Handcuffs. A sexy stranger.

What did she do last night?

Med student Stella Holbrook just had the best night of her life meeting a hot, hunky firefighter, making out with him at the roller rink and then engaging in a whole lot of deliciously wicked behavior in a swank hotel room. Only, when she wakes up the next morning, she can’t remember a thing...

Owen Perkins has no idea how he ended up naked in a bathtub with Stella. All he knows is that while their minds are blank, their bodies definitely remember what happened. All they have to go on are cryptic notes they left for themselves. Piece by piece, they’ll uncover the truth about last night...one exquisitely sexy moment at a time!

“You’re looking at me like you want to touch me...”

Hell, Stella wanted to do a lot more than touch. In her mind, the image flashed of her fingers on the button of Owen’s jeans and working down the fly. A memory? No, more like wishful thinking. Because that was what she would have done last night. And after she’d slid the zipper down she would have shoved the soft material down his hips just far enough to free him. She’d lick his collarbone. Nip his skin with her teeth. Trail her tongue down his body until she reached his—

“Don’t do that,” he gritted out. “I’m doing everything I can to not lift you onto my shoulder, carry you into that bedroom and make up for what I don’t remember.”

“Owen, I—”

He squeezed his eyes shut. “Don’t say my name. You say it like a moan. Don’t look at me like you want my hands all over your body.” He gripped her shoulders and his gaze locked with hers. Hunger blazed in those hazel depths. Hunger for her.

“I want you. But not like this...”

Dear Reader,

I’ve done my fair share of odd things in the name of volunteering, from being dunked in ice-cold water to participating in a rum study. But never once have I woken up in handcuffs (yet)! Of course, a lot worse happens to Stella and Owen, but really, they only have themselves to blame.

I had a blast writing this story about this soon-to-be doctor and a smoke jumper, and it’s not because I had to look at a lot of pictures on the internet of sexy firemen doing their job. Although I’m truly humbled by the amazing work all first responders and our medical professionals take on every day at all hours. I loved writing the sizzling connection and unexpected attraction between Stella and Owen. They weren’t prepared for love, but had to adapt—stat!

It was also fun to catch up with Larissa and her long-term crush, Dr. Mitch Durant, as well as the other couple they send on a winding happily-ever-after path—Hayden Taylor and Anthony Garcia. If you’d like to read Hayden and Tony’s story, check out Naked Thrill.

I can be found hanging around my website, jillmonroe.com—handcuffs optional!

Best,

Jill

Naked Pursuit
Jill Monroe

www.millsandboon.co.uk

JILL MONROE makes her home in Oklahoma with her family. When not writing, she spends way too much time on the internet completing “research” or updating her blog. Even when writing, she’s thinking of ways to avoid cooking.

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As always, this book is dedicated to my family.

Thanks go to Gena Showalter, Candace Havens, Allison Kent, HelenKay Dimon, Stephanie Feagan, Wendy Duren and never last (except in this list) Kassia Krozser.

Special thanks to Deidre Knight and Adrienne Macintosh—you ladies rock!

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Prologue

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

11

Extract

Copyright

Prologue

“YOU CAN’T LEAVE,” Larissa Winston said as she gripped the wood molding lining the doorway, blocking the exit from the patient lounge into the lobby with her body.

Was she really doing this? When had jamming herself between the door and the hallway become part of her job description at PharmaTest?

Four faces stared back at her, each one reflecting a different response: wildness, humor, recklessness and utter disorder. None of which she’d seen in previous test subjects.

Under the watchful eye of the amazing Dr. Mitch Durant, the drug HB121 had been in clinical trials for nearly a year. Usually the test patients simply went to their bunks and quietly slept the night away. In the morning, Larissa would ask a few exit questions, take the subjects’ vitals and process the paperwork for payment. Easy-peasy.

There had never, not one time, ever been a patient revolt. Until now.

She manufactured a stern voice, a combination of the voices of her mother and that scary teacher she’d had in the second grade. “If you will all please return to the patient lounge, I can get you something to eat. I’m sure you’ll be getting very tired soon. I have assigned you each a room for you to rest in until morning. Why don’t you—”

“Are you preventing us from leaving?” the pretty young brunette asked, subject number thirty-five.

“This should make for a very interesting angle to my film,” test subject seventy-eight informed Larissa as he lifted his phone and aimed the camera lens in her direction. Ah yes, this volunteer was the California documentary filmmaker. “Please confess to the world how PharmaTest kidnaps patients and holds them here at the testing center in Dallas, Texas, against their will.”

“Yeah,” the pretty brunette at his side cheered him on. Were they together now? Already?

Larissa had distributed the testing dose to each of them less than an hour ago. How were people coupling up? They should be in deep REM by now, in that dreamless sleep of the fully medicated.

But the filmmaker’s threat hung heavy in the air. A sudden wave of panic struck her in the stomach. Larissa was no social-media dummy. This video would go viral. In less than a second, her Twitter handle would spread from one tweet to the next, followed by the public shaming and embarrassing meme, finally culminating in job loss. If she was lucky.

She plastered on a smile and lowered her arms. “Of course I’m not trying to kidnap you. I have some tea, or perhaps you’d prefer some flavored water? Let’s go to the lounge and you can choose. It’s all part of the compensation for your time. As well as the money you’re being paid as a volunteer test subject.”

“You can keep the forty bucks,” offered the firefighter from Colorado.

That man was delicious, all rugged and well-honed muscles. Not exactly her type, though. Larissa’s weakness was the smart-with-glasses, quiet, sciencey type, like Dr. Mitch Durant. He was the head researcher on this study and the reason she’d stuck around on a job for which the hours were from eight at night until seven in the morning, often screwing up her weekends.

The med student—uh...Stella Holbrook—hooked her hand around the firefighter’s arm. Wait, was this another quickie pairing? Had Dr. Mitch tweaked with the formula again? Added some kind of hooking-up pheromone? Not that she blamed the woman for being intrigued with the firefighter, but c’mon, ladies and gents. This was an experimental drug test, not the club.

Larissa couldn’t just let them leave, could she?

Of course, the four of them were all adults. They could make their own choices. But more importantly, they’d all been required to sign waivers releasing PharmaTest from any liability. Larissa would never have distributed the meds without double-checking to make sure that important detail had been taken care of.

But her dilemma wasn’t just the patients’ well-being. Dr. Durant’s research was important, not just to the man who’d put every bit of himself and his career into developing HB121, but also to the potential pain it would prevent for the hurt and wounded of the world, allowing doctors to give life-saving aid. How many times had Dr. Mitch gifted her with the smile that reached all the way to his dark eyes and told her how important she was to his team? Even now a tiny little thrill inched its way down her vertebrae at the memory. Larissa had to fix this situation for him. Now.

Clearly the pacifying approach wasn’t working. The four looked like they’d rush her at any moment. And they’d win. At five foot two, she’d always been shorter than everyone else on the playground. She’d hated Red Rover.

Maybe a play on their altruistic side would do the trick. “This research is important. All of you wanted to do something to further this study. To help people. By leaving now, you’re changing the sample. That will make the conclusions and results suspect.”

“You said we should be sleeping, right?” the med student asked, a line forming between her brows.

“The drug is designed so that the patient can answer questions if needed or even respond to stimuli and move if in danger, but yes, for the most part, the injured is unconscious.” Larissa nodded, a wave of relief allowing her to breathe again. She was getting through. Finally. At least to the med student. Maybe if Larissa could get her to understand, then the soon-to-be Dr. Holbrook would help to convince the others to stay until their portion of the study was completed in the morning.

“Then, since we’re not asleep, we must be in the control group that got a placebo,” the future doc said, the line on her forehead gone and a smile on her lips.

Subject thirty-five nodded. “I’ve done enough drug trials to know that’s true. I think we can go without changing the end results. You can keep my money, too.”

“What if you’re not in the control group? Please listen to me. This medication is designed to take away fear and panic. Think about it. Are you acting rationally? You’d planned to stay the night as test subjects, and suddenly you want to leave...” Larissa let her words trail off so the significance of what she was saying would sink in with the four of them.

“We’re leaving because this place blows.”

“Big time.”

“I’m ready to do something fun for a change.”

Their words came at her fast and furious. She’d lost. Larissa’s shoulders slumped.

In the future she’d probably end the retelling of this story with, “And that’s how I lost my job...”

And how she lost the man she so, so wanted to see naked. Just once.

But she could still protect him and his research. She owed Dr. Durant that. The kind of people who gave research grants tended to shy away from scandal, and Mitch needed the funding to continue with his work.

“I’m going to ask you to sign something, stating you are leaving the study early and on your own. That you don’t hold me or PharmaTest liable and you don’t expect to be compensated for your time.”

“Why?” the filmmaker asked.

“Because, Mr. Garcia, one of the side effects is short-term memory loss. Usually for twenty-four hours. Still interested in leaving?”

“Oh, we’re leaving,” Mr. Garcia said, and the others nodded.

1

STELLA RAN OUT into the night, Owen right beside her. Hayden and Tony were close on their heels. “I thought that lady was never going to let us leave,” she said as they slowed outside the PharmaTest front door.

“Good idea about the camera, Tony,” Hayden told him, her smile wide in the fading daylight.

The man fell deeper under her spell, not that he appeared to want to stop himself. “That will be the last time I walk into someplace on the spur of the moment. But then, if I hadn’t, I wouldn’t be here with you now. And that’s something I would regret,” he told her, his voice soft and intimate.

Normally something that sweet would make Stella give a mock shudder and say something snarky, like “bring out the chips for that cheese.” But one look at the tender and serious expression on Tony’s face, and anyone could see he meant exactly what he’d said. It was charming how this tough guy caught her off guard and slipped under her defenses.

Hayden’s whole body angled toward Tony. Oh, yeah, she was a goner.

Stella’s gaze slid away from the couple and smacked straight into Owen’s. His intent hazel eyes were focused solely on her, and Stella’s breath stilled. Everything stilled. Hayden’s and Tony’s soft words faded, the strong Texas wind dwindled, and it was just the two of them, searching for something in each other’s eyes.

Okay, sure, those were some pretty over-the-top observations, but this was a very over-the-top moment for her. As a medical student, she worked in fact and science. Feelings rarely counted. They couldn’t. But tonight, she wanted to let emotions and feelings and passion blow right past sensibility. She could allow herself that. For tonight.

Only two steps separated her from the wall of his chest. She took those two steps in a heady rush, lifted herself on her toes and brushed her lips across his. Soft and quick. Once. Twice. Testing the waters.

Her heels hit the pavement, and she stared at Owen for a moment.

Plunge right in. The water’s fine.

She lifted on the tips of her toes again, ready to explore this sexy man fully. His hands circled around her hips, and his head lowered—

“Let’s get out of here before clipboard lady comes back,” Tony interrupted. “I’ll pull my car around.”

“That was just getting interesting,” Owen said, and smiled down at her, his gaze straying to her lips for a brief second, then returning to her eyes.

She met his smile and nodded.

He lifted a brow. “You want to get out of here? Actually, wait here. I’ll go with Tony to get his car. If you change your mind and you’re gone when we come back, I’ll understand. But—”

Owen interrupted his own words by lowering his head and settling his lips on hers. Whereas her kisses had been quick explorations, his kiss was all about sweet persuasion. He traced her upper lip with his tongue, then gently tugged her lower lip into the warmth of his mouth.

She was ready for something more. So much more.

He cupped her cheeks with his hands and slid his tongue into her mouth. Owen urged her to meet his kiss with equal passion, and by his slow, anguished groan, she accomplished just that. His heat surrounded her. His woodsy scent filled her nose. Her nipples hardened and puckered against the soft silk of her bra.

“C’mon, Owen,” Tony called.

“I hope you’re here when I come back,” he whispered against her lips, and then he was walking away from her.

She wasn’t usually the kind of lady to ogle a guy’s backside. To her, a body wasn’t something to gawk at but to examine and study and, on good days, to be amazed by. She loved learning about all the wonderful and incredible things the human body could accomplish, from bringing forth new life to running a marathon to overcoming invasive surgery and disease. Really, a leg was a leg and a chest was a chest.

But with Owen, it was different. She could appreciate the tight package of his ass. Or the roped, caged strength of his arms as he’d held her. And Stella had to laugh at herself because she wanted to examine Owen, all right, just not in the medical sense. Cue the jokes about playing doctor. She raised her arms above her head and spun, laughing and squeezing her eyes shut tight. The heavy night air welcomed her.

“Are you actually...twirling?” Hayden asked her.

Stella slowed until she was just moving with a slight sway and glanced over to her fellow escapee. Hayden, also known as her new best friend, frowned at her.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been happy enough to twirl. Or spin. At least not since I was six. That’s kind of sad. What happens to us that we don’t want to spin anymore?”

Hayden shrugged. “Life, I guess. I was kind of judgey about your spinning a second ago, but now I’m going to join you because we should spin.”

And for one perfect moment, they circled in the parking lot, laughing and reconnecting to their six-year-old selves who’d thought—no, knew—that twirling was perfectly acceptable. Even preferred.

“I’m getting a little dizzy,” Stella said. She planted her feet on the concrete until the world around her slowed. Adulthood always snuck in somehow.

“I can’t believe I left the study like that. I have always, always done what I was supposed to do,” Hayden confided.

“Good for you, then. In fact, you should keep breaking the rules tonight.”

“What?” Tony said from behind them. His navy sports car was parked on the street. Owen unfolded his tall frame from the passenger seat and smiled at her. Yep, an onslaught of goofy responses predictably followed.

“Tonight Hayden should do everything she’s not supposed to.” Tony lifted a brow, acute interest practically radiating from the man. She was happy for her friend that this cute guy was so into her. Tony laced Hayden’s fingers through his.

“Cool car. Does the top go down?” she asked as the two of them walked together toward his car.

“And what about you?” Owen asked Stella. “What do you want to do tonight?”

Her skin prickled and sweat broke out on the back of her neck. So this delicious warmth spreading through her was what it felt like. Because if she wasn’t mistaken, at this very moment, Stella was the subject of some acute male interest, too. And while Tony was great and all, there was a recklessness about Owen, the kind of wink-at-danger swagger and bring-it-on attitude that made her sit up straight and say “yes, please.”

Factor in his sinfully sexy smile and perfectly muscled body, and she was a goner.

You. I want to do you. But it was more than that...

“Tonight I’m living life,” she stated. “I’m not going to watch it from the sidelines. I’m going to grab it, feel it and give it a good shake. You see, right now I want to kiss you again, and that’s something I never would have done before, and I certainly never would have told you about it. Because kissing a man can lead to way too many feelings and emotions, and I have to keep that kind of stuff contained in order to succeed.”

“Who told you that?” he challenged.

“Learned it from the best—my parents. I’ve seen way too many people alter their perfectly arranged paths because of sex and relationships. But not me. Never me. My plans—degree, med school, ER, end of story.”

“So what do you do when something, or someone, threatens all that perfect planning?” His fingers traced down her arm, diverting her train of thought.

“I slow it down and console myself that if it’s meant to be, it will be. Only later.” Stella held her breath for a moment. Swallowed. “But with you, I want to make it be. Right. Now.”

He crooked his elbow toward her. “Coming with me, then?”

“Absolutely.”

Arm-in-arm, they dove into the backseat of Tony’s car like two stars escaping from the paparazzi. She wound up across his lap, her legs tangled with his. And as the sun set outside their window and the dark enveloped them, she twined her fingers behind Owen’s neck and his lips found hers.

“Tony, that’s it,” Hayden said from the front seat.

Owen’s lips left hers before their lip-lock could really get started. He kissed her temple instead. “Didn’t take long for them to interrupt. What was that, fifteen seconds?” He grumbled against the sensitive skin of her neck and she giggled.

“Shorter.” Too short. Stella straightened in the seat and pushed what had to be her very unruly hair from her face. She glanced out the window to find out what Hayden was so excited about. “What’s it?” she finally asked, because all she saw were nondescript office buildings and parking lots.

“The first thing I’m not supposed to do,” Hayden said, pointing to her right.

Tony slowed and angled the car in front of a long aluminum building with a you-could-see-it-from-anywhere neon sign of a roller skate, flashing in bright green and blue. How had Stella missed that blinding splash of color?

“You’re not supposed to roller-skate?” she asked. Stella could come up with half a dozen medical reasons a young woman of reasonable health shouldn’t skate, but none of them visibly applied to Hayden.

“Well, it was a long time ago, but my grandparents had some definite ideas of the kind of trouble a girl could get herself into in the darkened corners of a roller rink.”

Now that made sense. “All my preteen angst just came flooding back,” Stella admitted, awash in fond memories. When makeup was experimental (and forbidden) and her best friend had taught her how to practice kissing on her hand at a slumber party. Everything had seemed so important and boys too complicated.

Actually, not much had changed. Well, except for tonight. This thing with Owen felt anything but complicated, and the only important plan was to live this night fully.

“Girls used to whisper and brag how they made out at the roller rink at school,” Hayden confided, her tone a little wistful. She opened the door, and the overhead light popped on, making her blink.

Tony lifted a brow. “You didn’t?” he asked her.

She rolled her eyes. “As if my grandparents would ever have permitted that.”

He rushed around the car and met her at the door, offering his hand to her like a gallant knight. “Allow me to change that.”

“Absolutely,” she said, and reached her fingers toward his.

“What about you, Stella? Was kissing at the rink part of your education?” Owen asked as they scrambled out of the car to stand on the sidewalk.

“Maybe,” she hedged.

Actually, it hadn’t. At a party, she’d been dared to kiss the guy she’d been crushing on and she’d planted the worst kiss in the history of worst kisses on the guy. She’d missed his lips and managed to swipe the side of his nose instead. He’d rolled away to laugh about her with his friends, and she’d ended up borrowing a stranger’s phone to call her mom to pick her up from the party early. That was Stella’s first official lesson in keeping her emotions to herself, and boys at a distance.

Beside her, Owen crooked his elbow in a gentlemanly move that she was beginning to recognize as his signature. “Let’s make it not a maybe,” he said.

But maybe she could forget that lesson. At least for the night. With a nod, she hooked her arm through his and they walked inside together. She kind of enjoyed this linking elbows thing they had going. As if they were a team ready to face danger or fun together. Probably both.

The familiar scents of perfume and cologne and the oil used on the wooden floor of the roller rink made her stomach clench for a moment. Her most embarrassing experience had happened at a place just like this, and she preferred not to dwell on emotions that brought her down. The roller rink had never figured into any of her plans past the age of fourteen.

But she also smelled beer and gourmet pretzels. Patrons leaned against the railing surrounding the rink while sipping on martinis and gin and tonics, not sodas and fruit punch. Owen wasn’t some teenage boy interested in looking cool to his friends. And Stella definitely knew how to kiss a man now. Besides, she was all about living life tonight, not avoiding it. Roller-skating it was.

They joined Tony and Hayden in the lobby of the rink, where the pair was waiting in line.

Hayden greeted her with a smile. “Stella, it’s adult skate night. It’s like this night was tailor-made for us.”

Tony pulled out his cell phone and they laughed and posed for selfies.

“This light is doing weird things to your hair,” Hayden said. “First pink. Then blue.”

Stella fluffed her curly locks. “Try to catch one when I look blond.”

Finally it was their turn at the register. The guys paid the admission, and the four of them exchanged shoes for skates.

The music pumped, a combination of disco from the seventies, new wave from the eighties and bubblegum pop from the nineties. Their skin was awash in silver patterns from the mirrored balls above their heads and the pulsing strobe lights suspended from the ceiling.

They sat on one of the long carpeted benches that lined the skating area and put on their skates. Hayden and Tony quickly laced up, but Stella’s pace was slower so she could take this night all in. She didn’t allow herself to break out of her self-restraint that often, so she wanted to really live this moment—the sound of the music and the laughing couples around them, the thump of the bass beneath her socked feet and the steady warmth of Owen’s shoulder as he sat beside her.

Hayden gave her a wink as they skated off, and in moments Stella lost the other couple in the crowd on the hardwood roller floor.

Owen didn’t seem to be in much of a hurry, either. She snuck a peek at his profile. He looked pensive. “Everything okay?” she asked over the din of the music.

He angled toward her and flashed her that amazing smile of his. The one she’d first noticed in the PharmaTest waiting room when it had triggered some secret little voice inside her mind that said exactly.

“I’m thinking that the moment I get out on that floor in my skates, any chance of looking cool and impressing the lady I want is definitely out.”

Stella couldn’t help but laugh. This sexy hunk of a man wanted to impress her, and that made something inside her go all gooey toward him.

The prospect of her carefully honed defenses crumbling should have scared the hell out of her. Her parents had insisted she’d need a tough shell in order to have a life as an ER doctor, so she’d guarded herself from emotion for as long as she could remember.

But tonight she craved more. Her usual choice of guy leaned to the nerdier type—the kind of man who didn’t worry so much about appearing cool because he was so far away from that descriptor anyway.

With his wide shoulders and strong arms, Owen probably played sports. His easy confidence around her—and, well, everyone—suggested he was the guy who’d always been invited to the popular parties in high school. The kind of guy who saw through girls like her. But not tonight. Owen wanted her, and he wasn’t afraid of saying it or showing it.

Maybe he deserved some honesty from her. “But if you don’t go out on that floor, how will I ever be able to pretend to fall so that you can catch me?” she asked.

The smile dropped from his lips, and in a flash of strobe lighting she caught the intensity of his gaze. Just for a moment. Then the light moved and he was concealed once more.

His thumb stroked the back of her hand and tiny shivers spread through her fingers and down her arm. Imagine what she’d feel if that thumb stroked other needy places on her body? And that naughty little thought brought on a full body quake.

“What was that fantasy about darkened corners Hayden mentioned?”

Stella swiveled on the bench, searching for someplace private where she could replace her teenage roller-skating failure with a warm memory of kissing the hunky guy. Finally. The kind of memory she could think about while on those rough twelve-hour shifts that awaited her in the emergency room.

Another beam of light flashed across his face, and she caught a teasing glint in his eyes. He leaned in to whisper in her ear. “Just to warn you, I’m about to throw down the worst line. Ready?”

Was she? Absolut— Wait a minute, don’t just sit there and passively let this smooth, gorgeous man lay down the moves. This is your night to live. Live it. She gave him the side eye. “It’s not the one about guessing the material of your shirt and it turns out to be boyfriend material, is it?”

He scratched at his chin. “That’s pretty good, and by good I mean terrible. But actually, I can do worse. Much worse,” he assured her.

She pretended to shake out her muscles and roll her shoulders like a swimmer readying for the block. “Okay, I’m ready.”

“When I saw you at PharmaTest earlier tonight, I knew there was no way I’d leave before finding out if your personality was as amazing as your smile.”

Her mouth dried, and she had a hard time swallowing for a moment. “That really wasn’t a bad line,” she confessed, her words rushing out on an abrupt exhalation. She’d expected some kind of teasing comment, and instead he’d dropped the mother of all flirtbombs.

“Worth that darkened corner?” he asked.

The skates slipped from her fingers as she stood. “Oh, yeah. I spotted one, right there by the lockers.” Although truth be told, he didn’t need a line. Stella had wanted to kiss Owen since he’d caught her eye when they’d been filling out the paperwork at PharmaTest. Surely he knew that.

Her heartbeat pounded as they threaded between the people around the rink, seeking the dim nook she’d discovered earlier, perfect for making out. All their other kisses had been spontaneous, moments of daring with no forethought at all. But this next kiss would be deliberate and purposeful. And because of that, this moment felt more important.

She pulled him into the corner and leaned against the smooth wall of painted cinderblock, the coolness seeping into her overheated skin through the thin layer of her shirt. Owen braced his weight on his arm above her head. His gaze moved to her mouth, and a half smile flickered on his lips that quickly changed to an intense hunger.

Yes. She wanted to feel that. Exactly that. He gently stroked her lower lip with his thumb, and her eyes drifted shut for a moment so she could savor how he made her respond. Her blood heated in her veins and anticipation rushed through her. She drew the tip of his thumb into her mouth and he groaned. The harsh sound made her body tremble.

Never had she responded to a man like this. Never had her body craved a man’s caress on her skin so much. Stella hungered for his mouth, his taste.

“I feel like I’m losing my mind over you.”

The raw wonder in his voice triggered a deep yearning inside her. Her knees grew a little shaky and warmth flooded between her legs.

“You’re not the only one,” she admitted, her voice unsteady, and he graced her with that brief half smile again.

Stella reached for him. Her fingers curled into the muscles of his shoulders and urged him closer. He lowered his mouth to hers. It was the barest of strokes, and yet she shivered from that too-slight caress. She breathed in his intoxicating scent as her eyes closed. She locked her hands behind Owen’s neck, his short hair tickling the backs of her fingers. He continued his sensual light exploration of her mouth then finally his tongue traced the seam of her lips.

Stella gasped at the sweet sensation, and then his tongue twined with hers. Exactly.

If fourteen-year-old her had experienced the worst lip-lock at a place like this, the twenty-five-year-old Stella was wiping that memory away for good with this incredible, mind-boggling kiss. This time her lips found their target and she pressed her body against the strength of his chest, her nipples tingling inside the restrictive cups of her bra. She breathed and tasted and felt only Owen. Reveled in the sensations spiraling and building inside her.

A shrill whistle sounded near her ear. And not the silly, exaggerated I-caught-you-making-out kind of whistle. But the teacher-telling-you-to-stop-throwing-dirt-on-the-playground screech that sent a wave of panic through her system even now that she was an adult. Stella broke her kiss-tender lips from his and forced her eyes open.

She had to squint and blink a few times before the picture in front of her eyes righted itself. A man sporting a black-and-white-striped referee shirt skated toward them and waved his hands. The suspect whistle hung around his neck, suspended from a lanyard.

He slid to a stop beside them. “You can’t do that in here. This is a family place.” He emphasized the word with a disgusted shake of his hand.

“It’s adult skate night,” Owen said after glancing around to confirm that no children had magically appeared in the rink. They’d shared a harmless kiss in the shadows of a darkened corner.

“This isn’t my first lap around the rink,” the referee said. “I know what comes next.”

Yeah, she did, too. Not that either of them would have indulged in such a public place. Then again, how long before her hands found that sweet curve of his ass? Or his fingers toyed with her nipples? Her breasts grew heavy at just the thought of him palming her so intimately.

“Uh, Owen. I don’t want to skate anymore.”

His gaze lowered to hers, his eyes searching in the dark. He must have sensed the sexual cravings that battered her senses, because his spine abruptly straightened and he cleared his throat. Twice.

“Neither do I.” His voice was a whispered promise, and a shiver shimmied between her shoulder blades and settled in the small of her back. Then he focused his attention to the ref. “Sorry if we disturbed anyone. We’re leaving.”

Yeah, she couldn’t wait to be alone with this sexy man. Owen laced his fingers through hers and they moved away, the echo of the ref’s wheels on the floor sounding behind them as he returned to the rink. “Hate adult skate,” he mumbled.

“Tony,” Owen called, finding Tony and Hayden nearly hidden by a row of lockers a few rows away from them.

“Careful, you two,” Stella teased. “There’s a no-kissing policy here.”

“Found that out a moment ago ourselves,” Hayden told her, smiling.

“We’re going to exchange our shoes,” Tony said, and Owen winked at Stella before he left, causing a shaft of awareness down her back.

Beside her, Hayden seemed to be experiencing her own struggles because the woman couldn’t focus on anything but Tony’s backside as the two men walked away.

“Good for you,” Stella told her.

Hayden nodded. “Yeah, it is good. I’ve been working so hard lately, I needed a bit of distraction,” she confessed, her gaze once again straying over to Tony.

“I know what you mean. Everyone always says how rough the third year of med school is on a person, but I guess I hadn’t realized just how much of a toll it was taking on me until tonight, when I finally relaxed. I don’t think the tension has left my body in two and a half years.”

“Well, tonight I plan to get all tense, then relax. Then tense all up again.” Hayden wiped a hand over her face. “Oh, I make such terrible jokes sometimes.”

But the two of them began to laugh. Hell, Stella had just been discovered making out like an errant teenager at a school dance, but instead of feeling mortified, she was giggling with a near stranger, and it felt great. Really great.

Tony reached for Hayden’s hand just as Owen draped an arm around her shoulders. And that felt even better.

“I don’t know whether to be relieved or frightened to find two women laughing,” Owen teased.

“Oh, it’s both,” Stella assured him, trying to insert every sexy tone she’d ever heard in a movie straight into her voice.

Must have worked, because the smile faded from Owen’s face. “See you guys later,” he said, not even bothering to look away from her to address Hayden and Tony.

Hayden gave her the thumbs-up.

After stopping only to put on their shoes, they fled the rink like two teenagers who’d snuck out of the house without being caught. The cool night air caressed her skin as they stepped outside.

“You don’t mind walking back to the car instead of waiting on Tony and Hayden? I doubt we got too far from PharmaTest.”

But who was to know since they’d spent the entire ride in the backseat in each other’s arms? Stella shook her head; a little night air would do her good.

“How’d you end up at PharmaTest?” he asked, matching the length of his stride to hers as they walked. He draped his arm around her shoulders again; the heat from his body warmed her.

“I volunteer for a lot of medical studies, or at least I used to. I’m in med school now, so I don’t have much time. But since it’s fall break and this was an overnight trial, I thought I could fit it in. What about you?” she asked.

“I knew someone.”

That’s all he needed to say. At some point in his life, Owen had lost a friend. It struck her as something special that he cared enough to try to make sure others did make it to see another day. “That’s the real reason doctors do what we do. To help others.”

This wasn’t just a guy she could take to bed and leave all emotion behind. Owen was a man she could actually like. Which made him not the best candidate for a one-off night of ecstasy, but she wasn’t backing away now. Owen was the man she wanted.

“Where to?” he asked when they were alone in the PharmaTest parking lot. He’d been right; they had traveled only a few blocks in Tony’s sports car. “You want to find someplace else to go? Wanna grab something to eat?”

But Stella didn’t want to talk or think. “What do you want to do?” she asked, knowing he wasn’t the kind of man for delay tactics. He’d made it clear he wanted her, and right now she wanted to hear it. Again.

He gifted her with that sexy half smile again. “I don’t care what we do. Or where we go. I just want to be with you.”

Exactly. She just wanted to kiss this gorgeous, sexy man again and again. She sank her fingers into the short hair behind his neck and urged his lips toward hers.

Not much urging was required. With a groan, his lips once again settled against hers. “I’ve thought of nothing else since spotting you at this place,” he admitted against her mouth. Then his tongue slipped inside her mouth and along her tongue and she was done. Done in. Done for. Exactly what the doctor ordered.

Seriously? What the doctor ordered? Had she just made that crack in her head? So Hayden wasn’t the only one who could make bad jokes.

Time to get serious. “Your place close?” she asked between kisses.

He cupped her face, stroking her cheeks with the pads of his thumbs. His eyes were heavy-lidded with desire, his hazel eyes almost brown. “I don’t live in Dallas. I’m only here a few days, visiting for my grandmother’s birthday, and the place is too crowded. You?”

She shook her head. “Same. I have three roommates.”

“I want to be alone with you,” he said, the warmth of his breath teasing her temple.

Had this guy actually made her shiver with just a few whispered words? Him. Exactly.

“Alone with you sounds about perfect.”

His eyes squeezed shut for a moment, and a small smile played along his lips. Had he doubted how much she wanted him? Well, yeah, probably, because when did this kind of devastating instawant actually happen? His show of relief made warmth spread throughout her body.

His hazel eyes opened and his smile widened. For her. “It’s been a while since I’ve been in Dallas, but I think there’s a hotel not far from here.”

Stella nodded. “I know the one. By the park.”

“My car’s that way,” he told her, pointing toward a battered truck with Colorado plates. They raced together toward his car.

The hotel was far swankier than she’d remembered. A landmark boutique hotel in the Dallas area, it had a lush art-deco lobby, complete with a large crackling fire. The rubber soles of her shoes didn’t do justice to the sleek hardwood floors beneath them, set in striking geometric designs. Chevron-patterned wallpaper lined the walls. Thick, luxurious drapes in gold and burgundy flanked the deep-set bay windows, many of them displaying stained glass that she would have loved to inspect—if she weren’t with the world’s sexiest man.

Everything about the place screamed luxury and expense. Except a place like this didn’t scream. Never anything that crass. This was the hotel that enforced a dress code, and while Owen looked amazing in his jeans and casual polo shirt, his clothes were not fit for the Market Gardens hotel. Or hers.

But Owen kept walking to the ornately carved wooden desk that was less like a check-in counter and more like the kind of thing a millionaire shipping tycoon—no, a billionaire investment banker—kicked up her stilettos on.

“Welcome to the Market Gardens. What name is your reservation under?” the friendly yet cool clerk asked them. In a suit and tie, he looked exactly like the kind of man who could hold his own against the wealthily entitled of the world as well as two people who’d just walked in off the street on a whim.

Stella bit back a laugh. They’d not thought this hotel plan through. Of course the Market Gardens required reservations. She began to turn away.

But Owen played it cool as well, which probably wasn’t a stretch for him. “No reservation. What do you have available?”

The smile faded from the clerk’s face. “We’re usually booked up several weeks in advance.”

They must look like exactly what they were—two people up for a little spontaneous rendezvous. Even that was too generous. Sex. They were down for some hot and dirty sex.

“We’re only interested in tonight,” Owen continued.

With lips pursed, the clerk toggled the mouse and woke up the computer discreetly hidden beneath a carved wood panel.

“Would you prefer a courtyard view?” he asked. “I have a suite.”

Her shoulders stiffened in alarm. A courtyard view in this place must cost a fortune. “That’s okay—”

“Absolutely,” Owen said, and slid his credit card toward the reservationist.

“You’ll be in one of our tower rooms, second floor.” With a few clicks of the mouse and a swipe of the card, the transaction was complete. The clerk slid over a leather case containing their key cards.

Wow. Even the fanciest hotel she’d ever stayed at had only presented her with a folded-over piece of cardstock with the plastic key card stuffed inside.

The clerk signaled for the bellhop. A young man sporting a gray blazer trimmed with gold at the cuff and neck quickly appeared, friendly smile in place.

“We don’t have any luggage,” Owen informed them without a trace of embarrassment, even though she felt the heat of a blush in her cheeks.

“Of course, sir,” the clerk responded coolly, unfazed.

Why should she even care? She was here to live her life before her job took it over again after this quick break.

“Actually, I do have a duffel bag inside my truck. I’ll be right back.”

No way was he leaving her here alone in the lobby of snobs. Stella quickly followed on his heels.

He’d mentioned earlier that he’d wanted to impress her. She didn’t want him to face an ugly credit card bill to do it. “Owen, this place has got to be way too much money.”

“It’s on me,” he told her and fished out the keys to his truck. A large black duffel bag rested on the backseat, and he picked it up and swung it up over his shoulder.

Stella had grown up with two working doctors for parents, so money had never been tight, but rash expensive impulses weren’t something they’d ever indulged in. She didn’t want Owen to feel as if she expected it. “I just don’t want you to think you have to spend a lot of money on me. Maybe they have another roo—”

He gripped her by the shoulders. “Stella, it’s done. The only excuse my parents would accept for me not staying with them is that I’m at the Market Gardens. Besides, we’re living life,” he told her, then stifled any further protest with a kiss.

Living life in a swanky hotel with the world’s sexiest guy...why was she complaining again? He crooked his elbow to her in the habit of his that she was really beginning to like.

“The elevator is right this way,” the bellman informed them as they entered. They followed him into one of the elevators. She met Owen’s gaze on the short trip to the second floor. Heat and desire emanated from his gaze. It was amazing to be wanted so desperately.

The bell dinged above their heads but didn’t break the spell between them. With each step toward their room, her body ached more and more with yearning. She needed this man’s hands on her skin. His lips teasing her nipples. His fingers between her legs.

The bellman swept the door wide, and she gasped at the lavish room. She’d heard the word suite when the clerk had confirmed the reservation, but Owen had booked a Suite with a capital S.

A beautiful sitting area beckoned them to indulge in luxury. A small two-person dinette waited for them in the corner, decorated with a vase of fresh Texas wildflowers. Her feet sank into the thick carpet, but she forced herself not to rush toward the bedroom. Slow and steady steps would get her there just the same.

Owen tipped the bellman and followed her into the bedroom.

“Is there a bigger bed size than king?” she asked. “I think an entire family could sleep on this—”

He cut off her musings by tracing the curve of her ear with his tongue. Her eyes drifted shut and she leaned against him. Her back fit perfectly against his chest.

His hands moved to cup her breasts as he weaved a lazy path down the side of her neck with his mouth and lips. She sucked in a breath and ground her backside into his cock, which was already hard and thick in his jeans.

She steadied herself against his thighs, stroking and learning the lines of his muscled legs. Was there a part of this man that wasn’t sexy? His fingers found the buttons of her shirt, but he was too slow.

“Just yank.” Her voice was almost a growl; she needed this man’s hands on her breasts.

Buttons flew with one quick pull and he smoothed the shirt from her shoulders. He tugged her bra up, exposing her breasts. Her nipples puckered from the abrupt change in temperature and the anticipation. Then his hands cupped her breasts, warming and shaping and molding them. She moaned deep in her throat.

“You feel perfect in my hands. I want to taste you.”

But her knees would have given out from that kind of pleasure. “I’ll race you to the bed,” she challenged and dove onto the ginormous king-size mattress. Stella grabbed the covers and yanked them back. “Mmm, triple sheeting. Nice.”

“Only the best,” he told her, his gaze tender and warm and sexy as hell.

She cupped his face. “I’ll remember this forever.”

He dipped his head. “Then let’s continue making those memories.” His lips found an über-sensitive spot beneath her ear. She sucked in his scent and this experience. She never wanted to forget this crazy night.

“What if that lady was right?” she asked. Alarm jerked though her body.

“What lady?” he asked, trailing his tongue down the column of her throat.

Moisture pooled between her thighs in response, but she couldn’t force the warning away. “The lady at PharmaTest. She said we wouldn’t remember tonight.”

He lifted his head. A tiny line formed between his brows. Then he shook his head. “You said it yourself. Control group. We must have gotten the placebos. Everyone in that place was asleep but the four of us.” Owen stared her square in the eyes and smiled. “Besides, there’s no way I’m forgetting this. I mean, c’mon, you’re...amazing.”

And now heat pooled somewhere in the vicinity of her heart. No man had ever looked at her like Owen was at this very moment and told her she was amazing. The tension left her shoulders, and she urged him toward her. “You’re right. I’d never forget you. How could I? I’ve never done anything even remotely like this.”

“This is a first for me, too. You’re a first,” he said as he returned his lips to her skin, this time kissing along her collarbone.

Her lids drifted shut as a wave of sensation slid along her nerve endings. “You feel so good.”

“Just wait,” he whispered against the swell of her breast. “I’m going to make you feel a lot better.”

He lowered his head and sighed.

But that nagging doubt wouldn’t completely wane. Some cautions were just too ingrained. Had lived inside her soul for too long. Owen sighed again, but this time not from pleasure. “You’re still worried,” he said.

“How could you tell?”

He made a face that said don’t be ridiculous.

“I just can’t imagine how weird it would be to wake up and not remember a thing. I don’t want to start all over again with you. I want to wake up and be exactly where I am right now,” she told him, wiggling her hips against his. He groaned.

“I have an idea. Hotels always have notepads and paper. We’ll write notes to ourselves, just in case.”

“Good idea.”

She scrambled off the bed in search of paper and pens, pausing only long enough to twist back into her bra and slide her shirt over her arms. Living in the moment was one thing. Doing it topless while a sexy man gazed upon you was quite another. Too unnerving. More like too distracting. She needed to keep her emotions battened down tight just a little bit longer.

A few minutes later she sat at the dinette, trying to decide what to write.

Dear Stella,

Okay, really? That was just pathetic.

In case you don’t remember last night, let me just tell you that you are one lucky woman. Lucky because you get to discover all over again what a great kisser Owen is. In fact, he is everything you’d want in a man. Besides sexy as hell, he’s adventurous, caring and clearly knows how to give you org—

Okay, so she didn’t know that yet, but c’mon. The man gave her the quakes and shivers just by licking her nipples.

Actually, maybe this whole note-to-herself thing was kind of dumb. Sure there were strange side effects with any medication, but twenty-four-hour memory loss would be...odd. Clearly the woman had been just trying to scare them, which, frankly, was very unethical.

But could Stella really blame her? The poor lady probably would have said anything to keep them from leaving. Stella owed PharmaTest, and specifically the unknown lady, a big apology. Thankfully she didn’t have to feel too guilty; drug testers used large pools of volunteers specifically because many people dropped out of studies for any number of reasons.

Across from her, Owen clicked his pen and placed it on the table. “Already done?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Didn’t need to say much.”

Was that a good thing?

“What did you write?” he asked, picking up the pen again and twirling it between his fingers.

She playfully held the note card to her chest. Was he nervous? Worried that she’d say something negative about him? That was kind of endearing and sweet. Of course, endearing and sweet didn’t guarantee him a peek at her letter. She stuffed it in her purse.

“What I wrote is a secret. Besides, I’d only gotten a few sentences in when I realized these notes might be a waste of time anyway. In fact, just to make this interesting...”

Stella reached for a new note card and wrote in large block letters:

DON’T TRUST TONY AND HAYDEN.

His brow furrowed for a moment. Then he laughed. Man, that was one sexy laugh. The kind that made shivers tingle down her spine. “Nice one. May I?”

She handed him the pen, his rough fingers sliding along hers. Had he done that on purpose just to touch her? He’d used a perfectly good pen moments ago when he’d written his own note card.

He scribbled something on a new note card.

She turned the note so she could read it. “Oh, you have terrible handwriting. And I’m the one who’s going to be a doctor.” Then she read:

Don’t trust anyone.

“We should make more and hide them around the room,” she suggested. They spent the next few minutes writing even more notes to themselves until all the paper was used. She laughed until her shoulders shook and she had to lean against the doorframe of the bedroom.

“We are either going to find this really funny or so dumb when we wake up in the morning,” he told her.

She felt the warmth of his breath and turned. When had he gotten so close? Stella gripped the hem of his polo shirt and tugged it up his chest. Owen helped her pop it over his head.

Shirtless beside her, Owen seemed so much more intimidating. His body was a finely tuned masterpiece of honed muscle. She traced the tattoo of a flame, ax and helmet on his bicep. His muscles tightened under the gentle exploration of her fingers.

“So you really are a firefighter.”

“You doubted me?”

“I can see guys making up having that job and using it to their advantage. Some women find firemen kind of hot.”

“The only woman I want to find it hot is you.”

“How often do you carry people fireman-style?” she asked, her fingers now following the tight pec muscles of his chest. He had to be strong to battle his way through walls and burning debris to save people who were frightened and suffering from smoke inhalation.

“It’s part of the training. Care for a demonstration?” he asked, his tone teasing.

“Absolutely.”

“There’s a price,” he warned, and he began to nuzzle the back of her neck.

“And your terms are?” Whatever it was, she doubted it would be too tough a debt to pay.

“What does your note card say about me?” he asked as he licked the column of her neck.

“Mmmmm.” Her knees trembled and she leaned against the tower of his body.

“Stella,” he prompted.

Wow. Was he actually apprehensive about what she’d told her future self about him? She planned to keep her ideas of his orgasm-inducing abilities to herself. “It’s no big deal what I wrote. We’re not really going to forget tonight, and writing them was just a waste of time. What did you write about me?” she challenged. No way would he show it to her.

But Owen dug the note card from his back pocket and handed it to her.

Whatever you do, don’t let Stella go without giving it a shot.

Her mouth dried. There were a lot of sexy things about Owen—the rich timbre of his voice, the muscled strength of his arms, his tight ass—but that note, his words...that was the most erotic thing she’d discovered about him so far.

She swallowed and turned to face him. “Well, that note’s not a waste of time.”

“And?”

She shook her head. “Still not going to see my card.”

He expression turned regretful. “And I so wanted to demonstrate my ability to hoist you over my shoulder.”

He stuck by his word and didn’t give in easily. She liked that about him. She liked everything about him.

“Do you believe in love at first sight?”

Owen’s eyes widened and he swallowed. “Uh...”

Stella choked back a laugh. “Don’t worry, I’m not about to profess something undying here. I’m not even sure I believe in instalove, but I do understand instalust, and man, oh, man, do I have that.”

Before she could fumble out another word, she was in his arms. Enveloped in lean male muscle and woodsy cologne and an ocean of want and need. Stella met his lips, her mouth opening for a kiss so hot and amazing her entire body yielded to desire.

He hooked his arm behind her knees and then swooped her into his arms. “I thought you weren’t going to carry me?” she teased, then sucked his earlobe into her mouth.

“This isn’t exactly a regulation procedure,” he told her.

He placed her on the soft comforter of the luxurious king-size bed and stretched out beside her. Then his mouth was on hers. Their previous kisses had been explorations, the teasing and tentative first kisses of new attraction. But now, Owen kissed her with hunger and passion and deep, deep need.

She rolled to her back and he settled between the V of her legs. She felt the hardness of his cock through her leggings and his jeans. In moments, he’d released the top buttons that hadn’t flown off her shirt when she’d ordered him to rip it apart. He shoved her bra out of his way and she moaned when his hands touched skin.

“I can’t wait to taste you. Taste all of you,” he groaned into the side of her neck.

Stella tried to sear that sexy, guttural sound into her memory so it could never escape. But that tiny, troubling doubt poked at her again. “It would be awful to not remember this.”

“We have the notes,” he reminded her, and his lips lowered to her nipple, drawing it into the warmth of his mouth and making her ache.

But she could potentially wake up next to a naked man with no idea who he was or how she got there. Disconcerting didn’t even describe that idea.

Stella squeezed her eyes shut. Ugh, all she wanted to do was enjoy this moment. To hold something so amazing and sensual in the vault of her mind so she could dust off the memory and relive it when she was deep into a shift and needed something to remind her that she was a living, breathing woman.

He circled her nipple with his tongue. This. Why couldn’t she just simply enjoy this? But uncertainty still prodded her. “No, I know me. I’d yell first and ask questions later. I’d grab my clothes and race from this hotel and try never to think about it again. Or what if you wake up first and decide to get the hell out? Waking up alone with no memory might actually be worse.”

“I wouldn’t run,” he assured her, then drew the tip of her nipple into his mouth again.

“Mmmmm.” What was she protesting about? Oh, yeah. “Sure, you say that now.”

He lifted his head and pinned her with his gaze. “If it makes you feel any better, I do have handcuffs in my duffel bag. We’d have to talk to each other. At least until I got them off.”

“Why would that make me feel better?”

“You’re worried I’ll be gone in the morning. I can’t leave if I’m handcuffed to you.”

A rush of satisfaction made her smile. “So you want to see me in the morning? Not that I’m judging you for hooking up or anything.” Could she stop herself from rambling? “I mean, clearly I’ve hooked up with you. It’s just that I’d like to think that it’s more.” Nope, she couldn’t stop the rambling. “Believe me, I understand. I’ve taken enough biology classes to understand the imperative to—”

The stubble on his cheek tickled her breasts as he skimmed up her body until they were nose to nose. His hazel eyes were dark once more. And serious. “Stella, I want to wake up in the morning with you. Order room service and have breakfast, then take you back to bed and stay here with you until we have to eat again.”

“You have a way of convincing a girl. So why do you have handcuffs in your bag? Is that part of your normal, um, repertoire? Not that I’m against them or anything, but I just need to rearrange my thinking a little bit. You know...in case.”

“It goes with being a firefighter. And did you just say ‘in case’?”

“I’m still a little confused. Are cuffs part of the job? I don’t really remember that on the tour of the fire station I took in the third grade.”

He rolled off her body and began to trace light patterns on her skin with his index finger. “Sometimes couples need help getting out of their restraints, so they call 911. Firefighters usually take those emergencies.”

“And this happens a lot?”

He shrugged. “Well, a lot more since that book came out. After your first restraint release, the other guys sort of gift you with a pair.”

“Like a ceremony?”

“More like, uh, friendly hazing.”

She held out her right hand. “Okay, cuff me.”

His finger stilled. “That’s the sexiest damn thing you’ve said. And you’ve said some damn sexy things.”

“Ha-ha. You’re getting cuffed, too, buddy.”

He scooted off the bed and then lifted her until he’d flung her over his shoulder. He carried her back into the sitting room.

“I thought you weren’t going to demonstrate the fireman hold until I showed you my note.”

“You complaining?”

As she had a pretty good view of his ass... “Nope.”

He placed her gently on her feet next to the small table where he’d dumped his duffel bag. She lowered her bra into place and refastened the top buttons.

“Why do you insist on ruining all my best work?” he asked. The metallic rip of the zipper sounded as he opened the bag, and she watched as he dug around neatly folded clothes and socks.

“Your best work?”

“I’ve had you nearly undressed twice now.” He tugged out a box of condoms.

“Good thinking,” she said as he handed them to her. Then she shrugged. “I don’t know. I feel I should be clothed if I’m getting handcuffed.”

“In our case, it’s the exact opposite.” He fumbled around until she heard the muffled sound of metal and he pulled out a pair of handcuffs. After zipping the bag closed, he placed the cuff around his wrist and clicked it in place.

“You went first.”

“A show of good faith,” he told her. “A gentleman always cuffs himself first. Milady?”

She lifted a brow. “That’s the official etiquette in this situation?”

He nodded. “If you’re uncomfortable...”

Stella took a breath and held her wrist out to him. Then pulled it back. “Wait. You’re sure you have the key in there? As much as I like this firefighter tradition, I’d just as soon not be the cause of someone else earning his cuffs.”

“Oh, the key’s in there. Besides, I’ve learned a few tricks on how to get out of restraints.”

“You know how to keep a woman intrigued.” She held out arm again and he fastened the cuff around her wrist. Then she looped an arm around his neck as best she could while handcuffed to the man.

His cock hardened against her thigh.

“Show me more,” she urged.

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