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Excerpt: LOVE CUFFS by Ashlyn Chase

When I was good and hog-tied, someone, I assume it was Dorian—strong arms, scratchy material—lifted me effortlessly. Show off. I had one more hair-brained scheme that might work. Once I could assume I was outside and on my way to his car, I might be able to wriggle and squeal and make enough of a ruckus to attract the attention of someone who happened to be walking by the opposite end of the alley right at that moment. Hey, it could work.

Maybe I’d buy a little time if I wiggled out of his grasp, hit the ground and squirmed away.… Oh hell. I was caught. Might as well begin cooperating until he let his guard down.

They teach us that in Hostage 101. Well, okay, it’s not really called Hostage 101. It’s called Hostage Negotiations but regular town cops never get to do the important stuff. We get to watch while SWAT and the feds come in and take over. Yawn.

So it was time to cooperate and just lay in those strong arms, picturing Mr. Luscious carrying me to his car, which would, of course, be a black Mercedes or Lexus. Even wrapped in a blanket as I was now, his heat penetrated my skin and for some stupid reason it relaxed me.

The engine purred. I had been laid horizontal in the back seat, surprisingly gently. Now there was nothing to do but listen for sounds of the railroad, the ocean, or school children to figure out where I was. Unfortunately, with my luck I would probably hear all three at the same time and that would be as confusing as hell.

I tried to estimate the time we took to get to our destination. It may have been half an hour and the traffic noise was fairly light for a Friday evening. I guessed we were probably driving out of the suburban area into the country somewhere. Maybe he knew of some smelly, abandoned barn where he could store me. Oh, goody.

Toward the end of our ride, I sensed a change in elevation…hills or mountains since I was leaning into the back of the seat with more pressure. Okay maybe it’s a mountain cabin hideaway. I hoped for one of those nifty hunting cabins with guns hung on the walls. Yeah, that would be neat. But I doubted anyone could be that dumb.

Dorian hadn’t said a word. There was little reason to. I was unable to answer and completely at his mercy. I listened for sounds of crunching gravel or something to indicate that we were close to the destination. There seemed to be very little sound at all. A few birds chirping or maybe they were cicadas—I was never very good at nature sciences.

Finally, we glided smoothly to a stop. The back door opened a moment after the front door opened and closed. So I assumed it was Dorian who was lifting me up again and carrying me.

After the sound of a click and whoosh of a door opening and closing, I heard some short beeps. An alarm system. Well I guess I’d be safe and secure. Snort.

He gently laid me supine on another yielding surface and then sat me up. I was unbelievably relieved when he removed the duct tape and lifted the smothering bag off my head. Never mind that my hair crackled with static electricity and I probably looked like Bill the cat, I could breathe again. Now he stood before me, hands on hips, with a stern expression on his handsome face. No I’m not having Stockholm Syndrome or anything. He’s still a prick—just a devilishly good-looking one.

"Now if I take the ball out of your mouth are you going to yell, spit or verbally abuse me? In other words, will I just have to put it back where it was?"

I shook my head.

"Promise?"

His lips twitched in amusement. "You’re a naughty girl, aren’t you? Funny, I had you pegged for a prude."

Indignant at the insulting near truth, I bristled. "I’m not a prude."

He raised an eyebrow.

"I’ve had my share of experience but I’m sure it pales in comparison to yours." There. I hoped that would stroke his male ego.

"Perhaps you haven’t found a skilled lover—yet."

Oh, puleeease. Now who was being obvious? Should I feel ashamed of what I was about to do? Undoubtedly—even though it was part of the escape plan. So why didn’t I?

He dimmed the lights with one of those dimmer switches. It looked like he was prepared for anything. He slid in next to me and—Oh my God, protection!

"Do you have a condom?"

"Do I need one?"

Shit. I can’t believe I just assumed and he didn’t… My face heated. "Well, you never know. I mean—you might or you might not. I guess it all depends. I thought you…but if you didn’t…" I must have been blushing furiously. The curse of being blonde. Well, one of two curses and I had apparently demonstrated both.

"I like a woman who can still blush." He rose from the bed and retrieved a box from his dresser drawer. I didn’t know whether to be relieved or terrified.

My seduction seemed to be working and I hadn’t even tried. Maybe subconsciously… No, that couldn’t be true. I mean, I know he’s tall, dark and as sexy as sin but my libido wasn’t that out of control, was it? No, I knew exactly what I was doing—or so I told myself.

Then he set the box on the bedside table and stroked my cheek with the back of his fingers. Lying down, facing me, he tipped my chin toward him and stared into my eyes. Their dark intensity promised a few pages for my secret memoirs. I hadn’t planned to write any but after tonight, I might need to.

"What shall we do, Hope?"

Screw like rabbits? Yeah, I was in control, all right. I was praying that he’d free my wrist soon and after we were done, I could take my best shot at his tender groin.

"If you’ll just let me have my other hand, I can do some marvelous things."

He shook his head. "Clearly, I’m not going to do that. Perhaps I can begin while you think of creative uses for your one hand, thighs and feet."

Feet? He wants me to use my feet? Don’t tell me he has a foot fetish too. I wanted to squirm away from him but just then he pulled me forward and held me in his iron grip. His lips clamped down on mine and he swiftly injected his tongue into my mouth as I tried to gasp, creating a luscious vacuum instead.

He pushed me onto my back and it only took another minute of passionate kissing before my one free hand decided on its own to caress and squeeze his ass. Meanwhile my feet were busy twining around his legs. He pulled loose, quickly unlaced the corset and dived for my breasts.

We strolled down the hall past some insurance office to a door marked Ds Enterprises. "How subtle."

"I like it," he said. He unlocked the door and ushered me inside. "Juliet should have dropped off some new clothes for you by now." He pointed to a large shopping bag on the black leather couch and said, "Ah. There they are."

As soon as he’d double and triple locked the door behind us, he unlocked my wrist cuff and I can’t tell you how good it felt. I rubbed the soreness out, even before diving into the bag to see what Santa had brought. Okay, so I’m Jewish and shouldn’t refer to Santa. But let me tell you, if the old man accidentally mixed up the addresses and mistook me for some girl on his nice list, I wouldn’t have minded or given back the presents.

The first thing I pulled out of the bag floored me. A powder blue vinyl dress—with the boobs cut out! I twisted it around to see the back and saw two matching low holes for the derriere. "Are you kidding me?"

Dorian had been headed for his massive safe but whirled around to see what my indignant cry was about. I held up the micro-mini Swiss cheese dress.

"What the hell?" His mouth hung open as he rushed to the couch and dumped the bag upside down. Out poured the most inappropriate pile of crap I’d ever seen. One black stretch jumpsuit sported a few strategically placed gold zippers, the most prominent of which came with a heart-shaped padlock at the top of the crotch. Must have been a chastity bodysuit. Another micro-mini dress had been fashioned of some material with as much coverage as a dyed spider web. Then, to add injury to insult, a pair of bright red spike heels so high they’d stand me up on my tiptoes.

Santa must have mixed me up with a girl on his naughty list. "Hmmm, these leave little to the imagination," I said. "Either, A, Juliet thinks I have such a great body I ought to show it off or B, she hates me. I’m pretty sure the answer is B."

Dorian still gaped as if he couldn’t believe anyone might be passive-aggressive enough to deliberately misunderstand his orders. "How the hell am I supposed to get you on a plane in one of these?"

I shrugged. Anything I had to say would have been redundant.

I could hear the elevator already on its way up, so I wondered how he was going to explain the handcuffs to whomever exited, if it stopped on our floor.

"She obviously had her reasons and I don’t have the time nor patience to listen to them. Don’t worry. Suzanne has class. She carries only haute couture in her store."

"Unlike a certain Dominatrix I know of."

He tucked his hand behind his back, Napoleon-style and my arm followed, like it or not. Now he looked like some kind of arrogant general with a chick who couldn’t keep her hands off him. Sheesh, what an ego.

Fortunately, for him, there was no one getting off the elevator as we got on. He looked down at me and winked—like we were co-conspirators or something. By the time we made it to the car, I had decided it might be best to let him think we were.

"Dorian, can you leave me unshackled? I promise I won’t run."

"Why should I believe you?"

"Well, for one thing, we’re going shopping. I’ve never welched on a shopping trip—ever."

He chuckled. "You’re cute when you’re not annoying the hell out of me."

At last. He might be letting his guard down. I relaxed my shoulders and warmth flowed into them, making me realize how tight I’d been holding my muscles. He opened my door and unchained himself from my wrist, meanwhile blocking any exit to freedom with his big, hunky body. If I wanted him to believe me, I had to play along for a while.

I settled into the butter-soft, leather seats and sank against the contoured back. "Ahhh… Much better than riding around like Quasimodo."

Without emotion, he said, "Fasten only your lap belt."

Why only the lap belt, I wondered. Was he going to make me lean over and shackle me to my ankle, anyway? With a sigh, I did as he asked. Well, he didn’t exactly ask but I did as he ordered, anyway.

He closed my door, jogged around to the other side and got in.

"See? I didn’t try to escape."

"Smart move. This machine goes a couple hundred miles an hour, so I doubt you’d outrun me. Doing something like that would only anger me and then I’d have to cancel our shopping trip and make you wear the black jumpsuit."

"You don’t think that would cause a stir at the airport? All those zippers would probably set off the metal detector."

"We could always drive."

I gasped. Was he serious?

"Time to get out, lover," Dorian said.

That damn, suede-soft voice of his turned me on all over again. What was wrong with me? Was I a nympho? I just wanted to jump his bones at every turn. As he opened his car door and got out, the drag on my arm reminded me that I had to scoot over to his side—either that or pull my cuffed arm out of its socket.

"Haven’t you ever enjoyed the feeling of allowing your lover some freedom, knowing they’ll stay because they want to—not because they have to?"

A look of surprise crossed his face. "Are you saying you’d stay with me because you want to?"

"No. Just curious."

He humphed—if that’s a word. At any rate he made a noise that sounded like disappointment.

I probably should have minded my own business, because after that he towed me a little roughly up to the front door of a well-hidden home. As Ivan unlocked it, he said, "Welcome to my hillside hacienda."

Holy Shit. As we entered the main home from the foyer, a large open floor plan revealed the size of the place. Travertine stone floors and one wall of solid rock gave it a semi cave-like feel. Some hacienda! Were all Doms stinkin’ rich cavemen? The opposite wall of glass looked out over millions of glittering lights that could only be Sin City at night. If I had to be held hostage, this beat the heck out of a grubby warehouse.

"Thanks, man." Dorian clapped his friend on the shoulder and waited for him to set the alarm.

As I think I’ve said before, patience isn’t one of my virtues. Hell, even virtue isn’t one of my virtues. "So, asshole, are you going to unhook us now, or what?"

Dorian tucked his hand in his pants pocket.

Ivan’s eyes bugged out. "Man, I know you like a challenge and everything but are you going to let her talk to you like that?"

"I’ve had to muzzle her before but it doesn’t seem to do much good. I don’t think she can be broken."

Broken? Housebroken? I know we had that whole dog discussion earlier but I thought it was metaphorical. "What the hell do you mean by that?"

The infuriating bastard didn’t answer me.

Ivan continued their conversation as if I weren’t even in the room. "Most subs aren’t this mouthy even in the beginning. Are you sure she’s worth it?"

Dorian laughed. "I’m not sure of anything where Hope’s concerned."

"Wait just a minute. What are you two blabbering about? I’m not a sub. Never was and never will be." Just for emphasis, I slapped Dorian’s shoulder. "And by the way, in case you didn’t notice, I’m right here!"

Ivan shook his head. "I guess we’d better find Larry soon. I can’t stand her abusing you much longer."

That struck me so funny, I burst out laughing.

"I’ll have to stay here and watch her. Even though she can’t escape, I’m sure she’ll try. I don’t want her fucking up your alarm system if she tries to disable it."

"Better you than me, buddy. Listen, make yourself comfortable. Larry can be hard to find when he doesn’t want to be bothered by his fans. I might be gone a while."

"Who’s Larry, anyway?" Larry the lounge lizard? That would be just what I needed.

"He’s the hypnotist we’ve been looking for," Dorian said. "Although from the sounds of it, we might as well be searching for the Holy Grail."

"Oh, that’s just awesome. So then what? Am I going to spend the rest of my life bound to you?"

He smiled, wryly. "Would that be so bad?"

I always knew there were many facets of vanilla but was it too much to ask that if I fell in love with a vanilla woman, she would at least be at the French vanilla level? Christ. The dildo I chose wasn’t even a jelly, or a two prong. Then she made it clear where she thought I was going to shove the thing and it was all I could do not to roll on the floor laughing. I mean, I absolutely intended to boldly go where apparently no man had gone before, just not at that moment. She needed time before she’d enjoy that particular dessert. Lots of time.

Once again, she’d annoyed me, surprised me, then made me laugh. Once again, I was so hard I wasn’t sure I’d last long enough to add any flavor when plain felt so fucking good. But there we were, dildo in hand and I was determined to give some light play a try.

"Don’t worry," I assured her. "I think I know your limits but feel free to tell me if I don’t. You will anyway. Just keep in mind that I really do want you to enjoy the experience and I know you’ll love this one."

She said something but I tuned it out after the word "fine" left her mouth. I had those soft lips under mine, a velvety nipple burning my palm and—oh shit!—my dick in her hand. I tried but I couldn’t tune that out, even at the risk of unmanning myself on the sheets. Straddling her didn’t help my control but it did distract me enough to realize what was going on. She was trying to get the last word in without speaking. No, she wasn’t trying, she was succeeding. Then she was stroking my cock with one hand and my balls with the other and I figured I had no problem with her not saying another word all night. In fact, it would have been kinda nice…

As good as she’d look in a pearl necklace, I did stop her before that happened. There was another pearl to explore first.

Oh yeah. "You’re already wet for me," I marveled. God, she was so slick and hot and soft it was all I could do not to bury my dick and shoot to the moon. But she’d made it clear she wasn’t willing to land on Uranus and I really wanted to introduce her to Mr. Buzzjoy. I made sure there was a spacesuit within reach and maneuvered in for a taste of her Milky Way.

All space euphemisms aside, I was in heaven. I was exactly where I wanted to be and exactly with whom I wanted to be. It took every bit of control I had to remember to insert the dildo and man, was it worth it. She went absolutely crazy.

I brought her to supernova twice and would have gone for a third round but she had other ideas. I should have been prepared for that. Then again, nothing could have prepared me for the moment I felt and saw Hope Daniels go down on me with passion.

"So, is Ivan your first Master?" I asked.

"No. I’ve had a few that didn’t work out. I guess I was hard to tame."

If she was hard to tame, what was I? Suddenly feeling like a Tasmanian Devil or recently captured Tiger, I figured it was simply a matter of time before I mauled someone. I just hoped nobody had a dart gun.

"So, is that what they call ‘breaking’ you?"

"Yes, exactly," she replied and smiled. Like I understood or something.

I shook my head and clucked my tongue. "It sounds like they broke your spirit."

Her posture straightened and she eyed me suspiciously. "What do you mean by that?"

Uh-oh. Dangerous territory. Don’t make her reach for that cell phone, Hope. "I just meant that a relationship should be voluntary and mutual."

"Oh, it is! I want to give myself over to Ivan. I need that. And he needs me just as much."

Yeah, to boss around. "I see. So what do you need each other for?"

"Mutual pleasure, of course. And I’m happy to have someone else to make decisions for me. In my public life, I have to make a lot of decisions. Life or death decisions at times, and the responsibility overwhelms me."

I hadn’t figured this woman for a life and death decisions kind of gal. Now that she said that, I could kind of picture her in a white uniform. "But what if you don’t agree with his decisions?"

"I can respectfully ask that he consider something else. He only wants what’s best for me."

"Seriously? In my experience, men only want what’s best for themselves."

"Perhaps you need to consider a different type of man?"

Different, huh? One thing I could say about Dorian—he was definitely different. But be that as it may, I wanted my freedom and I wanted it badly. I’d miss the best lovin’ I’d ever had but hell, even Nina seemed freer than I was at the moment. Maybe in another life Dorian and I… Nah… Probably not.

"I have to visit the little girl’s room," I said and stood.

"Oh, sure. You know where it is, right?"

It didn’t matter, because I wasn’t really going there anyway. I was grabbing that cell phone and fighting my way out of that posh prison. Poor Nina looked as if she couldn’t fight her way through a sale at Filene’s Basement.

I dashed for the counter and seized the cell phone, then I ran for the living room as fast as my stocking feet would carry me. By the time she reached me, I had already pocketed the phone, picked up one of the modern metal chairs and charged toward one of the sidelights on either side of the glass front door. The door itself would be triple strength but those sidelights looked a little more vulnerable. With enough momentum and a battering ram like the back of that steel chair…

Smash! Alarms went off and I thought my ears would explode. I turned sideways and managed to fit through the opening without impaling myself on any chunks of glass.

Great. Ivan and I had located Larry the Hypnotist. In fact, we were sitting in the guy’s driveway. Only he’d left town again, for a gig in Georgia. My choices were now severely limited because there was no way in hell that Hope would willingly drink anything I handed her before boarding a plane and the gig was in Georgia, as in the former USSR.

Could I trust her enough at this point to simply let her go?

"You’re not letting her go." Ivan said.

Great. Either Ivan was a mind reader, or I’d become a transparent Dom. The former wasn’t likely and the latter didn’t bode well for my profession.

"Do you like what you do for a living, Dorian?"

"What kind of a question is that? I’m damned good at what I do!" I turned toward him and gave him by best glare but he didn’t so much as flinch. Of course, he wasn’t some sub defying his master, he was a club owning Dom used to being in charge.

Except the look on his face had nothing to do with the game. This was a friend, being honest with a friend.

"Being good at it doesn’t mean you like it," he calmly pointed out.

Shit. I literally felt the jolt of the nail hitting the head. The lifestyle was fine with me, hell, I enjoyed it but it wasn’t something I’d really chosen for myself. I had been born into it and I had become bored with it long before Hope barreled down the wrong aisle.

She’d cured my boredom both in bed and out.

For the first time since my parents had died, I found myself questioning my ability to make the right decision. For the first time in my adult life, I turned to someone else and asked, "What do I do now?"

"You finish what you started," Ivan said without a hint of indecision. "You find another hypnotist to do the job. She’s a cop, Dorian. She’ll never accept the club for what it is and there are people who rely on you, some of them for their very livelihood. When you’ve seen this through, then you go back and make the decision to continue on or not."

I got what Ivan was saying. Hope wouldn’t remember me but I’d know who she was and could approach her as vanilla if that’s the life I chose.

"Let’s find out who’s second best in Vegas and get this over with."

Ivan started the car and we headed back to his house to do some research. He didn’t say much, which was fine with me. I had a lot to think about, as it was and I still intended to slip another round of cock worship in before Hope’s mind got wiped. I had no problem teaching her what I liked all over again but hey, I wasn’t stupid.

By the time we pulled into Ivan’s driveway, I knew it was going to be fuck first, research later. There was only one problem.

Hope was gone.

The front door was wide open but as we got out of the car and approached, it became apparent that she’d escaped by smashing the glass next to the door. Expensive glass, apparently. Ivan hadn’t stopped cursing since we’d pulled up. Then we caught sight of Nina, cowering in the corner of the living room. One look at Ivan’s face and I began to wonder if she should have gone with Hope.