Thirty minutes after leaving Police Headquarters, Heath pulled into London’s driveway. He noted the blue hatchback parked out on the street. Mercy’s car?
Seattle was blessed with long summer days, and nearing the end of August, the sun didn’t set until around eight. Usually people made the most of the extra daylight, but he noticed the curtains had been pulled. Maybe London wanted to shut out the outside world?
His knock on her front door was answered by the school teacher. Wearing jeans, a dark t-shirt and strands of red, yellow, and orange colored beads around her neck, Mercy’s long blonde hair was up in one of those messy buns like London wore. Heath glanced down at her yellow sneakers and had to smile. The cute little teacher had a sense of fun that would appeal to London. And obviously worked on Aidan, too.
“Hey, Heath.” Her welcoming smile seemed tempered by the worry lining her forehead. “London just sat down on the sofa in the living room. She’s finally taking a break from her Facebook and twitter feeds.” Mercy gave a small smile as she stepped back to give Heath entry. “I bribed her with a strawberry margarita.”
Heath squeezed the woman’s shoulder. “Thanks for being here with her.”
“I’m not sure if I’ve helped much, but it was better she had company. The girls have all called her to check in. Harper and Cleo have to work tonight, and Jinx has a charity event she’s helped organize or else they’d be here.” The teacher led the way into the first doorway on the left.
London was sitting on a flower patterned sofa, her head back and eyes closed. She was still wearing the same jeans and black sneakers, but had changed out her black top for a green t-shirt that hugged her figure in a way Heath couldn’t miss. In front of her was a low cherry wood coffee table with a couple of magazines and a tall glass filled with what must be the margarita mix.
“Look who’s here,” Mercy announced.
London opened her eyes, and Heath had to hide his frustration at the tiredness he saw in her green gaze.
“Hey, you.” London offered a soft smile.
Emotionally exhausted but happy to see him. Heath let out a breath.
“Red.” He sat beside her and leaned in to give her a kiss on the mouth.
“I’ll give you guys a few minutes. Aidan’s expecting me to call.” Mercy walked toward a large open doorway, which led to a formal dining room and then into the kitchen. “Heath, how about a beer?”
“That’d be great, thanks, luv.” Turning back toward London, he gently grasped her hand in his and gave a gentle squeeze. “Taking a break from the internet?”
She grimaced. “I think Mercy was about to confiscate my laptop.”
Another reason for Heath to like the sweet blonde.
“My readers and a bunch of my author buddies made posts stating the facts and basically daring anyone to cause drama.” She lifted her free hand and shoved a strand of hair behind her ear. “The chatter calmed down some soon after.” She turned side-on, her body curving into the sofa and studied him, their joined hands resting on her thighs. Lifting up her other hand, she ran the back of her knuckles over his jaw. “I was bitchy to you on the phone earlier. I’m sorry.”
Heath turned his head to kiss her fingers. “I’m sure I can find a way for you to make it up to me.”
She chuckled. “This could be dangerous. Care to share some of those ways?
He grinned. “Maybe I’ll keep you in suspense?”
And if the twinkle in her gaze was any indication, it looked like her mind was occupied with something else other than today’s drama.
Mercy rejoined them and handed Heath an icy cold beer and held a margarita for herself. She sat in one of the two yellow and white striped wingback chairs and sipped her drink. “Mmm, that hits the spot.”
London smiled as she pulled her hand free from Heath and leaned over to pick up her glass off the coffee table. “Thanks for keeping me company this afternoon.”
“No problem. I’m enjoying the last of my summer break. I have just over a week before I go back to prepare my classroom for the new school year.”
“Is Aidan coming over?” Heath asked.
“Yep, and he’s bringing Chinese,” Mercy answered just as Heath’s phone rang.
He glanced at the caller ID. “Adam.”
“Where are you?” Adam asked, his tone urgent.
Heath tensed in readiness. “At London’s. Why?”
“Turn on the TV.” Adam named the local station’s news program.
Heath knew better than to waste seconds asking more questions. He turned to London. “Honey, turn on your TV.” Heath named the specific station.
“That’s the station that filmed me last night.” She clicked the remote control.
A few seconds later, a shot of London’s house appeared on the screen with a news van outside and a reporter looking back toward the house.
An unseen female’s voice came over the footage.
“For more news on this developing story, we head to our man at the scene, Kemp Douglas.”
The reporter outside London’s house nodded and spoke into a microphone bearing the signage of the station. “As you stated, Carly, local teen romance author, London Shaw, was taken in for questioning today by Seattle Police over the death of bestselling thriller author, Henry Banks.”
“Fuck.” Heath almost growled into the phone.
“That’s…” Mercy blinked. “Holy shit.”
“We can confirm Ms. Shaw was released without charge, and Seattle PD has stated she is no longer a suspect.”
“Oh. My. God.” London stared at the screen, her mouth open, eyes wide. She turned her shocked face to Heath. “What’s happening?”
“Here’s our exclusive footage from Ms. Shaw’s book signing last night. Our station is involved in a documentary on local authors and captured this event as part of that series.”
Film showing London at The Next Chapter filled the screen. She was talking to Henry, when he came up to her the second and last time that evening.
“Here are Ms. Shaw and Henry Banks, having what looks like a tense conversation. We have no audio, so we can only guess what was said.”
The broadcast switched back to the reporter in front of the house.
“Much speculation has taken place by readers and those in the publishing industry as to how a pen engraved with her name came to be used as the murder weapon.”
“I’ll be there in fifteen,” Adam said. “Prepare London for an evac. Either my place or yours. Choose by the time I get there.”
“Mine. I’ll call a cruiser to make sure we aren’t followed.” Heath ended the call as a knock sounded on the front door.
“Don’t answer that,” he instructed Mercy as he switched off the TV. Turning to London, he pulled her up from the lounge. “Red, I need you to pack. Enough for a few days.”
“Ms. Shaw, we know you’re inside,” a muffled voice said from the other side of the front door. “If you speak with us, we can guarantee you’ll get your story out there.”
“Pack? Where am I going?” London looked toward the door, her attention torn.
“My place. You can’t stay here.” He gripped her arms and leaned in close. “London, you’ve got a news crew outside your house, ready to stir up shit. They aren’t leaving. So we are.” With each of his words, he watched her face lose its wide-eyed shock and turn to weary resignation. “You with me on this, Red?”
“I’m with you,” she whispered, and looked over at Mercy. “Can you help me gather up my things?”
“You bet. I’ll call Aidan, too.” Mercy jumped into action as, together, the two women scurried from the room.
Heath called and organized a cruiser to run interference for them when Adam arrived. Then Derek called, having seen the newscast, and arranged to meet them at Heath’s house.
Adam and Seth arrived as promised, and between Heath and his brothers, they did their best to screen London and Mercy as they ran from the back door of London’s house and into the Explorer with its dark tinted windows.
The shouts from the reporter went ignored as Heath shoved a large duffel bag along with London’s laptop into his SUV.
Heath nodded his thanks to a couple of uniformed officers, friends who’d parked their patrol car behind the news van, blocking them in. Another patrol car joined the end of their mini convoy of Adam’s explorer and Heath’s SUV as they drove around the neighborhood, making sure there was no tail before Adam used the remote control to Heath’s garage and guided his vehicle straight inside. A connecting door from the garage to Heath’s house ensured nobody would see London exit the vehicle even if they had managed to follow behind the cops, which they hadn’t.
Heath parked in his driveway of his Craftsman bungalow and spoke to the two uniform cops, friends Heath had known for years. They would do a sweep of London’s house in an hour and let Aidan know when it was safe for Mercy to pick up her car.
After handshakes, the cops departed and Heath let himself in via the garage. Walking through the laundry room, he found Adam, Derek, Seth and Mercy in the kitchen and watched London as she moved aimlessly into his living room.
Her blank expression and slumped shoulders screamed she was lost, and not because this was her first time at his house and she wasn’t sure of the layout.
He needed to take care of his woman.
Heath shoved the duffle at Seth. “My room, bro.” Then he strode to London and gathered her in his arms.
London gave him her weight, pressing the side of her face into his chest and wrapping her arms around his waist.
No shudders. So not crying. That was good. Right now, she needed to catch her breath and allow this latest craziness to pass.
“Red, look at me.” He waited for her to comply before capturing her mouth in a kiss. He was gentle, wanting to soothe her. Slowly, he broke their kiss, all his alpha instincts on fire at the way she cuddled into him.
“Here’s the game plan. We’re going to order even more Chinese food, enjoy the company of family and friends, and let them distract you from all the world’s dramas for an hour or so.”
She studied him with, it had to be said, skepticism in her eyes. “You seem to have a lot of faith in that plan.”
“Yeah, and you know why?”
She shook her head.
“It’s my job to make everything okay for you, and I’m not going to fuck that up.”
He saw her swallow, saw the wetness fill in her eyes and, dammit, felt his world shift underneath him.
This was why some men went to war over a woman. Not because of greed or possessiveness, but the need to eradicate any threats so that nothing fucking ever harmed a hair on her head. And he would keep fighting to protect her until the moment he took his last breath.
She straightened and blinked away her tears. “You can’t say that kind of awesome shit to me right now. That kind of awesome shit has to wait for when we don’t have people around to witness my guaranteed ugly cry.”
“Is that right?” He grinned, admiring the hell out of her for gathering up the tattered remains of her control.
“Yes, and I’m talking seriously ugly, with nose dribble, hiccupping sobs, and a blotchy face that lasts for hours.” She let Heath steer her back toward the kitchen. “If you don’t believe me, ask Derek.”
“Ask me what?” her brother said from where he sat on a stool on the opposite side of Heath’s pine kitchen counter.
“That she ugly cries,” Heath answered.
Derek accepted a beer from Seth and nodded his thanks. “Man, you have no freaking idea. Snot. Loud sobbing. Yelling at everyone not to look at her. And that was just the other week watching of re-run of some biker’s woman dying in a TV show.”
London gasped. “It wasn’t just some woman, you philistine. It was Tara. Jax’s world went to pieces.” She swung to face Heath, her gaze imploring as she outlined her defense. “We’re talking Sons of Anarchy. And Jax isn’t just some guy. He’s all about epic bad boy/antihero sexiness, and Tara was his soul mate.”
“Damn straight.” Mercy said from her perch on the stool next to Derek.
As an officer of the law, Heath’s dealings with bikers held little in common with bad boy/antihero sexiness and more to do with hardened criminals, but he wasn’t about to debate the point.
He glanced over Mercy’s head and through the glass sliding doors. The tall green hedge behind his back deck provided a backdrop to Adam as he talked to someone on his phone.
To Mercy he said, “Honey, you think you could call Aidan and add to that takeout order?”
“Already done.” An easy smile played at the corners of her mouth as Seth handed her a glass of white wine. “He’ll be here soon.”
“In the meantime, can I get you a drink, luv?” Seth asked London as he opened Heath’s fridge. “We’ve got wine, soda, beer, juice or chilled water.”
“I’ll have some wine, thanks.” London walked around the kitchen counter and sat on the remaining stool next to Mercy. She glanced between Seth and Heath. “During the drive here, Adam said he once knee-capped a terrorist masquerading as a reporter. You guys think I could ask him to do the same here or would that be pushing the friendship?”
Heath studied London and caught the hint of desperation in her gaze not fully camouflaged by her smile. Putting her game face on.
Right at that moment, as a mixture of heartfelt pride and searing admiration warred for prominence, he knew he was falling for the little writer. How deep he had no idea. But London was his, and by all that was fucking holy, he was going to make things okay, just as he’d promised.
****
London glanced between Heath and Seth. Had she pulled it off? Being glib was usually easy for her. After all, hadn’t she and her hunky detective traded one-liners every time they were together? Except, the full totality of today’s events had stretched her coping mechanisms to straining point.
Tonight when she’d turned on the TV…
Her belly rolled at the memory, pitching a wave of bile up her throat. A tremor raced through her. She clenched her hands to hide any possible shake. Oh God, she wanted to run and hide and just…just block out the world for a few hours.
But then she caught dark blue eyes studying her. Heath. If she ran, he’d worry. The man was taking his role as her protector seriously, wanting to give her a sense of normalcy after the earlier turmoil.
Must not let him down.
As Seth handed her a glass of wine, she held her nerve.
Tonight she refused to be the needy girl sitting in the corner. At least…not with everyone here to see.
“So,” she sipped her wine and concentrated on the taste, the freshness lifting her mood a tad. “What are my chances of convincing Adam to torture another reporter?”
“I’d say excellent.” Seth grinned, and London let her body relax. The big Aussie with the wavy, dark blond hair leaned his forearms on the counter. “Adam would only have to glare, and Kemp fucking Douglas would wet his pants like a preschooler.”
“I’ve got to say, Adam’s, uh…zeal”—‘Blood thirsty enjoyment’ was another term that would fit—“for that particular job was sobering.” London guessed the commando was letting her know he wasn’t a big fan of reporters in a show of sympathy, which was sweet in principle. However, she normally drew the line at crippling her enemies.
Not that she’d had many enemies in her life and certainly not ones she’d had to confront nose-to-nose, per se. London used words, wit and canniness to get her revenge. Knee-capping was the kind of on-the-job skill most authors never mastered.
On the other hand, if she ever had any research questions involving special ops and all things military, she now knew who to approach.
Mercy glanced over her shoulder at Adam, who was still on his call but looking back toward the kitchen. “I wonder if he’d consider talking to some of the kids I work with at the Youth Center.” She turned back. “Not about the kneecapping of people. I meant more channeling his energies into something good. In fact,” Mercy glanced between Heath and Seth. “You guys have overcome obstacles to make yourselves successful. Maybe you’d all like to come and meet the kids sometime.”
“SPD works with a number of youth clubs, and I’ve volunteered through the programs in the past.” Heath moved to the fridge and got himself a beer, then came to stand beside London. “Aidan can give you my email address. Send me some information. I’ll forward it on to my brothers.” He sipped his beer. “No promises, but we’ll take a look.”
Mercy’s eyes lit up. “That would be awesome.”
London felt a smile tug at her lips. Heath covered all the bases for hero material in any romance she could write. Rescuer of women facing a media frenzy, a great kisser, and he’d volunteered with youth programs. The man’s good points were piling up.
The swooshing sound of the sliding door opening caught everyone’s attention. Adam slid his phone into the clip on his belt as he entered. “Had to take that call. Business.”
She’d have to be blind not to notice the look exchanged by all the men and that it wasn’t shared with her and Mercy. No problem. She’d had enough intrigue for one day, thanks.
Derek got up from his seat, headed to the fridge, and glanced back to Adam. “Beer?”
“Thanks.” The big Aussie, still dressed in the same black clothing he’d worn earlier today, walked the couple of steps to London. “You take a deep breath yet?”
She stared into unusual gray eyes flecked with gold. Adam’s compelling stare had her answering before she knew otherwise. “Yeah, a couple.”
“Good.” He accepted a bottle of beer from Derek, but kept his focus on her. She tried to not fidget under the intense scrutiny. “You’ve had a crap day. But you have good people who’ll work to get to the bottom of what’s gone on.” His normally gruff manner gentled to something close to coaxing. “Give yourself a break for a few hours, London. The world will still be here in the morning, but this time, you’ll be prepared and have back-up.”
Adam left her there, speechless, as he walked around to the other side of the counter. Clearly well-versed on the layout of Heath’s kitchen, he opened up a cupboard and pulled out a large white plastic bowl. Then he reached into the pantry and grabbed a large bag of chips.
Seth muttered to Adam, “You’re going to ruin your reputation as a hard arse with such flagrant displays of compassion.”
“Seth’s right.” Heath slung an arm over London’s shoulder. “That was a genuine moment you shared with London, bro.”
Adam glanced first at Seth. “Fuck you.” Then to Heath. “And fuck you.” He emptied the chips into the bowl. “And I genuinely mean that.”
Far from daunted, his brothers threw back their heads and laughed. Derek and Mercy joined in, and a second later, she found herself doing the same.
They only stopped when a knock sounded on Heath’s front door.
A minute later, Heath reentered the kitchen, along with Aidan who carried two bulging white plastic bags.
“What have I missed?” Aidan asked as he placed the bags on the kitchen counter and then kissed Mercy.
“The Justice brothers showing they are just like us and communicate their deep feelings by ribbing each other mercilessly,” Derek offered.
Aidan reached over and tugged a strand of London’s hair. “How else would a family show they care?”
The next two hours proved Heath and Adam right. Once she laughed, the heavy thoughts of her day were pushed back to the edge of her mind, allowing her to relax and enjoy the evening.
Making the most of Heath’s fabulous back deck and outdoor seating, they loaded the teak table with food and drink and spent a healthy portion of the evening teasing the heck out of each other. London had to hand it to the three Justice men. Their dry Aussie humor had set the mood for a fun night.
By the time she and Heath waved goodnight to everyone, London felt like she’d smoothed out some of the wrinkles that had disrupted her peace of mind.
Heath locked the front door and led her from the wide foyer into the hallway and then through the doorway on her right and into the living room. “How about a glass of wine and we’ll listen to some music or watch a movie.”
London glanced around the room, noticing for the first time the enormous leather couches strewn with cream and russet patterned cushions inviting a person to rest, and the leadlight chandelier in hues of deep yellow, olive green and cream. The room was gorgeous, and at any other time, she’d want to study all the details at leisure.
However, for now, that would have to wait.
She was calling in a marker.
“I want you to make everything okay.”
Heath lifted a brow. “Looked like you were enjoying yourself sitting on my back deck, Red.”
“I was.” She stepped closer, now only a foot apart and—oh my—that familiar flutter of pleasure, when his height and muscled physique filled her senses and made her feel so feminine, danced over her shoulders and down to sink low and deep between her legs. “But last night, when you introduced me to how you…play, I felt so free, totally caught up in the moment.” She let out a long breath. “I want to forget everything and only think about us, together, and you…” Don’t give in now. “…taking complete control of me.”
Heath swept his gaze over her face. “Are you sure? What you’re suggesting may be too much after the day you’ve had.”
He was being cautious. Understandable considering her day had been the pits. But she’d never been surer in her life. “You made me a promise. Don’t make me beg.”
One moment, he was a foot away, the next, she was hauled against him. He twisted a handful of her hair around his hand and tugged. Hard enough that it burned at the base of each follicle.
He…she blinked…he’d man-handled her. There was no other word for it. A hot thrill of pleasure shot through her body.
She loved the raw dirtiness of this harder, rougher touch.
He dipped his head and whispered close to her ear. “Red, you’re definitely going to beg.”
She felt him draw her arms behind her, felt a cool pressure on her wrist, and the next moment, the distinct ratchet-like click of one handcuff and then another sounded. She tugged her arms, but she was caught.
Arousal swept through her, raising her pulse. She tugged again, but the steel bands held her firmly. This was really happening. Her gaze traveled from the tanned skin not hidden by Heath’s open-necked shirt, up the column of his throat and then higher, over the strong line of his jaw to his smoldering blue-eyed gaze.
His unrelenting confidence as he studied her stole the air from her lungs.
“What’s your safe word?” His voice rang with iron-hard command.
“Dentist,” she whispered.
Heath released her hair and gripped her upper arm. “That’s right, Red.” He scooped her up in his arms and carried her from the living room, down the main hallway, to a doorway on the left. “Remember you have the power to use it if you feel the need.”
“Okay.” Though she hoped she wouldn’t need to. Whatever happened next would be based on her letting go. And she so wanted to embrace that sense of freedom.
They entered a room painted in navy and decorated with heavy wood furniture. A man’s room. A seascape painting hung over a low king-sized bed. The rich timbered headboard had wooden slats, perfect for bondage.
Heath lowered her to her feet. “Steady?”
She nodded when she got her balance.
He moved behind her, and seconds later, one cuff came off.
What? London glanced over her shoulder.
“Remove your top and bra.” When she took a second to take in his command, he threatened, “Unless you want me to rip them off.”
“Uh, no.” She rushed to obey, the dangling cuff getting snagged in the arm of her t-shirt, but she yanked it free. Next was her white bra. She bundled both items of clothing in her hands. “Where should I…?”
He took them from her and dropped them on a chair in front of the long side window. “Now the rest.”
She toed off her sneakers and slipped out of her jeans and panties, handing them to Heath. They joined her other garments on the chair.
Heath flicked his head toward the dresser behind her. “Turn around.” She did so, and he re-cuffed her arms behind her. Moving to sit on the end of his bed, he pulled her to stand between his legs, facing him, and tapped the side of her leg. “Move your feet shoulder-width apart.” She inched her feet outward. “Good girl.”
Air caressed her damp pussy. She was cuffed, naked and exposed. And so very vulnerable to whatever Heath wanted.
Her desire grew, now hungrier. Would he make her beg as he’d threatened?
“Your skin’s so pale, Red.” He smoothed his hands up her sides then over her ribs before cupping her breasts. His fingers skimmed over her pebbled nipples, dragging against them. She jolted. “When you get excited, your skin flushes with pink, like now.” He cupped her breasts and gently squeezed. “I like that. Means you can’t hide your reaction.” With the faintest pressure, he brushed his thumbs over her nipples and smiled at her shiver.
Heath slid an arm around her waist, flattening her arms to her back and stealing more of her free movement. His hand gripped her hip, both a sign of his possession and to keep her in place.
She curled her toes in the fawn colored carpet as his other hand moved lower, over her bottom and down her leg. Then up again, sliding across her inner thigh and higher, over the edge of her pussy and to the skin above her clit. The tiny bundle of nerves pulsed as heat raced through her. Would he touch her there? She so wanted to ask but didn’t dare.
His fingers inched closer, making swirling patterns over her skin. Then closer still, skimming the wetness of her pussy lips before gliding over her clit, and pulling back the hood.
She gasped at the rough, hot sensation. Her breathing grew faster, shallower. She pressed her lips together, covering her moan as he teased her clit, stroking the tight bundle of nerves one second, then barely touching her the next.
“But it’s the freckles on your chest that intrigue me the most.” His warm breath caressed her breasts. “Here.” He kissed a few on a spot above her right nipple. “And here.” Another kiss, this one on the top of her left breast. “And right”—he licked the edge of her areola—“here.” He captured her nipple between his lips and sucked as he sank two fingers inside her.
“Oooh,” she moaned, letting her head fall back as Heath twisted his fingers, rubbing the sensitive walls of her inner core. In and out, he glided his touch over her g-spot with just enough pressure to keep her hanging on a hook of desperate need. Ripples of pleasure consumed her, building to a peak and nearly threatening to take her legs out from under her. Only Heath’s arm against her lower back and his hand up on her hip kept her upright.
“How long do you think I can keep you on the edge, Red?” He swirled his fingers inside her, firing off another tremor deep inside. “Ten minutes?” Another swirl and another. “Fifteen?” The pad of his fingers rubbed right there. “Maybe an hour?”
Fuck. Surely she’d collapse first? “Heath, please, I’ll beg. In fact, I’m begging now.” She didn’t give a damn. “I’m not ques—” She held her breath on another swirl of his dark, erotic torment. “Questioning that you are the boss.”
“I never thought you were, London,” he said in an infuriatingly reasonable tone.
She glanced down, but there was no smugness in his handsome face.
“This is another lesson in my dominance and your submission.” His voice deepened. “And the pleasure you feel when you’re absolutely”—he stroked her clit with his thumb as, deep inside her, his fingers glided over her g-spot, sending yet another burst of sweet heat—“fucking”—another thumb flick—“helpless.”
He pumped his fingers inside her, her body jolting from the force. She stood there, head back, mouth open, unable to think as the muscles in her core drew tight, the pressure building. Any second now.
“Look at me, London,” he commanded.
She dropped her head forward and forced herself to focus on him.
And then there was nothing else but his face with those intense blue eyes and his fingers pumping and swirling inside her, holding her on the very edge of sweet oblivion with such masterful skill of a kind she’d never before encountered.
This was his dominance and her submission.
“Ple-e-e-ese,” she whispered.
Heath smiled. “Now you understand.”
He curled his fingers and rubbed her g-spot. Six, seven times, until her world exploded, firing brilliant colors of ecstasy, one shuddering burst after another, from her core then outward, radiating like a shower of pleasure-filled golden embers.
Slowly, Heath lessened his strokes until the breath-stealing shudders faded to quivers that fluttered along the walls of her core.
Satisfaction sang through her body, leaving her giddy but not spent. She wanted to feel his length inside her. Filling and stretching her. Making her writhe under him as he had last night.
Heath gripped her hips and guided her back two steps as he stood.
Then, with his larger body holding her in place, he kissed her, claiming her mouth with devastating confidence that she was powerless to resist.
Ending their kiss, Heath held her securely in his arms. “I wanted to have your lips around my cock.” He lifted her in his arms. “But I can’t wait to be inside you. Maybe later.”
Dropping one knee onto the bed, he sat her on the mattress. From a drawer in his dresser, he removed a second pair of cuffs. Releasing her wrists from behind her, he then cuffed them in front. After easing her down so her head was on his pillow, he used the second pair of cuffs to secure her wrists to one of the sturdy wooden slats of the headboard. Dropping the keys to the cuffs on the nightstand, he said, “You okay? Cuffs not too tight?”
London settled back against the pillow, testing this new position. “I’m okay.”
Heath kissed her forehead and then rose. He undressed quickly and grabbed a condom from his wallet. In seconds, he was sheathed.
London loved studying his muscled body, but he didn’t give her much time to appreciate those broad shoulders and wide chest before he was moving up beside the bed and shaking his head.
“No, I don’t think so.” He grabbed the keys to the cuffs and unlocked the second pair of handcuffs from the wooden slat before pulling her into a sitting position, her hands still cuffed in front of her. “I want you on your knees. Lean on your forearms.”
A fluttery feeling filled her belly. She did his bidding, her bottom up in the air to keep her balance, but then froze as another possibility entered her head. “Er, you’re not going to…” How did she say this politely? “…I mean, I’m not into anal.”
Understanding flickered in Heath’s gaze as he remained beside the bed. “Babe, that won’t happen until after a long talk and much preparation.” He climbed behind her, his thighs brushing against her legs and backside.
Her face burned. “Right. Sure.” She faced the sheets, holding herself stiff in her pose. God, what an idiot. “Of course.”
Her hair was pulled, forcing her to look over her shoulder. Heath’s face didn’t hold anger, or frustration. He seemed more…determined. “Never be embarrassed about asking questions, especially when you’re nervous.”
“Okay.” What could she say? He was right, of course. After all, it was her body.
She turned to face the pillow, and felt another delicious frisson of excitement as Heath’s hands ran from her bottom up over the arch of her spine and to her shoulders. The action forced him to lean over her, pressing his erection against her lower back. Back and forth he stroked his wide hands over her skin, warming her for more of his touch. She closed her eyes and leaned onto her forearms. Gradually, her muscles loosened, and she leaned back a little of her weight against his thighs.
“That’s it, Red.” His hands moved from her back to her chest, cupping her breasts and rolling her nipples.
She groaned, dropping her head and watching his tanned hands against her fair skin. The full weight of her breasts hanging down added to the pressure as he pinched her now pebbled and tingling nipples. A path of arousal traveled through her veins, inflaming her once more for his touch—and his dominance.
Without thinking, she went to move her arms and the hard steel restraints held her in check, the metal clinking in protest. Her clit pulsed at the reminder of her captivity.
“Easy to forget when there’s distractions, hey, Red?” Heath traced a finger down the curve of her hip. “Cuffs are convenient, but I’d like to see you in rope.” His hand moved to her belly, and lower, way lower, to her pussy. “Coils of dark rope on your skin, tying you down and open so I can take you anytime I’d like.” He teased her clit with his finger in short fast strokes, building the sensation until the muscles in her thighs started quaking.
“Oooooh.” Her head hung down, her hair blinding her as her heart beat wildly. She drew ever nearer to the point of release. Another minute. No more.
Heath wrapped his arm around her waist. “How’d you like that? I’d eat you out, have you come into my mouth.”
“Oh, fuck, yes,” she wailed.
Heath entered her in one driving thrust and didn’t stop.
She gasped, but had no time to adjust to his abrupt invasion. The forceful way he claimed her was a flame to her powder keg of need as he ground his cock over heightened nerve endings. Ripples grew to shudders. Muscles tightened. Breathing became harder.
“Yes,” she screamed, pressing her bottom frantically against him and shifting her knees wider, taking him deeper inside her. Desperate for more, she clawed at the bedcovers.
Heath chuckled. “Such a hungry girl.”
She wanted to growl, to bite, but he angled his cock to scrape over her g-spot. That was her undoing. She cried out with unabashed abandon as hot waves of bliss rolled through her with wickedly sensual devastation.
The muscles of her core gripped Heath’s cock, making his every stroke a firestorm of delight for her tender flesh.
But Heath was far from done. His rhythmic pushes grew shorter, more frantic. “Jesus, Red,” he ground out, “You test a man’s control.” The last words were a tortured groan as his body shook against her. His hardness pulsed with his release as the sound of his harsh groan of masculine satisfaction filled her ears.
Heath pulled out of her and rolled to his side, gently taking her with him, her back pressed to his front. He wrapped his arms around her, and together, their ragged breathing slowly returned to normal.
She turned at the feel of his stubble-covered chin rubbing her shoulder. Meeting his watchful study, she leaned in and pressed her mouth to his. Their kiss seemed to last forever, until Heath pulled away, reluctance clear in his gaze.
“I need to clean up.”
She gave him a lopsided grin. “We both do.”
“Then let’s do our bit for the environment and share a shower.” He reached over her for the key on the nightstand and undid her cuffs.
“I like your thinking.”
Heath raised his brows. “So you agree with me that order and method are superior over chaos and anarchy?”
“Pffft.” She rolled off the bed and headed to the open door of his master bathroom. “You know exactly what I meant, Detective.” She’d just cleared the doorway when Heath lightly spanked her bottom.
She whirled around, her hands clasping her backside. “What?”
“Thought I’d try acting on impulse for once.” His devilish smile did little to add credibility to his explanation.
Shaking her head, she went about getting herself cleaned up under the shower, which necessitated Heath using his fingers and tongue to get her somewhat…dirty all over again.
Fifteen fully satisfying minutes later, they were both lying on Heath’s blue patterned bedding. As he pulled the sheets and blankets over them, London snuggled against him.
Held loosely in his embrace, her head resting on his chest, she gave a contended sigh.
“Thank you.”
There was a pause before Heath spoke. “What for?”
“You held true to your word. You made everything okay.” She rubbed her check against the fine dusting of springy hair on his chest.
“Anytime, Red.” He tightened his arms around her and gave her a squeeze. “For you, anytime.”
And she believed him.
In just over a week, this man had swept into her life, challenged her opinions, made her laugh, and gave her the best sex of her life. And today, when her world had turned upside down, Heath was her rock. Even though she loved her family and knew she was loved in return, it was Heath’s company she craved, his safe embrace and protection.
Did they have a future together? How could she say just yet? But today’s catastrophes had moved her feelings for Heath well beyond curiosity and attraction into something bordering a far deeper connection.
Tomorrow would bring what it might, but tonight she was with Heath, and everything was okay.