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she said, making her way towards the closet, “I pack four silk scarves.”
    He watched her from the bed. The sight of his erection jutting upward from the honey-blond thatch of his pubic hair made her mouth water. The tattoos on his torso did the same. She was going to get the story behind those tattoos out of him before the night ended. But for now, she was getting something else out of him.
    “Every trip?” he asked, smoothing a hand over his abs to cup his balls.
    Chloe couldn’t help but hum with delight. That he had no problems touching himself in front of her made her even hornier.
    God, he was perfect.
    “Every trip,” she echoed, reaching the closet. She presented him with her back as she opened the twin doors. “For when I have you exactly where I want you.”
    He propped himself up on his elbows and raised an eyebrow. “On your hotel bed, waiting for you to tie me up?”
    She flicked a coy smile over her shoulder at him. “Yep.”
    “And now that time has finally arrived?”
    Reaching into the closet, she withdrew the four black silk scarves she’d packed with this very moment in mind and then turned back to him, trailing the scarves through her fingers. “It has.”
    He held up a hand, expression expectant. “Then get to it.”
    She grinned at his invitation.
    And then sprinted for the bed.
    He burst out laughing as she threw herself at him, his hands sliding over her hips when he fell backward onto the mattress under her momentum.
    She straddled him, knees pressed to his ribs, arms tucked on either side of his head, her breasts crushed to his chest. “Now,” she murmured against his lips, reveling in the open desire she saw in his eyes, “we should come up with a safe word.”
    “Fog.”
    Warm joy flooded Chloe. “The title of my second album?”
    He nibbled at her lips, smoothing his hands down her back to cup and squeeze her butt cheeks. “Really? I was just thinking of my last tour in London and the word popped into my—”
    She squeezed his ribs with her knees.
    He burst out laughing, kneading her backside with increasing pressure. “Kidding, kidding. The title of your second album.”
    Chloe couldn’t help but preen. “Do you have it?”
    Jed laughed again. “Yes. That make you want to fuck me even more?”
    “Hell, yeah.”
    “Then you’d better do it, before I forget all about the scarves and flip you onto your back and bury myself to the hilt in your—”
    She shut him up with a hungry, punishing kiss.
    He growled into her mouth, his hands on her backside growing as wild as their kiss.
    When she raked her hand down his right arm and circled his wrist, he stiffened beneath her. His cock pulsed, sandwiched between his groin and her pussy.
    Heart fast, she tore her lips from his and straightened away from his upper body.
    He watched her, nostrils flaring as she wrapped one black scarf around his wrist with a firm knot.
    “Other wrist, please,” she said, rolling her hips so her pussy stroked the underside of his erection.
    Wordlessly, he offered her his left wrist.
    Between their bodies, his cock pulsed again.
    Holding his gaze, Chloe wrapped his wrist in another scarf and fixed it with a tight knot.
    “Don’t move,” she instructed, swinging her knee over his hip.
    “Where the fuck else would I want to be?”
    Happiness licked at her core at his question, and the open desire in his voice.
    Twisting on the bed, she crawled down to his knees, very deliberately waving her backside in the air.
    He did exactly what she was hoping he would.
    As she drew closer to his ankles, he sat up and—with a very guttural growl—grabbed her hips with brutal hands and swiped his tongue over the seam of her pussy in a rough invasion. Liquid excitement and need flooded through her at the ungentle caress and she let out a throaty moan, holding herself motionless for a heartbeat as he tormented her sex with his tongue.
    God, it was exquisite.
    Her body thrummed, already on the brink of eruption