Hot in Handcuffs: Three Novellas of Erotic Capture

  “That bit about you letting yourself into his place was like a dog lifting his leg.”

  She met his gaze through the window. “You don’t have any right to my personal history. You don’t have any rights at all where I’m concerned. You’re a possible good time and that’s it. And even that’s debatable at the moment.”

  “Is it, now?” He glanced at his watch, then slid into the truck and slammed the door shut. It was four thirty. “Let’s go.”

  chapter three

  Darcy got behind the wheel and slid the key in the ignition, her thoughts roiling. Backing down from Jared Cameron wasn’t an option. At the tiniest show of weakness, he would steamroll right over her. And the alternative—keeping him at a distance—wasn’t an option she considered for more than a second. She wanted him. Badly. Almost desperately, if she was being honest. So, as overbearing and aggravating as he was, she was inclined to put up with his social Asperger’s if that’s what it took to have him in her bed.

  They drove to what was left of Florinda’s Dance Studio in silence. Jared’s gaze slid back and forth over the city, taking everything in. There was a story behind his precise focus, something that explained the edge to him that set him apart from other law enforcement officers she’d met. He was hyperaware and highly perceptive. He moved like a predator, with an economy of movement and lightness of stride. And he never let his guard down.

  A man hunter. That’s what he was. Someone had spent a lot of money training him to be dangerous. The military, she guessed.

  She parked on the street in front of the studio and got out. There were already bulldozers on the lot and giant Dumpsters to collect the rubble. Her stomach clenched tight with grief and sadness so thick it was hard for her to swallow past it.

  Sucking in a deep breath, she joined Jared at the curb. He turned slowly, examining the surrounding neighborhood.

  Darcy steeled her resolve and moved forward into the roofless ruins, trying to picture the place as it had once been. She was sorry it had been so long since she’d last visited. Her memories were cobwebbed from childhood. There were only faint echoes of bygone times when she and Danielle had playfully competed against one another and shared ballerina dreams.

  “Adults or children?” Jared asked, breaking into her reverie.

  “Excuse me?” She looked at him.

  His gaze narrowed. “Are you okay? You don’t look so good.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  “Cut it out. You look”—he frowned—“sad.”

  “Both adults and children,” she answered, skipping over the too-close-to-home comment. She was recovering her composure by the moment. Thanks to him, and the aura of strength and security that surrounded him. “And all styles, from ballet to hip-hop to ballroom.”

  “You were a student.” It wasn’t a question.

  She took a deep breath, knowing it would be useless to deflect him. Nothing slipped by him. “A long time ago.”

  He nodded. His hands went to his hips as he looked over what was left. “Considering the size of the town, how large were the classes?”

  “Five to fifteen students. The owners used to be professional dancers. People came from all over the country to study with them.” She pointed at the quaint motel across the street. “They had arrangements for out-of-towners with the Daniels family.”

  “We’ll have to dig into those former students.”

  “Sheriff Miller has been working on that.”

  Jared nodded. “Morales is on it, then.”

  At her questioning glance, he filled in, “My partner.”

  She watched him walk the perimeter of the crumbling brick walls, his cool cop’s eyes taking in everything. Her chest tightened as her past combined with her present, but she put it aside and answered his questions.

  Nearly an hour later, he glanced at his watch and pointed out, “It’s quarter to six.”

  There was a wealth of promise in those words and the heat in his eyes.

  Darcy nodded. He would dull the pain, at least for a little while. “Let’s go.”

  THEY MADE A quick stop at Darcy’s office, where she grabbed the files Jared had perused earlier and swapped out her work truck for a convertible BMW that was incongruous in a town filled with pickups and modest compacts.

  She glanced at him, showing no doubts or trepidation. “Your place or mine?”

  “Dinner first?” he asked, because he wasn’t a completely one-track-minded Neanderthal. Okay…he was. But he didn’t want this go-round with her to be his last. If he was going to ignore his better sense, he might as well do it all the way.

  “Dinner later.”

  Fuck yeah. “Your place, then. Mine is a motel with paper-thin walls.”

  “Right.” She backed up with speedy precision, and the sleek sports car purred out of the parking lot.

  “Drugstore.” He met her gaze when she glanced at him. “I didn’t come prepared for this.”

  She got to the store quick but declined to go in with him. “It’ll be all over town in a half hour anyway, but I’d rather not encourage the spread if I can help it.”

  Once he got inside the store, he realized quickly that she hadn’t been kidding. The woman at the register eyed his purchases with an avid gaze and smiled at him with a delight that rankled. If he’d been any less impatient, he would have had Darcy drive him to the next town to buy condoms. As it was, he made it in and out of the store in less than ten minutes, dropping the bag on the floorboard between his feet when he slid back into the passenger seat. Darcy was turning back onto the street before he got his seat belt on.

  Jared leaned his head back against the headrest and closed his eyes, relishing the slow simmer in his blood. He hadn’t been this eager to get into a woman’s pants in a very, very long time. He was also inordinately curious about Darcy’s home and what it would reveal about her. “How long have you lived in Lion’s Bay?”

  “My whole life, except for a brief stint around college.”

  There was something in her voice that made him open his eyes and look at her. She’d released her ponytail from the elastic band, freeing the chocolate strands to whip around in the evening air. Her head was tilted in a way that could be described only as deeply sensual. She sought the feel of the wind rushing over her skin and through her hair as she would a lover’s caresses.

  He took a deep, slow breath. Darcy was clearly a tactile woman who wanted to be touched. And he was going to touch every inch of her, inside and out.

  They pulled up to a small, dated, one-story ranch-style home. It was so diametrically opposed to what he would have pictured her gravitating to that he thought they’d made another pit stop at first. Then she pulled into the carport on the side of the house.

  He frowned. She was modern, sexy, and fierce. He’d gotten that impression from the way she decorated her office and from the car she drove. But the house she lived in was retro and uninspired. There was a story there. He’d dig it out.

  He followed her to the back door with a deliberately moderated stride, stretching out the last moments of delicious anticipation. There was nothing in the world like the buildup to a mind-blowing orgasm, and there was no doubt that he was minutes away from having the first of many tonight.

  Darcy preceded him up the utilitarian cement walkway to a matching set of three steps and a small porch. She was through the door before he reached the tiny staircase. He climbed slowly, his cock getting harder with every step he took.

  When he reached the threshold of the open door, he paused. Took another deep breath. Let it out. He absorbed the fact that somewhere over the course of a few short hours, fucking the sexy fire inspector had become damn near necessary to his sanity.

  On an intellectual level, he understood the pull between them. He’d spent most of his life studying human behavior and pinpointing how best to hunt and kill men. He was well aware that they were all animals at their core, creatures of instinct and hormonal impetuses. He and Darcy had an explosive attracti
on at that base level, and neither of them was inclined to fight it. But that didn’t mean he was taking it gracefully. He needed control and unadulterated reason, and Darcy was fucking with both of those. He was hanging on by a thread, and knowing that it was going to snap at any second had him edgy and frustrated.

  She stepped into view, unabashedly undressing in the living room. Only the kitchen stood between him and her, the pathway delineated by the preparation/cooking area to his left and an older, sturdily built wood table to his right.

  Her shirt was already off and her arms were reaching behind her, unclasping a sensible bra that was notable only for its color—black—and the saucy red bow that nestled between her small breasts. “Are you going to stand out there all night, Deputy?”

  She was running in overdrive. Christ. Not that he minded, but…

  Actually, he did mind. He was too wound up to just fuck her into a good time and get shown the door. He wanted his fill, needed it, so he could get his damn brain out of his pants and back in the game.

  His T-shirt was already clearing his head when he crossed into the house and kicked the back door closed. He threw the dead bolt and turned back to her, tossing the condoms on the dining table before dealing with his holster, badge, and belt.

  Darcy continued to strip while he did, her movements rushed and without artifice yet still sexy as hell. Those heavy-lidded eyes…the flushed cheeks…the glistening parted lips…

  Everything about her screamed “sex” to him. He almost tripped in the process of toeing out of his boots, and forced himself to stand still while he tore open the button fly of his jeans. The freeing of his engorged cock was such a relief he groaned, a sound he repeated with more vehemence when she kicked off her panties and set her hands on her hips. Waiting. Naked. Ready.

  He grabbed one of the two boxes of condoms and ripped it open, snagging a string of foil-wrapped packages in grasping fingers. Prowling forward, Jared separated one square and caught the rest between his teeth, deftly suiting up as he closed the distance between them.

  Wide-eyed, she backed away. Her chest heaved with panting breaths; her tongue darted out to wet dry lips. He pursued her to the couch, watching as the backs of her legs hit the edge of the cushions and she sprawled into them.

  He shoved the coffee table aside with a push of his foot, his focus solely on her and the feminine hunger that poured off her in waves of near-tangible heat. She stared at his dick with an avarice that made his balls tighten. His jaw unclenched on a deep inhale, releasing the condoms to fall to the floor.

  Crowding her into the corner, Jared caught the back of the sofa with his left hand and cupped her pussy with his right, looming over her.

  “Oh!” she gasped in that little girl voice that drove him crazy.

  “Good,” he growled, his fingertips gliding through silky moisture. “You’re wet and hot. Primed for fucking.”

  Her neck arched back as he parted the lips of her cunt and massaged her clit. “Yes. Do it.”

  Bending his head, he caught her upraised lips before he thought about it. Kissing wasn’t an act he much cared for himself. Or so he’d thought. But then his mind had shut off at some point between the unhooking of her bra and the removal of her panties. He was eating at her mouth as if he could sate his hunger that way, devouring her, delving into the silken recesses with a greed he couldn’t control.

  Her low moan only goaded his ferocious need. He sucked on her tongue as she licked into his mouth, sliding the circle of his lips up and down the slender protrusion, relishing the way she shivered and slickened the hand massaging her pussy.

  With eyes half lidded with desire, Jared lifted his head and watched her as he pushed two fingers into her, watched the way her swollen lips parted on a gasp. He penetrated her slowly, deliberately, holding her gaze with his so that he owned her pleasure. He took her to the knuckles, then withdrew, biting his lower lip at how tight and plush she felt. How slick and hot.

  “Umm,” he purred, his dick aching with the need to be where his fingers were. “Open your legs wide, Darcy. Let me get to you.”

  Her lithe thighs spread gracefully, her heels lifting to the couch and her knees falling open. Presented with a beautifully pink and depilated pussy, Jared felt his tenuous control slipping by the moment. He pumped his fingers deep and fast, over and over, fucking her pretty juicy cunt until she was grinding her hips into his hand and making sexy little noises. She cupped her tits in a kneading grip, her fingers tugging at the hard little nipples, her breath escaping her arched throat in mewling pants.

  All the while he hovered over her mouth, teasing her with tantalizing flicks of his tongue, staying just far enough out of reach that she couldn’t have the deep French kiss they both craved. It would be too much, he’d lose his mind and his restraint, and he needed her to come first. Needed to ease the desperate tightness of her pussy. Because once he got into her, all bets were off.

  “Yes.” She gasped, her slim torso glistening with perspiration. “Yes, I’m going to come…Oh, God…”

  Darcy fell into climax with a violent full-body shudder, her cunt clutching at his working fingers with a strength that nearly set him off. He dropped to his knees, his mouth replacing his hand, his tongue spearing through her tender convulsing tissues. He consumed her like a man possessed, burying his face in her silky wet core, tonguing her cunt until she came again. And again. Her short nails clawing at the sofa as she cried out words he couldn’t hear over the rushing of blood in his ears. He couldn’t get enough. Needed more of her taste, her pleasure, her surrender.

  Her damp palm pressed to his sweat-slick forehead, pushing him away. “Jared…Jesus…I’m going to pass out before you get inside me.”

  Fuck that. He’d eat more of her pussy later, when she was too wiped out to argue and his dick wasn’t throbbing like a son of a bitch. Damned if she’d check out before he got his cock in her.

  Wiping his mouth on her inner thigh, Jared rose and caught the back of her leg over his arm. He pulled it high and wide, opening her completely.

  She grasped him in both hands, making him wince as the pleasure of her touch threatened to send him over the edge. Her gaze stayed with his as she positioned him at her opening, sliding the crown around in her wetness before notching him into her tiny slit.

  “God, Darcy. This is gonna be so fucking good.”

  The weight of his body was the force behind his entry. As his cock sank into her cushioning pussy, his breath hissed out in agonized pleasure. He’d never been so hard or his body so tense.

  Whimpering, she writhed beneath him. “Jared.”

  The way she said his name, in that breathless girly voice, did him in. He dug his feet into the floor and he drove deep, spearing into her with a mindless thrust. Her back bowed, crushing her small breasts into his chest. The feel of her pressed against him was like a punch to the gut. His abdomen clenched, his blood raged, and his adrenaline spiked. Her cunt quivered around him, massaging his tormented dick, stealing any possibility that he might’ve reined himself in.

  He groaned, his hips churning against hers. “You feel amazing…so damn tight and plush…”

  Darcy’s teeth sank into his shoulder, her hands clutching at his waist. The bite of pain was perfect, enough to jolt him out of the haze of near-painful pleasure and goad him into moving.

  Shoving his arms beneath her, Jared caught her to him, crushing her against him from shoulder to hip. With her pelvis tilted up to cradle him and her body completely restrained by the bands of his arms, he possessed her completely. He gave a tentative thrust, withdrawing partway, then shoving back inside her.

  She released his shoulder, her head falling back to once again arch over the armrest. She moaned. “Do that again.”

  “All night,” he promised darkly, taking her with another fierce stroke, watching the need flare higher in the depths of her jade green eyes. “You won’t remember what it felt like to go without my cock inside you.”

  Darcy’s cunt
clenched around him and he broke. Rearing back, he lunged hard and deep. His tempo increased, faster and faster, until he was riding her relentlessly. Pounding into her. Nailing her to the couch with powerful drives of his hips.

  In a distant part of his mind, he knew he was taking her too roughly, working her snug pussy too hard, but she was taking everything he had to give her and demanding more.

  “Harder,” she gasped, throwing her hips at him. “Deeper. Ah…you’re so big. It’s so good…”

  It was beyond good. She was killing him with her enthusiasm—the raking of her nails across his back, her heels in the backs of his thighs spurring him on, her silky tissues rippling up and down his aching cock. And her voice, which rivaled the rhythmic slap of his heavy balls against her damp flesh as the most erotic thing he’d ever heard.

  “You’re driving me crazy,” he growled, unable to stop fucking her, needing to get deeper inside her. He was bottoming out with every plunge, filling every inch of her, his eyes rolling back because she was deliciously tight and scorching hot. The softly feminine smell of her skin was going to his head, intoxicating him, making him dizzy. Just when he thought he might blow it and go off without her, she began to tense.

  “Oooh.” She shivered violently. “I’m going to come again.”

  “Do it.” Jared bit down on her shoulder, relishing the way she jerked and tightened around him in response. He grunted as she pulsed in tiny spasms. “Just like that…Milk my cock. Ah, hell…”

  She climaxed with a cry, the delicate tissues that hugged him tightening into a velvet fist before convulsing in the milking grip he’d demanded of her. Pinning her shoulders, he held her immobile and jackhammered through her orgasm, his own spiraling like molten metal down his spine and pooling in his balls.

  His head fell back on a serrated groan, his body bowing as her pleasure fueled his, enflaming him. Cum spurted from the tip of his cock with a ferocity that rocked him, stinging his eyes and tightening his throat. His straining muscles burned and quaked, his entire body rigid as he emptied himself into the condom.