Primed Suspect

by Ann Cory

  Primed Suspect

  A Handcuffs and Lace Tale

  By Ann Cory

  Resplendence Publishing, LLC

  http://www.resplendencepublishing.com

  Resplendence Publishing, LLC

  P.O. Box 992

  Edgewater, Florida, 32132

  Cuffed and Dangerous

  Copyright © 2009, Bronwyn Green

  Edited by Tiffany Mason

  Cover art by Rika Singh

  Electronic format ISBN: 978-1-60735-081-1

  Warning: All rights reserved. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  Electronic release: November 2009

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and occurrences are a product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, places or occurrences, is purely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  Cassidy Valance sat on her hindquarters and licked both paws clean. Earlier she’d nourished her appetite with a small pheasant. It hadn’t been the feast she’d hoped for, but it quelled the hunger pangs. She swished her bushy red tail and wandered over to her favorite part of the garden. To her delight, several of the blue and goldenrod pansies had survived the winter. Soon spring would arrive and tiny shoots would pop up out of the ground. But tonight, spring seemed a long way off. An unusual chill penetrated through her fox fur straight to her bones. The evening frost bit at her paws and dried her nose. She needed shelter or risk freezing to death.

  For the past few months, she’d been content in her forest burrow. She’d stored enough food to graze on and spent considerable time asleep. Until the hunters woke her with deafening gunshots, causing her to flee for safety. February had come too swift, and with it brought the start of fox hunting season.

  Over the last two years, the estate had been a welcome sanctuary with its wrought iron gate, fountains and private garden. She couldn’t understand why it remained abandoned so long, but it was to her advantage. The inside sported five bedrooms, four bathrooms, a great room, a study, a spacious kitchen, a formal dining room and a breakfast nook. Floors were covered in hickory, pine and maple except for the entryway, which had an intricate marble tile. Her favorite room was the study with its cozy furniture, old books, sleek black piano and a slate stoned fireplace. But it was the garden that kept her coming back.

  For months, groundskeepers tended to the garden, but lately it had been left untouched. She knew to own a place of this stature would require money, something she had very little understanding of. In her experiences, money turned kind people into thieves and drove men to violence. It also motivated the nearby hunters into skinning and selling her fur.

  Cassidy stretched the kinks out her fox form and shivered. Another minute outside and she’d never warm up. The new moon made it dark enough for her to change into her human form. She nudged her nose against the special rock with its hidden key, and with her tongue, slid the black piece open. Between her teeth, she gripped the key and allowed the transformation into a woman happen.

  Naked, she hurried to the doorway and thrust the key into the lock. With a quick turn of the knob, she entered. To get the blood circulating in her legs, she ran up the luxurious staircase and straight into the study. She raised the tasseled cushion of the window seat and grasped the lace robe. Though sheer and lightweight, it offered a covering while she lit a fire.

  She’d never bothered with a fire in the house before, but tonight she had little choice. Nothing short of an embrace from strong, powerful arms would temper her inner chill.

  While the flames crackled in the stone fireplace, Cassidy admired the familiar items inside the old trunk in the corner she’d discovered from an earlier visit. She considered it a treasure chest with its handheld mirror, jeweled hair combs, elbow-length satin gloves, and her favorite—a lace choker that she fastened around her throat. It made her think of a collar. Something she never wanted as a fox. But with the right Master, she would dutifully wear it and submit to all his demands.

  Many wintry nights she stole inside and sat with a book on her lap, envisioning what she would do if this were her home. She’d work out in the garden. Let her fingers sink into the cool earth and grow everything from fruits to vegetables to herbs and wildflowers. She would laze in the sun on a tree-strung hammock. Read a book by the water fountain. And always have a fresh bouquet of daisies on the dining room table.

  Most of her ideas came from pictures found in magazines left inside the old walnut desk drawers. The ones that depicted how domesticated women lived and the homes they kept. Showed how they dressed. Some wore elegant gowns that swept along the floor. Others dressed in outfits that exposed miles of skin. Both styles appealed to her. The pictures were a glimpse into a life she longed to be part of, but feared.

  Cassidy closed up the trunk and took a seat in the velvet chair. She loved its lush material against her skin. It fit her body well, as if made for her. She let the robe fall open so the heat from the fire bathed her skin. The soft texture against her bare sex sent tiny thrills along her spine. All the pictures and magazines couldn’t distract her from the gnawing need coiling deep inside her core. The insistent need for sex worsened at the onslaught of spring. Relief would have to come by her own hand tonight.

  She had long since given up on being satisfied by strangers who thought only of their needs. Her cravings went further and more risqué than anything they could accomplish. She needed a man who could tame the wild beast inside her. Until then, she’d forever be at the mercy of an insatiable libido. Unsatisfied and sex-starved.

  She shifted forward and draped a thigh over the armrest. Her fingers moved down the triangular patch of hair along her mound and traced the smooth skin of her labia. She sighed in ecstasy against the first flicker of her fingertips along her clit. The sensitive pearl demanded more. Cassidy pushed her fingers inside her slick channel and her inner muscles clutched tight. What she wouldn’t give for a hard, thick cock to slake her carnal desires. She leaned her head back and let her eyes fall shut while thoughts of a Master filled her mind.

  * * * *

  The police radio crackled to life inside his patrol car just as he finished a piece of beef jerky. Ian wiped his mouth on his sleeve and snatched the receiver up.

  “Officer Valenti here. Pardon? Smoke from the chimney of the old Linton Estate? That is strange.” He scratched his head. “It’s probably just a bunch of teenagers with nothing better to do than make prank calls. No, I’m on it.” Like the teenagers, he didn’t have anything better to do either.

  The night was clear but cool. Old man winter had plans to stick around a while longer. Ian rubbed his hands together and then started the car. Heat blasted through the vents and made the ride bearable. At the next street, he turned left and took Chauncey Avenue

  , a shortcut to the Linton Estate. A slow jazz song from the stereo filled the quiet.

  He welcomed the less challenging assignment this evening. Not that he couldn’t handle some action, but since he’d woken this morning, he didn’t feel his usual hard edge. Most days he walked around the station all nerves of steel and managed to alienate the other officers. They never knew what mood he’d show up with, and in all honesty, neither did he. It was touch and go. Some days he was fine, others he relived the worst moment of his life.

  He’d tried counseling. Numerous times. It di
dn’t work for him, and he didn’t need to keep going back to find that out. He knew he’d been happy once. Had pictures to prove it. Home movies even. But when he saw the pictures and watched the movies, he saw a stranger. Some other man who shared his name and physical features.

  Ian took another turn and followed a long, winding road until he reached the wrought iron gate. He’d often passed by the estate, drawn to its Victorian charm and architecture. But he’d never seen it at night. The few streetlights in the distance cast an eerie glow. He checked online several different times to see if the house was back on the market, and finally the other morning, he’d read it would be soon. While he had the money to buy it, he didn’t know if he had the fortitude to move. The privacy appealed to him, as did the chance for a fresh start.

  Seatbelt off, he stepped out of the car and leaned against the exterior, drawing his gaze upward to the chimney. Sure enough, wisps of smoke drifted out into the cold night air.

  “Well I’ll be damned,” he whispered to himself.

  What would possess a person to go in when no one lived there? Perhaps he was dealing with a squatter, someone who occupied the house during the cold season.

  Using his upper body strength, he hoisted himself up over the gate and sprinted to the door. With his flashlight, he inspected the lock. It didn’t look broken or sawed off. He turned the knob and cringed at the faint creak that echoed inside the entryway as the door opened. Breath held, Ian waited a couple seconds and then went inside.

  Flashlight in hand, he walked throughout the lower level of the house. Nothing appeared disturbed or out of out of the ordinary. He made a mental note of the well-made cabinets in the kitchen and wooden beams in the great room. The house was more striking than he’d imagined.

  With the downstairs thoroughly searched, he made his way up the staircase. At the top of the steps, he noticed a flickering light from a room at the end of the hall. With a quiet, steady pace, he walked toward the open door, stealing quick glances over his shoulder. The last thing he needed was someone to step out from the shadows and knock him senseless.

  In the doorway, Ian rested a hand on his pistol and looked in. Floor to ceiling bookcases lined one entire wall. A shiny black piano sat cater-cornered to the fireplace. He poked his head in a little further and his breath stilled. On an oversized chair in front of a roaring fire sat a woman with one leg draped over the armrest. Her pink slit parted and exposed. A long rectangular mirror hung above the fireplace and gave him full view of her. Head back, mouth agape, eyes fluttering with long dark lashes. The firelight illuminated the blushing sheen of her skin. Long dark russet colored hair tumbled in waves along her shoulders.

  At once, his cock twitched—a sharp reminder of the many years since he had last been with a woman. Entranced, he watched the way her fingers explored the nether regions of her body.

  Breathy moans echoed around what appeared to be a study. He tried to look away but couldn’t, too engrossed by the way her fingers shifted in and out of her pussy, glossy with arousal.

  Ian’s thunderous pulse made him aware of his surroundings. And the tremendous ache of his erection taut against the zipper. What the hell was wrong with him? This wasn’t how he assessed the situation of a potential crime. The woman had clearly broken into the house somehow, and while, at the moment, she didn’t pose an immediate threat, it was the principle of the thing. No one was above the law. Not even the most exquisite and breathtaking woman he’d ever seen in his life. As an officer on duty, he needed to take control of the situation.

  Ian took a tentative step forward just as the woman tossed her head back and unleashed a series of seductive moans. His eyes fixed on the apex between her thighs and how she writhed with each swift thrust of her fingers. Sweat doused his forehead and upper chest. To watch the way she so expertly worked her pussy made for a distraction of the likes he’d never before witnessed on the job. He’d seen his share of violence, blood and brutality. He’d dealt with domestic disputes, runaways, shoplifters and gang members. But he’d never encountered a woman of such insurmountable beauty that it made him forget his own code of conduct.

  Ian acknowledged that his reaction wasn’t how it should be, but felt powerless. He rubbed at the back of his neck, hoping there was a down boy button back there somewhere. Perhaps a switch of some sort that would quiet his lower head and restart the one above his shoulders.

  The mysterious woman’s cries grew louder and more incessant. In a frantic pace, she rubbed her clit. His cock wrenched so hard he couldn’t see straight. He watched in awe at the way she thrust her other fingers inside her pussy and rode them until her hips bucked.

  Seeing her climax, Ian nearly dropped his flashlight. The woman turned her head in his direction, eyes half-mast and seductive. She didn’t seem startled or surprised.

  “Pardon me, miss,” he started, his voice hoarse. “I’m Officer Ian Valenti.”

  She rose from the chair and let the insubstantial lace robe fall from her shoulders to the floor. He didn’t want to stare, but her phenomenal body demanded his attention. All bare with her freshly creamed thighs. Her heady scent permeated the air and nearly knocked him on his ass. Ian desperately wanted to ignore the curve of her hips and the roundness of her breasts. How her legs stretched for miles. The copper patch between her thighs that served as an arrow—alerting him to the hidden sweetness he could only dream about.

  He loosened the collar of his shirt to better swallow down the lump of lust that had formed.

  She took a step forward and he at once took a step back. There was a certain distance he preferred to keep. He learned on the job that his fellow officers also had their own personal space issues.

  Ian glanced toward the doorway to make sure no one else was there before he spoke again. “I hope I didn’t frighten you,” he said.

  “I knew you were there all along.” Her voice reverberated soft and sensual. “I smelled you.”

  He arched a brow. “You smelled me?”

  “I have a keen sense of smell. It was your masculine scent that helped me over the edge just then.”

  Heat fanned his face and shoulders. No woman had ever spoken to him with such bold abandonment. He didn’t know whether to be embarrassed or turned on. Both sounded accurate.

  Ian cleared his throat. “Is there someone else in the house with you?”

  She shook her head, the strands of her hair sweeping along her breasts. “No, officer. By the way, how did you know someone was here?”

  “Smoke from the chimney. Do you mean to tell me that you entered in here all alone?”

  Her jade green eyes sparkled against the firelight. “Do you think I’d be finger-fucking myself if someone else were here?”

  His pulsed jacked up. The brazenness of the woman shocked him. And judging by the pressure of his cock against his pants, he found it stimulating. He needed to regain his self-control and overlook her obvious female charms. She was a possible suspect, after all. From his back pocket, he took out a pen and notepad. It would help to write things down and take his mind off the way she’d looked in the chair moments ago.

  “I apologize for the intrusion, miss, but I’m going to have to ask you some questions.”

  She brought her fingers up to her lips and licked the tips. “Mm. I taste good.”

  Ian gulped.

  The woman rested her hand along the curve of her hip and smiled. “What did you want to ask me, officer?”

  Whatever he’d planned to ask vanished from his mind.

  Chapter Two

  Cassidy couldn’t believe the mouthwatering stud standing in front of her. His shirt stretched tight across his frame, as if painted on, and was tucked into an equally tight pair of navy blue pants. She’d always preferred a man in uniform. Much as he tried to hide his lust for her, there was no mistaking the considerable bulge in his pants.

  Her gaze moved back up his strong physique and settled on his handsome, chiseled face, etched with a hint of tension. His cheekbones w
ere soft, and his squared chin firm. The deep brown of his eyes reminded her of wet pools of sand, framed by long, sooty lashes. His charcoal black hair was neat and short, the back barely touching his collar from what she could see. She liked a man who kept up his appearance. Last, she focused on his lips. Full and perfect to crush against hers. A slow blaze built up inside her at the thought of where else those lips would be perfect. It made her pussy flood.

  “About those questions you wanted to ask, Officer Valenti,” she prompted.

  “Yes.” He blinked long and slow before straightening his posture. “For starters, what are you doing in here? Are you aware this house has been abandoned?”

  They weren’t the questions she wanted to answer, but would do so for now. “I’m aware.”

  His mouth curved at the corner. “Oh?”

  “I’ve been here before and not seen anyone. I wondered why no one has bought it yet.”

  “The previous owner passed away and the sale of the house has been held up by paperwork and other legalities,” he explained.

  She pressed her lips together. Sounded like money issues to her. She would never understand the preoccupation with it by humans. “That’s a shame.”

  “I read yesterday that it would be back on the market soon.”

  Her lips spread to a smile. “How wonderful. It deserves to have someone take care of it before it gets rundown.”

  “I agree.”

  Cassidy caught him staring at her again and heat filled her body. His eyes said so much about what went on behind them. Conflicted. Strained. Broken. Yet his stance gave him a commanding presence and she couldn’t ignore the strong air of confidence within him—a trait she’d thought lost in men. Despite his being distracted by her naked disposition, she sensed the makings of a true Master inside him. A Master every bit as loyal and committed to his slave as he was in his sense of duty. She would have to gain his trust and help him find himself again.