“That sounds like a challenge,” she said with a pleased smile. My eyes moved over every inch of her body and I seemed unable to pull them away. She was f**king beautiful. Her legs were long—so long—and her feet were still strapped in the same blue shoes she’d been wearing at dinner.

She took a step toward me, and then another. “Do you remember the last time we were here?” she asked.

“I’m trying not to.”

She pressed a hand to my chest and easily pushed me farther into the back of the couch before straddling my lap. “You f**ked me on the floor . . .” She leaned forward, kissed my jaw. “And the balcony”—she kissed my neck—“and the bed, and the floor and the bed and the floor.”

“And don’t forget the chair in the corner,” I mumbled, hissing in a breath as she scratched her nails over my stomach, reached for my tie, loose but still hanging from my neck.

“What if I said I wanted to re-create some of that?” she whispered into my ear. “What if I asked you to tie me up with this? Spank me? Fuck me in th—”

I yawned. Wide.

She jerked back and looked at me, taking in my slumped posture, the way I could barely keep my eyes open. Hers narrowed.

“What did you do?” she asked, suspicious.

I could only smile—a stupid, drowsy, lopsided grin. “Took out a little insurance policy,” I slurred. “You’re very pretty by the way, and I really do like this . . . thing you’re wearing and would like to request that you wear it for me again . . . someday.”

“What did you do, Ryan?” she repeated, louder, and stood up, hands on her hips as she frowned down at me.

“Just only took a tiny little sleeping pill,” I said, yawning as I pulled the small bottle from my pocket, holding it up to show her. “Teensy tiny.”

I had a prescription for these for international travel but had yet to use a single one before this. I was actually amazed how fast they worked, and slightly uneasy over the prospect of having no control over my state of arousal. Especially since Chloe looked like she might castrate me.

“You son of a bitch!” she yelled, pushing on my chest. It was sort of a counterproductive move, however, because I merely slumped over, sinking facedown into one of the cushions. She started to yell about . . . something, but I couldn’t quite make it out. I took comfort knowing someday she’d know I was really doing this for her.

The last thing I saw before my eyes closed was her storming out of the room, shouting something about payback.

Finally, Bennett: 1; Chloe: 0

Chapter Three

He didn’t cave and bang the daylights out of me last night. In fact, he’d gone so far as to drug himself and be taken out of commission. Clearly it was time to up my game.

I’d spent much of dinner last night watching Bennett be adorably mischievous while steering my rascal aunts toward an unsuspecting Will. I’d watched him be jealous and irritated in equal measure when Bull regaled me with stories of the many cars he’d sold and women he’d banged. I’d watched Bennett with adoration as he greeted his family, waited until his mother’s food was in front of her before starting in on his own, thanked each waiter personally, and stood when I stood to go to the bathroom.

Bennett Ryan was a swoony f**king bastard, and tonight—stupid chastity rule or not—I was going to ride him like a horse.

I had a suitcase full of lingerie and outfits that were guaranteed to bring him to his knees. Most of the skimpy, lacy things had been reserved for the honeymoon, but I suspected at this point we wouldn’t have much need for any form of clothing once we hit the private resort in Fiji.

In a way it was nice to have a new mission. Instead of stressing about our families and the chaos we were diving into headlong, I could focus on the fact that Bennett really just needed to f**k me a few times a day. It was a simple goal, really. I couldn’t control the tides or the insanity of our families, but I could definitely control this man’s cock.

Will had named this evening the Final Night of Freedom. Even though it was Thursday and the wedding was Saturday, he declared that the rehearsal on Friday all but sealed Bennett’s fate as a married man, so he and Max had planned a night out for all of us in the Gaslamp Quarter. We were going to hit a few bars, have a few drinks. As Max put it, “Tonight we’re going to get right pissed and pretend Chloe didn’t hand each of us a to-do list five miles long.”

I’d ordered the guys to get ready in our suite and the women—Sara, Hanna, my childhood friend Julia, soon-to-be sister-in-law Mina, and I—were getting ready in Julia’s room. I did this in part to have some girl-time before we all went out together, but also so that Bennett wouldn’t see me until we got to the bar. If he saw what I was going to wear out tonight, he would tie me to the bed with one of my slips and change my clothes for me.