Page 356 of Property of Whiskey

“You wearing this and nothing else.”

Heat rolls straight through me.

“That so?”

“Yeah.”

“Anything else in this fantasy?”

His smile turns filthy.

“Handcuffs.”

I laugh softly. “Mine or yours?”

“You’re the deputy.”

“So you want me cuffed?”

Whiskey’s gaze holds mine.

“Didn’t say that.”

Oh.

My smile comes slowly.

“You want me to cuff you.”

“Equal ownership.”

I grab the front of his cut.

“Careful what you wish for.”

“Thought wishes were your thing.”

I kiss him harder.

My Interceptor is in the driveway. My house is still standing across town. My own keys are in my pocket. The door behind us is unlocked.

And inside that black leather against his chest is my name claiming him right back.

I slide my fingers beneath his collar until I find the hidden stitching.

WHISKEY, PROPERTY OF TWILA.

“Maybe tonight I find out how good a King looks in handcuffs.”

His eyes darken.

“Deputy.”

“What?”

“Wren better stay asleep.”

I grin.