She’s going to ruin two long, hard years of work within my club, and it’s going to get her killed. To protect her, I’ll have to keep her dangerously close. Close enough to run my rough hands down her smooth curves.
She says she’s all business, but I can see her fierce, brown eyes wandering over my body. The sexual tension between us is stronger than the handcuffs she has me in.
She’ll never trust me. She shouldn’t.
Because I’m not the criminal she thinks I am….
I swallowed, then forced myself to proceed. “Sorry to bother you. I just… I dropped my wedding band in there. Can I please come in and look around for it?” My voice was both frantic and nervous, very little of which was acting.
Calm down. He’s just another fugitive, I reminded myself.
“You dropped your wedding band in the men’s bathroom?” As soon as the door opened, I pushed my way inside and then closed it tightly. I would need privacy for what came next.
“Not exactly.” I smiled innocently.
Mason’s eyes narrowed as he worked out if he’d seen me before. It was irrational, I knew, but I felt a little wounded by that. How many girls did he pull that stunt with on the highway?
“You,” he said, brushing his hair back. A slow smile crept across his rugged tan face. “White SUV?”
I smiled back slightly and dipped my head. “Yeah.”
Mason Stone lived up to his namesake. His dark, sand-colored body looked rock hard. I fought the urge to run my fingers down his torso. I’d never seen any man in person who was in as good shape as he was. He was something out of a magazine.
“I take it you’re not looking for a ring,” Mason remarked, letting his eyes wander down my body as well.
“No.” It was hard to keep my concentration.
“Then what can I do for you?” My heart rate spiked at the smokey tone of his question. It held so many implications.
I exhaled through gritted teeth. I was a little afraid. I also felt something else as well, something I hadn’t felt in a very long time. It was an undeniable, primal attraction. Why did he have to be so damn handsome?
“I need you to put these on.” I tossed him a pair of handcuffs. His expression went from sexy to surprised to amused. “Please?” I added coyly.
His smile widened. “Wish I could, love, but I’m—”
You’re here for a reason. Time to get to work. I took another breath and steadied myself, then pulled my pistol on him. “I insist.”
The mischievous smile bled from Mason’s face. “Shit. What’s all this?”
“Put them on.” I clutched the gun tighter. “Now.”
“All right, take it easy.” Mason calmly snapped the restraints on both wrists, then held them up. “So, what are you? Statie, FBI, Marshal?”
Jackson Kane is a professional stuntman, athlete, romance author, and above all else, a hopeless romantic. From American Ninja Warrior, to some of your favorite films, Jackson brings a unique writing style forged from countless harrowing adventures.
He’s a lover of travel, his fans, his romance author peers, dulce de leche, and all things beautifully weird and interesting. He invites you to relax, have a pisco sour and let him thrill and excite you in a way no other author can. Jackson will show you what the world looks like through the eyes of a genuine Bad Boy.
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