by Tl Reeve
Binding Her to Him
Dupree Investigations
Copyright © 2016 TL Reeve
Editor © 2016 Trina Losoya
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
All Rights Reserved.
Table of Contents
Blurb
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Blurb
Kennedy Le Roche, is on a mission.
A new drug has hit the streets of Reserve, Louisiana, and it is claiming victims at an alarming pace. The only clue she has is a BDSM Club on the outskirts of town. As a submissive, she’ll go undercover to ferret out who’s distributing the drug. But, there’s a catch.
Phoenix Dupree, is a police consultant by day and a Dominant by night.
When the police chief shares a case of utmost importance with him, he takes it. What he isn’t expecting is the identity of his submissive for the night, Kennedy Le Roche.
Feelings long since dormant resurface. Can Kennedy and Phoenix work together or will old wound prove to be too deep?
This is a story about bondage/restraint and of lost love.
Dedication
To my family, thank you for putting up with me on a daily basis when I am in full writer mood, I know I can be a pain. To Trina, Rhonda, Robyn and Teresa, thank for making this story shine. You guys are awesome. To Lori, thank you for allowing to join you for this ride. It’s been a nervous filled, righteous ride. I’d do it again in a heartbeat. To my readers, I hope you enjoy Phoenix and Kennedy’s story as much as I did writing it.
Prologue
Autumn, 1998
Fall was in the air. The leaves were already turning different shades of red and gold. The crisp air held a hint of the coming frost. The sun hung lower in the sky every afternoon and soon, winter would make it near impossible to ride. Driving down the sleepy little two lane highway, Phoenix took in his surroundings, memorizing every nook and cranny that made up his hometown. In a few short weeks, he was leaving home and leaving his crew.
Against the wishes of Dane, his father and leader of Vulture Row biker gang, he decided to join the Army. He didn’t want his father’s life. He didn’t want the stigma. He wanted to be someone. This gang was started by your grandfather, son. He laid the way for us, and now you’re just going to spit in his eye? No. He’d make his old man proud of him. There’s more to life than drinking, bar fights, pissing contests and fucking.
He had Kennedy Le Roche to thank for his newfound ambition. She opened his eyes to an existence he’d have never considered.
Phoenix pulled off the two-lane country road, then drove down the small dirt lane to a clearing. They were still young, he knew that. He didn’t have much to offer her, but he had his love. He had a job and he had a plan. His bike’s custom Fat Boy engine loped as he came to a rest next a shade tree.
Kennedy’s lithe body rubbed against his back suggestively. She melded to his form like a second skin. During the short trip, it had been easy to forget they were separate people. “Come here, Beautiful.” Phoenix tugged her hand. With graceful ease, she slipped from the seat behind him to straddle his lap. Her full breasts pushed against the front of her cropped leather vest, and the denim mini-skirt she wore just to drive him crazy climbed up her trim tanned thighs.
His gaze traveled up her sexy legs to the jeweled belly button ring her daddy didn’t know about and onto the small heart tattoo on her lower belly. His dick hardened to the point of pain, pressing against the zipper of his leathers—something that happened frequently with Kennedy. Even at eighteen, she was a little tease. Glancing up, a devious smile curled her full heart-shaped lips. Fuck, I’m in way over my head. In all honesty, he’d drown in her sweetness any day. She’d been his first and, as far as he was concerned, she’d be his last. Kennedy was his lady.
“I know that look,” she purred, leaning back against the tank and handlebars. Her long, curly blonde locks fanned out behind her, and the round peeks of her luscious breasts pushed up from the V of her vest. Phoenix groaned. His mouth watered. The little wildcat knew exactly what she was doing to him.
“Oh yeah? What does this look mean?” he asked, grabbing her hips and sliding her down closer to him.
Kennedy arched to him and moaned. “This right here.” She sighed, trailing her hand down the center of her chest. “You want me.”
“Maybe I have better ideas.” He leaned into her to kiss her collarbone, then up the side of her neck. His hands skimmed up her sides, and he watched as goose bumps broke out in the wake of where he’d touched her. “So responsive.” Each sigh, moan and shift of her pretty little body told him exactly what she wanted and how.
“Phee, please baby,” she whimpered.
Nipping at her ear, he sucked the lobe into his mouth and was rewarded by a roll of her hips against him. He could feel her heat and wetness through the thin barrier covering her sex.
“I love it when you say please.” Young love is what his Ma called it. His dad called it getting his dick wet for the first time. A pussy is a pussy, boy. Each time you sink balls deep, you’ll feel like you’re in love. It’s called infatuation. Phoenix knew better. Each time he powered deep inside her, he fought for control, and he knew there wouldn’t be anyone else like Kennedy.
“Please,” she giggled, rubbing her crotch against his groin.
Need clawed at his balls as he kissed the valley between her breasts and palmed her ass. Nudging the material covering her tits out of the way, he nibbled on the supple flesh. Her sighs were music to his ears.
“Marry me, Kennedy,” he murmured running his tongue over her lace covered nipple. “Come with me to Georgia.”
Her body went stiff, her hands landed on his shoulders shoving him back. “What?”
He sat up, wiping the back of his hand across his lips, while eyeing her speculatively. “Marry me.”
“Phee,” she sighed.
“Come with me. I’ll go through basic training, and we can live on base.” He had it all planned out. He even talked to his recruiting officer about it. They’d have a small efficiency apartment waiting for them at Ft. Benning.
“You know I can’t.”
“Why? Is it because of your dad?” Phoenix’s heart constricted. He couldn’t believe she’d ever tell him no. Maybe his dad had been right after all.
Kennedy picked at the hem of her skirt. “You know daddy,” she whispered, squirming against him.
Yeah, he knew about her daddy. “Let me get you home.” The perfectness of the moment disappeared. The conversation about her father wouldn’t happen. Rejection stung like a son of a bitch. After helping her off of his bike, he waited till she was behind him then started the bike. Unlike before, her weight wasn’t comforting. His heart shattered into a million piece
s, because he realized in those precious few seconds, he’d never be good enough for her.
Chapter One
This sucks monkey balls. The first day Kennedy Le Roche had off in two weeks, and rather than catching up on her sleep or watching her favorite shows while gorging on pizza and beer, here she sat. In her car. On another call. She glanced over at her partner Eric Bonin, and after taking a sip of her firehouse coffee, she sighed. The guy looked about as happy as she felt. Just as bleary eyed too. His lips thinned into a grim line, and his hands tightened on the wheel as they drove down the narrow alleyway.
They’d been partners for the past ten years. They went the academy together and had been lucky to move up the ranks side by side. She hadn’t had a real friend like Eric since Phoenix. Nor had she really put herself out there to find more friends like either man.
Relationships were hard for her to form. Trust didn’t come naturally for her. She questioned everyone’s motives. Then, she compared men and women to Phee. They didn’t laugh like him. Have opinions like him. They didn’t like the same things as him. Lame excuses became a crutch for pushing people away. It was always easier that way. No fuss. No muss. Except for Eric. The guy had been tenacious when they were in the academy. He pushed her. Demanded more from her and, in exchange, Eric didn’t allow her to dwell on the past. He didn’t let her compare him to anyone else, which was something she needed in order to move forward and heal.
Eric drew people to him, and there’d always been this undercurrent of power—whether sexual or whatever—surrounding him. His enigmatic draw confused her. She didn’t go for straight-laced guys, yet he captivated her. His authoritative air called to this small part of her. Curious, one night while in the academy, she followed him like a complete stalker, wanting to be free of those bothersome emotions.
Dressed in black like some badass undercover agent and using tactics she learned at the academy, she kept her distance. When he ended up in New Orleans at what appeared to be a strip club, she grew more inquisitive. What would it hurt? Not like she’d never seen a naked female before. Hello, girl here. But, getting in hadn’t been so easy. The guy at the door played twenty questions with her. “How did you find us? Why would you want in here?” When she said Eric’s name, the guy gave her a once over again, then finally relented and let her in.
She’d been shocked walking into the darkened club. There weren’t any strippers at all. Instead, the deep sensual beats of Pet Shop Boys filtered through speakers surrounding her. Men dressed in head to toe leather lined an L-shape bar while others mulled around the open area in the front of the club. Kennedy advanced deeper, averting her gaze from those of curious glances. Holy shit, what have I walked into?
The music’s deep bass throbbed against her breast bone as bodies writhed together in sensual sways. When she came to a stop almost dead center of a stage, her mouth fell open. The group of men she thought were huddled around another section of the bar were actually watching a show of sorts. Hell, at the time, she didn’t know what to call it.
A single spotlight illuminated the area. The sound of leather snapping against flesh startled her, but it was the sounds accompanying the first strike which mesmerized her. She stood between those men and watched in rapt awe as Eric, the guy who sat next to her in class and became a cop like her, worked over a man twice his size. By the time Eric was finished, she’d been rooted in her spot, intrigued and a little excited by what she’d seen. The appearance of trust between the men. The way her friend administered each strike, while the man accepted the punishment without compunction, even seemed serene. A few times, Eric stepped forward, spoke to the man, then went back to work. The whole exchange of power fascinated her.
In slow motion, Eric turned in her direction. A shit eating grin spread across his lips. His dark brown eyes were lit with lust and desire. His smooth chest and back were covered in a sheen of sweat and his breath came in heavy pants. A light pink tinge covered his neck and chest. He was absolutely stunning, and totally stalking toward her. Tucking tail, Kennedy ran away.
By the time she got back to the dorms, she hadn’t been able to sleep. Every time she closed her eyes, all she could see was Eric. The way he commanded attention. The expression on his face when he ran his hand over the marks left behind. The adoration in the other man’s eyes when he stared at her friend. It made her yearn for the same connection, something she denied herself for far too long.
It took her three weeks to broach the subject with him. By then however, they were ready to graduate, and she was resigned to the fact that he’d be out of her life.
“Are you just going to sit there?” Eric’s gruff voice brought her back to the present.
“Huh? Yeah, I’m coming.” Stepping out of the car, she sucked in a breath. Even though summer was still a good three weeks away, the wet, sticky air clung to everything including the jeans and dress shirt she wore. A droplet of perspiration ran down the back of her neck, past the collar of her blouse, adding to her already pissy mood.
“Just once, I’d like to get laid and catch a few hours of shut eye,” Eric grumbled as he joined her.
Boy, wouldn’t she like the same. Right now, her sex life was non-existent. No, she had to be honest with herself. Her sex life had been DOA for a while now. She used her job as an excuse. Although Eric tried to get her to come out and play with him at some new club he’d found, she refused. Kennedy knew she hurt his feelings every time she said no, but she couldn’t, even though he’d been so good to her.
A few months after they graduated and were on the same beat, they finally spoke about the night she found him in the club. The next time he went, Eric invited her with him and allowed her to explore her sexuality—something she hid. Can’t get attached if you avoided the opposite sex. The thrill she got from being tied up and dominated surprised her. The need to submit went against her mile-wide independent streak. Yet, the peacefulness she found in her submission kept her coming back for more.
The downside? Eric didn’t allow any other Dom to top her. He was overly protective of her. If she needed to scene, he took care of her sans sex—which was a-okay with her.
“I bet he was just your type too, huh?” she asked, striding toward the gated courtyard of the apartment complex.
“Yes he was,” he agreed, with a smug grin. “Nice, tight ass. Burly. Fuck. I liked it when he called me Daddy.”
Kennedy choked on her coffee, causing Eric to laugh. “A little warning, asshole,” she said. She cut her gaze at him. Mischief twinkled in his dark eyes.
“You just need to get rode hard, Kennedy. It’ll clear up all that sour pussness, real quick.”
Flipping her partner off, she followed the trail to the front apartments of the complex. White stucco walls were trimmed with Caribbean blue shutters. Small tile mosaic designs decorated the walls separating the apartments, and in the middle of the courtyard, an old fountain had been converted into a small garden. Plants and flowers flourished in soil beds. By all accounts, the place was quiet and well kept.
Turning the corner, the squawk of police radios caught her attention, along with the dead body lying prone in the entry way. Two police officers and the medical examiner stood in front of the body. The occasional click of a digital camera combined with the static from dispatched calls disrupted the early morning air. Kennedy strolled over to the body and crouched down. The girl was young, maybe only twenty-two or twenty-three years old. Blonde and pretty, she had been dressed in a short blue and black sequin dress. Her blonde locks were teased and tussled. Her makeup had been smeared, probably from sweating or other things… Kennedy then noted the white foam and spittle gathered at the corners of the girl’s mouth. Her lips were blue, and her skin had turned a sickly ash color.
“Details,” she barked. Her tone harsher than she meant, but she was fucking tired.
Maya Coffy crouched beside Kennedy, her long brown hair had been pulled back in a ponytail. Her dark gray eyes were sharp, almost hardened from too many
years of being the medical examiner. A frown tugged her lips downwards and her jaw clenched. “Core temp is ninety-five degrees, suggesting she died sometime between two and three am. I won’t have a positive cause of death until I do the autopsy.” Maya’s assistants joined them, laying a white body bag directly next to the body. With the utmost respect, they carefully picked up the young girl and placed her in the bag. They then lifted her up and placed her on the stretcher to their right. “For now, her name is Jane Doe. I didn’t find any identification on her when we arrived. I’ll check her prints when we get back to the morgue.” The medical examiner’s no nonsense tone comforted Kennedy.
Kennedy wrote furiously in her small notebook, taking down every detail Maya could give her. “Are there any witnesses?” she asked one of the officers standing nearby.
The man shook his head. “The one who called it in. He found the body about an hour ago, on his way to work.”
“Keep me posted.” She touched Maya’s shoulder before standing. Another officer spoke with a man seated near the wall by the back side of the fountain. With confident strides, she closed the distance between them. Green tinged the young man’s face, a stark contrast to his flaming red hair and emerald green eyes. A smattering of freckles covered the bridge of his nose and upper cheeks. His hands trembled. Any minute, he’d lose his breakfast. “Guys, why don’t you give him a moment.” She waited until the officer walked away and took a seat next to the man. “My name is Detective Le Roche,” she whispered gently.
“Thomas,” he said, swallowing hard.
“If you need to puke,” she hedged, letting her words trail off. In the next instant, he was up and running. Poor guy. Not every day you stumble upon a dead body.
Giving him a few minutes to himself, she took a look at her notes and wrote down a few more questions. When he approached, she patted the fountain edge next to her. “Sorry about that,” he said with a grimace.
