Man Cuffed

by Sarina Bowen

  And then—thank you universe—he lowers his mouth to exactly where I need him, licking my nipple. I shiver, and not from the cool air on my skin.

  He plays me like an instrument, and I bite my lip to keep from moaning. Maybe he’d like to hear it, but I need to at least try to hold myself back. I run my hand through his thick hair, coasting further to the slope of his neck. God, Maguire looks sexy like this, bent over in service to my pleasure. Just as I’m about to say “the other one,” he’s already beat me to it by putting his warm, firm mouth on my other breast, licking and sucking, inhaling me, as if he can’t get enough.

  And neither can I. I’m close to begging, dammit. To shut myself up, I tug on his chin, until that wicked mouth is on mine again. And we are kissing as if there’s no tomorrow, because right now, there isn’t. It’s my turn to unbutton his shirt. I want it off him, preferably yesterday. But as I unbutton his uniform shirt, it’s just occurring to me that I can’t undress him without help. He’s wearing a heavy service belt and a gun, for fuck’s sake. That’s way above my pay grade.

  Sensing my distress, Mac straightens up and winks at me. He opens several attaching loops on his belt, tossing them onto my countertop. Then he unclips his entire duty belt and carries it over to my refrigerator, where he lays it out of reach. “For safety’s sake, I need to ask you not to touch this.”

  “I won’t,” I say quickly.

  “Good girl,” he whispers, rejoining me where I stand half naked and waiting for him. “That’s the only thing you can’t touch, though.”

  “Good to know,” I whisper back, blinking up at him.

  He takes my hands in his and places them on his shirt. “Better get started, then.”

  Right! I recommence unbuttoning him. And goddamn! His chest is glorious. I’d noticed before, of course, but it’s even better when he’s up close and personal. He has the perfect amount of hair on his chest, and his muscles flex when I touch him. “You really could be a stripper, you know,” I tease.

  He kisses me. Hard. Then I almost swallow my tongue as his pants come off. He kicks off his socks, then drops his boxer briefs, too. Then he’s standing there in front of me, his cock hard and proud.

  I don’t even think before I take him in hand. Thinking is so last season. We’re way past that. His cock pulses in my hand, and then he’s kissing my neck and my tits while I tease his cock with my hand. I give him a gentle squeeze, eliciting a sexy as fuck groan from him.

  “Christ.” He grabs my hand by the wrist. “What did I say about speeding? You’re doing ninety in a fifty-five.”

  “I’m sorry, Officer. It won’t happen again.”

  “Make sure of it.” He puts those big hands on my shoulders and turns me around. When he speaks again, I feel his breath on the back of my neck. “I want this to last, Trouble.”

  Is it because it’s the first time or the only time? I’m not going to ask. Not right now, anyway. Because Maguire has unbuttoned my denim skirt. It falls to the floor, and then he pulls me against him and I can feel his hard cock up lined against my ass. He presses the length against me, and I lean back a little. His hands are skimming my body, cupping my heavy breasts. I bow my head, and he sucks gently on the back of my neck.

  This is why vampires are fucking sexy. I get it now!

  Maguire doesn’t draw blood of course. He probably won’t even leave a mark. But I wish he would. I wish he’d mark me and claim me as his. And I’d claim him back.

  But I’ll take what I can get. And what I get is a hard cock against my ass, his hands on my tits, his tongue turning me into a puddle. And then one of his naughty hands slides down, invading my panties. I have never felt so much anticipation as when his hand dips lower. That clever hand fights the fabric and wins, until his thick fingers begin to circle my clit. I am warm and wet and waiting for him.

  “Fuck, Meg,” he breathes against my neck. “You’re so hot and sweet.”

  I moan at just the idea, turning a little so that I can kiss him while he works my clit. But his thumb is not enough. A groan of frustration escapes me.

  “Shh,” he says. “I got you.” Then, whoosh! My panties drop away. He whirls me around again, shoving everything on my counter aside. The moanies, some bills, and a jar of peanut butter. The peanut butter actually falls off.

  Whatever. Who cares. Because he lifts me up, my bare ass hitting the counter. And I’m naked and sitting in front of Maguire, who’s also naked. There’s a breeze from the door to the deck, and it brushes sweetly against my overheated body.

  “Holy shit,” Mac says, breathing heavy.

  “Holy shit,” I agree. We’re really doing this. It’s going to end badly, probably. But he’s looking at me like I’m breakfast, lunch, and dinner. And then he puts both those roughened hands on my thighs, silently asking permission.

  I don’t even think. I just spread my legs.

  18 A Five-Alarm Fire

  Maguire

  I’m breaking all my rules tonight, and I don’t know if I care. I’m too busy kissing my way down Meg’s body and licking her smooth skin. Pausing to nuzzle her smooth stomach, I give myself one last chance to reconsider.

  I live right next door. I shouldn’t do this.

  On the other hand, we’re either about to have sex, or else spontaneously combust. Honestly, it’s a public safety issue at this point. Either we do the deed, or the dispatcher is going to be sending units to a five-alarm fire.

  Easy choice, then.

  I lower my mouth and brush my lips across her mound. My reward is a hot gasp, followed by an eager cry. Her hands are in my hair, and they’re shaking. The musky scent of her beckons. I flatten my tongue against her clit and she moans with gratitude. Goddamn. If I’m honest, I’ve wanted to do this since the first night I ever saw her.

  My knees meet the floor as I settle in to worship her. Her breath hitches, then hitches again. There is nothing like making a woman mad with desire. I love the rush it gives me. I feel so powerful when I’m giving pleasure.

  But Meg has a lot of power in this situation, too. She has beautiful long legs, and now they wrap around my body. She draws me in as I taste and tease her. A few minutes pass—or is it more? I lose track of time as I taste her. My cock is hard as a rail, but I enjoy teasing us both. She rolls her hips toward me, looking for release.

  “Not yet,” I whisper, easing back.

  “You’re mean,” she complains as I rise to my feet.

  “So mean,” I agree, snagging my trousers off the floor and fishing the wallet out of the back pocket. I pull out the condom that I keep there. A man has to be prepared.

  “Hurry,” she says.

  But I don’t. If I’m going to break all my rules, I’m going to enjoy it. I unroll the condom while she watches hungrily. Then I take her pretty face in my hand and kiss her again.

  “Oh,” she moans against my tongue. “Now.”

  “Now what?” I rumble, sloppily kissing her cheek. Then sucking on her ear.

  She shivers. “Now fuck me. Please.”

  “Well, since you said please.” I spread her knees a little roughly, and she pants with anticipation. God, the sight of her is almost too much. I like a woman who knows what she wants. And Meg’s face is half desire, half challenge. Like she can’t wait to see what I’m going to do next.

  Never one to let a lady down, I take myself in hand and line up. Then I pump my hips and enter her in one quick thrust.

  “Yes!” She leans back on the counter and gasps, bracing herself for more.

  But I have to pause and take in a slow breath. My heart is racing. I love sex, and I’m good at it. But tonight I feel a little wild. A little out of control. It’s been a long time since I let myself get so carried away.

  I reach an arm around her back and tighten our connection. It’s shocking how perfectly we fit together. Like a well-made lock.

  “Mac,” she breathes. “Please.”

  My own groan startles me. And then I’m moving. Taking her in short
, shallow thrusts. Her ankles link behind my ass and she yanks me closer on every one. Our mouths fuse. Our chests meet and slide together. It’s hot and tight and amazing. I have the weirdest sensation that I’ve never been so close to anyone before in my life.

  The short range of motion is just enough to torture us both. “I could do this all night, I think,” I murmur to Meg. “There’s no reason to ever stop.” I always talk during sex, which is weird because I’m not much of a talker at other times.

  Meg makes a happy noise that might or might not be “yes” and “more.”

  “Knew we’d be hot together,” I rumble. “Can’t wait to hear you come on my cock.”

  She whimpers and then gasps. And fuck me, Meg must have taken that to be a command. Because she bites my shoulder and moans so sweetly that goosebumps rise up on my back. Then I feel her shiver as her perfect body clenches around me.

  And maybe I don’t have all night after all. Because the sweet sound of her climax tightens my balls. “Fuck, Meg.” I wrap my arms around her and lift her up.

  Her limbs clasp around my body as I stagger toward the bedroom. She moans into my ear, and I’m desperate now. Somehow I find the bed and lower us both to the surface. It might be awkward. I don’t even care. All I know is that I’m on top of her now, sinking into her again, kissing her like it’s my sworn duty.

  “Can you do that again?” I mumble against her lips. “Never heard anything sexier.” I roll my hips. I’m practically drowning in pleasure.

  “M-maybe,” she gasps. “If anyone can pull it off, it’s you.”

  Oh, hell. A challenge. I take both her hands and lift them over her head. “Fine. Just do as I say. Got that?”

  She whimpers in reply.

  I let go of her hands, and raise myself off her body a few inches. “Put your hands on your tits. Yeah. Like that. Pinch your nipples.” She gasps as she does it.

  Rolling back a little further, I tug her hips up until her legs fall open. “Aw, yeah. Just like that, baby. Never seen anything so hot.”

  She looks up at me then, her eyes bright. “Same. Here,” she whispers as I pick up the pace. “We’re in trouble now.”

  I know she’s right. I just don’t care very much right now. I dive down for another blazing kiss. And it’s more than I can really stand. “Come now, baby,” I beg. “You make me crazy and I can’t hold back.”

  Truer words were never spoken. The moment she wraps her arms around me again, I feel my control slip. Then she moans, and I’m done like dinner. The orgasm hits me with a hurricane force. All I can do is hold on and roar my approval.

  Her body tightens against mine, and she shudders deliciously beneath me. And then I slump down onto the bed, spent. Breathing hard.

  Nobody says anything for a long time. But eventually my brain comes back online. Reluctantly I roll off of her and onto my back, still needing more oxygen. “What are you thinking about?” I ask when I can finally draw breath.

  “Only happy thoughts,” she says slowly. “Oh, and I’m wondering if the Hemingway Daiquiris are still good, or if they got too watery.”

  “I know a way we could find out.” I slap her hip. “I think you promised me a drink.”

  “Sure, but I was only trying to get you into my bed.”

  I glance around. “Seems like that worked. Now get this tired man a drink.”

  “Yes, sir,” she says cheekily before getting up to do just that.

  I lay flat on my back and wait. I should be worrying right now. And beating myself up for breaking all my rules. But I’m too blissed out.

  Worrying can wait.

  It’s the sunlight that wakes me up, a stretch of it spilling over my eyelids. Man, I slept great. I haven’t slept this good in…

  I bolt upright. Where. The. Fuck. Am. I? This is not my room. This is Meg’s room.

  The last thing I remember is moanies, then fucking Meg and both of us moaning, and then we were going to have a Hemingway Daiquiri.

  What happened after the daiquiri? I must have had too much to drink. I must have blacked out.

  Then it occurs to me. Nothing happened after the daiquiri. I didn’t even drink it. I was intoxicated only by very, very good sex. And I fucking fell asleep.

  Which means I’ve broken not one, but two of my signature rules. Thou shalt not fuck thy neighbor. Thou shalt not sleep over with any of your fuck buddies.

  Although I’ve been a little squishy about that second rule lately.

  Also, thinking of Meg as my fuck buddy just doesn’t sit right in my gut. We’re also friends, dammit. That oughtta be another rule for my rulebook: thou shalt not fuck thy cute friends. That way lies the kingdom of awkwardville. Man, what was I thinking?

  Oh right. I wasn’t.

  And now isn’t the time to ponder it either. Because I seem to be alone, which means I have an opportunity to get the fuck out of here. Even though my clothes are scattered around Meg’s apartment, I still manage to dress faster than a fireman who has to go out on a call. I can’t seem to spot my boxer briefs so I guess I’m going commando. I yank on my shirt, grab my belt, and am ready to hightail it out of the apartment. I hope Meg is at work, sparing me the awkward morning-after conversation.

  But no luck. Just as I’m ready to lunge for the door, Meg steps back into the apartment from the deck, a watering can in her hands. “Morning,” she says as I clutch my shoes like they’re a life preserver. “Looks like you’re at a level ten freak-out. That was fast. I thought you’d maybe just hover at a level eight.”

  I stand a little taller. Mentally cooling it all down. “Nah,” I lie. “I’m totally a two.”

  She blinks. Then she takes a step closer, squints, and really examines me. It doesn’t matter that I’m already wearing clothes, because I feel as though I’m standing here naked. I can’t seem to lie to this woman. It’s more than that. I can’t seem to keep quiet around this woman. And keeping quiet is kind of my MO. “Fine,” I say, dropping the shoes and shrugging. “I’m at a level eleven freak-out.”

  And what does she do? She fucking laughs! “Copper, you need to chill out. Did you have fun last night?”

  “Well, duh.”

  She takes a step closer. “Did you like letting go for once?”

  I try to nod, but mostly I just gulp. Memories of last night flood my poor little brain. Meg’s hands in my hair as I kneel in the kitchen. The weight of Meg in my arms as I carry her to the bedroom. The feel of her underneath me as I thrust into her...

  “Don’t you want to do it again?”

  Unfortunately, I don’t have any words right now. All my words have flown out the window, leaving more space for my dick. My dick is now at an eleven too.

  “Look,” she says. “You can freak-out if you need to. I’ll let you carry your shoes out that door. It’s your call. But the genie isn’t going back into the bottle, Mac. I know your libido has a souped-up engine. I’m familiar with your best work...” She crosses her smooth arms.

  “...Basically, I see two choices. You can go home and we can be awkward and embarrassed and avoid each other. You can pretend not to notice me when I’m out on the deck. You can pretend not to spot my lacy underwear when we run into each other in the laundry room.”

  My throat goes dry just remembering the sight of her in lingerie.

  “Or...” She pauses here and suddenly I notice she’s wearing a flowered robe that hugs all her curves. I’m pretty sure she’s naked under there. “Or,” she repeats, “we can just skip to the part where you admit what you want.”

  Yup, this woman has my number. She has me all figured out. And now I feel like an ass, because she’s a hundred percent right. “Look, Meg, I’m sorry.” Immediately her face shutters, because of my poor choice of words. “No. I’m sorry I had a freak-out when there was no reason for one.”

  “Last night I asked you what Hemingway would do.” She hugs herself a little. “That man broke a lot of hearts. So it’s not like I expected a marriage proposal over coffee.”
/>
  A sharp bark of laughter escapes me. “You’re too smart for your own good. Did you know that?”

  She rolls her deep brown eyes.

  “Confession time. Is it terrible that I’m wondering if you’re naked under that robe?”

  “Hmm.” Her arms remain locked around her midriff. “Is it terrible that I’m hoping you’ll find out? But you’d have to put your shoes and your belt down first.”

  I glance down and see myself as Meg sees me. A fucking coward, with his shoes in his hands. I set everything down on the floor and then turn to her again. “Am I crazy, or did you say something about coffee?”

  “Sure I did. I was about to make some.”

  “Can I trouble you for a mug? I somehow forgot to have that fruity drink with you last night.”

  She snorts. “You were passed out like a baby in my bed, Copper. I’ll bet Hemingway could go all night.”

  “Is that a challenge, Trouble? Did you just question my manhood?”

  She shrugs. “Take it however you will.”

  “Yeah, okay.” I take a step forward and gently ease the fabric of her robe over her shoulder. She drops her arms, revealing only bare skin underneath the robe. I can’t help myself. I have to drop my lips to the sleek curve of her neck where it meets her shoulder. When my mouth meets the warmth of her skin, I groan into the kiss.

  I hear a low chuckle as her hands skim down my biceps.

  “I just got played, didn’t I?” I ask her shoulder. And then her breast. Because I forgot how to stop touching her sometime last night. And it’s not clear that I’ll ever remember.

  “A little,” she admits.

  “Totally worth it. Unbutton my shirt. Again.”

  She laughs.

  I guess some of my rules need adjusting. Right now, I want Meg more than I can possibly understand. So I just let my body take over.

  And it is fucking good.

  19 Mmm Bacon

  Meg