Cuffed & Collared Page 16

  He came on the line within a couple of minutes. “Regan, I was hoping you would call. I didn’t want to disturb you given the investigation.”

  His deep, sexy voice gave her stomach a satisfying jolt. “I wish I could say I’m making progress. The sad truth is I’m not.” She paused. “Are you up for seeing me tonight?”

  “Why Sergeant, what an interesting turn of phrase,” Kyle drawled. “I’m always up for seeing you.”

  “Haha. When will you be home?”

  “When do you want me home, Mistress?”

  Hearing him call her that upped her squirm-factor. “Eight o’clock.” She wasn’t sure she could wait so long, yet needed to put in some more hours and she knew his job was as demanding as hers.

  “Then that’s when I’ll be home. Would you like me to fix dinner?”

  “No, I’ll bring take-out.”

  “How do you want me, Mistress Regan?”

  A myriad of scenarios flashed through her mind. She settled quickly on the mundane. After the intensity of their previous encounters, she wanted to keep it low-keyed. “Stay as you are or get comfortable. Pretend this is a typical date for you.”

  He chuckled again. “You do ask a lot of me, Mistress.”

  They said their good-byes, and with effort, Regan made use of the rest of her day in trying to find a clue to their killer.

  She arrived at Kyle’s condo with a bag of her favorite Chinese food. He greeted her in shirtsleeves and slacks, took the bag, and carried it to his kitchen. Because he had been a good boy and not acted on the obvious desire to kiss her, she rewarded him by grabbing him as he took the cartons out of the bag.

  They held the embrace until Regan had to pull up for air. Pushing him away, she said, “Feed me.”

  He grinned and finished taking out the food and plating it. She was amused by the formality of putting Chinese take-out on platters to be placed on the dining room table. It reminded her of the great difference in their upbringing and social status. If she let it, her insecurity would nag at her existing doubts about them, but she decided she wouldn’t allow it. She needed to relax and see where things went.

  As he walked back and forth setting up for dinner, she undid the belt to her trench coat. Underneath, she wore her Nemesis dress, complete with fishnet and boots. She wasn’t working undercover anymore, but it seemed a shame to let it go to waste. She watched in delight the look on Kyle’s face when he turned and saw what she wore. Even across the room, she could see his nostrils flare and his chest start to heave.

  “Down, boy,” she commanded. “I want to eat first.”

  “You can be a very cruel mistress,” he replied glibly, but he restrained himself. The only change was the speed in which he completed his task.

  He offered her wine, and she accepted. They sat down, her at the head of the table, he to her right, and tucked in. The food was good. The way Kyle stared at her while attacking his plate was better. It was as if he were trying to satisfy his need to put something in his mouth, and the food was his only outlet. The thought gave her an idea.

  She tortured them both by taking her time to savor each bite of food and each sip of wine. Long since finished with his meal, Kyle sat back, toying with his wine glass and almost panting like a dog. He was devouring her with his eyes. His cock strained against his pants. It was time to relieve them both.

  With a last swallow of her wine, Regan pushed back from the table. She leaned close to Kyle, shoving the dishes farther across the table. With a little hop, she perched herself on the edge of the smooth wood and splayed her legs in invitation. She kept her eyes on Kyle the whole time, and he kept his eyes on her as well. He understood immediately what she was offering. His gaze remained locked on hers while he shifted his chair so that he sat directly in front of her. He didn’t act on the invitation, though. He waited for permission.

  Regan made them both wait long, agonizing seconds before giving him the command they both wanted. “Eat me,” she said in a quiet voice and gripped the edge of the table in anticipation.

  Kyle said nothing. He wasn’t sure he had any spit left in his mouth to speak. He simply moved to comply, his hands reaching slowly and deliberately to first cup her knees under her dress. It was an act to steady himself, to keep him from launching his body into hers, to devour the lusciousness she offered him. It was important that he do it right. He needed to give her more pleasure than she had ever felt before.

  His gaze dropped now. He watched his hands roam up her thighs, catching the buttery material of her dress and scrunching it up to her waist. The fishnet stockings she wore were scratchy against his palms, a tingling sensation he wanted to repeat. He did by rubbing her thighs back and forth a few times before continuing his march up her leg. He could tell Regan enjoyed the feeling as well because her head dropped back and her eyelids went to half-mast.

  That was nothing compared to his own reaction. Kyle’s breath wanted to burst from his lungs in harsh pants, and his cock ached for release as her smooth, pale upper thighs came into view. She wore no underwear, like the creepy doctor Molvado, but on Regan, the nudity was electrifying. Her trim, dark red bush called to him with drops of moisture winking in the light that caught them. He cradled the creases where thigh met hip with his hands, using his thumbs to frame her cunt lips.

  A tiny explosion of air erupted from Regan’s mouth at his touch. He caught that puff and inhaled deeply to steady his nerves. God, how he wanted to dive in, plant his lips against her lower ones. Hard earned discipline stopped him from acting on the urge. He was better than that. He could do this right, give this woman he loved the time and attention she deserved.

  So, instead of using his mouth, he used his thumbs. With little circles, he massaged the pouting flesh. Regan’s hips bucked at the motion, and a moan encouraged his pursuit. He pressed down with his hands so that she couldn’t wiggle too much. After a few seconds of torturing them both with this, building the anticipation, he leaned in and ran his tongue right up her slit.

  “Yes,” Regan hissed.

  Kyle stole a glance up at her. Her head was back even farther, and her eyes were completely closed. He smiled at the sight and went back to his task.

  This time, he slid his tongue between the folds and licked her clit. He kept his touch light and quick, varying from moment to moment the motion of his tongue—up and down, around and around in small circles—alternating between the tip of his tongue and the long flat of it. The smell and taste of her made his blood boil even hotter. He kept up the pressure from the outside with his thumbs, digging deep inside to reach the parts his tongue could not.

  Regan moaned again. Her stomach quivered against his head. One of her hands grabbed him by the hair, and her nails dug deep into his scalp as she pressed his face hard into her crotch. He could tell she was almost there. Increasing his pace, he urged her on and reveled in the effect he was having on her. Her body undulated like a belly dancer. Her breath rasped out, and the moans of pleasure spurred him on even faster. As she reached her peak, she enveloped him in her body. Her thighs overpowered his hands and pressed against his face. He could barely breathe and didn’t care. He only wanted to send her into ecstasy.

  Kyle worked his tongue with a fury until he felt Regan’s climax subsiding. When her frantic motions stopped, so did he. He pulled his head away from her body as it relaxed its grip on him. He looked up at her, keeping his hands lightly on her thighs. Her eyes were still closed, but she was smiling.

  Standing up, he wiped his mouth quickly on his sleeve before stealing a kiss. She didn’t mind his boldness. Instead of pushing him away, she wrapped her arms around his waist and pulled him closer to her. It was she who parted his lips and let her tongue wander into his mouth. He liked that she didn’t mind the taste of her own juices. But it wasn’t enough for him. His cock was pressed between his body and the edge of the table. It begged him to rub himself to release. He wouldn’t do it, though. It would be an insult to Regan and not what he craved, in any e
vent.

  He broke off the kiss and spoke in a whisper, “Please, Mistress, may I come inside you?”

  “Yes,” was her quick reply, and more, she reached to undo his pants and free his cock herself.

  The feel of her hot hand on his hotter flesh was almost too much. “Wait,” he pleaded and fumbled for a condom in his pocket. He was clumsy in his desperation, so she took over that chore for him as well.

  As soon as he was ready, he dove into her. They both gasped at the joining. She was slick, yet tight, and oh so warm and cozy. He wanted to savor the feeling, but knew he couldn’t. He started pumping into her with short, frantic bursts. She grabbed his waist once more and urged him on.

  With hands under her ass, he angled her back, so he could go deeper, harder. He could tell she was climbing again and tried to wait for her. He couldn’t. The climax ripped through him. He threw back his head in a primeval cry of satisfaction as cum pulsed through his shaft to collect fruitlessly within the condom.

  Above his voice, he heard Regan doing the same. He hadn’t disappointed her after all. And that made him feel like a god.

  Chapter Eleven

  Regan stepped into Kyle’s living room and winced at the carnage. The remnants of the Chinese food remained on the dining table and articles of hers and Kyle’s clothing lay scattered across the floor. She had spent the night. Kyle had begged so appealingly, that she couldn’t refuse. The truth was that after another vigorous round of sex on the table, she hadn’t felt like getting dressed and driving home. Thank God she kept a gym bag in her car with spare clothes. Kyle had gallantly fetched it for her this morning, and while she was dressed a bit shabbily, at least she didn’t look like Mistress Regan.

  Kyle had promised her a fabulous breakfast of waffles, but he was still dressing, so she decided to be useful and pick up. Going around the large room, she snatched up stockings, a shirt, a dress, and pants. The pants were upside down when she hauled them into her arms, and a card fluttered from the pocket. Bending over, she picked it up and found herself staring at it with first confusion and then growing anger. By the time Kyle came out of the bedroom, she had dropped the clothes in her arms and was gripping the card with white hot fury.

  The smile on his face died in an instant when he spied her standing there. “What’s the matter?” He stopped in front of her.

  Regan took a couple of deep breaths to try to ward off the yelling and cursing demanding to be unleashed. It didn’t help much. She held up the card. “You went to see Molvado.”

  Kyle didn’t answer right away. He dropped his gaze briefly before looking her square in the eye. “Yes, I did.” His calm and matter of fact tone fueled her fury.

  “I told you not to!” She wasn’t quite yelling, but it was the tone she used with subordinates at work when they screwed up. “I very specifically told you to stay the hell away from that woman.”

  “I know.” His tone remained calm. He wasn’t cringing at her rebuke, but then she would have been surprised if he had shown such weakness. Yet, his lack of contrition was intolerable.

  “Why?” she demanded. “Why did you disobey me?”

  He heaved a sigh, the first sign that he was also upset. “Because I had to do what I could to find Jazz’s killer, that’s why. I told you from the beginning I’m not the kind of man to sit back and let others solve problems for me.”

  Regan crushed the card in her hand and walked away, trying to put some emotional distance between them, too. She rounded on him after a few futile steps. “You told me that when we were strangers, and I told you that you had no business stepping between the police and an investigation. Once we became personally involved, I thought you had agreed to obey me. Has this all been a lie, Kyle? All this ‘Mistress Regan, I’ll do whatever you say’ is just bullshit?”

  He took a step toward her before apparently thinking better of it and stopping. “No. God, no, Regan. I meant what I’ve said.” There was a pleading in his eyes. “I think I love you, as crazy as that sounds after such a short time. And against all instincts and experience, I’m willing to let you lead me by the cock. You’re the one person in the world I’ll obey in bed and out, except that there are limits. I can’t let you dictate to me about certain things like my job.”

  “This is not your job!” She was shouting now. “It’s mine.”

  “I know it’s your job.” His voice was rising, too. “That’s why I don’t make a fuss when I see you with that gun strapped to your body as you leave this safe place for the dangers out there. But I consider finding my friend’s killer my job as well. I can’t help it. It’s the way I’m made, Regan. You can’t change me.”

  “I don’t want to change you. I want to keep you safe. I warned you that Molvado might be dangerous.”

  “She’s creepy, I’ll give you that,” he replied in a more normal tone. “I think she’s a likely suspect.”

  “Ugh!” Regan groaned in frustration. The man was not getting her point. He was maddening. He said he was willing to let her call the shots for them both, but it was conditional. He would only do what he thought he should do. He wasn’t really submitting to her at all. The whole thing was a sham, a sex game, and maybe a way to disarm her about what he did against her wishes. Well, she could accept that what they had been doing was all a big game, but she could not tolerate his using her to play detective.

  She forced her voice steady and low. “I’m only going to say this one more time, Kyle. Stay out of this investigation.”

  “I won’t go back to see Molvado. I can promise you that, and if she tries to contact me, I’ll let you know.”

  Regan grimaced. “It’s something. I’m not sure it’s enough, but it is something. It doesn’t change what you did or how angry I am over it, though.”

  Kyle gave her a wry smile. “I know I’ve been bad, and I understand how mad you are. Why not simply give me a good beating and get it out of your system? I understand I deserve it.”

  Regan stood staring at him, trying to take in his words and have them mean something other than what they did. It was no use. She backed away from him, unable to hide her upset. His expression changed as he looked at her.

  “What?” he demanded. “What’s the matter?”

  “Didn’t you hear yourself?” Disgust rang in her voice. “You want me to beat you for your disobedience.”

  “Yeah, right. Jesus, Regan, that’s what we’ve been doing for the last little while. Why are you shying away from it now?”

  “You don’t see the difference.” Her stomach was churning. Things had spun out of control. Perhaps it wasn’t a game to him, after all, but the kind of sick need she had feared from the start. She turned away and headed quickly for the front door. She had to get out of here.

  Kyle was on her before she got there. Reaching out, he grabbed her arm and brought her up short. “Talk to me, for God’s sake. What did I do wrong?”

  Regan wrenched free but didn’t race for the door. He genuinely looked confused, so it was up to her to explain and cut this awful relationship off for his sake as much as her own. She spoke in measured tones. “I’m angry with you, Kyle. Furious, and you want me to hit you, hurt you, under these conditions. That’s not a sex game. That’s abuse. If I let loose on your now, that’s abuse, and I arrest people for that kind of thing.”

  “You’d never hurt me,” he protested. “I trust you.”

  She shook her head and stepped to the door again. This time, he didn’t try to stop her. “Letting someone hit you when they’re mad isn’t trust. It’s unhealthy, and I can’t be part of that kind of relationship, Kyle.”

  He took a step forward, hand outstretched. “Regan, please, I’m sorry.”

  “So am I.” She turned and shut the door behind her.

  ****

  Regan sat at her desk chewing over her fight with Kyle, a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. Had she done the right thing? Was breaking off with Kyle the right choice? Given how he’d assumed her beating him was a way to res
olve a fight, she had to believe it was the right decision.

  She was miserable, though, and had been since leaving him that morning. The devastated look on his face as he’d pleaded for her to reconsider ate away at her. He’d said he loved her. In the heat of the moment, she’d glossed over that declaration. It was insane to love someone you barely knew. Still, she believed him, because she felt it, too.

  What had started out as a disturbing new chapter in her sex life had become an emotional upheaval she could not ignore. Could she really be in love with Kyle? It seemed crazy to think she could feel something so deep and long-lasting for someone she’d known for such a short time. It had been an intense time, though, and maybe that explained the depth of her feeling. Or, maybe it was the sexual intensity masquerading in her mind as something more important. Love.

  Christ, Jesus, how could she be in love with a man who said he respected her yet went behind her back on the investigation as if he didn’t trust her judgment or competency? She was in love with a man who let her tie him up and strap his ass as foreplay and still didn’t understand that she could only play that way as long as it didn’t tip into an abusive relationship. There was a fundamental disconnect in their interactions and had been from the start. Of course, she’d done the right thing breaking it off. So why did she want to run to him and take it all back? Take him back.

  She didn’t have time to dwell on it further when Fuller approached.

  “Tell me you have something,” the lieutenant commanded in a weary voice as he sat down on the edge of Regan’s desk.

  “City Hall biting your ass?” Regan ventured in way of an answer.

  The lieutenant gave her a hard stare. “That’s right, and here I am ready to chomp on yours.”

  Regan scrunched up her face. “Get out the salt, LT, because we have nothing.”

  JoJo joined them by rolling her chair over. “Zip.”

  Fuller grimaced. “What about the woman from the club?”

  “The Queen of the Nile has solid alibis for the first two murders,” Regan replied. “She had no connection to those vics, either, that we could see.” She shrugged. “Anyway, I’m sure we have one woman at work here, so even with the decent link between Cleo and Foster, she’s cleared.”