up with a huff. “It’s easy, Day. Your color scheme is white with champagne and pink. Your chair sashes are champagne and your centerpiece is a mixture of both but predominantly pink. Just have plain, old white for the table cloths. It’ll make the rest stand out better.”

She looks at me and the fabric. And back again. And back again. “I take it back. You’re the best bridesmaid ever. You’re a fucking genius.”

“That’s what they say,” I mumble, lying back down and closing my eyes. I yawn and snuggle into my hood.

“Why don’t you go home and get some rest?”

“Dinner,” I mumble again. “Just need coffee.”

“Wow, is Tyler that good?” She laughs.

“I’ve done two long shifts. But if you really must know, yes, he is.”

So good that my supposed full night’s sleep last night ended up with a vibrator intervention at three a.m. I need to get that man to tie me to a bedpost—stat. These dreams are making my clit insanely achy.

“Here.” She waves a steaming mug of coffee under my face, and I force my eyes open. If only I could drink from a mug sitting down. I need a sippy cup when I’m this tired.

I shove myself up into a sitting position and hug the mug. “I’m not sleeping great,” I admit.

Dayton chews her lip and looks down so I can’t see the worry. But I do. It’s almost funny how my sleeping with different guys isn’t a cause for concern, but as soon as I stick to one, we have a problem.

“I like him,” I say out loud, more to myself than her. There. I said it. I admitted it. “But I don’t want to date him.”

“Sweetie, you don’t really know him. You can’t tell if you want to date him until you do.”

“I don’t want to know him. Not that way—not right down to where it matters. I’m not ready for that.” I blow into my coffee. “I just needed to say it out loud.” I take a large gulp of coffee. Ouch.

“Okay. But you do know…”

“That’s he’s a sex addict? Yep. What are the chances, right? A sex addict and a love addict in a relationship that’s not really a relationship at all. We should sell our story to Disney and see if they can create a happily ever after out of this shit.”

“Looking for tips?” Dayton teases.

“Happily ever after? A way out? I’m not fussy.” I snort.

The apartment door opens and Tyler walks through with Aaron. Neither looks happy.

“What did you do to them?” I whisper to Dayton.

She grins. “Did you get your suits fitted?”

Well, that’ll be it.

“Men shouldn’t be pricked,” Tyler answers, chucking his jacket on the sofa. He picks it up again at Dayton’s sharp cough. “We do the pricking, but I’m a fucking voodoo doll after that.”

“He’s right, sweetheart. You’re lucky I love you after that.” Aaron kisses her and sits down next to her. “I need some coffee.”

“You’re aware of where the coffee machine is, Mr. Stone. You put it there,” she retorts, picking up a wedding magazine.

“I’m done with this stuff today.” Aaron snatches it from her and throws it across the room.

She gasps and sits up straight. “You did not just throw that on the floor!”

“It’s a well-known fact that the only things that should be thrown on the floor are clothes,” I add, earning an agreeing nod from Dayton.

“Is that right?” Tyler leans over the back of the sofa next to me.

“I don’t know. British dickheads would look good there, too.”

“Only if there’s his American bitch on top of him,” he whispers, nipping my earlobe.

Now I gasp. He gives me a suggestive look, but I narrow my eyes. His phone rings before I can say anything back to him and he pulls it from his pocket.

“What do you want? ... Tessa? Tess? What’s wrong?” He walks into the kitchen, and I look at Dayton and Aaron. Both of them are sitting straight, their eyes on Tyler. I know Tessa is his sister, but only because Day mentioned it before.

“What? Are you fucking joking? ... You did what?” Tyler runs a hand through his hair. “I can’t believe this! That bastard is lucky I’m on the other side of the world or I’d break his fucking neck!”

“Uh-oh,” Dayton whispers.

Aaron shushes her and stands up.

“Tessa, the knobhead has been cheating on you. Like I’m gonna be fucking calm! You’re my sister! ... I don’t give a flying fuck if you’re five minutes older. You’re still my fucking sister!”

“Ty, man,” Aaron says across the room. “You aren’t helping her. Calm down and call her later. Day will call her in a minute.”

Tyler turns back to us, fury written all over his face.

Dayton mouths, “Twins,” at me. Yeah, well, I gathered that much, Sherlock.

“Dayton will call you. Yeah… I’ll speak to you later. Love you.” He hangs up and drops his phone on the bar. He rubs his hands through his hair. His anger is palpable, and I know he’d give anything to be in London, tracking his sister’s husband down.

Right now, I’m learning one more thing about Tyler Stone. He’s fiercely protective of the people he loves.

I get up and hesitate for a moment. But just a moment—then I run to him, wrap my legs around his waist, and kiss him firmly. He steps back in shock, but he wraps one arm around my back and the other cups my ass and holds me up.

My hands frame his face as our lips move together. Slowly, with each kiss, the tension seeps from his body. I nip his bottom lip and he lightly sucks on mine. I grip his hair and he digs his fingers into my skin.

And neither of us cares for a second that it’s the first time we’ve kissed in front of someone else.

I just know, instinctively, that this will calm him down.

“Thank you,” he murmurs against my mouth.

I lower myself to the floor and kiss him one more time. “You’re welcome.”

His eyes dart over my shoulder and his lips quirk. “Your best friend is looking at you like you’ve grown an extra head.”

I turn around and stare at her. “What? Never seen two people kissing before?”

“It was sudden and unexpected.” She giggles. “I thought we’d have to give you a room.”

“You’d do that?” Tyler asks from behind me.

I elbow him in the stomach and sit back down. Dayton glances at us both before grabbing her phone and waving it at us. “I’m gonna go call Tessa.”

“Thanks.” Tyler sighs at her name.

We sit in silence until Day leaves the room. Then Aaron asks, ”What the hell happened?”

“That bastard she married has been bloody cheating on her with some aspiring model for two months. She found him fucking her on their couch yesterday morning.”

“She’s seen her lawyer, right?”

“Yep. She went straight to his office. There’s a clause in their prenup about cheating. I remember Mum insisting she put it in there. I guess she didn’t trust him.”

“I hope she takes him for everything he has,” I mutter.

Aaron smirks. “Oh, she will. Tessa is the female version of Tyler. Strong, pigheaded, and stubborn as shit. She’ll take everything without a second thought.”

“I’m not pigheaded,” Tyler argues.

I raise my eyebrows. “Um, you are.”

“Whatever. Look, cuz. Can you tell Day I’m sorry? I gotta go. I’m not in the mood for dinner now. I’m gonna call Mum and see if she knows anything.”

Aaron nods. “Sure. I’ll get Day to call you later if you want.”

“Thanks.”

I rub my thumb along my bottom lip as he leaves. Aaron stares at me, his lips quirked to one side.

“Go,” he says. “He won’t admit it because he’s a pigheaded bastard, but he needs someone to calm him down.”

“I’m sure he can find plenty of people to calm him down.”

“You’re not fooling anyone, Liv, and neither is he. We’ll do dinner next weekend. Go after him. He needs you to.”

I stand and grab my coat, giving Aaron one last look before I slip out the door after him.

“He needs you.” Dangerous words. Very dangerous words.

I pull out my phone and text Tyler.

 

Wait.

 

I take the elevator down and find him in the parking lot, resting against his car. “You weren’t thinking of leaving without me, were you?”

He drags his eyes up to me, and I drop the corner of my shirt over my shoulder, revealing my light-pink bra strap. Heat flares in the depths of his eyes, a desperate heat, and I get into his car without saying another word.

I lie on his bed on my stomach while he is on the phone with his mom in New York. He’s been out there for a while, and I’m nosy, so I open the drawers of his bedside cabinet. Contradicting myself at every turn, I know.

As much as I don’t want to know Tyler any better, I have a crazy desire to find out every little thing. I’m trying to convince myself that it’s a natural thing when you like a guy, but I know it’s not. That desire is more of a growing obsession, and that’s step two of my addiction.

Find out everything.

I pull out his passport and flip it open to the page with his photo. Judging by the date, he recently renewed it and updated the picture. Damn. There goes a possible giggle-fest.

I set it back into the drawer and finding nothing of interest in the top one, so I move to the second one. Now this is a goldmine of sexual goodness. Condoms, a couple of different lubes, and…

A bullet?

“Anything good in there?”

I look up and produce the bullet box. “Um?”

He grins, pushing the drawer shut with his foot. “It’s brand new. See? Sealed.” He undoes it and pulls out the tiny, purple vibrator.

“Yes, I’m just wondering why you have one.”

“Presumably for the same reason you do. To make you come.”

“You don’t need the bullet, or was I not clear enough half an hour ago?”

“It’s not just for that.” He switches it on. The quiet buzz fills the room, and he runs the tip of it down my neck and toward my breasts. “It’s for fun. Spice, remember?”

I wonder if he’s aware of how many times I’ve used my own bullet.

He turns it off and sets it on top of the nightstand. “Did you go in the third drawer?”

I shake my head. The grin that spreads across his face now makes me wonder what I missed. Fortunately, I find out quickly.

Handcuffs.

I can’t stop my tongue from wetting my lips. “Handcuffs.”

“Do you trust me?” he asks, his eyes boring into mine.

I look at the metal rings and meet his gaze again. Confidence boosts inside me, borne of knowing that the only place he can attach those is to his bed. “Yes.”

“Roll over and put your head on the pillows.”

I roll over and straighten on the bed. Tyler kneels next to me and clips one of the cuffs around one of my wrists. When I look up, he hooks the other around the back of one of the bars on his headboard. He clips the second one into place.

Going back to the drawer, he lifts up a key and sets it on the nightstand. “Any time, say stop and I will.”

Oh, I have no intention of saying stop.

His eyes crawl down my naked body. He removes his sweatpants, which he put on minus boxers. His cock springs to life, already semi hard, and he grabs the bullet from the side.

“I dreamed of this,” he murmurs against my neck. “Having you cuffed to my bed, naked, ready for me to enjoy. And I plan to—I plan to explore you with my hands, my tongue, and my little friend here.” He turns the bullet on and runs it below the curve of my breast. “And I’m going to enjoy it very, very much.”

“I dreamed of it, too,” I admit, my breath catching as he circles my nipple with the bullet.

“See? Perfect for me.” He flicks his tongue in the hollow spot at my collarbone. I shiver, his mouth and the bullet a heady mixture.

I shiver, his mouth and the bullet a heady mixture. He trails the bullet around both of my nipples, across the soft flesh of my breasts, and down my stomach. He draws lazy circles across it, dipping it into my navel now and then. It slides down to my bikini line in a tease that makes me clench. The whole time Tyler tastes my nipples, he’s seemingly oblivious to the part of my legs, the quiet begs from my mouth.

He lays the bullet, still vibrating, just above my bikini line and crawls down the bed. His hands circle my thighs and he parts my legs, hooking them over his shoulders.

He blows onto my aching pussy, the heat from his breath hitting me hard. I tug at the handcuffs, wanting his mouth there now.

“Don’t,” he whispers, looking up at me. “You’ll be sore. If you want them off, tell me.”

I shake my head. I don’t. Not really.

He slowly runs his tongue along my wet folds. My skin buzzes where the tiny vibrator is against it, and I buck my hips to get rid of it. Tyler pins them back down, his tongue pushing down on my clit. He takes his tongue away, reaches it inside me, and holy fuck.

He holds the bullet lightly against my clit as he licks and sucks his way around my pussy. Every inch of me is touched by his tongue except my clit. The bullet never moves, never wavers, and I can’t believe the tightness in my stomach. It feels like I’m going to—

Explode.

Tyler’s tongue stretches inside me as I come. I push my hips up, the pleasure too intense. I can’t move, can’t escape, and it only heightens the rush through my veins.

“That was my favorite yet,” he whispers. “Making you come.”

Keeping my legs hooked over his shoulders, he eases into me. This is how we fucked the first time, during what we thought would be our one-night stand.

He pushes deep into me, rubbing against my tender flesh, and kisses my calf. His hands are wrapped around my thighs to hold my legs in place as he fucks me. He reaches forward to palm my breasts, groaning.

“I love your tits. They’re just perfect for…” He squeezes them both hard and pinches my nipples.

I moan.

“Like that, babe? A bit rough?” He does it again, this time the pinch in time with his thrust inside, and I moan again.

The small sparks of pain from the pinches mingle with the heat coating my body. They’re painfully good, too good, and a third, softer pinch, has me arching my back into him. Mostly for what he was doing and partly so my hips tilt too.

Tyler swings my legs down and leans forward, one of his hands under my butt and holding it up. He nips his way up my neck until he reaches my ear and whispers, “You’re bad, Liv. You’re bad and I fucking love it.”

“I prefer wild,” I breathe out, finishing on a moan.

“You’re bad and you’re wild.” He picks up his pace. “You’re my wild, tempting bitch. Don’t go soft on me.”

I laugh, my fists clenching above my head. “Never.”

And when I come, it’s hard and it’s wild.