When I pulled away, her eyes were clouded and hazy. “Why are you stopping?”

“Because you’re putting on a dress and we’re working on your list.”

“But—”

“Don’t worry, cupcake. I’m going to taste you every chance I get tonight, and my cock will be buried inside you before the sun comes up tomorrow.”

With that promise hanging in the air, I took another step back, and her gaze dropped to the fly of my jeans.

“I could—”

The thought of her mouth on my cock had it surging against the zipper so hard, I thought it might bust free.

“I know you could wreck me again with that sweet mouth, but not right now. Go get in the shower. Don’t touch yourself either. I want you just as needy as you are right now, because I just decided we’re adding a new spin to your list. Everywhere we go to check something off, we’re going to give you a whole different sort of experience too.”

“What do you mean?” Even though her question was quiet, I knew she was intrigued.

“It means that if we’re sliding into a booth to eat, I might finger that tight little pussy and play with your clit until you come. Or if we’re getting a drink at Pat O’Brien’s, I might drag you off to a supply closet, and you can wrap those sweet lips around my cock.”

I didn’t think her eyes could get any bigger as I explained.

“You down with that? You wanna get dirty in NOLA, cupcake?”

“Yes.” The shock faded and daring took its place.

That’s my girl, I thought. And I realized that’s exactly how I thought of her—as mine.

Except I had no idea whether I’d get to keep her or not.

But tonight, I’d do my best to make her as addicted to me as I was to her.

I COULD SWEAR EVEN MY skin vibrated as I stepped into the shower and hurried through my routine. I’d never been so turned on in my life than I was when Bishop was telling me about this new aspect he was weaving into my list.

You wanna get dirty in NOLA, cupcake?

With him? Absolutely. I wanted it more than anything. I was already dying to know how he was going to feel inside me, and now he promised I wouldn’t have to wait long.

Tonight was the night.

I shaved every inch of skin that could possibly need to be shaved, and scrubbed the scent of donuts and coffee from my body and hair. When my fingers dragged over my pussy to make sure I hadn’t missed any stray hairs, my clit flared to life and I stifled a moan. I was tempted to keep circling it until I came.

What would he do? Come in and spank me for being a naughty girl and getting myself off in the shower?

“You better not be playing with that pussy in there, cupcake. I’ll see it on your face when you come out.”

Really? How could he possibly know that? His timing was unfairly ridiculous and accurate.

“I don’t know what you could possibly be talking about,” I yelled from the shower, although it was unnecessary. With an apartment as tiny as mine, you barely had to breathe to be heard in the next room.

“Yeah, you do.”

“I’ll be out in a second.”

When I stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around myself, I peeked out of the bathroom door and Bishop was there watching me.

“Are you wet, cupcake?”

“Well, I just got out of the—”

“No, your pussy. The one you were touching while you were in the shower after I told you not to.”

Heat bloomed on my cheeks, but I wanted him to know the truth. “Yes, but I only bumped my clit. I didn’t even make myself come.”

“I’m gonna have to check for myself, I think.”

He reached under my towel and skimmed the back of his knuckle along my slit.

“Fucking soaked.” He groaned as he pressed just hard enough to slide his finger between my pussy lips.

My legs trembled, and I reached out a hand to press against his chest to brace myself. I don’t know what to call the sound I made, but it was somewhere between a moan and a cry for more.

Bishop kept stroking.

“You make yourself come a lot in the shower?”

My voice shook when I answered. “Sometimes . . .”

He straightened his finger and circled my clit. “Do you picture me while you do it? Say my name when you come?”

I leaned into his touch, wanting more pressure, but Bishop pulled away as I pressed closer.

“Answer me, cupcake.”

On a moan, I replied, “Maybe.”

Bishop pressed hard against my clit, and I could feel the orgasm rising. But he didn’t let me have it. He pulled his hand away and sucked his finger clean.

“But—”

“Greedy girl with your wet little pussy. Get dressed before I change my mind and never let you out of your bed for the next twenty-four hours.”

I stared at him. “How is that a threat?”

Bishop chuckled darkly. “Go, now.”

When we stepped out of my apartment, anticipation thrummed through me, along with need that wouldn’t quiet. It had taken everything I had not to get myself off in the bedroom after he’d brought me so close. But I had a feeling he’d make me pay for that somehow.

The sounds of a city partying its hardest came from every direction in the French Quarter, and it seemed every balcony was full. I’d opted for the teal dress and black ballet flats, and had dried my hair and applied makeup faster than I ever had before.

Bishop’s appreciative gaze told me I’d done just fine. His words confirmed it.

“You’re a class act, cupcake. And you’re all fucking mine tonight.”

As much as I loved that, a feeling of disappointment threaded through the excitement. Tonight was all well and good, but what if I wanted more than just tonight?

I pushed away the thought and decided to focus on having fun and checking off as many items on my Must Do list as I could. I was here to live in the moment, not worry about what was going to happen tomorrow. For all I knew, I could get a message telling me to get my ass back to New York.

I pinned a bright smile to my face and followed Bishop. “Where are we going?”

I expected him to say something about crawfish for dinner or maybe the casino for blackjack, but instead he shocked me.

“First, we’re gonna get you some beads.”