Cuff Me: A BDSM Romance

by Cate Bellerose

  Cuff Me

  Cate Bellerose

  Cate Bellerose

  Copyright © 2017 by Cate Bellerose

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Any similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  Cuff Me: A BDSM Romance

  April 14th, 2017

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  Cuff Me

  A BDSM Romance

  1

  Emily

  “Don’t make a sound, or I swear to fucking God you’re gonna get it.” The mugger keeps his voice low, but the harsh whisper echoes flatly off the walls of the alley.

  My first thought is, don’t kill me! My second thought is, please, please, don’t kill me.

  I’ve had better days.

  First day on my beat, and I’m already clutching at a wiry arm wrapped around my throat and trying not to think too hard about the gun held unsteadily against the side of my head. If he doesn’t let up a little, he’s not even going to need the gun. I’ll just choke.

  Why did I join the Force again?

  All this over a botched two-bit robbery. This city’s going to hell in a handbasket. I thought it was a lucky stroke that I happened to be in the convenience store getting some gum, but I’ve changed my mind.

  This sure escalated quickly.

  Wetting my lips, I manage to draw a shallow breath. “Think,” I gasp. “It’s not worth it.”

  “Shut up!” His voice cracks, ending on a squeak. If he’s eighteen, it’s only barely. Just some punk looking to make a quick buck. Listen to me, sounding like I’m all grown up. I’ve been listening too much to the Chief.

  The kid would’ve gotten away if he hadn’t tripped when I chased him. We’d probably both be better off. If I was a slower runner, or if I hadn’t been so eager to show what I could do, maybe I wouldn’t be here with cold metal pushing against my temple.

  I’ve never felt so alone.

  Outside the alley is a large city green, surrounded by churches and office buildings. The sunset paints the scene in shades of orange and red, like an old sepia photograph, cut through with long shadows from trees and light posts.

  The park is full of people, running their errands and going about their day. I see them, some only tens of yards away, but they could be on the freaking moon for all the good they do me.

  In the darkness of the alley, there’s only me, the mugger, and his gun. With every step backwards, he pulls me further from the sunset and the people-filled evening in the park.

  A blue-uniformed figure turns the corner, filling the entry to the alley with broad shoulders and a tall, powerful frame. Paul Cannon. Partner, backup, mentor. The guy I’ve had a massive crush on for months.

  Even panicked and with a gun to my head, my heart skips at those icy blue eyes taking in and evaluating the scene in the span of a moment. His chiseled jaw sets in determination while his large fists clench and unclench. As he turns his furious gaze at my captor, his nostrils flare.

  Right now he’s not only my one hope of getting out of this mess—he’s also looking drop-dead sexy. I’m crazy for even thinking that right now.

  “Put the gun down and let her go. I’m only warning you once.”

  “No way, man. She’s the only bargaining chip I’ve got. Don’t fucking move. I’m not fucking around.” The kid pulls the gun away for a moment to wave it at Paul. A moment later it’s back against my temple. In the corner of my eye, his finger trembles on the trigger. He’s freaking out with no idea what he’s doing.

  Paul’s stance is tight, ready to spring, but he speaks slowly and deliberately. “All right. Take it easy. No one’s going to do anything rash.”

  Slowly and deliberately, he raises his hands in the air, making himself vulnerable. I want to tell him to get away and wait for backup. Now we’re both sitting ducks.

  Instead he calmly stands his ground, not showing any sign of stress. Looking at him, you’d think we weren’t both in mortal danger.

  “Stay right the fuck where you are, pig. I know your type. I’m not gonna let you take me.” Dragging me with him, the kid pulls me deeper into the alley.

  “Where are you going to go?” Paul’s tone is reasonable, but there’s a steely warning underneath it. “Our backup’s already getting into position. Put the gun down, and no one gets hurt.”

  “No more talking! Just stay right there, or I fucking swear, I’m gonna do it.”

  As the punk pulls me backwards, I force my legs to obey, praying I don’t trip or do something to make him pull the trigger accidentally. He might be a scared kid, but with a gun to my head and his arm around my neck, it doesn’t make him any less dangerous.

  Paul doesn’t move, but his expression hardens as he watches us move away. For all his size and physical strength, he can’t beat a bullet. His broad chest rises and falls in time with his breath, faster than his calm demeanor would indicate. He takes a cautious step and the kid tenses. Closing my eyes tight, I wait for the click and the explosion.

  It doesn’t come. Instead, the barrel pulls away from my head. When it doesn’t come back, I open my eyes to see. The gun’s pointed squarely at Paul.

  Oh no.

  “I said, don’t fucking move, motherfucker. I’ll shoot you!”

  “Good.”

  What?

  “Keep it pointed here. Now you have two hostages. I’m an investigator. I’m worth more to you than a fresh recruit anyway.” Paul’s got his hands in the air, trying to keep the guy calm, but I know him, and given half a chance he’ll be over here, fists flying.

  The breathing in my ear is harsh and ragged. The kid’s shivering, his whole body tight while he holds me close. “Why should I believe you?” His grip is so strong that even without the gun pointing at me, there isn’t anything I can do. And what if the gun goes off and hits Paul?

  “Listen, kid, I don’t want anyone getting hurt. Life in prison isn’t worth it for twenty bucks, or whatever you hoped to get out of the Speedy Mart.” Paul takes another step, very slowly. “While we’ve talked, snipers have moved into position. If you don’t put the gun down, this is going to get real ugly for at least one of us.”

  For a moment the arm around my throat relaxes, and I draw a deep breath. He tightens it back up immediately, as if he just forgot for a moment, but at least my lungs don’t feel ready to implode anymore. Yet.

  I want to panic, but I can’t. I have to keep my head cool, otherwise I’ll never make it in this job. I knew working on the Force could be dangerous, but this is so far beyond anything I’d imagined would happen. At least on my first day.

  “I don’t believe you. There aren’t any snipers.” My captor jerks his head, awfully busy looking around despite his words. “You didn’t have time to call them in.”

  Paul shrugs. The expression on his face says, “Go ahead. Don’t believe me, if you dare.”

  There’s no one there, and Paul knows it too. The kid’s right. There wasn’t enough time. But how sure is he? He relaxes again, confused, and this time I’m ready. Throwing all my strength into it, I try to tear away from him.

  I’m not strong enough, or he must not have been as distracted as I thought. Before I’ve gone anywhere, he gathers me right back in, his arm tighter around my neck than ever. Eyes
wide, I gasp, trying to draw what little air I can. What’s worse, the gun’s right back at my head.

  His voice is harsh, “Don’t you fucking try it, bitch.”

  I whimper, sure he’s going to do it. Everything turns blurry and my vision is going black around the edges.

  “Hey, remember me?” Paul barks like he’s putting a rowdy group of fresh recruits in line. Both of us look at him with confusion, and the grip around my neck eases a little. “Forget her. I’m the investigator, remember?” Paul’s crazy, but the guy reacts immediately, pointing his pistol back at my partner, who nods encouragingly. “That’s right. Let’s not mess with the status quo. One thing at a time. Emily, you stay put.”

  Stay put.

  I feel so useless. I’m supposed to be Paul’s co-worker, not a kid who needs a babysitter. And this was supposed to be my first real taste of the job after too many hours driving a desk at the call center. Some first day this turned out to be.

  “All right, son, I know you can’t see them, but there are currently three bright red dots on your forehead. Laser scopes.” He sighs. “Let’s not make this messy.”

  “I don’t see anyone.” The kid’s voice quavers. “You’re lying.”

  “See the church behind me? Across the green?”

  There’s a church there, but it looks impossibly far away, darkening as the sun creeps towards the horizon. Paul is bluffing, right? He sounds really confident, but I can’t exactly see if the dots are there either.

  “No one can shoot that far.”

  “Our guys are good, kid. I’ve seen them put holes in dimes at distances further than this. A single 7.62mm bullet’s going to pop your head like a watermelon. Is that the way you want to go?” His mouth tightens. “You might get a shot off on me before you die, but what’s that going to get you? You won’t ever get to see it.”

  The arm held out alongside my head shakes visibly, making the gun wobble. I pray it’s because he’s about to surrender, and not that he’s finally losing it.

  Another slow step puts Paul so close he can almost reach out and grab the barrel. “You look like a smart guy. Cooperate, and maybe we can cut you a deal. But if you shoot, they’ll be scraping what’s left of your head off the walls afterwards. It’s all up to you.”

  “It wasn’t supposed to go like this. I don’t wanna die.” Suddenly he sounds so small and pathetic and young that I feel sorry for him. My day wasn’t supposed to go like this either.

  Oh God. Please don’t let this go bad.

  “I don’t want anyone to get hurt. Just put the gun down slowly, and we’ll take it nice and easy, all right? We’ll get through this.” There’s a hint of relief in Paul’s voice. He thinks he’s won, and I pray that he’s right.

  The arm around my neck goes slack and then I’m free. I gasp, drawing my first full breath in several minutes and tumble away from him before he changes his mind. Looking behind me, I realize I don’t have to worry anymore. He’s not even looking at me, his eyes locked with Paul’s. Crouching slowly, he puts the pistol on the ground.

  As soon as the metal clacks onto the pavement, Paul closes the distance quickly, pulling the kid roughly to his feet. With a practiced motion, he presses the kid against the wall with arms behind his back. A couple of clicks later the handcuffs are on, and Paul releases a deep breath thick with relief. “God job, son. You made the right decision. Sit down and don’t move.”

  It’s over.

  I’m safe.

  The adrenaline washes out of me with a shudder and I lean against the alley wall, slowly sinking until my butt hits my ankles. A small gasp breaks out of me that sounds more like a sob.

  I almost died.

  Paul is there immediately, pulling me close while he keeps an eye on our perp. My hands grab his shirt so hard my knuckles turn white. I’ve never been so scared in my life.

  “You’re all right, Em. I’ve gotcha.” His voice soothes, rich and warm and everything I’ve dreamed about since I first saw him. Normally, I’d be thrilled at an opportunity to be so close to Paul, but not like this. I want to enjoy his strong arms around me for as long as it lasts, but I make myself pull away. He needs to do his job, not comfort me.

  Having a crush on your boss sucks.

  It takes less than ten minutes for the first squad car to arrive, and two more show up soon after. Paul talks quietly to Kent and Ramirez before they put the kid in the car, then smiles at me, relaxed again, or at least as relaxed as he ever looks. I’ve seen him shirtless at fitness training more than once. He pretty much always looks ready to wrestle a bear.

  His phone rings, making me groan. Now what?

  “Yeah, it’s me. Go.” Brief pause. “What’s up, Caleb?” Paul frowns. “Seriously? At the club? That’s not good.”

  The club?

  I’m caught between curiosity and feeling a bad for listening in on what sounds like a private conversation. Still, it’s not like he’s hiding it from me. “All right, right around the corner anyway. See ya in a bit.” He hangs up.

  “Are you all right, Em? Can you stand?” His voice is thick with friendly concern. In my dreams, it’d be the voice of a concerned lover, but he’s too by the book for that. He’d never fall for a coworker, especially one junior to him. Too bad I fell for him way before he became my superior officer.

  I nod, not sure that I really am, but I’m not going to wuss out on my first day. Again. “Yeah, I’m okay.” I take a deep breath hoping it doesn’t sound too much like a sniffle. “Just peachy.”

  He examines me closely with a tightly knit frown. I’m sure I look like hell. “You sure? I can drop you off at the station.” His face softens. “You might want to see the trauma counselor. It’s been a hell of first day.”

  I smile briefly, trying to make it a little less awkward. “Didn’t you just tell someone we were on our way?”

  He shakes his head. “They can wait. I’ll call and let them know I’ll be delayed.”

  I shake my head in turn, needing to prove that I’m not as fragile as he thinks right now. “Don’t. I’ll be okay. All in a day’s work, right?”

  He examines me for a moment before answering. “All right. Let me tell the guys we’ll be by the station later for statements and debriefing. But I’m keeping my eye on you.”

  I nod gratefully, dusting the alley muck off my pants and trying to look professional.

  Soon after, we’re in our squad car, heading deeper into the city. The sun is nearly down, and I can’t help but notice that the sky is the same deep blue as Paul’s eyes.

  2

  Emily

  What the heck kind of place is this?

  My eyes go wide as I take in the craziness. I mean, at first you might think it's just a regular dance club. DJ booth up to the left, heavy techno dance beats driving sexy, sweaty gyrating movement down on the floor.

  In most clubs, though, you don't see people walking around topless. Or bottomless. Or totally enclosed in leather and lead around on a leash. I don't even look out of place in my police uniform, since there're at least three more couples that I've spotted wearing pretty much the same thing. Even if one of the couples is handcuffed together and the woman in another is pretending to fellate her partner’s nightstick.

  Maybe not even pretending.

  I stay completely still, my eyes as wide as satellite dishes, trying to take in everything at once. I've never seen anything like it, and can’t decide if the tingle I’m feeling is horror or curiosity. It goes way beyond any exposure—not much—I’ve had to fetish stuff. This feels like the real thing, and I can't stop staring.

  “If you don't blink, your eyes are going to dry up,” Paul whispers in my ear, making me jump. “C'mon, they're expecting us in the back room.”

  I nod and start walking, but I keep staring like a tourist on her first trip to the big city. He actually has to grab my arm to keep me moving.

  Distracted, I barely step out of the way quickly enough to avoid barging right into a completely naked youn
g woman, her perky little breasts preceding her like pointed spotlights. If there's a single hair on her body aside from the strands of black silk cascading from her head, I don't see it. Her wrists are crossed behind her, encircled by thick leather manacles linked together by a short chain and she's looking straight ahead as if she can't even see me.

  A large man with a thick beard, half-open button-down denim shirt and leather pants leads her through the crowd by a leash connected to a thick steel collar around her neck. When I don't immediately move, he nods to Paul with a friendly smile and a deep, “Excuse me.”

  “Sorry.” Paul puts his hand on my elbow and moves me to the side.

  “That was weird,” I whisper.

  “Hm?”

  The couple continues into the club towards a corridor in the back with a “Playrooms” sign over it. Somehow I don’t think they are full of Legos and coloring books. Probably. “Why didn’t he say it to me?”

  “You’re here with me.” Paul’s eyes shift away and I swear he looks a little uncomfortable.

  I’m not sure that makes it any less strange, but there’s too much going on around us for me to focus on one odd exchange.

  “Em,” he prods impatiently.

  Right. Forcing myself to focus, I follow him up the stairs to a bar area, taking the opportunity to admire his rear end in his uniform pants. One day, I swear I’ll get to him. I sigh briefly. But if I can’t even catch his attention in some sort of sex club, it’s probably not going to happen.

  He nods at the bartender as we walk past. “Mike.”

  “Paul.” Mike raises a hand in greeting, giving me a curious look.

  He’s on a first name basis with the bartender? Apparently there are things about Paul that I never suspected, but I’ve just become very curious about.

  We pass through a door labeled, “Staff Only” and it’s like walking out of an orgy and into any generic office. Bright lights, a white corridor down one side, artsy, framed photos on the wall, and us standing in what seems to be a break room.