he’d heard it, because his eyes went darker then, looking determined. “You’d better start caring, honey. Because I don’t like being used. So I’d advise you to start talking—telling me what your little game the other night was really all about.” He still held her arm, tight, and was slowly backing her off the walkway into the grass, another step, another step, until she bumped into the chain-link fence that enclosed the pool area. Most of the fence was covered with greenery or hidden with shrubs, but here she felt the cool steel against her arms, shoulders.
“Or what?” she asked—again, too quietly.
“Or you’re gonna find out the game works both ways.”
Lord, what was he talking about? And why didn’t he just take her explanation at face value? How did he know there was more to the story? Apparently, she was a better actress when it came to being a streetwalker than a sex-hungry lady cop. “What do you mean?”
“I’ll show you exactly what I mean,” he said, threat dancing in his eyes, then slid his palms down both her arms until he laced his fingers tight and smooth between her own, effectively pinning her to the fence with his body. He was bigger, broader, than she’d ever realized before—and oh, then his erection pressed to the juncture of her thighs through his jeans, making her breasts ache and her cunt weep. That’s when he pressed a blistering hot kiss to her mouth—pushing his tongue between her lips, kissing passionate and hard, making her feel every nuance of it.
She couldn’t help kissing back. Something about him was so powerful, intense. She didn’t want to kiss him back—in fact, her instincts told her to run, to get as far away from such intoxicating kisses as she could. But he had her trapped against the fence, and beneath his mouth—his lush, capable, commanding mouth—and at the moment it was all she could do not to melt.
When finally the long, sensual kiss ended, they were both panting. The front of his body grazed hers, although the bulge behind his zipper achieved more solid contact. It was hard as hell not to grind against it.
“Let me go,” she said anyway. It came out stronger than she felt.
“Not a chance,” he replied, masculine heat from his body buffeting her. So it made no sense when he released one of her hands—until she looked down a few seconds later to see that he’d pulled something from his pocket, furry and red, a more gentle set of handcuffs than the regulation ones she’d used on him.
She gasped, but not before one fur-lined ring circled her wrist, snapping shut. “What are you doing?”
Just as quickly, he pressed the back of her hand to the fence at her side and snapped the other cuff shut around a couple of the sturdy, square chain-links. “What’s it look like?” he said, not an ounce of amusement in his voice.
Her heartbeat tripled and before she could even summon an answer, he’d whipped out a second pair of red furry cuffs, stretched out her other arm, and cuffed it to the fence, too. She sucked in her breath, trying to think, but it was difficult given how close to her he still stood. “Carter, you can’t be serious,” she finally managed. Even though he looked plenty serious.
He tilted his head and narrowed his gaze. “Since you like to play with handcuffs so much, I figured you’d be into this.”
Part of her wanted to scream in frustration. For the first time, she understood a little of what Carter might have felt in the hotel room. Her heart still beat madly, almost painfully. Yet even amid her disbelief that Carter had really just chained her to a fence, leaving her completely at his mercy, she couldn’t help realizing he’d been a little more thoughtful than her, getting the furry, playful kind of cuffs so as not to hurt her wrists.
Though with that thought in mind—that these came from some adult novelty store—she yanked both her arms away from the fence, expecting one or both to break free. But they
Learning to Kill: Stories