Page 110 of Manic

He takes a step closer to me, and I can smell his familiar scent—leather and something distinctly Tor. "That's what I want too, babe. More than anything."

Just as the tension between us threatens to ignite, Tindra's voice rings out from upstairs. "I'm gonna take a quick shower!"

Tor's serious expression melts into a mischievous grin.

He chuckles, his eyes gleaming. "I think that means we have time for a quickie."

I roll my eyes, trying to ignore the heat building in my core. "Who said you're getting one?"

"I did," Tor growls, and before I can react, he's scooped me up in his arms.

My protest dies in my throat as he carries me swiftly to the laundry room, kicking the door shut behind us.

He sets me down and immediately reaches for the dryer, flicking it on.

The loud hum fills the small space, and I realize he's creating a noise buffer.

My heart races as Tor turns back to me, his eyes dark with desire.

"Tor, we can't—" I start to say, but his hands are already at the hem of my shirt, slowly lifting it.

"We can," he murmurs, his lips brushing against my ear. "And we will."

As his fingers graze my skin, sending shivers down my spine as he slides down my jeans and panties.

I know I'm fighting a losing battle against my own desires.

The rational part of my brain screams that this is a bad idea, that Tindra could come looking for us any minute.

But as Tor's lips find mine in a searing kiss, I find myself giving in to the intoxicating pull between us.

I break away from the kiss, breathless. "Tor, Tindra could come find us any moment," I whisper urgently, my eyes darting to the closed door.

Tor snickers, his bottle green eyes twinkling with mischief.

He leans in close, his voice low and devilishly handsome as he says, "Then we'd better be quick."

I shake my head, torn between anxiety and arousal. "You're nuts, you know that?"

"Yeah," he grins, his hands sliding down to my hips. "And that's why you fucking love me."

My heart skips a beat at his words.

I do love him, more than I care to admit sometimes.

But right now, his cocky attitude is both infuriating and incredibly arousing.

"I do love you," I admit, trying to keep my voice steady. "But not when you're being a cocky asshole."

Tor's grin widens, and before I can react, his hand slips between my legs.

His thumb finds my clit, rolling it in slow, deliberate circles.

A gasp escapes my lips as warmth floods through my body.

"Really?" he murmurs, his eyes locked on mine. "'Cause you seem to love this cocky asshole."

I can't help the moan that escapes me, my body betraying my attempts at resistance.

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