Uncuffed

by Dare, Michelle

  “As your girlfriend?” she says in a high-pitched voice.

  I chuckle. “Whatever you’d like to call it.”

  She stands quickly. “I’m no one’s girlfriend. Ever.”

  “You can call yourself whatever you want, just know that you’re mine.”

  She levels me with a hard stare. “We’re back to that?”

  “Seems so.” She shakes her head and leaves the bedroom. I stand to follow her through the house to the kitchen. “How about this instead? I’m yours. Only yours. Is that better?”

  She slams the lid on top of the coffee maker. “No, it’s not better. I don’t want to be owned, and I certainly don’t want to own anyone else.”

  “Good God, who fucking cares? I don’t care what title you give us. Just come home with me. I won’t call you mine or pull any of my other bullshit. I want to have dinner with you. I want you in my bed tonight. I want to wake up with you tomorrow morning. Say yes.”

  “Don’t you get it?” she yells. “Nothing between us will ever be normal! We’re from two different worlds. I’ve done shit, a lot of shit, and I don’t even fucking regret it. What does that tell you about me?”

  “That you were desperate. That even after you lost your parents, you still had a lot of shit to work through, and you did it the only way you knew how. And no, I don’t want to fucking know all the details. My point is, we all have pasts. I want you in the present. I’m not asking for a lifelong commitment. One night. Then we take it from there.” She sighs and for a moment, contemplates what I said.

  “One night and I’m driving myself.”

  “Fine, if that’s what it takes to make you feel better. I don’t want to trap you, Hope. I only want to spend time with you.”

  Eleven hours later and a long-ass day of work, I pull into my driveway. There’s a black Ducati XDiavel S parked there. I assume it’s Hope’s. She told me in the past she used to have a Harley. And this seems more like her than the silver Accord I saw at her house.

  I understand she doesn’t want to feel trapped or tied down, but it’s such a fight even to get her to my house, and I can’t figure out why. Yes, she has a past, and I was honest when I said I didn’t want to know it. The truth is, I don’t want to have to arrest her. I don’t want to put cuffs on her wrists, not even in a sexual way. I live that life every day, the last thing I want to do is handcuff someone I’m sleeping with. No, Hope needs to stay uncuffed.

  I uphold the law every day. I fight to keep our streets clean and criminals behind bars. But she was just a teenager who was starving and had no food. That causes people to do desperate things. Things I can’t even imagine because I’ve never been in that position, and I hope never to be.

  With my car shut off and keys in hand, I walk to the back of the house. Hope doesn’t have a key. I offered her one and she wouldn’t take it. Instead, we agreed to meet here at a certain time. It was the only way I could get her here. On her terms or ones that she agreed to. She wouldn’t ride with me.

  She’s sitting on my back-deck stairs when I round the corner. Her faded jeans are ripped at the knees, her hair is braided down her back. Her black t-shirt showing off the curves of her breasts, but not so tight that it molds to her skin. She looks good enough to eat. In fact, I stop in front of her and take her hand in mine to lift her to her feet. Then I kiss her softly as my fingers open her jeans and push them down her hips.

  She breaks our kiss and smiles. “Don’t you have neighbors?”

  “I do, but none that can see a fucking thing. Now, spread your legs and turn around. Bend over and grip the railing.”

  She does so without reservation. I drop to the ground behind her, spreading her wider, then drag a path with my tongue from her clit to her ass. So fucking good. Thank God for the thick trees and shrubs that surround my backyard.

  I only want to tease her before I sink deep inside. Standing again, I unfasten my jeans and have myself buried inside her in a matter of seconds. She cries out as I moan loudly. I bend over her back, cradling her body. Loving the way her silky skin feels pressed to mine.

  “I’ve been waiting all day to be in this pussy,” I whisper in her ear. My hand snakes around her front to find her clit and starts playing with her. “This warm, wet, sweet pussy of yours.”

  “Oh, God.”

  I pound into her. There’s no taking it slow this time. We are going fast as hell. I work her clit and have her screaming in minutes. A few more deep thrusts and I’m following her over the edge.

  We’re panting, half naked, and sated. And how amazing is that? I never thought I’d find a woman I wanted to be buried in more than once. One I wanted to have sex with no condom on. But now that she’s here and this has happened, there’s no going back. I want her for as long as I can have her. I’ve been with many women, and none come close to comparing to her.

  I pull out slowly, the evidence of our encounter sliding out with me. I strip off my button-down shirt and my undershirt, which I use to clean her off.

  She dresses and turns to me. “Undershirts have a whole new use now.”

  I grin. “I better wear one every time I’m around you. You never know when we might need it.”

  She smiles. “Very true.”

  Bending down, I pick up the backpack she brought and unlock the door. With her stuff stored safely inside, I don’t give her a chance to sit down. I grip her hand in mine and pull her back outside.

  “We’re going to dinner.” She raises an eyebrow. “No more bars or diners. This is an actual nice restaurant.”

  “Nice? I only have jeans with me.”

  “Okay, nice was the wrong word. More rustic and charming. What you’re wearing is fine.”

  We jump on my Harley and in fifteen minutes are sitting down at a table with menus in hand. It pays to know the owners. I can usually skip the wait and get seated right away.

  The place is an old inn that serves some of the best barbecue I’ve ever had. Very casual atmosphere with wooden tables and chairs. No tablecloths. No candles. Windows everywhere to let in light and creaky floor boards below that are polished and shiny. There’s a bar in the front and about four different rooms where diners eat. Oh, and it’s always packed. Luckily, we got a table near the bar and can watch one of the televisions they have mounted above. Although, tonight I keep finding my eyes drifting back to Hope. Nothing is as captivating as her.

  Our food is ordered and we’re talking and laughing. It’s nice to be able to do this. To build a relationship with someone I care about. And I do care about her. Do I love her? Not yet, but I can see myself getting there. She’s like no one I’ve ever met. The stories she tells, the way she’s so animated when she talks, fuck, she’s finally opening up to me. She’s relaxing and being more like herself. Not some fake person she’s pretending to be. I love seeing this side of her.

  The waitress comes by to drop off our food. I’m one bite into my burger when a man walks past our table, stops, then comes back. He looks Hope over and his eyes go wide.

  “I know you,” he says to her.

  She appears a little panicked. Her hands shake as she sets her napkin down on the table. Her eyes dart from the guy to me and back. “I think you have me mistaken for someone else.”

  “How do you not remember me? We slept together a month or so ago.” He’s not quiet at all. People are starting to turn to watch us. I need to get this guy away from our table. He’s obviously making Hope uncomfortable.

  I stand and the guy turns to me. It’s then I realize he’s one of the men I interviewed who had their money stolen by that female thief. I don’t acknowledge the fact, simply try to usher him away. “I think you have her confused with someone else,” I say. “Now if you’d move on, we’d like to enjoy our dinner.”

  “I know you, too!” he exclaims. “You took my statement. Is it a conspiracy? Are you in on it, too?” What the fuck?

  “No!”

  “You need to arrest her!” he yells.

  “Whoa, slow d
own, man. I won’t be arresting anyone tonight.”

  “She’s the one. I know it!” Then he turns to her. “Riele, you don’t remember me? You stole my fucking money, you bitch!” He lunges toward her and she scoots her chair back just in time. I grip his arm to keep him from coming in contact with her.

  “This isn’t the same woman,” I say. “I’ve seen the police sketch from your description. She looks nothing like her. And my date’s name is Ashlyn, not Riele.” Yes, I’m aware I used her other name, but there is a reason she didn’t initially tell me her real name, and with the scene playing out in front of us, I go with my gut and decide to use her other name.

  The guy turns to me. “No, she’s not an exact match, but I’d know that mouth anywhere. It was wrapped around my dick quite a few times.” He smirks. Holy fuck, this guy. There are kids eating here.

  “That’s enough!” I bellow. “You don’t get to come to this restaurant, to my table, and disrespect my date, who by the way, isn’t the same woman you’re after. This is a family restaurant and you need to go.” By this time, the owner has come out of the back and stands nearby. I nod before ushering the guy out. I forget his fucking name. Nor do I care at the moment.

  I pull him toward the door and close it behind me once we’re outside. I look him square in the eyes. “You either remove yourself from this property or I’ll call my buddies to do it for me. But I’ll be damned if you’re going to fuck up my date any further or continue to cause a scene.”

  “Don’t you see it?” the guy pleads.

  “No, I don’t, and I’ve studied that sketch and others. I’ve combed over so much video footage my eyes have crossed. And I can tell you, for certain, my date is not that woman.” In truth, I don’t see the resemblance so I’m not lying. A lot of women’s lips look the same so if that’s all he’s going off of, it’s not much. “Besides, she was with me the times you stated the other woman was keeping you company. We’ve been dating for months.”

  His eyes about bug out of his head. “No shit.” I nod. “I’m sorry. I caught a quick glance of her as I walked by and thought it was her. She looks so much like Riele. Sure, her hair is different and so is her nose. Plus Riele didn’t have tattoos. Okay, maybe it’s not her.” He casts his eyes toward the ground and scratches the back of his neck.

  I shake my head. “Believe me, it’s not. She was with me that whole time. I’d know if my girlfriend was out at night fucking other men when she was supposed to be in bed with me.” More lies, but I need to give Hope the benefit of the doubt. Believe me, though, I will be talking to her about this.

  Chapter Eleven

  Hope

  Once Rowe came back inside, I had our food boxed up and the bill paid. I’m so embarrassed I want to climb under the table and hide. He looks me over, sees the Styrofoam containers in a bag on the table and nods. Thankfully, I don’t have to say anything. With my hand in his, we are out the door in under a minute.

  We don’t talk on the way back to his house. Thank God the drag pipes on his Harley are loud. It would be difficult to carry on a conversation. With the bag of our dinner in one hand, I wrap my other arm around his waist and sit close. I feel like I’m holding my breath the entire ride. My nerves are going crazy, my hands are shaking, and a severe panic attack has taken hold of me. I can’t jump on my bike when we get back. He knows where I live. He knows my real name and two of my aliases now. There is no hiding.

  He parks the Harley inside the garage. We both dismount and place our helmets on the seat. Instead of running, I follow him inside the house and take a seat at his kitchen table.

  He places the food in the refrigerator and turns to me. “Anything you’d like to tell me?” I shake my head and look at my feet. “I told him we’ve been dating and no way could you have been the same woman who stole his money.”

  My head snaps up and my eyes go wide. “Why did you do that?”

  “Because this guy sleeps around. He couldn’t have recognized a woman by her lips alone.” If he only knew. I was on my knees before him. I did have my lips wrapped around his dick. But everything else on me was fake. And he was a shitty fuck. All about himself. Nothing would have stood out to him, though. For him to remember my lips…I must have been giving him an amazing blowjob.

  “You don’t know me well enough to do something like that. You don’t know what I’ve done or what I’m capable of.”

  “You think I don’t know you?”

  “You don’t!” I shout as I stand, anger flowing through my veins. “You think you do, but you don’t!”

  He steps in close and places his hand over my heart. The warmth of his palm radiates through my shirt, deep into my skin. “I’ve seen many sides of you in the brief time we’ve been together. And I know deep down in my soul that you’re a good person. If you’ve drifted off that path once or twice, it was for a reason. At heart, you are kind, loving, and the sexiest woman I’ve ever known.”

  “You might think all of that, but the truth would knock you back on your ass. It would have you hauling me off to jail in no time.” I’m so tired of not letting anyone in. I’m moments away from spilling everything, but then I remember I’ll put him in a bad position, and I can’t do that.

  “I told you I didn’t care about your past. I only care what happens from this day forward.”

  “That’s not how things work. As much as we may want to erase what happened yesterday, last week, or even last year, we can’t. We just fucking can’t.” No matter how much I wish I led a different life, so I could feel worthy of Rowe’s attention and not like the scum on his shoe for all the crimes I’ve committed, it’s not my reality. I’m a criminal, and he’s the law. There is no grey area.

  He sighs and takes my hands in his. I knew I shouldn’t have come here. I should have stayed home and kept my distance from him.

  “Did you recognize that man?” he asks. I’m surprised it’s taken him this long. Maybe the cop side of him is finally kicking in and getting him thinking like the detective he is.

  I shake my head. Lying is easier. Lying keeps me out of jail and him from getting in trouble if he decides not to arrest me. And right now, I want to keep him out of any possible shit he’d be in by being associated with me. I need to put him first. He has to stay on good terms with his department. Imagine what would happen if the community found out he was dating a criminal. All those people who have trusted not only him, but his father and his brother. No, I can’t do that to them. I won’t ruin an entire family’s reputation with my criminal lifestyle.

  Turning, I break our contact, his arms dropping to his sides as I push past him but feel his eyes on me. It’s one of those gazes I don’t need to see to know it’s there. It’s searing my very skin.

  “Where are you going?” he asks.

  “To bed.” Luckily, I remember where his bedroom is.

  “It’s early.”

  I turn around and shrug. “I’m tired.” I can’t sit here and continue talking with him. The more I say, the more problems could rain down on him. The less he knows, the better.

  He follows behind me, stopping me with an arm around my waist before I reach the bed. “Are you okay?” he asks from right beside my ear, his breath tickling my skin, sending goose bumps across my flesh.

  “I’m fine,” I reply, trying to get him to move past this. Not that I expect him to. If he did, then he wouldn’t be a very good detective. It’s his job to question people and search for clues. Right now, I’m sure he’s trying to figure out if I’m lying or if it was truly a coincidence. Or maybe he wants to know to fulfill his curiosity. Then again, he could want to continue to see me as someone who is good and wouldn’t steal from anyone. Too bad that’s not me.

  When Jason stopped at our table, I swear all the blood left my face. I felt cold all over, thinking that at any moment, it was all going to be over. I was going to be handcuffed and hauled off to jail. After so many years of not getting caught, it was finally going to end. Yet, I wasn’t. There are no c
uffs on me, and the detective is currently kissing along my neck.

  I’m not in the mood for sex, but maybe if we fool around, then he’ll drop it. I also need to formulate a plan to get out of here without him following me. He needs to stay here and remain the person everyone knows he is. He needs to continue protecting his community.

  We had sex for hours. I had more orgasms than I can remember having in my life in such a short period. No one has ever made me feel the way Rowe did. No one ever took such care of me. Wanting me to come first. And to make sure my needs were met. It wasn’t just the physical aspect either. The emotion, which flooded me every time he gazed into my eyes, made tears build and my throat tighten. It wasn’t just sex now that I think about it. It was so much more. He was making love to me, and I don’t deserve to be loved by anyone as amazing as him.

  I didn’t dare sleep. If I did, I would have been in a quiet slumber for hours. When Rowe’s body is wrapped around mine, I melt in to him. Every part of me relaxes and doesn’t want to move.

  He rolled away from me about an hour ago. I have to make sure he’s in a deep sleep before I attempt to leave the bed and gather my belongings. If he wakes, there’s no way I can get away. And each day with him is another one where I could be caught. Being in this town, where people I’ve stolen from live, is dangerous and stupid.

  When he hasn’t moved for a solid fifteen minutes, I slowly slip out of bed. Each step I take, I watch him. Any noise and I freeze in my tracks. He doesn’t stir. Not when I gather my clothes, not when I leave the room, and not when I grab the rest of my stuff and slip out of the house. I don’t start my Ducati until I’m out of the driveway and down the street a bit. The exhaust on it is nowhere close to being as loud and throaty as his Harley, but it still creates a low rumble. A rumble which could easily rouse Rowe from his deep slumber.

  The drive back to my house is long. In the middle of the night, it seems to go on forever. There aren’t many cars on the road. Nothing to look at but the pavement passing beneath my tires. I have to be more alert at night. Deer can jump out. Also, it doesn’t take something big for my tire to hit and launch me into the air.