Dirty Sexy Cuffed (Dirty Sexy #3)

by Carly Phillips

  “Take it easy, Levi.” She gave his arm a friendly squeeze, and though she didn’t mention their date on Sunday, she knew there was no way he’d forget—she could see it in his eyes.

  She walked around the bed and glanced at Clay, then Mason. “It was nice meeting you both.”

  “Same here,” Clay said, then nodded toward Mason. “And I hope this knucklehead didn’t give the two of us a bad first impression.”

  Said knucklehead merely flashed her a charming grin, and she laughed. “No, not at all.” She’d enjoyed watching the three siblings interact.

  “Good.” Clay gave her a warm smile. “I hope we see each other again, hopefully under much more pleasant circumstances next time.”

  She doubted it. “Me, too,” she said politely, though she wasn’t going to be around long enough to have anything more to do with this close-knit family. The thought made her sad, and she rushed out the door before the ever-perceptive Levi could call her on the emotions she knew were shining in her eyes.

  Chapter Three

  Four long days of lying around and resting, and Levi was bored out of his mind. He’d been released from active duty for at least the next two weeks, and because he couldn’t exert himself just yet, he couldn’t even work on the projects around the house that he enjoyed doing on his days off. So, instead, he’d binge-watched movies and television series on Netflix. He was now caught up on all the latest episodes of his favorite shows and had a deeper understanding of the phrase couch potato.

  Since the shooting on Tuesday, he’d had a visitor every day. Wednesday, Nick and a couple of other guys from the station had come over to hang out for a few hours. Thursday, Clay stopped by in the afternoon to make sure he was feeling better. He’d brought a pizza and stayed to watch a few episodes of a show with him, and on Friday, Mason dropped by for the sole purpose of being a general pain in the ass. And of course, to pry about his relationship with Sarah, about which Levi gave his brother nothing to satisfy his burning curiosity.

  By Saturday, all Levi wanted was peace and quiet and no more visitors. Well, that wasn’t completely true. He wouldn’t have turned away Sarah if she’d knocked on his door. But she didn’t know where he lived, and they hadn’t exchanged phone numbers for her to call or text. He could have driven over to Circle K during one of her night shifts—and he’d seriously thought about it—but the last thing he wanted her to think was that he was stalking her, even if he was a cop. He just had to trust that she’d be at the store tomorrow evening at the specified time for him to pick her up for their date.

  And what was up with Sarah being so stubborn about that particular request, anyway? Levi wondered with a frown as he channel-surfed for something to hold his attention on TV. Of course he’d agreed to her terms, but her insistence had only piqued his curiosity and made him determined to find out why she was being so evasive. Just like she’d refused Clay’s offer to drive her home the night at the hospital, which would have been much easier and more convenient than bothering a friend.

  There was so much about Sarah that was a mystery, and granted, that was part of her allure. She was a puzzle to him, an enigma that made him want to know more about her. And that, in itself, was a novelty for him when it came to women. He really wanted to strip away those guarded layers of hers to discover all the secrets he instinctively knew she was keeping from him.

  He didn’t miss the irony of that thought process. He, himself, certainly wasn’t a stranger to holding on to his fair share of secrets. His were dark and nightmarish, thanks to a hellish, violent childhood that had shaped the frightened boy he’d been and had also provided the catalyst for the man he’d become. One who valued control in all aspects of his life, including masking his emotions and rarely letting anyone close. Especially women. Which was why his fascination with Sarah was so damn out of character for him . . . yet it was that same unexplainable fascination that had him pursuing her.

  After flipping through a few more channels, he finally settled on reruns of an old sitcom, but halfway into the show, the doorbell rang. He groaned and dropped his head back against the couch. He really wasn’t in the mood for company, but he couldn’t ignore the person at the door. His truck was in the driveway, so clearly he was inside. If he’d been smart, he would have parked it in the garage to give the appearance of nobody being home.

  Another irritating ding-dong, ding-dong, followed by a firm knock. He swore beneath his breath and moved off the sofa too quickly. A sharp, stabbing pain in his side made him wince, and he pressed his hand to the still-sore spot against his rib cage. Great, he thought irritably, knowing that he’d be dealing with a nagging throb for the next half hour.

  Since he hadn’t been expecting any visitors, he was wearing an old, comfortable pair of sweat pants and a faded T-shirt. His feet were bare, he’d only finger combed his hair this morning after getting up, and he had a layer of scruff on his face since he hadn’t bothered to shave. At least he’d brushed his teeth.

  He reached the door just as another knock sounded, and he frowned when he looked through the peephole and saw three female faces on the other side. What the hell were they doing here? he wondered, though his gut told him that Clay and Mason had sent the trio over to check on him—or torment him. He wasn’t sure which, but what he did know was that his brothers were assholes for sending these three women to his place, especially when he’d made it clear he wanted to be left alone today.

  “We know you’re in there, so open up and let us in.” This from bold and sassy Katrina, who was Mason’s fiancée and the only woman who’d been able to tame Mason’s wild man-whore ways. Next month, the two of them were getting married.

  “We already saw you looking through the peephole, Levi,” Tara added—who was the main bartender at Kincaid’s and now manager of the place since Clay had gotten married. “The gig is up.”

  “I have Clay’s key and I’m not afraid to use it,” came a sugar-sweet threat from Samantha, Clay’s wife and the best thing that had ever happened to Levi’s older brother.

  Knowing he was outnumbered, he finally opened the door. “Did you ladies not get the memo? No visitors allowed today.”

  “Then it’s a good thing we’re family and not visitors,” Samantha said with a pretty smile as she lifted the large plate she was holding so he could see the contents through the plastic wrap. “I brought you my caramel fleur de sel French macaroons.”

  Damn. His mouth immediately watered. Samantha was a phenomenal pastry chef, and her macaroons were amazing. Those little delights were a bribe he couldn’t resist.

  “You may enter.” He stepped back so Samantha could walk inside, then blocked the way again, his gaze taking in the glass dish covered in foil that Katrina was carrying. “What do you have?”

  Katrina, with her purple-tipped blonde hair and an arm covered in colorful butterfly tattoos, flashed him a knowing grin. “Chicken enchiladas, extra cheese.”

  His favorite, of course, and on cue, his stomach growled hungrily. He glanced at Tara, and she automatically lifted a gallon jug of orange juice as her offering, which was his drink of choice.

  “You ladies do not play fair,” he grumbled good-naturedly as he let Katrina and Tara into the house, as well.

  “Every man has a weakness, and we just happen to know yours,” Katrina said as she passed by.

  The delicious scent of Mexican food teased his senses, and he followed the girls into his kitchen, realizing just how ravenous he was. He hadn’t eaten anything since having a late breakfast, which had only been a bowl of cereal, and he was suddenly grateful that they’d brought food with them.

  Samantha set her plate on the counter and shooed him toward the adjoining living room. “You’re supposed to be resting. Go and make yourself comfortable on the couch, and we’ll bring the enchiladas to you.”

  He wanted to argue that he was fine, that despite the occasional pain from the fractured ribs, he was more than capable of taking care of himself, and he could certainly serve
up his own plate. He’d been fending for himself since he was a kid under far more traumatic circumstances, but his sister-in-law was giving him a firm look that clearly stated she was now in charge, and he did what any intelligent man would do. He went and settled himself on the couch, with his legs up on the ottoman, and waited for dinner to come to him.

  He didn’t have to wait long. Ten minutes later, the trio came out of the kitchen, each of them carrying something different. Katrina gave him the plate with the steaming chicken enchiladas, and Tara set a tall glass of orange juice on the side table so it was within reach. Samantha placed the pastries on the coffee table for later, then settled on the sofa next to him, with the other two girls sitting around him, as well.

  As he took a bite of the soft corn tortillas stuffed with savory goodness, he had to admit that having three women fussing over him wasn’t half bad. But it also made him all too aware of the fact that Clay and Mason were lucky enough to have Samantha and Katrina in their lives every day, as their best friends and partners in all things, and he was suddenly the odd man out and feeling more alone than ever.

  He was truly happy for both of his siblings, but he’d definitely noticed a shift in their relationship now that Clay was married and Mason was engaged. He saw his brothers less often and didn’t talk to them as much as before. They were living their new lives, just as they should . . . while he was living the same day-to-day existence. A life that was routine and predictable and safe, just how he liked it.

  He’d always been a loner, and he definitely enjoyed women, but he’d never met one that made him want to share everything with her, including his past, the present, and the future. Because of all the shit he’d been through in his life, that was too much of a vulnerable place for him to venture. Ever. He had too many jagged, broken pieces inside of him, and he couldn’t imagine any woman in her right mind who would take a chance on a lifetime commitment to someone so irreparably damaged. Even if somehow his brothers had managed to find special women, Levi didn’t see the same happy ending for himself.

  While he ate his dinner, the girls asked him questions about the shooting, and because they’d arrived at his place with the best kind of gifts, he regaled them with all the details, until they were all staring at him wide-eyed and in awe. And then they finally got down to the real reason they’d stopped by. To interrogate him about the mysterious woman whom Clay and Mason had met but Levi had remained tight-lipped about.

  “So, tell us about Sarah, the girl you saved,” Samantha said, her blue eyes filled with curiosity.

  Saved was a little dramatic when he’d just been doing his job. “What about her?” Levi responded, being deliberately vague as he finished the last bite of his dinner, then set the plate on the side table.

  “Clay said that she was in your hospital room when he got there with Mason,” Samantha explained as she tucked her legs beneath her on the couch.

  “She was,” he replied, and gave her the most logical explanation. “She wanted to make sure I was okay and rode over to the hospital with me in the ambulance.”

  “Wow, that’s kind of romantic,” Tara said, and while she was the most level-headed of the three, he didn’t miss the teasing glimmer in her gaze that told him she was totally yanking his chain. Such a smartass.

  “It really wasn’t a big deal.” He took a drink of his orange juice, praying that the conversation about Sarah ended. Like, now.

  “Mason told me that when he walked in, you were holding her hand, but she was quick to pull hers away,” Katrina said, and Levi nearly choked on his juice. “He said she had that whole caught-in-the-act look in her eyes, like she was hiding something . . . like the two of you being together.”

  His brother was such a big-mouthed fucker, and now Levi was 99.9% sure that Mason had encouraged Katrina, probably along with Samantha and Tara, to come over to find out the nitty-gritty details.

  Mason was constantly giving Levi shit about his lack of female companionship, but getting laid, when he wanted to, wasn’t an issue for Levi. He was just more discriminate about his extracurricular activities and didn’t broadcast or flaunt his affairs. He always kept them private, therefore Mason thought he was celibate, and compared to his brother’s past exploits—before he’d settled down with Katrina—Levi supposed he was like a monk.

  Samantha picked up the plate with the macaroons and handed them to Levi, and just as he was close to putting one in his mouth, she ruined the moment by asking, “Are you two dating?”

  Goddamn, he really wanted to indulge in one of the light, airy, crème-filled cookies, to have a quiet moment to savor the salted caramel and almond pastry as it melted in his mouth. But all their personal questions were making it impossible for him to enjoy himself.

  Placing the macaroon on top of the others, he put the dessert aside for later, then looked at the trio, who were all waiting anxiously for his answer. “I’m sorry to disappoint all three of you, but no, we’re not dating.” It wasn’t a lie. They weren’t going on an official date until tomorrow night.

  “Oh,” Samantha said in quiet disappointment. “We were just kind of hoping . . .”

  Levi scrubbed a frustrated hand along the stubble on his jaw and narrowed his gaze at his sister-in-law. She couldn’t just say something like that and leave him hanging. “You were hoping what?”

  “That maybe the two of you were an item and we’d get to meet her,” Tara said, answering before Samantha could.

  Seriously? Wasn’t going to happen. In fact, under normal circumstances, Sarah probably never would have met his brothers. That’s just the way it was for him.

  Katrina gave him a pointed look. “You know, in the twelve years that I’ve known you, I’ve never even heard you mention a girlfriend, let alone met one of them.” A small amused smile eased across her lips. “Mason swears you’re still a virgin. Or gay.”

  Levi literally gaped at her. Un-fucking-believable. His brother was such a wise ass. “Well, you can assure him that I’m definitely not gay, and I haven’t been a virgin since my senior year in high school.” And what the hell—was he really defending his sex life to the three women who were like sisters to him?

  “Really?” Katrina’s brows rose in surprise. “In high school, you were so. . .”

  Withdrawn. Introverted. An outsider. As a moody, hormonal teenager with a shit-ton of family issues, being stand-offish had been his only way to maintain control of his emotions. Except there had been an equally moody Goth girl who’d followed him into the bathroom one day while everyone else was in class, pushed him up against the wall, put her hand on his dick, and said, I want you to fuck me.

  It was an offer his cock couldn’t refuse, and even that first time, he’d recognized his need to be the one in control, and those dominant urges had only increased every time they screwed around. There had been nothing emotional about their encounters. They didn’t talk about their lives or share personal things with each other. Hell, he’d only known her name because she’d been in one of his classes. And because their trysts were all about a physical release, she’d let him fuck her however he wanted, however he needed—rough, aggressive, demanding, with her on her knees, or her hands restrained, and him in charge.

  Yeah, he’d picked up on his needs early in life. The situation had worked for the both of them, and after graduation they’d gone their separate ways. And by then, his sexual preferences had been set.

  Levi shook his head of the memory, unable to believe how off track the entire discussion about Sarah had gone and where his thoughts had traveled. He glanced at all three women, desperate to put an end to the subject. “I’m not having this conversation with you guys.”

  Samantha reached out and gently squeezed his arm, her gaze soft and warm and nurturing. “We just want you to be happy.”

  He softened at the heartfelt statement, appreciating the fact that they cared. “I’m perfectly happy,” he said, even as he realized he’d just contradicted his earlier thoughts about feeling left out
and alone now that his brothers were in committed relationships. But being on his own worked for him. The women he was with might enjoy that darker, more dominant side to his personality when it came to sex, but emotionally, he had nothing to offer long term.

  He exhaled a deep breath, suddenly feeling tired and worn out. “Look, Sarah is a friend. Can we leave it at that?”

  Thankfully, all three girls agreed to let it go for now, but he had a feeling that their interest in Sarah wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

  * * *

  Sarah glanced out the glass window from the inside of Circle K as she waited anxiously for a certain hot, gorgeous guy to pick her up for their date. She would have stood outside, but when she’d arrived a few minutes ago, there had been three sketchy-looking guys loitering by the side of the building, and after being held up just a few days ago, she found herself much more suspicious of the people in the area. She felt safer hanging inside with the two cashiers who were working the Sunday night shift.

  She had no idea what kind of car Levi drove, but figured he’d pull up to the mart and see her standing inside. As minutes passed, she grew more anxious—a combination of nerves and anticipation swirling like a dozen butterflies set free in her stomach. It had been a long time since she’d been on a date with a man. Even with Dylan, he’d never taken her out somewhere nice with romantic intentions, and once they’d arrived at Sacrosanct, she’d been locked inside the compound, and her life for those three weeks had changed drastically, until she’d finally escaped.

  She still wasn’t sure if it had been a smart idea to say yes to Levi, but she’d told herself a dozen times that one evening with him wouldn’t hurt. She’d been living a lonely, solitary life the past five weeks—being holed up in her shitty motel room during the day and venturing out in the evenings to work. Was it so wrong of her to want to enjoy a night of easy conversation with Levi, along with the flirting and the attraction that made her feel sexy and desired?