Hot in Handcuffs

by Day, Sylvia; Black, Shayla; Walker, Shiloh

  “Two years ago, I’d convinced myself that you were a naïve girl who couldn’t cope with my life or wants. You’ve proven to me that you’re a hell of a woman, Lucia. I’m proud of you. There’s no way I’m letting you get away this time. I love you. You’ll only get rid of me if you tell me that you can never love me in return.”

  Lucia gasped, blinked. Really? Seriously? She probably looked foolish, standing there with her mouth agape, but Jon had just said…“You love me?”

  He cocked his head, and a smile played at the corners of his mouth. “You’re a smart girl. Put together the clues. What do you think?”

  Her mind raced. “You don’t live far from here, do you?”

  His smile told her that she was catching on. “Not far at all.”

  “You could have just gone home, instead of coming here to see me.”

  He planted his palms on either side of her head against the door and leaned in. He eyed her towel like it was the most offensive piece of fabric he’d ever seen. “Exactly.”

  “If your cohorts let you go at the same time they released me…you’ve had time to think about this.”

  “Absolutely. And plan a speech…with a few other surprises.”

  A speech that started with dropping the “L bomb.” He’d done some thinking about this. What other surprises could he have in store? “I’m guessing that you don’t make a habit of telling women you love them.”

  Jon raised a brow at her. “Try never.”

  “Ever?”

  He shook his head. “Not once. Doc, you make me remember not to look at the world through such jaded eyes. With you around, I see everything differently, and it’s a wonderful place again. For the first time in years, I’ve got something to look forward to. I’ve got hope. For that alone I could love you, but you’re also an amazing woman…” He stared at her. “So are you going to break my heart and send me packing?”

  God, he couldn’t tell how she felt? Maybe he needed reassuring, just as she did. The thought was a little endearing. “I’m not going to send you packing. I love you, Jon. And I’ve never said those words, either.”

  He smiled with his whole face—his whole heart—and even in the shadowy hall, she could see love warming his dark eyes. He cupped her cheek, then lowered his mouth to hers for a sweet, lingering kiss. Joy suffused her, spreading through her like sunlit heat after a long winter. That was probably cheesy and too poetic, but for her, so true. She rubbed her cheek against his and wound her arms around his neck, drawing in that masculine scent of him that was both a comfort and a turn-on.

  He kissed her jaw, her nose, her lips one last time. “That makes me really happy, pet. I can’t wait to get deep inside you again and show you how much…just as soon as we address your assumptions and your smart mouth. Drop the towel.”

  Lucia felt her eyes flare wide and her breath catch. “If I do, I’ll be…Oh, you want me naked.”

  He raised a dark, expectant brow at her.

  “Sir,” she added, unwrapping the towel and letting it drop to the floor.

  With a dangerous grin, Jon picked it up and tossed it behind him, onto a nearby chair. She stood completely bare under his relentless gaze, a cool, air-conditioned breeze drifting over her skin, making her nipples harden. Just his rapt gaze traveling all over her made her wet. Without a word, the silent seconds ticked by until she felt achy, aroused, and ready. She shifted from one foot to the other, then back again, trying to ease the need.

  “Hold still,” he demanded.

  “I’ve got this ache…” She grimaced, trying not to move.

  “That I just want to make bigger until you get incredibly wet, beg me to fuck you, then scream my name and claw my back as I satisfy you.”

  The ache behind Lucia’s clit swelled and throbbed at his words. She sucked in a breath. Pretty please…she wanted to whimper. Instead, she stayed still and ate him up with a hungry stare.

  He dragged a thumb across her mouth. “I can’t wait to feel whatever promise is lurking in your eyes. But first, I’ve got three questions for you, Doc.”

  She couldn’t help it; she licked at his thumb. “Yes, Sir.”

  He gripped her chin and sent her a solemn stare. “Are you willing to remove your great-grandmother’s locket, if I give you something equally meaningful and stunning?”

  Her heart stuttered, then chugged in a crazy rhythm. If he meant to give her a symbol of their bond, she was sure her long-dead ancestor would approve. With shaking hands, she reached up and removed the vintage locket. Jon held out his hand, and she set it in the middle of his palm. Carefully, he put it in his trouser pocket, then withdrew a little blue box with the words TIFFANY & CO. on the front and gripped it.

  “We don’t have witnesses, but this isn’t any less binding, Doc.” He cupped her cheek and looked into her eyes. “Lucia Rose, will you wear this for me always as a symbol of your promise to honor and obey me, as I care for and cherish you through all our days?”

  It took her a moment to process his request. “You’re…asking me to wear your collar?”

  “Yes. I’m asking you to be exclusively mine. This is sacred in the BDSM community.”

  Even if she hadn’t read about it, she could hear the gravity in his voice. “I know.”

  “I’ve never done this. I’ve never wanted to. But you changed everything for me. Will you wear this?”

  Lucia bit her lip. Everything she knew about the lifestyle was from fiction. This man had been gentle with her so far, but he had depths he hadn’t shown her yet. A darker side. She felt it, but he’d kept a tight leash on it last night. If she agreed, someday he would spank and flog her, cuff her to his bed and use her in whatever way he wished. He might do any one of a million things that played into her fantasies. And she couldn’t lie; it scared her a little. But deep in her soul, she craved the sort of Master who would care for her. And Jon was offering her everything she could have ever hoped for. Even at his delicious, commanding best, he would see to her safety and pleasure. He would make everything good for her.

  Besides, she wasn’t ready to let him go. If this was the way he wanted to continue their relationship, she wouldn’t turn him down.

  With her heart racing and joy bursting, she nodded. “I’d love to.”

  “Kneel, pet.”

  Slowly, there in the narrow hall with Jon’s voice and scent surrounding her, Lucia got to her knees, naked before him. She bowed her head.

  He stroked her hair softly, filtering her curls through his fingers just before he fastened something cool and heavy around her neck. “Perfect. I look forward to keeping, protecting, and loving you.” Then he guided her to her feet, opened the bathroom door, and flipped the light on so that she could see the platinum chain with the dangling, diamond-encrusted heart nestled in the hollow of her throat, with a little lock right in the middle.

  A smile curled up her lips into something happy. “It’s beautiful.”

  “That’s a twenty-four/seven mark of my possession, pet. Don’t take it off without permission.”

  She wouldn’t want it any other way. “Yes, Sir. I mean, Master.”

  Groaning, he gripped the vanity and pressed his erection into the small of her back. “Hearing that word roll off your sweet tongue is going to get you fucked, pet.”

  Lucia giggled. “Promise?”

  Pressing kisses along her neck and shoulder, he whispered in her ear, “Absolutely.”

  Then his hands roamed up her hips, over her stomach, to cup her breasts and tweak her nipples. The locket rested above them, his glistening stamp of ownership shimmering under the stark lights. She melted against him, feeling sublimely happy.

  With a soft curse, he forced himself to step back and reach into his pocket again. He withdrew a little black velvet box, and when he opened it to reveal a beautiful engagement solitaire, she gasped. “Y-You’re asking me to…”

  “Marry me, yes. It’s the same question as before, Lucia. The collaring was for us, something private. This i
s for the rest of the world. But I want you in every way I can get you. Will you make me a very happy man and become my wife?”

  “You’re sure you’re ready for this?”

  He turned her to face him and cupped her nape with his warm, encompassing palm. “I never forgot you, Lucia. But I told myself I was doing what was best for you. In the last two days, you’ve made me see what I was giving up. If you had gotten away from me again, it would have been like a never-healing wound. I would have come after you again and again until you said yes. Is it too soon for you to make this sort of public statement about us to your family and friends?”

  “No. When I met you two years ago, I knew what I wanted. I just wasn’t courageous enough to go after you. This time…” She paused, then sent him a coy smile. “You know I was going back to Vegas just long enough to talk to Nicki, gather my things, and figure out how to hunt you down. I wasn’t letting you get away twice, Jon Bocelli. I was willing to take off all my clothes and beg you.”

  “You know just what to say to get my attention, pet.” He groaned, nuzzled her neck, and pressed his cock against her. “So…will you marry me?”

  “Of course. I’d be honored.”

  He slipped the gorgeous solitaire on her left finger, pressing his forehead to hers briefly. Then he guided her over to the bed, sat down, and held her hands as she stood, watching him.

  Lucia frowned. “What’s your third question?”

  “Would you rather have your spanking with a bare hand or a paddle? I’ll give you a choice—this time. Don’t get used to it.”

  A little thrill raced through Lucia. “Spanking? What for?”

  “Planning to leave without talking to me. But if you really just meant to regroup and come back for me, I might be willing to withdraw your punishment. For now.”

  She shivered as heat curled through her. A spanking from Jon Bocelli sounded divine. “You don’t have to do that. Maybe we could try both and see which one I like better?”

  With a laugh, he winked at her, then patted his lap. “I like the way you think, pet. Lie here and we’ll try both. If you’re good, there will be an extra reward for you.”

  She cupped his face in her hands and brushed a kiss across his mouth. “I’ve already gotten everything I’ve ever wanted. I love you, Jon.”

  “I love you, too, Doc. I couldn’t be a happier man now that you’re finally, truly mine.”

  On Fire

  sylvia day

  This one is for my dear friends,

  Shayla Black and Shiloh Walker.

  Here’s to many more years of

  friendship, laughter, and commiseration.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  To all the readers who’ve enjoyed the Shadow Stalkers mini-series so far, I hope you love this new installment! Thank you for buying my books, sending me your notes and e-mails, and otherwise being totally awesome. I appreciate you.

  chapter one

  Darcy Michaels adjusted her gloved grip on her toolbox and picked her way carefully over the charred remains of her favorite candy store. Around her, firefighters moved through the smoldering ruins, checking every crevice and corner to be certain the fire was completely extinguished. Water dripped from the blackened walls and ceiling to puddle on the floor below, and the smell of smoke and burned sugar clung to her nostrils and skin, sinking into the very fiber of her uniform.

  “Third one in as many weeks,” James Ralston muttered behind her. “I’m sorry, Darcy. I know you loved this place.”

  She stopped and faced her mentor, her chest gripped in a vise of pain. Like the two previous fires, this blaze had destroyed a location that was dear to her and had held precious memories. She’d celebrated her twelfth birthday at the Sweet Spot candy shop, and she stopped by every Friday to stock up on the sour lemonade straws her sister had turned her on to.

  Focus on the details, Darcy. Don’t lose it now.

  “Whoever the arsonist is,” she said, “he’s not going to quit. He’s been doing this too long. It’s in his blood.”

  The frequency of the acts and the terrible brilliance of the timed-delay incendiary devices being used spoke of someone who’d had time to perfect his madness.

  She couldn’t help feeling violated, despite knowing how irrational that response was. As much as she’d wanted to leave Lion’s Bay as a kid, she couldn’t even contemplate abandoning the sleepy seaside town now. The same memories that had driven her parents to move away kept her bound to the area.

  “I don’t know what to make of it.” Jim’s forest green eyes were warm with compassion and intent on her face. “We don’t have any new residents and it’s the off-season. Tourism is down. Anyone not from around here sticks out like a sore thumb.”

  She turned in a slow circle, her trained gaze following the burn patterns he’d taught her to read.

  “This guy didn’t just crawl out of the w-woodwork,” she said, startled to hear her voice cracking. She cleared her dry throat. “I think we need to bring the big guns in on this.”

  “Miller’s doing a good job. He’s meticulous and thorough.” He touched her elbow lightly. “You don’t want to be the one who steps on his toes.”

  Darcy nodded, acknowledging the sensitive nature of her relationship with the town’s sheriff. “I know, but I think he needs more resources, and I think he’s too stubborn to ask for help.”

  The last time the Feds had come in, they’d run roughshod over Chris Miller and his deputies, cutting him out of the loop while draining his limited resources. She remembered that tense time all too well, because the murder they’d been investigating had been the tragedy that brought her home. “And frankly, Chris’s ego is the least of our problems.”

  “Let’s gather the evidence, then we’ll discuss the next best steps.” Setting his hand on her shoulder, Jim gave her a reassuring squeeze. “Maybe you should stay with someone tonight?”

  Reaching up, she set her hand over his. He knew her so well.

  She wanted a particular kind of support, the kind where someone was nearby if she needed them but out of her way if she wanted time to just retreat with her thoughts.

  Her gaze met Jim’s and he read her mind. “My couch is always open to you, Darcy. You know that.”

  She nodded. “Thank you.”

  “Anytime.”

  Turning away, Darcy looked for a place to set down her kit and begin.

  ROLLING OVER WITH a sigh, Darcy looked at the clock over Jim’s fireplace mantel and noted the time: quarter after five. It was still dark outside and she’d been tossing and turning all night, too wired by her restless thoughts to catch the sleep she desperately needed. There was something about the fires that was niggling at her, but she just couldn’t place it. Turning it over and over in her mind wasn’t bringing the answer she was looking for to mind.

  Sitting up, she rolled her shoulders back, knowing what had to be done. She wanted her treasured equanimity back, and the only way to make that happen was to find the psycho who was stealing it from her and see him in a cage. The sooner, the better. A possible pissing match between authorities wasn’t going to be enough to hold her back. So far no one had been hurt, but their torch was barely catching his breath between fires. If he kept to his established pattern, they had only days before he struck again.

  A warm exhale over her toes brought her attention to the handsome German shepherd sprawled on the floor at the foot of the couch. When her brief relationship with Jim had fizzled out, she’d felt the loss of his dog keenly.

  “Thanks for watching out for me, Columbo.” Reaching down, she scratched behind his ears.

  The residents of Lion’s Bay were paying her to provide the same service to the town—to watch out for them and keep them safe.

  She wasn’t going to let them down.

  chapter two

  Deputy U.S. Marshal Jared Cameron waited until the Lion’s Bay sheriff sucked in a deep breath mid-rant, then he glanced at his partner.

  “This winner is all yo
urs,” he drawled, turning on his heel and leaving Deputy Trish Morales to it. She’d been assigned to him for just that reason: she had the patience of a saint and he had no patience at all. Especially not for defensive, posturing small-town authorities who whipped their dicks out and started marking their territories the moment he rolled into town.

  “I’m not done. Where the fuck is he going?” Sheriff Miller snapped, followed by a far more modulated reply from Trish.

  Idiot. Nothing trumped the U.S. Marshals Service’s silver star.

  Jared closed the sheriff’s glass inset door behind him just to shut out the man’s voice. Pushing the irritation from his thoughts, he started through the bull pen toward the exit when an unexpected and unwanted complication walked into the station. He took scant note of her initially, but something drew his attention back.

  Grudgingly he slowed, then came to a stop. Whoever she was, she was a bombshell. Not in the physical sense. In that regard, she was of average height, slim, and moderately proportioned. Her face was free of cosmetics and her brown hair was pulled back in a casual ponytail. If he’d been looking at a photo of her, he wouldn’t have looked twice. But in the flesh, watching her move, was what snared him.

  She was hot monkey sex in a brown paper wrapper.

  The secret of her was revealed in the sensual fluidity of her body and her heavy-lidded, bottle green eyes. The primitive male in him recognized the attraction instantly, completely disregarding his brain, which didn’t have time for this sort of distraction. Unfortunately for him, the blue uniform slacks and embroidered white button-up shirt she wore told Jared he had no chance of avoiding her unless he wanted to switch with Trish and take point with Miller instead. He was stuck with deciding which part of his anatomy was going to be the least controllable: his fists or his dick.