Can't Touch This (Can't Touch This #1)

Boom.

Nose to shaft, chin to balls.

I felt him.

Hard but soft. Hot but steel.

I felt him on my face!

Get it off.

Oh my God, what did I do in a previous life to deserve this?

A loud humph escaped his lips as victory replaced my shock. I caught the plummeting dog and saved the day. Standing up straight, I quickly placed the squirmy creature back onto the table and pulled out my script pad to jot down what he would need to buy.

He needs to leave.

Now.

I didn’t care if Polly refused to look after him. She’d have to after this.

I’m mortified.

The poor guy was doubled over in pain, sucking in gasps of air.

By the time I’d scribbled a puppy formula and a few vitamins, he was able to stand upright. A loud laugh froze my fingers and I couldn’t stop my head from tilting upward.

“You know…” He wheezed through another wash of pain. “I offered you the right to touch it. Not faceplant into it.”

He cupped the delicate meat and veg between his legs. It wasn’t just snack size, either. It was a banquet—need to go back for seconds and possibly thirds—size.

Damn him.

Damn him and his sexy face and alluring banquet.

Tonight, I wouldn’t just be reading, I would be scrolling online for a vibrating friend to replace the broken one I’d put out of commission last month. I hadn’t replaced it up till now because I didn’t want to have the temptation every night.

Who had a relationship with her fun-for-one wand, anyway? Not a sane woman. But this sort of issue was exactly why a woman had a relationship with battery operated toys.

Because situations like this—face in crotch situations—wouldn’t be nearly as awkward if she’d had an orgasm or three and could withstand the nuclear superpowers of a virile single man sniffing around for sex.

Go away, superman, and leave me be.

However, if Ryder heard my silent request, he did the opposite. Leaning toward me, he inhaled.

Did he just sniff me?

“You know, if you were interested, you only had to ask.”

“I’m not,” I quipped.

“Not interested or not in the mood to ask?” He grinned. “Because really, you just took advantage of me in your workplace behind locked doors. That’s a case for the courts. Don’t you think?”

“You wouldn’t.” I froze. “It was an accident. You know it was. You wouldn’t dare—”

He buffed his nails on his white t-shirt beneath a faded brown bomber jacket—even his clothes were hot. Where did men like him shop? Sex-R-us?

“I would dare if you continue to annoy me.”