by Eve Langlais
He said nothing, waiting for more information.
“I got a call from a friend of yours. Jack Williams. He’s a friend of mine, too. He probably makes more from his friends in the force than he does on his nine-to-five. You were right to have him ask around.”
She poked him with the file again and he took it. “Host Airlines isn’t off the hook. They could still be part of it. The investigation is still open, but we’re looking at a number of small airlines.” She stopped, looked around the small office. “The owner looked like an icy bitch to me. I was sure she was in on something. But if she has…friends…like you, she can’t be all bad. Your record’s spotless.”
She pulled out a pen from her pocket and walked past him toward the sitting area. She bent down, using the pen tip to lift something from the floor near the couch. “So I am going to overlook this little bit of stray housekeeping.” She waved it at him. Selene’s baby blue bra. He winced. She was so going to kill him.
Detective Steeves grinned. It completely wiped the hard-ass cop look from her face. He couldn’t help but to grin back at her.
“If Host can come up with some proof of their flight plan—reliable customer witnesses that match their flight logs and fuel usages—and we find something stronger in another area, they’ll be clear. For now I’m keeping the who’s who list of suspects quiet. I’ll let you tell her the good news. Whenever you see her.” She flipped the bra at him and he caught it. A minute later she was out the door.
Selene was nearly free of her troubles. She hadn’t really needed him to help her at all. As he’d suspected—believed—she and her partners had nothing to do with anything illegal. He looked at the file in one hand and her bra in the other. If he told her now that the investigation was nearly over, that she only needed to get some witnesses and the mechanics log, would she call it quits on their deal? Walk out the same way she had last year?
A small sound came from the direction of the bathroom. He set the file down hastily in the inbox for the desk opposite Selene’s—Alicia’s, apparently, where it looked like every other file on the shelf—and walked through the office and past the kitchen. The bathroom door remained shut. Selene couldn’t have heard a thing.
Maybe it wasn’t fair, keeping the fact of the cancelled investigation to himself, but Selene had never been one to play fair. He’d tell her tomorrow, and hope that by then they’d had enough time together that she’d want to stay the rest of the week. He smiled and twirled the bra in his fingers, his cock already hardening. He wanted more of her, and now that she knew he wasn’t all flower petals and soft kisses, maybe she’d want to have more of him. This time he was going to capture her heart and keep it, even if he had to be ‘bad cop’ for a long, long time.
* * *
Selene leaned her head against the cool surface of the bathroom door. Bloody hell. What am I, an idiot? No. An idiot nymphomaniac. She held her breath and tried to hear if there was still someone out in the office, someone other than Tom. They could have pretended no one was home, but it was Detective Steeves out there, she knew it. And she was probably ready to lay some charges on her—for going into the office despite the police tape, if not for actual charges on importing illegal goods.
Tom hadn’t done much except get her deeper into trouble.
But she couldn’t really say she regretted getting him involved. If there was one thing she’d learned over the last two days, it was that she had to be honest about her feelings for this man and about the change in their sexual relationship. She’d enjoyed the kinky interludes as much as she’d imagined. But the truth was deeper than that. There was no one she would trust like this other than Tom. It had to be him, and only him. She’d cried, regretted, been absolutely miserable without him. If only he hadn’t rushed her, told her he loved her. Even then she might have stayed. But she’d found that damn ring, and it had scared her to death. She didn’t want to die like her mother.
But this time, Tom had shown her his other side, his bad cop side. And she trusted her body. It wanted him, badly. Enough to wonder. She knew she’d made a mistake running away and hurting Tom. Now she wondered if she should have trusted him, trusted him to take care of her heart, as she trusted him to take care of her body. Just thinking about taking it even further with Tom made her nipples get hard.
Nipples. Damn. She’d missed grabbing her bra in her dash to get out of the main office. And god only knew where her fucking thong was. She was stuck in the bathroom until Tom told her the coast was clear. No way was she going out there, only to see the brutal female detective poking a steel toed shoe at her underwire. Lovely.
She fidgeted, struggled into her dress and zipped it up. To hell with the bra or the thong.
A knock at the door had her jumping back and slipping a little on the tile floor.
“C’mon out, sweetie, the bad detective lady is gone.” Tom’s voice called through the door.
Selene stifled a groan. It had been Steeves out there. She pulled the door open. One look at Tom swinging her bra around on his index finger had her regret her choice in allies after all, and at the same time, sent a shiver of heat from her nipples straight down to her pussy.
“Well? What did she want? She already took copies of all my files.” Selene snatched the bra from him and stepped back, managing to shut the door in his face with a satisfying thump. She smiled as she pulled her sundress down low enough to get the bra on and slipped her arms through the holes. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She was a mess, but a hot one. If she couldn’t get control of this situation soon…she shook her head at her reflection.
“She and I have an appointment this afternoon to go over the details of the investigation.” Tom’s voice sounded muffled and a little annoyed.
“Okay, you go on and do that. You can give me a call when you have more information.” Selene opened the door to find he hadn’t moved; he blocked the doorway entirely.
“No, I think not. It’s time for us to go to my place, so you can get settled.”
She swallowed. Settled. What a word. So permanent.
“Oh, but maybe I should work here until you get home. No point in me being there all alone.”
“My appointment isn’t for a while, Selene. Are you coming or would you rather I put you in cuffs again?”
Her heart pounded and she could feel the heat of a blush rising in her cheeks. The thought of being bound again, in his control, sounded so good. And from the way he was smiling, he knew it. Great.
Chapter Five
They were back in his apartment. She had nothing but pleasant memories here, but her heart pounded. Even the last time she’d walked through the doors, she’d enjoyed the spanking, especially once she’d gotten over the shock of it. But now she wasn’t sure if being here was such a good idea at all.
If she really let him in, made him the star in all her fantasies, would he eventually walk out, the way she had? The way her father had?
Without a word he pulled her briefcase from her hand and set it near the door. Her purse was next, and her light coat. She let him take them from her, not willing to break the quiet. He turned her around and for the second time today pulled her zipper down to the small of her back.
He still had his jacket on, she noticed as she stepped out of the pile of material that was her dress. He had far too many clothes on actually. She followed him back to the guest seating area.
In a quick move he caught her by the waist and lifted her up onto the low coffee table. She felt odd, exposed at that elevation. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a roll of Police tape. He reached around her and wrapped a length of the yellow tape around her belly. A small part of her mind, somehow still able to function under the sensual onslaught of his touch, thanked god it wasn’t the sticky kind.
“While in my custody you have the right to ask me to stop. Or you have the right to keep going, to obey me and surrender.”
Her heart beat picked up. He was going to tie her up. Immediately her pu
ssy creamed. This was a first for her. She trusted him to do it. Didn’t she?
“Take off your bra.”
She hesitated but then reached around to undo the clasp. She slipped it from her shoulders and let it drop, happy to discover her breasts were level with his mouth. When he licked his lips, she leaned closer, but he tsked at her and began to wind the tape around her, cupping the underside of her breasts with the bright plastic, lifting and gathering her breasts until they were held tighter than when her bra was on. The tape pushed them together, accentuating her cleavage but leaving her nipples free. The intimate action had her swaying on her heels.
The yellow tape looked shocking against her naked skin.
Did she want him to do this? She’d played kinky games with men before, but not him. Not anyone like him, someone who could poke holes around the walls of her heart.
He slid his fingers into her thong, pulled it down her hips. She shimmied a little, wordlessly helping him along, and was gratified to see him clench his jaw and swallow hard. She thought he might touch her, stroke her damp pussy, but he didn’t. Instead he nudged her legs apart wider, steadying her on the coffee table. He took out another length of police tape, tied it to the first and began to wind it down her left leg. She shivered as his hair brushed against her thigh when he bent to wind the plastic around her calf.
A long tail of plastic tape dangled from the top of her sandal strap where he’d tucked the tape through. He looked up at her from his position, kneeling on the rug at her feet, and her breath caught. He looked dangerous. Her heart banged inside her chest. A second later he was back to winding another length of tape down her right leg, using long pieces from the roll of the plastic he’d produced from his jacket. Did every cop go around with this stuff, just in case? She couldn’t think. He’d finished her leg and was tucking the tape into her right sandal strap. She didn’t have to imagine what she looked like; by turning her head slightly she could catch a glimpse of her naked, decorated body in the mirror on the opposite wall of the office.
Tom had a flair for garland.
“Give me your hands.” His voice had roughened, and she could understand why. She could see the outline of his hard cock through his jeans. She muffled a grin that threatened to pop out. It must be wickedly tight inside his pants.
She held out her hands and he wrapped the tape around one of her wrists, then tugged it behind her as he circled the coffee table. She wobbled a bit, feeling a little off kilter as he stepped behind her and his jacket brushed her backside, one cool metal snap dragging against her flushed skin. He caught her other arm and twined the tape so that her arms were held together from wrist to elbow.
The position thrust her chest forward. Her nipples, already peaked, ached with the need to be touched. She glanced again at the image of herself in the large mirror and shivered.
“Are you cold?” Tom’s voice held a hint of the old concern and she gulped a breath.
“No,” she whispered.
“No, detective.” He corrected from behind her and gave her butt cheek a little pinch.
He was playing the game but it felt like so much more. Did he still resent her for breaking up with him?
He pushed her legs even further apart. She complied and widened her stance, actually feeling steadier because of it. But when he dropped down to the carpet behind her and took one of the loose ends of the tape, she realized he was tying her to the table legs; she shivered again and bit back a moan. This was further than any kinky game she’d tried. Tied to the table, she would be completely at his mercy. If she asked him to, he would stop. He wouldn’t stop helping her, or looking into her case. She believed that part of him was still the same, honorable and honest. He would stop touching her, though.
She let him bind her.
In a moment he had both legs secured.
* * *
Tom resisted the urge the stroke his cock through his jeans. Jesus, Selene looked so hot he was having hard time with his balance, let alone his control. He could hardly believe that she’d let him strip her and tie her to a coffee table for fuck’s sake, putting her on display like a piece of art. Pornographic art, but still beautiful. She trusts me.
He knelt and discovered his imagination had done him proud – he was at the perfect height to lean in and nuzzle her pussy. She gasped, and he wondered if she was looking at them in the mirror like he had before he dropped to his knees. He reached through her legs, cupped the bottom of her ass with his fingers and used his thumbs to spread the lips of her pussy wide. She moaned, and he couldn’t resist thrusting his tongue inside her to feel her shudder.
She’d always loved it when he went down on her, but this time she couldn’t clasp her fingers in his hair. He kind of missed that, but from here he could worship her and possess her all at once. He licked her folds, alternating the strokes of his tongue with suckling against her clit. She wobbled dangerously on the table so he steadied her, placing one hand on her hips. She leaned against him and the tremors along her legs sent vibrations through his shoulders.
With only one hand free he made the most of it, stroking the curves of her ass and the dip of her waist, caressing the lines of her abdomen until he worked his way up to the plastic binding her breasts. Her nipples stood out in sharp points, and her breath caught, then quickened as he rolled a nub in his fingers, matching the action his lips and tongue performed on her clit.
She cried out, a wordless plea followed by his name. It caught at him, pulled at him. He let go of her hips and thrust his fingers into her pussy. She shuddered and came on his fingers, and he tasted her release. Now he quivered and closed his eyes. Enough. He pulled his jack knife from his pants pocket as she sagged against him.
Moving quickly he cut her legs free of the table and caught her up in a fireman’s carry hold, lifting her over his shoulder. She gasped for breath but he wasn’t giving her any time to recover. He headed straight for the bedroom. He needed her, now.
And there was no way in hell he was going to let her know how much.
* * *
Selene couldn’t think straight. He had her over his shoulder like a cave man. This was completely out of control, but her orgasm had felt so good. With a grunt he plopped her down on the bed. His eyes were dark, his lips stretched tight and thin. He looked dangerous, like a cop in some thriller movie. Except no thriller was this exciting. She stared as he pulled off his shirt, exposing his heavily muscled chest. Better yet, he made quick work of unbuttoning his jeans and she nearly drooled as his hardened cock pushed free of the material.
Her hands were tied, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t do anything. She leaned forward and licked at the exposed muscle on his flat belly. He froze. She started to work her way lower, intent on giving him the same treat he’d given her in the living room.
“Oh, no, honey. You do that and I am going to lose it in a flash. I have a better idea.”
He pulled away, finished stepping out of his jeans and jockeys, and hauled off his socks. Naked, he looked even more dangerous than before.
Before she could get her fill of the visual feast he presented, he stepped back to the bed, caught her around the middle and flipped her over. Helpless, her ass in the air and her face against the mattress, she was reminded of the spanking he’d given her only yesterday and she wiggled before she caught herself.
He fingered her wet pussy. She wiggled back against him, forgetting why she would ever care if she looked eager to please. Dammit, she was eager. Right now. The sound of the condom foil being ripped open and the wet sound of the condom being rolled over his cock made her squirm in anticipation.
He nudged her knees further apart and centered himself against her. The heat of his body pressing against her was intense, and so, so good.
“Tom.” She knew there was a whimper in her voice, and she didn’t care.
“Detective.” He gave her ass a light swat.
“Detective, please.”
He reached around and fingered her cli
t. “I missed you, Selene.” He thrust his cock slowly inside before she could think about that, or think about how she’d missed him, too. All she could think about was the slow way he pumped back and forth, his thick cock pushing deeper and deeper.
“Harder, Detective!”
He gave it to her, the deep thrusts rocking her whole body until she cried out his name, the waves of pleasure ripping through her. “Did…you…miss…me?” He stopped suddenly, waiting for an answer and she screamed it out without thinking or caring what it meant.
“Yes! Yes, I missed you!” She cried out while he reached around to finger her clit, rewarding her or torturing her more. In seconds she was toppling, her orgasm flashing hot through her body.
Moments after she peaked, he growled her name and shuddered, coming as he clutched her against him. A second later he rolled to one side and disposed of the condom, rolling back a second later to pull her against him, cuddled against the warm muscle of his arms and chest. She sighed and shut her eyes.
“You missed me. Why did you leave, Selene?”
Oh god. Since when did a guy want to talk after sex? Especially now, when she felt open, exposed? When she was still bound and completely under his control? What could she say to possibly explain it? “I had to go. You…you were so…nice. It was getting easier to stay.”
“But you didn’t.”
She took a breath. Resisted the urge to bolt out of the room, arms bound or not. “Commitment doesn’t work for me. It didn’t work for my parents either. I can’t do what my mother did—care for someone so much that when they leave your heart dies.”
“Your parents split.” It was a statement, not a question. The room fell silent and he began to rub her arm absently. He wasn’t pushing.
“Yeah. My dad left. My mom…she lost it. She died a few years later.”
“You went to live with your father then?”
“No. He never came back. I went into the system. I dealt.”