Cuff Master (9 page)

“I do have one question, baby,” he said. “Are you on birth
control pills or something else to prevent pregnancy? I’m clean and we’ll use
condoms for now, but I need to make sure you’re protected.”

“I’m on low-dose birth control, to regulate my period,” she
answered, thinking it wise for them to discuss protection. “And I’m clean too.
I’ve even been tested, regardless of how long ago it’s been since I was
sexually active.”

“That’s good to know, thank you,” he said. “I’ve been tested
as part of my annual physical. I had to make sure that I didn’t bring anything
into our relationship once I convinced you that I’m a nice guy.”

“You are nice. You ever think of modeling?” she asked,
thinking that a guy as handsome as Ethan Maddox, with his sharp cheekbones,
strong jaw, gray eyes and full masculine mouth, would look good on the cover of
a magazine.

He was one hundred percent natural and all male. Nothing
artificial had been used to brighten his teeth. Although he was confident and
could be a bit bossy, he wasn’t conceited. He was who he was and Morgan was
willing to admit the bossiness was a turn-on.

With the simplest of touches, Ethan made her want him. Her
pussy was dripping wet. Her pulse raced. A curiously pleasant tightening of the
muscles deep in her belly drew sharper, vibrating, the sensation shimmering
through her and making her gasp.

She’d never experienced that sensation before. If she didn’t
know better, she’d say she’d had a mini-orgasm.

“Actually, in college I did some photo shoots for a fitness
magazine doing a spread on martial artists. Didn’t pay a huge amount, but I was
able to afford beer because of it.”

“Ah, the nectar of the college boy crowd,” she teased.
“You’re a handsome devil, Detective. There’s no denying that.”

“Thanks. That being said, how about we seal the deal?”

Pretending she didn’t understand or notice the tightening of
his hand and the way he leaned in, she grinned and asked, “Seal the deal?”

“Um-hmm, like this,” he encouraged, his subtle movements
enticing her to shift closer to him.

No sooner than she’d murmured something she hoped was
intelligible, his mouth was on hers, taking her heart by storm and kicking her
world right out of its orbit.

Completely beholden to the taste and feel of his kiss,
Morgan parted her lips for the plunder of his tongue. Strong, masculine and
consummately gentle, Ethan guided her into a kiss so intimate and pure, it
stole her heart.

She really, really wanted a shower, a change of clothes and
some food, but she’d far rather stay right where she was. Her tummy had
different plans. Even as Ethan’s hand began to slowly comb through her tangled
hair, growls of hunger became louder than the two cats purring nearby.

Chuckling out loud as Ethan drew back, she couldn’t hide the
rush of heat that swarmed into her cheeks. “Sorry, guess I’m hungrier than I’d
realized.”

“It’s all good,” he assured. “I’ll go make something to
eat.”

“No meat,” she warned.

“Yeah, learned that when we met. Are you okay if I have it?
I’m not sure I can give up my carnivorous habits, but I can confine it to work
or at Cassie’s diner.”

“I feel healthier being a vegetarian. You can eat whatever
pleases you, Sir.”

Again his left brow shot up, his lips parted and his tongue
slipped out as if he hadn’t had a meal in days. “If you knew what I want to eat
right now, you’d know that’s a dangerous thing to offer.”

“What would that be?”

“You.” Ethan sat up and moved off the bed. “You mentioned
not having clothes. I had Sam go by your place and pick up a few things. Remy’s
been watching over your shop until you’re ready to return. Plants are watered.”

“That was nice of them,” Morgan said, grateful to hear her
store was in good hands.

“I’m risking a whole lot of hassle from my partner if I
don’t take care of you properly. Sam can kick ass and holds a grudge. I’ve
witnessed her temper in action. I pity Taran sometimes. God help him when he
finally breaks through her armor.”

“Sam wants Taran. But there are times when his dominance and
arrogance scare her. She’s sure she’s too old for him regardless and doesn’t
see herself as submissive. She’d prefer Taran view her as a Dominant.”

“When you work stakeouts and cases and put creeps behind
bars with a partner, you find out a lot about that person. I’d trust Sam with
my life. But the one thing I’ve come to suspect, she’s a lot like Alex Grant,
if you know what I mean.”

“Not sure that I do. She’s spent years projecting a
tough-as-nails image around her male counterparts, including you, Ethan.”

“Sam wants men to see her as a Dominant. Is she? I think
she’s a switch with a tendency to be submissive. Whether Taran can submit is
another story,” Ethan explained.

“You think Phalen’s a badass? He taught Taran and I
everything there is to know about the D/s lifestyle, but Taran’s the most
dominant of the three of us. He makes most of the furniture and leather gear we
sell online.”

“Maybe he wants you and Phalen to think that,” Morgan
suggested, glad that Cassie had confided in her once about the internet-based
company the Maddox brothers started several months ago.

“Guess Sam’s the one who’ll find out for sure,” Ethan
conceded.

“Can I take a shower?”

“Yes. Ryan used disposable sutures to close the wound on
your forehead. You’re to keep the small bandage on while showering and change
it when you’re done. Bandages, antibiotic cream and meds are in the guest
bathroom. Do you need help?”

“I can handle it, thank you.”

“Spoil sport. If you need me, I’ll be in the kitchen. Word
of warning, if you’re not back or I don’t hear you walking around up here in
fifteen minutes, I’m coming to check on you.”

“I’ll be fine.” She brushed the blankets off, upsetting the
cats enough that they scrambled to the foot of the bed, each a little miffed at
losing another resting spot. “Sorry, loves. I’ll make it up to you later. You
can sleep with me.”

“Nope,” Ethan denied. “I don’t wear anything in bed. Not
risking the claw marks in the middle of the night.”

“You can’t sleep here,” she said, her heart racing madly. “I
don’t need a nursemaid, Ethan. There are other rooms in this house. You can bar
the cats from that room if you want to.”

“Let me be clear, Morgan. You’re mine. I’ll be careful with
you due to the stitches and bruising, but we share a bed from now on.”

“What if I’m not ready to make love? Being with you is new
to me.”

“We’ll sleep. We’ll talk. And we’ll sleep some more.” He
wore a pair of boxers and nothing else. Wow! Talk about six-pack abs, a woman
could do laundry on Ethan’s stomach.

For a man who co-owned a Boston tattoo shop and worked at
Phalen’s Salem shop whenever he wasn’t doing his detective gig, he didn’t have
too much ink. What he had was high-quality artistic work.

On his right biceps was a detective’s shield. A Celtic cross
with his parents’ names surrounding it in green and black ink was on his left
bicep. He half turned and she saw a pair of hockey sticks and a growling bear
underneath representing the Boston Bruins on his right shoulder blade.

His legs were long. His shoulders broad and his muscles were
splendidly defined. He held a second-degree black belt in Taekwondo and was
studying Kung Fu with Alex Grant as his teacher. He was lean, fit and
undeniably hot.

No wonder he’d modeled for a magazine. The publication must
have made a fortune off the ladies who’d purchased that issue.

“I’ve never been with a man like you, Ethan Maddox. You’re
incredibly gorgeous. What if I don’t measure up to who you’ve been with in the
past?”

As hot as he looked, it was his confidence that attracted
her the most. “Don’t doubt yourself with me, ever. When you’re ready, we’ll
become lovers.”

He came up to her, offering his hand as she began to rise.
His concern touched her heart. He didn’t let go until he was sure she wasn’t
going to crumble onto the floor. She was a little weak, but not unsteady.

And it wasn’t her recent illness that left her breathless.
It was looking down and seeing for herself that the front of Ethan’s boxers was
significantly tented.

“You all right, sweetie?” he asked, moving his hand from her
fingers to her waist and holding tight.

“I’m good,” she assured.

“Okay, fifteen minutes. I will come back by then.”

“I believe you.”

He dropped his hand and headed across the room to a
suitcase, where he scrambled through his things for a pair of jeans. Shrugging
them on quickly, he carefully zipped the front.

“You sure you don’t want help in the shower?”

“I’ll be fine. Go.”

Ethan continued to grumble about her being a spoil sport and
left the room. Samson and Delilah used the opportunity to soak up some
attention.

Petting both cats gently, Morgan giggled at them. “So what
do you think? He’s been your babysitter for a couple days now. Is he daddy
material or what?”

Two pairs of amber eyes stared at her from orange and gray
tabby faces. The biggest, Samson, stretched and stood up to request more
scratches.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” she said to the tabby. “You both
look well fed and happy. Of course, it’s hard to upset Maine Coons.”

Delilah wasn’t one to sit back and let her brother take
center stage. She crossed the bed, nudging the gray tabby aside. “I love you
too, sweetheart.” She gave Delilah some scratches and moved on.

A little more hurried, she found a small suitcase next to
Ethan’s and grabbed some panties, a bra, a burgundy and dark blue paisley print
skirt and a burgundy sweater. She also found an overnight bag stuffed with
toiletries and her favorite hairbrush and carefully slung it over her shoulder.

The guestroom was decorated with dark cherry wood furniture,
rich forest colors of light, emerald and medium greens and a queen-sized sleigh
bed with pale green sheets and a dark-green bedspread. Green and burgundy throw
rugs complemented the rich cherry wood tones of the floor.

It was a lovely room, big and homey at the same time. It was
at least twice as big as the master bedroom in her apartment and had a small
alcove with a picture window, two wing-back chairs and a round coffee table
with a reading lamp in the center.

Morgan wasn’t sure how long she would stay here with Ethan.
She didn’t even know when he’d have to return to work. He’d mentioned on the
phone the other day that he’d taken a couple weeks off to house-sit for Phalen
and Cassie. She certainly couldn’t expect him to ignore his cases and his
duties to the police department.

There was plenty of time to ask, so she gathered her things
up close and walked to the big bathroom. There was no bathtub, but the shower
was spacious. The fixtures were polished brass. The vanity was made of white
marble and light cherry wood. Small white rugs kept the tiled floor from being
cold.

She’d spent enough time in the house while helping to plan
the wedding that she was used to the environment. She could touch most objects
and separate her mind from the memories or was familiar enough with them that
she wasn’t overwhelmed.

Rustling through the bag, she knew she couldn’t shower until
she brushed her teeth. Nothing had ever felt nicer than brushing her teeth,
flossing and rinsing with mouthwash.

After she spit out the rinse, she looked at the mirror. A
small bandage covered the sutured wound on her forehead. Thankfully, it was no
longer swollen, rather a weird mix of purple, black and yellow bruising.

Unsure how much time she’d taken, she stripped off the
sweats, walked to the shower, opened the door and turned on the brass faucets.
Warm water rained down, enticing her to step inside and soak it in.

Careful to close the see-through door before water spilled
out, she appreciated the simplicity of getting clean. Shampoo and conditioner
were on a hanging rack. She grabbed up the sweet-smelling shampoo, scrubbed
gently to avoid her forehead and rinsed.

Like brushing her teeth, it was a simple function of life.
But it was refreshing and wonderful. Clean water and soap gave her strength,
made her smell nice again.

After her body was clean and her hair washed and
conditioned, she finished up by lathering her palms with the big white bar of
soap Ethan must have used the last two days.

Widening her thighs and squatting a little, she used the
lather to scrub her mons and pussy. She’d learned to trim her bush on her own,
but soft auburn pubic hair covered her mound. She wondered what Ethan would
think or if he’d ask her to go bare.

With that in mind, she cupped her hands with warm water and
rinsed the soap away. She’d been watching the suds swirl down the drain when
she realized she wasn’t alone.

Turning slowly, she saw Ethan standing in the doorway to the
bathroom. As promised, he’d returned.

She shouldn’t have been surprised by that or the way his
cock filled out his jeans. The zipper was strained and she was sure the top
button was going to pop open all on its own.

Holy cow! Water continued to spill gently over her head.
She’d purposefully kept it from full blast to avoid damaging her sutures.
However the heat in the shower rose significantly.

“Morgan?”

“Yes?”

“If you linger in there one more second, I’m going to let
the soup burn.”

“Stay where you are,” she insisted, putting out one hand to
rest it on the shower wall. “I’m almost done.”

“I want you so badly right now, all I can think about is
joining you in there and fucking you until we’re both too raw and sore to
move.”

Blinking away the water running in her eyes, she trembled
with need. Desire took root deep, deep in her pussy.

It was so strong she almost tossed back her head and said,
“Join me, big boy”. Instead, she reached up to turn off the shower.