They’d first met at the club in passing, and again when he’d been turning over a fugitive at the precinct. She’d given herself whiplash that first time, but he’d nodded, drawled, “Mornin’, Officer,” and gone on his way.
Yet every interaction with Jacques had been professional and courteous, unlike many other bounty hunters she’d met who’d sell their own mamma.
“Up.” Jacques patted her back.
“Huh?” She glanced up at him.
“I told you I was going to play that ass of yours today.” He watched her from hooded eyes, his gaze heated.
Now?
In the morning?
It felt taboo. Kink was for the night, to be done in the dark, where the shadows concealed their liaisons.
“I will not tell you again, bébé.” The way he stared at her promised punishment if she didn’t obey. He stroked her hair, and she wanted to lean against him, allow him to do whatever it was he had in mind. “You hear me?”
She gripped the table and the back of the chair, hoisting herself onto wobbly legs.
The man had a voice for sin.
Jacques kept his hand at the small of her back, guiding her to stand between two supporting beams that marked the edge of the area designated as the kitchen. The rivets had been removed from a few places, and chains hung from the holes. She’d noticed it in passing the night before, but with everything else going on, it hadn’t seemed important. Now those chains held her complete and utter fascination.
Lust gripped her core, and her already hard nipples went hypersensitive. Even the abrasion of her silky camisole was too much.
Jacques circled around behind her. “Arms up.”
Odalia lifted her arms, stretching for the sky. A tiny flutter of nerves danced in her belly. Playing was the only time she put on makeup or did her hair. Something about the energy made her into a sensual, feminine creature she didn’t get to embody during her shifts. Would he find the disheveled, just-out-of-bed version as appealing?
Jacques placed his hands on the front of her hips, flattening his palms and pulling her flush against his front.
Well, now I know.
She could feel the hard line of his cock against her back.
Jacques slid his hands down her thighs and back up, over her panties. He drew her camisole up as he went, caressing her stomach and ribs, cupping her aching breasts briefly and whisking the fabric up over her head. She curled her hands around his neck, arching her back.
Why had they never acted on this chemistry before?
She let her lids close as he gripped her arms.
“Not yet,” he whispered and kissed her temple.
Jacques took one arm, retrieved a leather cuff hanging from the chains and attached it to her wrist. He did the same with her other arm and adjusted the length of chain with snaps until she had little slack to play with.
She could almost imagine them under the safety of night, where the perceptions faded away and left two beings who merely wanted each other in the most carnal sense. His hands coasted up and down her back, pushing her hair over her shoulders. She hummed and bowed her back, enjoying his caress.
Something about play gave her freedom to be the inner girl she fought every day to protect. For the brief moments she was under someone else’s care, she could be who she was.
Jacques’ touch disappeared, but she could hear the floorboards creak as he shifted to her left. She let her head drop forward and focused on how the cool air kissed her skin. Goose flesh ran up and down her arms and legs. Though he hadn’t asked her to, Odalia spread her legs, and the damp fabric against her pussy caused a shiver to skate up her spine.
The scent of coffee, herbs and leather hung in the air. In fact, the rawhide fragrance was stronger.
He’d bound her like this during their photo shoot, but she’d worn a mask that covered everything, save for her eyes. She’d been a marionette.
And now she’d never see the images.
Odalia pushed the memories from her mind. There was no sense dwelling on anything save this moment. She tilted her head to the side and listened as Jacques crossed the floor again, coming nearer. Something slapped against flesh. A crop? A crop could be both thuddy and stingy. She liked the variety.
Jacques swung something in the air so hard it whistled.
No.
Not a crop.
A flogger.
Odalia smiled and reached above her head for the chains, gripping the cold links.
Bring it on, bayou boy.
The first thwack of the individual leather tails of the flogger hit her across the shoulder blades, knocking her forward onto the balls of her feet. She grunted, but it felt good. Jacques hit her in quick succession, the strikes ranging from her upper back down to her ribs. The thudding sensation was more like a massage than anything else. In fact, she could stand there for an hour or more taking this kind of attention. Each blow licked out soreness, relaxing and easing her muscles into a delicious state of warmth.
The rhythm broke, and for a beat, everything was still.
Odalia sucked in a breath, her stomach dropping, and braced herself a moment too late.
The flogger whistled through the air and snapped her across the shoulder blades, stinging her flesh.
“Ouch,” she yelped, dancing in place.
Jacques chuckled and let the tails rain down on her back in gentle, light caresses.
“Not funny,” she groused.
Okay, it was, but she wasn’t about to give the man an excuse to laugh at her.
“Keep your feet spread.” He swung the flogger and the leather strips curled around her outer thigh on the right, then the left.
She complied with his wish, feeling a little more alert.
“Good girl.”
The flogger swung up between her legs, and she yelped, jumping in place. Not from pain, but surprise.
“Keep those legs spread.” Jacques’ tone was more amused than upset, a contradiction to the quick, stinging slaps of the flogger he delivered to either thigh.
“Okay, okay.” Again she widened her stance.
The next kiss of leather smacked her upper back, fire erupting in its wake as he unleashed the not-so-nice side of the toy. She danced in place, hissing, but kept her feet spread. Up and down her body he went, varying the strength with which he laid into her until she was flinching at the gentle licks and giggling when he popped her ass hard enough to leave a mark.
Endorphins flooded her system, creating a heady rush of adrenaline, lust and oxytocin.
Jacques circled around to her front, his gaze flicking over her body, lingering on her breasts. He swung a brown leather flogger in a swift figure eight. Odalia sucked in a breath and gripped the chains harder. Her shoulders were beginning to ache, but she didn’t want it to end. Not yet. She wanted more.
He flicked the flogger and the leather tails snaked out toward her, gently impacting her chest before sliding down her breasts and stomach. He caught the end of the strips in his hand and again, allowed them to fall softly on her chest, not even hard enough to thud. More like tease.
She arched her back, wanting more on her breasts. Her hypersensitive flesh yearned for more.
Jacques let the flogger dangle from his wrist and closed in on her, cupping her face. She lifted up on tiptoes, still not tall enough to reach him, but begging just the same. He pushed her back down and bent his head, meeting her lips with his.
Odalia gasped as an electric sizzle shot through her veins, more potent than lust or arousal, something different, something new. She leaned forward on the balls of her feet, seeking a deeper connection. He nipped her lower lip and smoothed over the hurt with his tongue, suckling her lip. Warmth pooled in her abdomen.
He shook the flogger off his wrist and stepped in closer. One hand dug into her hair, tilting her head back, while the other delved into her panties, cupping her mound. A thick finger slid between her folds, finding the sensitive bundle of nerves. She gasped, rocking her hips
back and forth. Her body shuddered, tiny electric volts jumping from cell to cell, the synapses vibrating to her skin. She tore her mouth from his, gasping as colors clashed over her vision.
“Amazing,” he muttered. “You came, didn’t you?”
“Uh, yeah. A little,” she gasped, sagging against the restraints.
“I’ll have to remember you come easily.” He removed his hand from her panties.
Odalia peeked at him through her lashes. She did not like the sound of that.
Jacques unclipped the restraints from the chains but kept his thumb through the D-rings. He brought her arms down in front of her, massaging her back and shoulders with his other arm. She leaned forward, placing her cheek against his chest and allowing him to hold her, care for her.
Arousal still sang through her body. She shifted in place, rubbing her thighs together.
It had been a long time since she’d had sex with a play partner, for a variety of reasons. Too many people wanted open relationships, which didn’t jibe with Odalia’s thought process. She was the jealous sort. Those she clicked with wanted a polyamorous relationship, which she wasn’t hardwired to function in, or they had no interest in kink. Not all that long ago, she’d tried to have a normal, D/s, free relationship, and it had ended almost as soon as it had begun.
Odalia almost didn’t even know how to go about the business of asking for sex. Sure, she and Jacques had negotiated to a point, but sex had never been mentioned. Until last night. Did that count as negotiations? God, she hoped it did because she wanted him to fuck her with that big cock.
“I can hear you thinking,” he said, voice low, as if they had to be quiet.
“Yeah? What’s going through my mind?” She tilted her head to the side and peeked up at him.
“Hmm.” He reached between them, cupping her mound again.
Odalia gasped and her eyes rolled back in her head.
“You’re still horny, aren’t you?”
“Yup,” she said, popping the p.
“Good.” Jacques stepped back, leading her toward the bed. “Because I’m going to fuck you until you come three ways from Sunday.”
Odalia shivered and her pussy clenched.
Yes, please.
Jacques guided her to kneel on the mattress, facing the headboard. He produced a chain attached to something below the bed and clipped her cuffs to the end of it. She almost mourned the loss of her hands. Being able to touch him, rake her nails over his shoulders, all of it, would be amazing, but even better was submitting to his command.
She knelt on the mattress and watched Jacques pull his T-shirt off, light pouring through the windows lining his loft. The idea someone could see in hadn’t occurred to her until she glanced over his shoulder into an empty room across the street.
Odalia did enjoy putting on a show.
He unzipped his jeans and shoved the rest of his clothing down, stepping out of his underwear and pants.
Jacques was a big man, in every sense of the word. She shivered, eyeing his cock as he stroked himself from root to tip.
“You can say no, bébé,” he said in a voice so low and rough she knew it was forced.
“You’re right. I can, but I won’t.”
His gaze flashed, and he paced toward the bed, digging his hand into her hair and forcing her back. She moaned into his mouth, seeking more connection.
He climbed on the bed, breaking the connection long enough to rummage in the nightstand, muttering to himself until he retrieved a condom. She grinned, watching him tear it open with his teeth and roll the latex on his hard length.
Odalia twisted to watch over her shoulder as he laid his palms against her back and kissed the places that still stung. Their gazes locked as his tongue flicked over one hurt, soothing it. His hands grasped her panties, pulling them down her hips. She lifted up on her knees, and he slid them off, tossing them over the edge of the bed.
Her heart hammered in her chest as if this were her first time, which was silly. But she savored the surge of nerves, the anticipation and the sense of urgency in her breast.
She spread her knees and planted her hands on the mattress, fisting the sheet to give her something to hold on to.
Jacques positioned himself between her legs, one hand at her hip. She felt the blunt head of his cock at her entrance and sucked in a deep breath. He pushed forward, and she breathed out, forcing herself to relax. He thrust, sinking deeper, his progress eased by how soaked her pussy had become during their play.
“Damn, bébé.”
Jacques withdrew and thrust again. She moaned as delicate flesh stretched around his girth. She’d never been so full before.
“Yeah,” he muttered as his length lodged within her.
Odalia’s inner muscles fluttered, hugging him tight.
He wrapped her locks around his fist, and her pulse jumped to triple time as he pulled her head back. Most men wouldn’t dare fuck her like this, as though they owned her, body and soul, but Jacques was not a man who questioned whether or not he could. He simply did.
Odalia moaned as he began to piston in and out of her, assaulting her sensitized pussy, pushing her forward with force, not gentle care. The roots of her hair prickled with a pleasant, slightly painful sensation as he tugged each time his cock plunged deep.
“Oh, God,” she muttered and dropped to her elbows, seeking a better grasp on the edge of the mattress.
His thrusts grew rougher, his hold on her tighter as she was bent into an almost impossible curve.
She struggled to stave off the tide of orgasm until he’d found pleasure, till his cock pulsed deep within her. Biting her lip, she squeezed her eyes shut.
Jacques circled her waist with his free arm, plunging deep and hard. His fingertips fanned over her mound, brushing the sensitive nerves.
Odalia screamed as the tidal wave of orgasm washed over her, setting off the mother of all explosions behind her eyelids. She was aware of Jacques shouting, of his rough, uneven thrusts. Her body shuddered, spent and weak as he stilled behind her.
For several long moments the only sound was of their labored breathing. Jacques moved first, pulling out of her and flopping on the bed. He unbuckled the cuffs and pulled her over his chest, cradling her.
Odalia cuddled closer, loving the sensual feel of lying naked, spent and used next to someone.
Chapter Three
Jacques scratched Creature behind the ears. The pit bull’s tongue lolled out the side of his mouth. A single lamp chased away the darkness as he waited for his obsession to return to her home. Odalia’s come-hither eyes, the hardships she’d faced and her independence drew him.
Odalia was a woman who challenged him, and Jacques liked a challenge. He did not like having let her down.
The front door banged open, and Creature shot to his feet and across the room, tail and hindquarters wagging. Odalia kicked the door shut and dropped to her knee.
“Hello, did you miss me?” she cooed at the animal. Her hair was up in a severe bun, and the uniform hid the colorful woman underneath. Why had it taken him so long to see her apart from the badge? He’d had a glimpse of what was underneath, and he liked it.
“I know I did.” Jacques smiled and laced his fingers together behind his head.
Odalia’s head jerked up, and she gaped at him. “What are you doing here?”
“You have my Jeep.” Jacques pushed to his feet and strolled through the kitchen and living room. They’d had to scramble to get back to her Jeep, only to find its tires slashed, so he’d given her his keys.
Odalia stood. “You put new tires on my Jeep. How did you get in?”
“Your back window’s loose in the casing. Reached in and unlocked the door. Let myself in.” Jacques invaded her space, and she retreated until her back hit the door. The tough little cop responded to him on a base level, that was for sure. He cupped her face, turning her toward the light. There were no marks, no indication she’d had anything but a typical day.
Thank the Lord.
“That’s breaking and entering,” she whispered, a stern cast to her voice.
“I call it being resourceful.”
He bent and pressed a sweet kiss to her lips, and the hand clenching his heart eased its grip. Odalia pressed closer, a little moan escaping her lips.
“No.” She shook her head and pushed him back.
He lifted his hands and took several steps away from her, the single word a knife to his gut. “Sorry, I thought—”
“Not that kind of no.” She dug in her pocket and shoved a piece of paper at him. “I guess I’m glad you’re here. I was doing paperwork today, and I found that.”
He unfolded the paper.
I’ve seen the pictures, you slut.
“Where did you find this?” He turned the paper over. It was plain white paper, the kind found in any printer in the city.
“In my active files on my desk at the station. The ones I’m sure to look at every fucking day.” Odalia knelt and hugged Creature, who seemed to sense his mistress’ distress.
The sick feeling in the pit of his stomach dropped. It was as he’d feared. “It’s another cop,” he said.
Odalia laid her head against Creature’s back. The dog whined and twisted to sniff at her.
Jacques crouched next to her, hating to press her, but if they were dealing with a cop, it changed the game. “After I finished at the shop, I drove over here. There was a car parked down the street in direct sight with a man in it. He didn’t move, didn’t go anywhere for almost an hour. Do you know anyone who drives an older, blue, four-door sedan?”
Odalia shook her head and stood. “No, not that I can think of. Does it have to be a cop?”
The pain in her gaze, the way her brow furrowed and the corners of her mouth turned down, hurt his heart.
“Let’s think about it. Who would be able to frame Kenny and leave a note in your things in the middle of the station?” It made sense, and he didn’t like it either. The implications that another officer was behind it went against everything his little cop believed in.
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