Ginny and Jared’s Story (For mature audiences only!)

officer hottie

There he was – Officer Hottie. My heart raced and I swiped my sweaty palm against my thigh. The man consistently starred in my dreams at night. It made it impossible to meet his eye in person, because I was sure he could read my mind as I recalled all the ways he seduced me in my dreams. I eyed his belt, which last night’s served as an anchor for my thighs as I rode him. He held me against the locker room door and bucked into me hard. In last week’s dream we used the bed in the physician’s lounge, he restrained me with medical tape and I woke up breathless and sweaty — and frustrated. Now I was embarrassed – I was afraid to look at the man, afraid that he would see how much I wanted him.

He was always polite to me. I saw him a few times a week while working in the ER, and each time I grew more silent in his presence. I studied the chart in front of me, the noises of the ER washing over me, helping the blush fade from my cheeks. If I focused on work I wouldn’t make a fool of myself. His low voice rumbled, his charge in cuffs needing medical attention before being sent to jail.

“Can you help me with this one, Ginny?”

Oh hell, the way he said my name made my knees melt. I looked up, setting the chart aside. I squared my shoulders and pretended he was any other guy. “How can I help?”

“BAC, and he’s complaining about his knee.” Officer Hottie said, one hand resting on the man’s wrists, handcuffed behind his back, the other pinched the man’s trapezius. It looked to be a painful and effective form of restraint. Images of his body covering mine, pinning me to the door flitted through my brain. His eyes widened a fraction. Oh god, what if he could read my mind?

“Let’s use room three.” I murmured and nodded with my chin. Officer Hottie led the way, probably more familiar with the ER layout than I. I was hired three months ago, and Officer Hottie had been there for years. Maybe… he had a face that was impossible to guess his age. Young with weathered skin or old with great skin… His grey eyes seemed old, knowledgeable, wise, even sad at times. His stance and physique were all alpha male, which was why I fantasized about him. He was the kind of man I was attracted to, but too afraid to do anything about it. I walked behind him, inhaling his scent hoping that I would have more fulfilling dreams.

His uniform hid his physique. The shirt was square and boxy; his pants too loose in the seat to tell if he had full high butt cheeks or tight sculpted ones. His chest was broad but hidden beneath a bullet proof vest. He buttoned up his shirt, a dark t-shirt peeking out, hiding what I dreamt was a strong chest with a sprinkling of hair. It was the man’s hands and wrists that really attracted me; wide, large, competent. They featured in my dreams; capable and strong. I imagined his hand on my throat, holding me still, my smaller hands wrapped around his wrists.

And this was why I didn’t date or get serious about a guy. I was too scared to indulge in sex I knew was risky. As a nurse, I knew the likely outcome. Women who looked for alpha males often ended up in abusive relationships. There was something wrong with me. My wants and desires for relationships were… different. It wasn’t pathologic, but clearly I fantasized about dangerous scenarios surrounding sex and so I avoided it. I figured I was a sex addict, and if I never indulged, it would never be an issue. Being completely introverted helped me ignore men, except him.

I fantasized about him every spare moment. It wasn’t just his appearance, although that was what first caught my attention. It was his presence, his aura. He commanded respect and in return dealt with everyone with patience. People genuinely liked him, tried to please him, and I felt the same.

He quickly removed one of the handcuffs and locked it on to the bed. I blinked away the image of him locking me the same way. Looking up he gave me a strange look and then his lips curved into a smile. Oh hell, he could read my mind.

My eyes fell to the floor and I shuffled to the wall, donned gloves and pulled the thermometer off the stand.

“May I take your temperature?” I asked the man smelling of bourbon and beer.

His lips cracked wide, revealing decayed teeth. Gross, meth-head and drunk. I shuddered at having to be so close to him.

Officer Hottie stood directly behind me. The patient’s eyes flicked up past my head and he flinched, his lips turning to a scowl. I quickly took his vitals, made notes and focused on what needed to be done. Not the eyes that were boring into the back of my head nor the heat his body radiated toward mine.

I pulled out a paper gown and addressed the patient. “Could you please take your pants off so the doctor can examine your knee?”

“Ya’ gonna help me?” He leered.

I raised an eyebrow and threatened, “I can cut them off.”

“Now why doyahaftobe…” his words slurred and he rattled his wrist.

“You have anything in your shoes other than socks and feet?” Officer Hottie asked. He moved to the foot of the bed to take off the man’s shoes.

“Nah, but I want her to do it,” the man groused and then yawned loudly.

I moved to his other side, reached for his hand, which he gave to me with a wormy smile. I then used the leather wrist restraint attached to the bed and strapped down his other wrist.

“Now it’s getting good,” he murmured, shifting his hips suggestively.

“Yeah, just wish they let me use the ball gag.” I muttered.

Officer Hottie chuckled, donned latex gloves, and quickly took off the man’s shoes, dropping them to the floor. I grabbed the paper gown and placed it over his legs.

I looked at the officer, “If you unbuckle and unzip, I’ll pull. Do me a favor and hold the gown up while I pull down.”

Officer Hottie grinned and said, “She speaks.”

I shrugged and offered him a quick smile. “Not often.”

“I noticed.” He murmured as he quickly undid the belt. I grabbed the ends of the man’s pants and yanked when the zipper was lowered.

“Jesus.” Officer Hottie murmured.

“Commando?” I asked.

“Yeah.”

“Figures.” I muttered.

The patient murmured, “I’m cold.”

I quickly looked at his calves, they were covered in scabs. I grabbed a blanket and tossed it over him, peeled off my gloves and washed my hands.

Officer Hottie joined me at the sink, standing close, very close. I focused on scrubbing between my fingers and then turned away, pulling paper towels from the dispenser and drying my hands. My eyes were studying the linoleum. Boots appeared and I stepped back and hit the counter.

If this were a dream, he’d lift me up… Light snores coming from the bed startled me from my thoughts.

“Ginny, are you afraid of me?” he whispered.

I shook my head and his hand moved under my chin. Oh God, if only he’d grab my ponytail…

“I’ll get Dr. Lambert.” I said as I scooted away.

The day wore on, more patients came in from a bus accident and I lost sight of Officer Hottie. I stayed busy, focusing on my job and not my fantasies. For a Friday, it was slow, but the constant stream of patients kept my mind off of him. By eleven that night I was pleasantly tired, happy to have my shift end, and ready for a hot shower and some sexy dreams.

I left through the back entrance of the hospital, the one closest to the parking garage. A police cruiser was parked next to the walkway. Officer Hottie opened the door and leaned against it smirking.

His long body stretched, his biceps bulging as he held the door frame. My mouth dried at the sight of him. His warm voice rumbled, “Hello, Ginny. You going to get some dinner first or are you headed straight home?”

I swallowed, my throat dry and was it swelling? No sound managed to escape…

His smirk faltered and he stepped close, his large hand cupping my chin. “Hey, I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

I nodded and shrugged, looking like I was suffering from a severe case of Turret’s. I looked up into his eyes, took a breath and mumbled, “Home.”

His head tilted to the side, his hand still cupping my chin, his fingers cradling my cheek. I leaned into it and the rest of my breath whooshed out. His hands were warm, dry, and large enough to hold me completely. These last few months I had craved a small touch from him.

His grey eyes softened and I felt my lips tilting up in a smile. I took a step back, missing the warmth of his hand. His arm fell to his side and he made a fist and released it.

“Are you working the holiday?” His grey eyes watched me carefully, like he was judging my answer.

“H-holiday?” Confusion and more embarrassment washed over me. Why didn’t I know about a holiday? Why wasn’t my brain working?

“Monday? Labor Day?” he offered softly.

“Oh, no.” I shook my head. “I don’t work until Wednesday.”

His eyebrows shot up and the smirk once again resided on his face. This close I could see the wrinkles on his face were laugh lines. The man had an expressive and handsome face, a face like his should be chiseled from granite and preserved forever.

He chuckled, “Well, that’s great.”

“Mmm,” came a small grunt from my lips.

“I’d like to take you out, Ginny.”

My stomach fell, my knees locked to stop me from slumping down. Oh God… my fantasies could come true. But then what…

I would be like the meth-head, looking for my next hit probably. I’d be picking up random guys, begging for dark things.

He waited for my answer, confidence oozing off him and I shook my head.

“I don’t… date.” I said softly.

He raised one eyebrow in disbelief and crossed his arms over his broad chest. His eyes narrowed, his chest inflated, dear God the man could be intimidating when he wanted. A low rumble came from his chest and an order was barked, “Explain.”

“I’d rather not,” my voice squeaked.

His eyes narrowed and he gave me a chin nod. “Fair enough. Tomorrow morning I’ll pick you up at ten and we’ll go for brunch and discuss this ‘no dating’ and why I should be the exception.”

Humor danced in his eyes and I relaxed, slightly. I had to, because my body was so tight I could barely breathe. Could I do this?

“I’ll meet you,” I said with confidence I didn’t feel. Perhaps I could just have brunch. It wasn’t like I didn’t have control over the situation. I wouldn’t get drunk; and he wasn’t the kind of man to take advantage.

He grinned, “Alright. Jane’s on Third good for you?”

My favorite breakfast place. Did he know that? I smiled warmly and took a deep breath. “Yes, thank you.” His name tickled my tongue as I whispered it, “Jared.”

He gave me a chin nod again and a wink. “See you tomorrow, Ginny.”

I turned and continued toward my car. The creak of his car door told me he was sitting down. I felt his eyes on me as I walked toward the garage. I felt protected under his gaze.

——

Jane’s was down the block from my apartment. The September morning was unseasonably warm, like summer was holding out for this last weekend before the chill would fill the mornings. I chose to dress flirty. The man had only seen me in scrubs, and if his uniform was unflattering, scrubs were positively atrocious. My boobs were too big for the small shirt, so I had to wear the medium size. This meant I had to wear a t-shirt under it because otherwise my bra showed. The pants were ridiculous. The tied waist pooched up funny in the back giving me diaper butt. In other words, it was a miracle the man found me attractive at all.

Today I would wow him with my feminine side. I selected black ballet flats, black leggings, and my favorite tunic. It clung to my boobs perfectly and the bottom swayed with each step. I grabbed a cardigan and my purse and headed toward Jane’s hoping he was wearing tight-fitting jeans and a t-shirt that was paint on.

Jane’s restaurant tea was delicious, probably three times the caffeine as coffee with a pungent scent of citrus and cinnamon that I loved. The thought of having a cup added a skip in my step. I felt my heart lifting, excited to be meeting Jared. A date! The first one in months, no… it was fourteen months ago when I last had a date. I determined he was an asshole before our entrees were served. Before we were finished with dinner my oldest brother Craig showed up and punched him. Thank God I’d moved. I loved my brothers, but they were crazy over-protective.

A dozen people stood outside the restaurant, waiting to be seated. Ten on Saturday meant we’d probably have to wait at least thirty minutes before we were seated. The tea and French toast were worth the wait. I opened the door, tucking my phone into the back pocket of my purse after checking the time. I took a breath and released it, the noises and scents of the restaurant hitting me.

I smelled him before I saw him, my eyes adjusting to the dark interior. He wore a simple scent, probably just his soap, but it featured prominently in my dreams. I turned and bit my lip, holy hell, tight faded jeans and a dark maroon t-shirt, not quite spray painted on, but tight around his biceps. Dark brown boots peeked out from the bottom of  his slightly frayed jeans.

Delicious.

My eyes finally made it to his face and my heart stuttered at his beautiful face. His close cut brown hair looked soft and I clenched my hand to stop myself from reaching up and running my fingers across it.

He gave me a half-smile, his voice slightly rough, “You look beautiful, Ginny.”

I grinned and mumbled, “Thanks.” I looked around the crowded entryway, wanting to move toward the wall. People were watching us, making me nervous.

His hand moved down my arm and gently tugged my elbow so I stepped closer. “We can wait over there,” he said motioning with his chin.

I moved with him, grateful to be out of the main way.

“You remind my of my sister, Annie,” he murmured close to my ear. I leaned closer and inhaled. God he smelled delicious. Warm, sexy, masculine and I wanted to roll over him and cover myself with his scent.

“Mmm?” I murmured, hoping he’d continue the conversation.

“She’s extremely introverted.”

“Oh,” I bit my lip and shrugged, “me too.”

He chuckled, “Yeah, I figured. You aren’t with the patients, though.”

“No, I don’t know why, it’s just easier with them.” I quirked a brow, “What does your sister do?”

“She teaches fifth grade.”

“Ohmigod, I couldn’t stand in front of a bunch of people, even if they were kids.” I shuddered at the thought.

He grinned, “She’s good at it though, like you.” He leaned closer, his thigh brushing against mine and I blushed. His hand caressed up my back until it rested on the back of my neck and my knees threatened to melt. How could that one simple motion, just the promise of his restraint, turn me into a total puddle of desire?

His grey eyes widened and he whispered, “You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?”

I didn’t try to deny anything. He knew. He knew how he affected me.

“Did you grow up here?” he asked, quickly changing the subject.

“No. West Virginia.” Oh God, I couldn’t even speak in sentences…

“When did you move here?” he asked, his voice tender, his hand on the back of my neck tightened slightly, possessively, and his other arm wrapped around my waist, hugging me close to him. Otherwise, I would have fallen.

“Three months ago,” I whispered.

“And you aren’t dating anyone?”

I shook my head.

“Do you have an arrangement with someone?”

My brows knit together in confusion, I whispered, “No.”

“You just moved here and you’ve decided to not date.” He slid his hand down from my elbow to my hand, leaving a trail of electricity in its wake. His warm fingers pulled my hand up to his lips and he kissed it. He intertwined our fingers and whispered, “What is this?”

I shrugged and whispered,”I don’t know.”

He looked at me curiously and then dropped a quick kiss on my forehead. He released my hand and took a step back. He changed the subject. “What are your plans for the weekend?”

I missed his hand intertwined with mine. I took a step closer and he smiled approvingly.

I wet my lips and his nostrils flared, his eyes were glued to my lips. I whispered, “A couple of friends from work are going to a movie on Sunday and maybe out after. What about you?”

“This is it.” He grinned, “I’ve been trying to work up the nerve to ask you out for a month. I couldn’t figure out if you hated me or were just shy.”

My eyes widened.

“The ball gag comment last night gave me hope,” he said with amusement.

I snorted, “Ohmigod. I don’t even know how to take that.”

“You’re quiet, and have a good sense of humor. You might be shy, but once you are comfortable you relax.”

“Yup, that about sums me up.” I admitted. “What about you?”

“I’m a control freak and adrenaline junkie.” He leaned forward and whispered, “And at times I can be… demanding.”

Ohmigod. I swallowed and dropped my gaze. He reached down and grabbed my hand, “They called my name.” I followed him to the table wondering if my fantasies could become realities. Could I trust him, or even myself?

I smiled at the waitress but her attention was fixated on Jared. He ignored her and asked me, “Do you want coffee or juice?”

“Tea, please.” I murmured. The waitress gave me a saccharine smile and promised to return soon.

His gaze rested on my breasts for a moment before looking up, “Do you drink coffee?”

“Yes, but the tea here is like crack. I come here at least four mornings a week just for the tea.”

“Sounds addictive,” he murmured, his eyes memorized by my lips.

Was there something stuck on them? I swept my tongue across my bottom lip and he shifted in his seat. The reaction pleased and surprised me. Maybe I wasn’t the only one with fantasies… Still, this was a man I’d have to see again and again. Things could get awkward if it didn’t work out and in my limited experience, they wouldn’t work out.

“You live close?” he asked.

“Yes. The next block.”

“Well, that explains how you found parking,” he said lightly.

“Oh, I walked. Do you live nearby?” I asked hoping to keep the conversation away from the gutter.

“A mile or so,” he leaned back in his chair and the waitress put his coffee in front of him before serving me my coffee. “I rode my bike over.”

I stopped, the tea halfway to my mouth, “Motorcycle?”

“Yeah,” he looked amused, “you picture me on a ten-speed?”

I replied dryly, “Well, I wouldn’t mind seeing you in the bike shorts.” He chuckled as I blushed furiously. I needed to be in better control of my mouth. I took a sip of tea before asking, “What kind?”

“You know bikes?” he asked skeptically.

“I have three older brothers who constantly build and rebuild bikes. Not that they ever let me in the shop, but yeah, some of the info rubbed off since that’s all they’d talk about around me.”

“It’s a KTM 1190 adventure.”

I grinned, “Nice. You take it camping?”

He shook his head, “No, I haven’t gone camping since Boy Scouts.”

It figured he was a boy scout. I bet he was good with knots…

His expression told me he knew my mind had returned to the gutter. He reached across the table and picked up my hand, his fingers circling my wrist tightly. He was taking my pulse.

“What were you thinking?” His low voice insisted on honesty.

I blushed and shook my head. No way was I telling him that thought! Thankfully the waitress returned and took our orders.

I pulled my hand away and changed the subject. “My brothers built me a bike for my eighteenth birthday. We would load up all the bikes and go camping, usually because someone had a race.”

“What kind?” he asked, interested.

I wrinkled my nose. “It’s custom.”

“Did you bring your bike here?”

“No, not yet.” I didn’t even try to hide my disappointment. Craig wouldn’t let me. He wanted to check out the area and make sure it was safe to drive first.

“Wanna go for a ride after brunch?”

“Yes! The weather is perfect.”

He chuckled. “Good. Did you fish when you went camping?”

I grimaced. “Not if I could help it. I prefer hiking and land activities.”

He nodded, as if he was taking notes. “Did you race, too?”

“No. My brothers would have killed me if I tried.” I shrugged. “I’m not competitive enough. Those guys get… aggressive and impulsive. I like to ride, and I’ll probably ride my bike up in the spring. Doesn’t make sense to get it now.”

He nodded, “April is good. Are your brothers why you don’t date?”

I smirked, “Yes, mostly.” I studied his eyes and continued, “It didn’t help that they would show up when I went out.”

“I’ve done that once or twice when the guy was a real asshole,” he mumbled.

“I don’t always date assholes and the nice guys are too scared to ask me out.”

He leaned back as our breakfasts were put in front of us. Mine was two thick pieces of bread, battered and cooked to golden-down perfection, lightly dusted with confectioners sugar. His was eggs, bacon, and sausage. Jeez, no wonder his biceps were so big! He only ate protein.

He continued peppering me with questions and it was easy to talk to him. I appreciated that he kept the conversation going, preventing any awkwardness. I watched his hands move, grasping the fork, cutting off a piece of sausage. Strong, capable hands that I wanted on me. His eyes swept the room before they turned back to me.

“Keep looking at me like that and we’ll skip the ride and go straight back to your place,” his low voice warned.

Oh God, he really was reading my mind, or at least my face. Was I that expressive? I dropped my gaze to my plate and carefully cut a small piece of french toast off. It was tasteless, the only taste I wanted in my mouth right then was him.

Breakfast was torturously slow. I was afraid to eat, my stomach roiling with emotion. He tossed a couple of bills on to the table and held his hand out.

“Let’s go,” he murmured.

His hand steadied me as I stood. Maybe it was the extra caffeine in the tea, or the sugar from breakfast, but I had buzzing in my ears, my knees were weak, and if he let me go, I would most likely fall. He didn’t release me. Instead his arm came around my waist and he pulled me against him.

Once outside he looked up and down the block, “Which way to your place?”

“I… uh,” I stumbled over my tongue. Was he serious?

“You’re not dressed for a ride.” His gaze fell to my legs. “You look beautiful, but you should probably put on real shoes and pants.”

“Oh,” I said, feeling relief followed by disappointment. I pointed down the block and he walked beside me, his arm still around my waist. It felt good to be so close to his warmth. I wondered if my shirt would smell like him now. I pictured wrapping my pillow in it just to bring on more intense dreams.

My apartment was small but tidy. I loved it because it was all mine. I had lived at home the last two years of college because I couldn’t stand living in the dorms any longer and it made financial sense. However, my three brothers had converted above the garage into an apartment, which meant we were all basically still living at home. It made it impossible for me to date, although it didn’t stop the constant flow of ho’s through their place.

I unlocked the door and pushed it open. Jared came in and stood beside me, watching me closely as I closed and locked the door.

“Ginny?” he murmured.

I turned to face him and he stepped closer, pushing my back against the door. Oh, yes, please.

“Ginny,” he whispered before he lowered his head and kissed me. His hands moved up my torso, trailing heat against my skin and leaving me writhing against the doorway.

“Shh,” he murmured. One hand slid up my back grabbing a fistful of hair and I gasped and pushed myself toward him. He stepped closer, his thighs pinning me against the door, his lips feasting on mine while his hand in my hair kept me still.

I wanted to climb him. I wanted to wrap myself around him and throw him on the ground and ride him. I wanted more, more skin, more touching, more kisses.

He tilted his head back and I whimpered. He kissed me chastely on my lips and then trailed kisses across my face. He whispered, “I didn’t intend this to get out of hand.”

I whimpered again, swallowing the disappointment. He never stopped in my dreams. I looked up to his eyes, they were so serious.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

He shook his head, “Tell me what you want, Ginny.”

I couldn’t. My mouth opened but words wouldn’t come out. I closed it and swallowed, lowering my gaze and blushing again! If only I could tell him…

He sighed, “Do you even know what you want?”

I shook my head. I only knew I wanted him. I couldn’t meet his eyes.

“Ginny, have you ever… Look. At. Me.” The last three words are fierce and they sent a thrill through my body. My eyes flicked up immediately, my lips parted and I was panting.

“I’ve been watching you for the last three months,” his voice softened and his eyes crinkled with amusement. “You either are fascinated with restraints or have a hand fetish.”

I stilled, unsure what to say. Fear coursed through me, was I really that transparent?

“Or maybe you’re just attracted to me?” he added. He gripped my hair tightly and tilted my chin up, his grey eyes gripped mine. He growled, “Which is it?”

“All of them.” I admitted and his hand tightened in my hair. “Well, maybe not the hand fetish.”

His grip relaxed as he leaned forward and kissed me. His lips teased and taunted my mouth, his tongue exploring me, seducing me until I was a puddle in his arms. He was asking me a question, murmuring it, the words were incoherent to me.

“Ginny.” A statement, a command, he had my attention now. I listened carefully, his voice held me captive. “Would you like me to restrain you?”

My eyes widened, now I wanted him to read my mind. Yes, I wanted him to restrain me. Yes, I wanted to have my fantasies come true — even if it made me a sick freak.

He tightened his grip in my hair, “What stops you from answering?”

My lips moved, my voice barely audible, “I’m scared.”

He kissed me fiercely, molding my body to his. My hands gripped his waist and traveled higher. God the man’s shoulders were huge. I clung to him and when he broke our kiss I was panting. Sucking in a breath to sustain me. Hoping to be kissed again. I’d give up air for another kiss like that…

“What are you scared of?” His lips tickled my ear. I flinched and he wrapped his arms around me, snuggling me against his chest. “Answer. Me.”

“What if I like it?” The words tumbled out of my mouth.

He leaned back and looked at me curiously. “You’ve never…?” His brows furrowed and he tilted his head, “I like it.” His admission lifted a weight from my chest. He continued, “Some people like spicy food, some people can’t stand it. Some people hate coffee but love tea. Do you understand?”

I nodded.

“So what are you afraid of, really?”

“That I’m… that there’s something wrong with me.” I admitted.

He grinned, “I get that. Can you live your life denying yourself what you really want?”

I shrugged, rubbing my cheek against his shirt. “I have.” I admitted.

He chuckled, “What if we try this today — no strings attached. Just an experiment to see if you really like this.”

I tightened my arms around his waist. “I’d like that.”

He closed his eyes for a moment and then growled, “If you tell me to stop, I will.” His hands slid lower and he roughly grabbed one of my thighs pushing it up and wrapping it around him.

His lips descended on mine and I responded eagerly. The hard surface of the door disappeared and suddenly I was moving. Jared navigated through my apartment to my bedroom. He sat on the bed, my thighs straddling his waist, my core rested against his erection.

His hands skimmed under my shirt and then pulled it over my head. “Fuck,” he said it reverently, almost like a prayer as he bent down and kissed the top of my breast. Warm, soft kisses rained across my chest, his nose pushed my bra strap over my shoulder. My hands were busy too. I explored the smooth skin of his back, his torso was muscular. I tried to push the shirt off but he wouldn’t allow it.

Instead he unclasped my bra and stood, turning and laying me on my bed. His jeans looked uncomfortably tight. I reached forward, my fingers slipping under the waistband. He stilled, watching me carefully. He moved closer, making it easier for me to unfasten his belt. The thick leather was supple under my hands, it felt good sliding between my fingers. His breathing grew louder and encouraged my hands to unbutton the top button of his jeans.

His hands moved to his belt and with one smooth motion he pulled it from his jeans. The sound of the leather sliding out of his jeans, the way he wrapped the buckle around his hand was exciting. He was watching me carefully. I could feel his eyes on mine but mine were glued to his hands, the way the brown leather wrapped. I wanted it on me.

“Give me your wrists,” his hushed voice tickled my skin.

My hands reached forward releasing his waistband; my body reacted to his voice, his body, his aura. He kissed my palms, my wrists, and then began to wrap the leather belt around my wrists binding them together in front of me. His breathing became harder, matching mine.

“I love this,” he breathed. He tucked the end of the belt into the wrapping and tested the strength of the bonds. His hands then moved to his zipper and he fisted his erection, pumping twice. “This is for you. This is how hard you make me. Taste it.”

I scrambled to me knees positioning myself at the edge of the bed and leaning on my elbows to take him in my mouth. He growled, the low rumble sending shivers through me. My body responded, focusing on giving him pleasure and in return I began to ache. I wanted him. His fingers slid through my hair, gripping it tightly. The sting of pain added to my arousal. I felt him shudder and then he held my head and began to fuck my face. I gagged and he pulled out. He quickly lifted me up, kissed me quickly on the lips and then laid me back.

“Eyes on me,” he commanded. Why would I want to look elsewhere? He pulled his shirt off and then leaned forward and pulled my panties down my legs. His pants hung low past his hips, his proud cock bobbing as he moved. I wanted it filling me, now. Jared shook his head, “Baby, all in good time. I plan on enjoying you, every part of you.”

“Can you read my mind?” I asked.

He grinned, “I’d like to, but no. I can tell you want me. Trust me, the best part of sex is the anticipation.”

My head lolled to the side. “But I’ve been anticipating,” I whined.

He froze for a moment, his eyebrows quirked up. “You have? Tell me, have you thought about us?”

“Yes.”

He lifted me easily, laying me on my bed and covering me with his naked body. He pushed my arms above my head and then kissed me. My legs immediately wrapped around his waist and he chuckled, “I’m going to tie your legs, leaving you open for me to use you however I wish.” He leaned in and kissed my neck, his nose trailing along my jaw and then he bit my ear. My hips canted up, pressure was building up and I wanted to come.

“You’d like that my little one, wouldn’t you?” He leaned back at looked at me, waited for me to nod and then a beautiful smile broke across his face. “Stay there, little one.” When he used that tone of voice I couldn’t move. He slid off me, pressing kisses along my torso. He stood up and picked my bra up from the floor. He slid my ankle through the arm of my bra and then placed kisses from my knee to my thigh. His lips tickled my flesh and as I wiggled he gripped both thighs and suddenly his tongue slid between my labia. The feeling was exquisite. My legs relaxed, the bra hanging off one leg, both trying to wrap around Jared.

“No,” he sat up and lightly slapped my thigh. He grabbed my shins and bent my legs so they rested on my chest. My hands clenched and unclenched, wanting to reach forward but I wouldn’t move them. He slid the bra’s elastic so that it rested in the crook of my knee and then lifted my hips and slid my bra under my back. He mumbled, “I’d love to tie you in silk. Dark jade would look beautiful against your skin.” His hand slid across my torso to my other leg and within a moment he had stretched my bra and used it to pin my other thigh up exposing me completely.

“Ohmigod,” I breathed. My hands came down and he quickly pinned them above my head with one hand while his other slid down my belly, his fingers sliding between my labia, dipping into my core and one finger slid up and over my clitoris. Restrained, pinned to the bed and open for him I could do nothing but take what he chose to give me.

“You’re wet for me.” He smiled knowingly, kissed my lips and then moved down. His hand was still on my wrists, his other fondling my folds and then he pulled one of my nipples into his mouth. My body bowed off the bed and he suckled me deeper into his mouth. My body was on fire. He made it worse, taunting me with his mouth, his hands, until finally, finally, he placed his lips over my center. He licked between my folds and I exploded, my thighs pulling against the restraints. His tongue lapped and teased until I begged for him to stop.

He sat back, pulled my bra off, massaged my legs and then brought my hands down. “Did you like that?” he asked.

I rolled my eyes, “You know I did.”

His face hardened and he warned, “Careful with your tone, little one.”

I bit my lip, chastened. His face softened and he quickly removed his belt and kissed my palms. He covered my body with his.

I whispered, “Can I touch you?”

He grinned, “Yes, I’d like that.”

My hands moved over his back down to his ass and then back up allowing my nails to scratch up his back. His body responded, tightening and grinding against me. He suddenly sat up, grabbed his pants and pulled a condom from his pocket.

“You want me to continue?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said as I leaned up on my elbows and watched him roll the condom down his shaft.

Jared had a seductive way of moving and I was entranced as he approached the bed. He grabbed my ankles and pulled me to the edge of the bed. I gasped, not prepared for his sudden show of strength. He pulled my legs high, placing my ankles on his shoulders. He turned and kissed my ankle.

“You look beautiful,” he said against my skin. His cock was sliding against my slit, teasing my opening.

“Thank you. Please, Jared, I want you.” His hips moved back slightly and then slammed into me making my breath whoosh out.

His mouth opened and his head fell back as he let out a moan. He held himself against me, and finally lifted his head and caught my gaze. “You’re so tight, little one. Are you ready for me to move?”

I nodded, words lodged in my throat. This was what I had dreamed of for so many nights. His face relaxed and his hips moved slowly, pulling out and thrusting in hard.

I grunted, the feeling was just on the precipice of pain. He was careful, though. I could tell he was holding himself in check and I wondered what it would be like if he unleashed himself. This was fucking, base, primal, and I loved it. My hands gripped the sheets and I clenched my core around him.

“Jesus, Ginny, you’re so fucking tight. Am I hurting you?”

“No. Please, I want more…” the words escaped my mouth.

He growled, leaned forward and moved one hand to my shoulder, pinning me to the bed. His other hand gripped my thigh and he began a punishing rhythm. I would have bruises on my thigh and butt and I loved that I would have a visible reminder of this. His balls slapped against me and he began to grunt. His control was slipping and I felt powerful. His hand moved from my thigh to my mons, and his thumb worried my clit. It was too much, the fullness, his complete possession of me; I loved being under him, under his control. I came hard crying out his name, lights exploding behind my eyes. He continued his rhythm throughout my climax, cursing under his breath. He tensed threw his head back and growled my name as he released inside me. My legs slid from his shoulders and he leaned against me; my body absorbed his full weight. His lips feathered over my cheek and he kissed me sweetly. So sweetly I felt tears prick my eyes.

“Jesus Christ, woman, you’re going to kill me,” he muttered as he slid out, pulling the condom off and dropping it on the ground. He scooped me up and settled us on to the middle of the bed. He held me close and suddenly I wanted to cry. It was so tender after being so rough. He seemed to sense my emotional turmoil.

“Ginny, let me hold you,” he said. I hadn’t realized I was pushing him away. I relaxed and his arms tightened around me. “Beautiful girl, you are amazing.” He kissed my forehead and I snuggled in close.

We didn’t speak; he just held me, his hand caressing my back. My mind was racing, and it kept coming back to the feeling of shame. Total and complete shame that I would allow myself to be used, that I wanted my body to be used by him.

“Sweetheart,” he rumbled against hair, “I can feel you withdrawing. Let me guess, you’re embarrassed, ashamed, maybe even angry at yourself.”

I swallowed and nodded.

He hugged me tighter, “It’s normal to feel that way after having such an intense experience. Talk to me.”

I shrugged and whispered, “What’s wrong with me? Why do I like being…”

“Submissive,” he whispered back.

I tensed and then sighed, “Ok, yes, submissive. Why am I submissive?”

He chuckled, “I’m glad you are. I’m dominant. If you want I can introduce you to some others, maybe give you some perspective.”

“Perspective?”

“Yeah, perspective.” He kissed me and I relaxed into him. He murmured, “Did you like it enough to try it again?” My thighs clenched at the thought and he laughed, “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Knocking sounded at my door, followed by my brother Craig’s voice. “God dammit, Virginia Rose, open up the god damn door!”

I tried to bound off the bed but Jared’s arms tightened around me.

“Who the fuck is that, Ginny?” His voice was hard and frightening.

“My brother, Craig.”

He immediately released me and I scrambled off the bed.

“Shut up, Craig.” I called out and the knocking at the door subsided. I grabbed my clothes, putting them on quickly and combing my fingers through my hair.

I opened the door but left the chain lock on it, glancing over my shoulder and relieved that Jared was dressing.

Craig narrowed his eyes, “What the fuck, Ginny, I’ve been calling for the last half hour.”

I spat back at him, “What the fuck, Craig? Why the hell would you make such a commotion outside my door? Are you trying to get me kicked out?”

He hesitated for a moment and then gave a chin nod at the door, “Open up.”

I groaned and closed the door, unhooked the chain and looked behind me. I whispered, “I’m sorry. Maybe it would be better if you, um, stayed in the bedroom until I got rid of him.”

He scowled and I stuttered, “I-I-I, he’s an impulsive idiot,” I finally managed to spit out.

Jared nodded, “I understand. Open the door Ginny.”

Oh God, please strike me dead now.

He used that tone that made my knees weaken. “Open. The. Door.”

My hands trembled as they moved toward the door handle.

“Craig,” I spoke tentatively, “I have a friend here.” I opened the door wide and nodded with my chin, “Craig, this is Jared.” I was impressed my voice was a strong as it was.

Craig’s face soured and his hand fisted and cocked back.

“No!” I warned and stepped in front of Jared, my hands up defensively.

“Get out of the fucking way, Gin.”

“No! God dammit Craig, stop it or I’ll call the police.”

Jared spoke up, “I am the police. You might want to listen to your sister before you find yourself arrested for assaulting an officer.”

Craig’s eyes narrowed, but he rocked back on his heels and dropped his hands. Jared’s arm came around my waist and he tucked me into his side. He held out his right, “Jared Baxter.”

Craig took it and shook. I could see he was squeezing Jared’s hand ridiculously hard. I snorted and Craig released it.

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

Craig frowned, “It’s Labor Day Weekend. I wasn’t going to let you spend a holiday alone.”

I rolled my eyes, “I call bullshit.” I narrowed my eyes, “I bet your latest girlfriend invited herself along to the family camping trip.”

He grunted and shook his head, “Nope. I missed you.” He flicked his gaze to Jared’s possessive grip and growled, “Why the fuck didn’t you tell us you were seeing someone Ginny?”

Jared tensed and then in a deadly voice said, “You’re done talking to her that way. If you can’t use a respectful tone and words, you can go.”

Craig narrowed his eyes, “That’s my sister you’ve got your hands on, asshole.”

Jared moved so quickly I didn’t realize what was happening until I saw my brother, pinned against the front door, his arm painfully pulled behind his back.

“Apologize,” Jared growled.

Craig grunted and I stood stunned. Clearly Jared could have been much rougher with me in bed. Jared was completely in control of his emotions while Craig looked like a feral animal.

Craig huffed, “Sorry, Ginny.”

Jared released him and took a step back still in fighting stance and ready to protect me. That was the moment I knew I had fallen for him. The man was willing to fight my brother for me, not just stand up but truly face him and fight.

“You’re a cop?” Craig asked begrudgingly.

“Yes.” Jared answered flatly.

“How’d you meet?” Craig muttered.

“At work,” I answered. “Why are you really here?”

Craig’s lips tightened and then he grinned, “Honestly, Gin, I missed you.” He stepped forward and held out his hands and I allowed him to embrace me. He mumbled, “Aw, Jesus, I miss you. I was worried about you, kid.”

I giggled, “So worried you couldn’t call but decided to drive seven hours?”

He grunted, “Shut up.” His arms tightened and he swayed me back and forth. He whispered in my ear, “Get rid of him.”

I stiffened and pushed away. “Craig, did you ride down here or drive?”

He grinned, “I rode; thought we’d check out some routes you might do this spring.”

I stepped closer to Jared. “Sounds good. Jared was going to take me on a ride today. I was just going to put on some jeans and boots.”

He grunted, “Yeah?”

Jared spoke up, “Sure. You can join us if you like.”

Craig’s jaw tightened, “Join you?” He spat, “Join you? What the fuck? Ginny?”

Jared’s hand moved so quickly I didn’t see him punch Craig, just the aftermath. Craig stepped back a few feet, his hands flying to his face. When he straightened I saw the blood on his lip. My first inclination was to be angry at Jared for hitting my brother but when Jared’s hand rested on my shoulder I relaxed and took a breath. Thinking carefully I realized two possible outcomes, the first I told Jared to leave — and I was sure he would and never speak to me again; the second was I told Craig to leave. Craig would be furious — but when would he see me as an adult? Choosing to take Craig’s side in this moment would define me as his little sister… forever. I would never have my own identity. My identity… who was I? I was Craig’s sister; a nurse; and now I knew I was submissive. More than that, I wanted to be Jared’s.

Jared stood silently beside me, but his presence meant everything to me. His silence was beautiful, giving me the space to choose which path I wanted to take. Would I be the little sister or would I grow and learn about what I desired? Craig glowered at me trying to intimidate me while Jared’s presence gave me strength.

I turned toward Jared, leaned against his chest and wrapped my arms around his waist. “Craig, you should go.”

“Virginia…”

“Don’t even try that,” I growled, Jared’s strength filling me. “From here on out I want you to call before you visit.”

He blinked, scowling and then shaking his head. “Jesus, Virginia, when you get your head out of your ass, call me.”

Jared growled but I tightened my grip and gave Craig a chin nod. Craig muttered under his breath and stomped toward the door, slamming it closed behind him.

Jared wrapped me in his arms and murmured, “You’re brave, sweet Ginny.” I snuffled into his warmth and he murmured, “I’ve got you, little one. I have you.”

He did… one night and I was completely his. Would I survive? Would I be like the crack addict doing whatever it takes to be his?

He rubbed my back, “Sweet Ginny, you’re strong and brave and I am completely under your spell.”

He was under my spell? I was under his…

He picked me up and carried me to the couch, holding me tightly and allowing me to just be… I was warm, ensconced in his embrace and I felt loved, valued, and cherished.