Carter's Cuffs (8 page)

“Yeah, well,” he said, still sounding gruff, sarcastic, “I get a little pissed off when someone chains me to a bed in a hotel, then walks out on me.”

Her whole body remained tense. It had started with fear, but now it was…what? Desire? Hard, brazen lust? Again? Oh God, yes,
again
. She wanted him.

But she wasn’t going to have him. She was going to nip this in the bud once and for all, even though it meant lying and being mean.

“Look,” she said pointedly, “I wanted to party with you. That’s all. A little sex, a wild time I thought we could all enjoy. It was your birthday—I figured I’d make it one to remember. I didn’t mean to piss you off, but given that we’re neighbors, I hope you can move past it so that we can be civil to one another if we pass in the hall.”

With that, she started to move past him on the narrow walkway—but he grabbed her wrist. “Not good enough,” he said.

She darted her gaze up to his. “What?”

“You owe me an explanation. A real one.” She could feel the testosterone just dripping off him—and onto her.

Stay tough. Stay tough.
“That’s as real as it gets, baby.”

He never broke their gaze, although his voice softened slightly. “I don’t believe you.”

She sucked in her breath. Like before, during sex, their faces were too close. “I don’t care what you believe,” she told him. But her voice had softened, as well—without her permission.

And she feared 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 were stronger than they looked and held tight. Damn.

She shut her eyes in defeat, then opened them to see Carter peering down at her.

“Don’t worry, honey—this won’t hurt. At least not much.”

Once more, she sucked in her breath, shocked to discover Carter could be so cold. Well, not cold. Hot as hell, actually—hot and take-charge. But calculating and tough.

She had to get out of here somehow. Not because she was frightened of him, but because she was still
deeply
frightened for her heart if she got any closer to this man. “Carter,” she said, sounding breathless even to her own ears. “You have to let me go. I can’t… I just can’t…”

“Sure you can, baby,” he said, his voice almost teasing and soothing this time, but still possessing an underlying air of domination.

And as he ran his big hands slowly, achingly, up her hips, over her waist, the sides of her breasts, she yanked at the cuffs again, an instinct, and thought of screaming. But at the same time, she couldn’t deny the pleasure echoing through every single inch of her body. She couldn’t deny that her breasts were heaving and her pussy had filled with heat. And she also couldn’t deny that he wasn’t doing anything to her that she hadn’t already done to him, and that—Lord help her—her body craved more.

Carter had never planned to be so rough with her. But maybe deep down he’d known a little roughness would be required to get her where he wanted her, and maybe he thought fair was fair. The part he supposed he hadn’t expected was the way he felt right now. Like an animal. A heat-seeking, hungry beast.

He’d been plenty attracted to her before their Caesars Palace encounter, but seeing her now forced him to also see her, in his mind, as she’d been then. He couldn’t not remember the way she’d ridden him, that sweet, tight pussy working his cock, or the way her beautiful breasts had spilled from her bra with those pink pointed nipples before she’d caressed them in her small, pretty hands. And he discovered that he felt now much like he had then. Lust-filled—and angry.

And since she refused to give him the one thing he’d ask of her—a real, honest explanation—his body was more than ready to move on to what they already knew worked between them. Sex. And he wasn’t inclined to be gentle.

So he didn’t stop himself from closing his hands firmly over her breasts through her dress. And her hot moan shot straight to his dick, telling him what he’d already sensed—she could act like this offended her, but she wanted it just as badly as he did.

Kneading her breasts—pushing, squeezing, molding—he gave her another hard, punishing kiss that he hoped she felt all the way to her cunt. Then, too heated up to even think of going slow, he curled the fingers of both hands into the draped black bodice of her dress and pulled downward, easily able to catch the fabric under the shelf her large breasts created. A skimpy black bra with thin shoulder straps resided underneath, her lush cleavage looking ready to burst from it, so he helped it along, yanking down the cups of the bra, as well.

Her hot gasp fueled him, as did the way she looked, cuffed to the fence on both sides, at his mercy. He’d never been into bondage, but maybe this was a fetish waiting to happen, because she looked too delectable this way—chained, her voluptuous breasts bared.

He dove on them, unable not to. Letting both hands close back around the abundant curves, he feasted, sinking his mouth firmly to one hard pink peak. She sobbed softly, the sound wafting through him like sweet music as he suckled her hard.

“Oh God,” she moaned. “
Oh God
.”

He molded and sucked harder. Then moved his ministrations to her other breast, latching on just as tightly, savoring how amazingly rock-hard her nipples had grown for him, like pearls between his lips.

Freeing one hand, he reached down, under her dress, easing his fingers directly between her thighs. Her panties were soaked and it made his cock strain in his jeans. Oh yeah, she wanted this, all right—she wanted it with just as much ferocity as he did.

“Your pussy’s so wet,” he growled between suckling her breasts.

She answered by thrusting against his hand.

He moaned in response, rubbing the damp, swollen mound in a hot, hard rhythm he hoped she felt in her clit. “That’s right, baby,” he told her between heated breaths. “Fuck my hand.”

Her heavy breathing replaced the night’s silence, hot and beautiful. Carter had never realized how quiet it was where they lived late at night—in Green Valley, an outlying suburb twenty minutes from the Strip. But he noticed it now, because Erin’s beautiful panting noises were all he could hear and they filled his senses as she moved on his fingers.

Needing more of her—damn, it was heaven to finally be holding her, finally have the control to do what he wanted with her—he shoved her silk panties roughly aside and sank his touch to her wet folds. “Oh God, yeah,” he said, his fingers instantly drenched with her desire. He rubbed her, really
felt
her, exploring her cunt the way he’d wanted to the other night. He raked his fingers deep through the warm, damp furrow, enjoying her noises of pleasure, then he traveled farther, farther, until he sensed the spot where she opened. His blood ran hot as he thrust two fingers up inside.

“Oh!” she cried, louder than before, so he quieted her with another hard kiss. He moved his fingers in and out of that hot, wet passage where his cock had been only a few nights ago, but somehow this felt more intimate to him—because he could touch her now, make her feel things,
make
her respond.

He loved how she met the rough kisses he slanted across her mouth, loved how her breasts jiggled against his chest, loved how damn wet she was for him. “Dirty girl,” he whispered heatedly.

“You
make
me dirty.”

“I
like
you dirty.”

She met his gaze, her lips swollen, eyes wild. “Then fuck me,” she said.

He’d never imagined she would ask under the current circumstances, but he liked it, and he told her so with another bruising kiss. Reaching under her dress, he found the elastic at her hips and yanked it toward her knees in a rush, until it fell in a small heap around her ankles, over top the sexy black heels she wore. Glancing down, he let the sight increase his arousal, and he worked at his jeans until he could shove them down, spread them open, his hard shaft bursting free.

“Ohhh…” she purred at the sight of it, and he could have sworn he grew another inch.

“You like this, baby? You want it?”

She clenched her teeth lightly, her brown eyes so wide and hungry in that moment that she looked just as reckless as he felt. “You know I do,” she said, her voice sounding a little strangled. “Take me. Fuck me. Now.”

Oh God—that was all he needed to hear. And she was so wet and ready that he could smell her, the sweet scent of her pussy wafting to greet him as he pushed her slinky dress up around her hips. She automatically hooked one leg around his thigh, the pointed heel of her shoe digging into his flesh in back as she used the leverage to pull him closer. He locked both hands onto her sweet, round ass and thrust his cock inside her.

They both cried out and he hoped to God no one had heard.

And then he looked into her eyes.

He’d planned to fuck her hard, be relentless, give her the most brutal pounding she’d ever had.

But somehow things slowed then, turned more rhythmic. It was the way she moved so deliberately, the way he sensed she
needed
to feel him. It was the languid, sexy, needful look in her eyes. It was how she arched against him, her body seeming to roll against him like a wave against the shore, again, again. Hot, slow—a sexy cadence he couldn’t fight.

He picked her up, lifting her ass in his palms. “Wrap your legs around me,” he instructed, breathless.

She did as he’d said, their gazes never breaking. He kissed her once more—pure instinct.

With her back pressed to the fence, she undulated against his cock in a tempo that felt ancient, timeless, hypnotic. Her breasts ebbed and flowed against his chest until finally he reached down and captured one pink peak in his mouth. “Oh, oh God,” she murmured. “Good. Good.”