Bittersweet Magic (The Order #2)

She shrugged. “Only to take my mind off the fact that I was about to die, and sex is no big deal.”


“No?” She was lying. He was sure of it. Or at least he hoped. “Tell me, how long has it been since you had sex?”

She pursed her lips. “Fifty years, give or take a few.”

He bit back the grin that tugged at his lips. Inside he was high-fiving, and he realized that he wanted sex to be a big deal for her. At least he wanted sex with him to be a big deal. “You like sex, so if it was no big deal you’d be getting it regularly. I’m guessing you don’t have sex because it is a big deal.”

“Just don’t push it,” she snarled.

She was getting defensive; he was definitely getting through to her. “What if I want to push it?”

“Save it. I’ve had a rough night, and I’d like to relax. Hey, look, we’re nearly back. I’m for a long hot bath, a glass of scotch, and my bed.”

“And I’m for a couple of hours of earth shattering sex and mind-blowing orgasms. Sure I can’t tempt you to join me?”

…

Crap.

Roz sat there with her mouth open, her nipples hard, and her sex hot and swollen with need.

The weird thing was if he’d tried to woo her with sweet words, told her he’d cared, she could have sneered and walked away.

But who could walk away from the offer of earth-shattering sex and mind-blowing orgasms? It would take a stronger woman than her. Did that make her shallow?

No, just scared of emotional commitment and desperate for sex.

She suddenly realized that the car had stopped and that they were back in the underground parking area beneath the Order. Or above the Order.

Somehow, Jonas had gotten out of the driver’s seat without her even noticing. Piers had that effect on her. He was dangerous. And sexy as hell.

Of course, she could just stay here. Sex in the backseat of a car with Piers. And it would avoid having to wait. She wasn’t sure she could wait. She turned to suggest it just as the van pulled up beside them, and she swore. Maybe they could just stay very still and pretend they weren’t here.

When they didn’t move, someone knocked on the tinted window. Piers sighed and reached across to open her door. She scrambled out, and Piers got out behind her. Roz was aware of little other than his tall form against her back. He leaned in close. “Multiple mind-blowing orgasms,” he whispered in her ear, sending shivers down through her body and turning her insides liquid.

“So are we meeting in your office?” Christian asked.

She tried to make sense of the words as she glanced back over her shoulder. Piers was watching her out of heavy-lidded eyes. “Well?” he asked.

“Multiple—as in more than one?”

“Lots more than one.”

She nodded once, and he released his breath.

He turned briefly to Christian. “Later. We should wait for Asmodai anyway. Call me when he gets here.” Then he put his hands around her waist and tossed her over his shoulder. For one second she considered complaining, but only one, and then she relaxed. She could feel the bunching of his muscles as he moved. He was hard like steel.

“Where the hell are you going?” Christian asked.

Piers paused. “I’m going to debrief Rosamund.”

Roz sniggered again, burying her flaming face against his back and screwing her eyes up tight as she passed the small group.

She didn’t open them until Piers gripped her around the waist and tossed her away. She let out a little yelp as she landed on her back on something soft. She lay in the middle of the biggest bed she had ever seen, in the center of a room with no windows and dark red walls. The sheets beneath her matched the walls, as did the mound of pillows beneath her head.

Piers loomed over her, his eyes dark midnight blue. He unbuckled the shoulder holsters and dropped them to the floor. He did the same with the weapons belt at his waist. Then he pulled the black T-shirt over his head, and her breath caught in her throat.

He was spectacular. Roz came up on her elbows so she could see him more clearly. If he was putting on a show for her, she wasn’t going to miss any of it. His skin was pale, almost glowing with a luminescent sheen, satin stretched over the swell of muscle. His shoulders were broad, his waist narrow, his chest smooth except for a sprinkle of fine golden hair between his pale, almost flat nipples.

His belly was lean, and another strip of golden hair bisected the ridged plane disappearing into his waistband. The black leather pants were a stark contrast to his pale skin. They rested low on his hips, and she could see the bulge of his erection pressing against the zipper.