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“Hands over your head,” I whisper. I ease back so there’s room for her to lay down, and when her hands go over her head, I click the cuffs in place.

She freezes.

“You did not,” she whispers. “You just cuffed me.”

I don’t imagine that thread of fear I hear in her voice. Or is it anger?

She has no idea who I am. No idea what I’m capable of. Little does she know I plan on keeping it that way.

“I did.”

“What… will you do now?”

“Shhh.” I put my fingers to her lips. “No more talking. Lay just like that.”

If there was room in here, I’d have my face between her thighs right now, but it’s tight quarters. I’ll wait until I get her to bed for that. For now, I press my fingers to her pussy and circle her clit.

She opens her mouth to say something and freezes. I shake my head to remind her, no talking. “Just like that. I’m gonna—”

A branch cracks behind us.

Fuck.

Her whole body tenses, but she doesn’t move. Wordlessly, I unfasten the cuffs and drag her arms back down. If we need to move, I need her mobile.

“We weren’t followed here,” she whispers. Her first thought goes to being followed?

“We weren’t.” No one follows me without my knowledge, no matter how distracted I am by a beautiful woman. No one.

It’s not an animal, no. It sounded too purposeful, like a human’s steps.

We lay still. I hear the murmur of voices. My gun’s in my hand and my body’s over hers. On instinct, I’ve got her beneath me to protect her, but her hand’s on my chest.

“Get off,” she hisses. “Get off.”

“No, and shut it,” I hiss back.

Jesus. Now is not the time for her to play the goddamn feminist card.

I listen for the sound of a tussle, for more than one person, for heavy breathing to indicate if they’re nearby. Hell, I’m half expecting to hear a gunshot.

There’s nothing. No screams. No reactions. No feet running. It wouldn’t be kids sneaking behind their parents’ backs. They’d be laughing and yelling and swearing and smoking weed or drinking. Why here, when there are a million other places to go?

A year ago I came here with my brothers to witness an execution. This is a place suitable for a crime, and it isn’t my fault my mind immediately goes there. It’s who I am.

I’ve been the one to pull that trigger. You push them to their knees and gag them so they can’t scream, or they’re drugged before you pull the trigger, especially out here with the way sound carries over water. Although anyone out here to execute someone would use a silencer. If they were smart, anyway.

When she shoves me again, I shake my head.

“Stay down,” I order. I ain’t flirting anymore. My words are deadly calm, and she feels the command. I can tell by the way she goes perfectly still.

I pull the safety off my gun with one hand while I reach for my keys and the cuffs with the other. “Get down as low as you can go.”

She flattens herself beside me and reaches for her bag.

“I don’t need you to protect me,” she whispers. She’s wriggling like a scared puppy. I look down to see a gun in the palm of her hand. Inanely, I quickly glance at my own gun, as if she took it from me with a trick of sorcery, but no, this is a different one. Hers. Who the fuck is she?

There’s a splash of water and the sound of oars. Someone’s in a boat, paddling away. They didn’t want to leave evidence behind.

They didn’t know we were here. We’re safe.

For now.

I push her into her seat and fasten her in. I reach for her hand and she lets me.

We’ll have a talk about that gun and what she’ll do when she’s with me.

Jesus. Who is this woman? Why does she have a gun?

She’s probably wondering the same about me.

“Put the fucking gun away,” I whisper in a low voice. I normally have a good sense of humor, but not when it comes to a fuckin’ loaded pistol.

“Aww, no I show you, you show me?” She tips her head to the side. This woman’s gonna find herself ass up over my knee while I teach her not to be so laissez-faire about holding a goddamn firearm.

“Let’s go, handsome,” she says with a sultry smile. “They’re gone, and I want to finish what we started.”

CHAPTER THREE

Emma

“Not sure about you, doll,” he says in that smooth, sexy way of his. “But I like the idea of not going home tonight. You?”

I smile softly to myself and nod. “I like that idea, too.”

No apartments, no houses, no roommates or whatever it is he’s got, and no one wondering about the details of my personal life. “You’ve got an idea of where to go?”

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