Dirty Sexy Cuffed (Dirty Sexy Series Book 3)

Levi was taking her to his place. Sarah had mixed emotions about his announcement, because that meant they were going to be completely alone, instead of surrounded by people in a restaurant. Then again, this meant she had him all to herself for the night, and that made her . . . incredibly happy.

His two-story house was located on the outskirts of Chicago in what looked like a family-friendly neighborhood. On a late Sunday afternoon, kids were outside playing while adults were washing their cars, doing yard work, or sitting on their porch to enjoy the warm day. Levi waved to his neighbor as he turned into a driveway, then pulled the truck into the garage.

Once inside the house, she followed him into the kitchen. The decor was masculine, and from what she could see of the living room, there was a large brown sofa and ottoman, and a ridiculously large TV mounted on the wall. The kitchen itself was nicely laid out with upgraded appliances, and as soon as they entered, Levi set his keys on the counter, then turned around and started toward her.

The sudden sensual hunger shining in his eyes stole her breath as he closed the short distance between them, and when he reached her, he settled his hands on her waist and gently pushed her back, step by step, until she was trapped against the stainless steel refrigerator. The cool metal against her back was a startling contrast to the heat emanating off of him, even though he’d yet to press his body against hers. And dear Lord, she wanted that. She craved the feel of him—every single inch. Badly.

He let go of her waist and cradled her face in his warm palms. He tipped her head back slightly, so her gaze met his, and she felt herself getting lost in those incredible eyes. The light green irises were mesmerizing. Gorgeous and hypnotic. She could stare into them forever. There was something in the depths as he looked down at her, something that made her feel safe. Made her want to trust him with all her secret hopes and desires.

She couldn’t miss the carnal need there, either. She’d never known lust before—had never experienced it and had definitely never seen it etched across a man’s features and directed at her. Two firsts tonight. Her limbs grew heavy with desire as the hottest, sexiest man she’d ever met stared at her mouth like he was ten seconds away from ravishing her. Excitement and anticipation swirled inside of her belly, and she hoped she didn’t have to wait much longer than that.

“First things first,” he murmured huskily as he skimmed the pad of his thumb along her lower lip, making them part as if on silent command. “If I don’t finally feel your mouth against mine, I’m not going to be able to think of anything else during dinner. So, to eliminate that distraction, I need to kiss you. Are you okay with that?”

Unable to form a coherent answer that didn’t sound like a whimper of need, she nodded her head. Oh, yes, please.

With a slow, sinful smile that made her insides liquefy, his head slowly descended toward hers, and she closed her eyes, wanting to make sure she memorized everything about Levi and this magical, seductive kiss. His lips brushed across hers, so tempting and teasing, and there was nothing she could do to stop the soft sigh that escaped her.

Needing more, she gave in to the urge to slip her tongue out to touch his bottom lip. A low growl rumbled up from his chest, and what had started as slow and sweet suddenly turned hot and wild. With his big hands still framing her face, his mouth took control, opening wide as he slanted his lips firmly against hers while his tongue swept deep inside, making her moan with delight.

The incredibly erotic taste of him filled her senses, and his woodsy, masculine scent wrapped around her like an addictive drug she knew she’d never get enough of. So she took as much as she could now, letting him kiss her as hard and deep as he wanted, and quickly learned that he wasn’t a man who did anything halfway. The pleasure was indescribable. Beyond decadent and arousing. The intensity was off the charts, and the way he consumed her, the way he claimed her mouth as if he owned it, was nothing short of intoxicating.

She had no idea how much time passed before he finally ended the kiss, but she silently mourned the loss of his lips as they left hers. She opened her eyes, realizing that only two parts of his body had touched her the entire time. His mouth and his hands on her face, when she’d fully expected, and wanted, to feel his hard, muscled frame pinning her to the refrigerator. The fact that he hadn’t taken advantage of the situation was testament to this man’s impressive restraint.

“Fuck,” he breathed, his expression as dazed as she felt.

She managed a small laugh. “Yeah, that was so worth waiting for.”

“You were worth waiting for.” He glided his thumbs along her cheeks, which felt warm and flushed from his kiss. “By the way, you look beautiful tonight.”

Sarah knew she wasn’t a classic beauty, but the sincere compliment, combined with the adoring look in his eyes, made her believe it. If only for tonight. “Thank you.”

“I have a bottle of wine in the refrigerator,” he said with a smile, and to her disappointment, he let her go. “Would you like a glass while I make dinner?”

Ahhh, wine. Another luxury that she wasn’t about to refuse. “That sounds great.”

She moved away so he could retrieve the Chardonnay from the refrigerator, and she admired his backside—mainly his tight ass as he bent low to retrieve the bottle from the bottom shelf—in his soft, worn jeans. “What’s on the menu?”

“Chicken carbonara,” he said as he brought down a regular glass from the cupboard before giving her a pointed look. “Do not tell me you’re one of those women who only eats salad.”

She laughed. “Oh, my God, no. I love pasta.”

“Good.” Seemingly satisfied with her answer, he poured Chardonnay halfway into the tall glass, then brought it to her. “Sorry I don’t have wine glasses.”

“This will work just fine.” She took a drink of the cool, crisp, delicious liquid, watching as he recorked the bottle and put it back into the cooler. “You’re not having any?”

He shook his head as he started retrieving various ingredients from the refrigerator to make dinner and set them near the stove. “No. I don’t drink.”

She didn’t want to get in his way while he prepped and cooked the food, so she leaned against the granite counter on the other side of the stove from where he was working. “Wine, or alcohol in general?” she asked curiously as he pulled pots and pans from a cupboard and set them on the glass top burners.

“Any alcohol.”

He sounded so matter-of-fact about it, but as he’d also refused a prescription for narcotics, she suspected there was a whole lot more he wasn’t revealing when it came to liquor and medications. “Is there a reason why not?” she asked, genuinely wanting to know more. “Do you not like the taste, or did you have a really bad hangover that made you swear off of it altogether?” she teased.

He stopped what he was doing for a moment to glance at her, and there was something painful in his eyes that told her this was an emotional issue for him. “I’ve never had alcohol,” he admitted, his tone deceptively even. “But I saw enough as a kid with both alcohol and drugs to know they’re not something I’d like or enjoy. I know they hinder a person’s ability to think straight or logically, or function normally, and that lack of control is totally not my thing.”

She couldn’t help but wonder what he’d seen as a child that made him take such extreme steps as a man. Not to mention, there was that subtle issue with control again. Not in an abusive or aggressive way, but he’d just made it clear that it was important to him to always exercise restraint emotionally, mentally, and physically.

Why—on a deeper level than his pat explanation—was the question, and she found that part of his personality extremely fascinating. “Is that the reason you wouldn’t take the prescription for the painkillers from the doctor?”

“Yes.”

He gave her nothing more, so she let the subject go. After all, she had secrets of her own. She drank her wine, a little more self-conscious drinking it now that he chose not to, and watched as he chopped up the pancetta, then sautéed it with garlic and olive oil before adding the chicken to the pan to sear. He had one of those quick-boil burners that had a large pot of water roiling in no time flat. In went the pasta, and while that cooked, he whisked together the ingredients for the cream sauce. He didn’t use a recipe, and she was definitely in awe of his chef skills.

“Where did you learn to cook like this?” she asked as he combined everything into one pan and stirred so the sauce coated all the spaghetti.

“Cooking channels and recipes on the Internet,” he said with a shrug. “When you grow up eating macaroni and cheese from a box and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, then go on to eat tasteless MRE packs in the military, your adult palate craves food with more appetizing flavors.”

He’d just given her more bits and pieces of his past, and she stored the information away. “I’m so impressed.”

He grated a fresh block of parmesan cheese over the pasta dish, then took a fork and twirled the spaghetti and other creamy goodness around the tines. “Taste,” he said, and brought it up to her mouth.

She let him feed her the bite, and it was beyond amazing. Her deprived taste buds rejoiced, and she was pretty sure her eyes had just rolled back into her head. “Oh, my God,” she moaned. “I need to marry you.”

As soon as the words came out—which were meant to be playful and flirty—her eyes widened, and he merely grinned.

“That’s kind of hard to do when you’re leaving town,” he teased right back, but she saw the disappointment and questions in his eyes.

Still, he didn’t ask, respecting her privacy as she’d respected his.

He served up two plates, then picked up their dishes from the counter. “Come on, let’s go eat.”

She followed him over to a small dining table with four chairs. After she sat down, he placed her dinner in front of her, then took a seat across the table. They ate for a few quiet minutes, and she savored and enjoyed every single bite.

“So, what’s your story, Sarah Robins?” he asked after a while, his gaze inquisitive.

He was leaving it up to her to tell him only what she wanted. They were both so cautious and wary when it came to sharing anything personal, but she felt comfortable with Levi, in a way that allowed her to trust him with parts of her past. Even the difficult, painful parts. And she’d be a liar if she didn’t admit that she hoped if she divulged some things, he’d do the same.

“Well, I grew up in Barrington here in Chicago, and up until the age of eight, I had a great childhood,” she said with a smile, because those memories as a happy, carefree kid were the best ones she had. “Unfortunately, then I lost my parents, my younger brother, and my grandmother in a house fire that was started by an electrical shortage in the living room. From what I was told, the fire spread quickly at the bottom level, and by the time it reached the second story, where all the bedrooms were, the entire house was engulfed in flames, and there was no getting out.”

“Holy shit.” His forkful of pasta halted right above his plate, and he stared at her incredulously. “You were the only one to get out safely?”

“No, I wasn’t home that night.” The familiar sadness and guilt tightened in her chest, along with the devastation of having everything familiar and comforting ripped away from her in one fell swoop. “I was at a sleepover at a friend’s house. I didn’t find out until the next morning, when my friend’s mother told me. One day my family was there, and the next, they were gone.”

“Damn,” he muttered beneath his breath, his gaze soft with sympathy. “I’m so sorry.”

“I didn’t have any other relatives to live with, so I was put into foster care pretty quickly,” she went on, remembering how petrified she’d been like it had happened yesterday instead of so many years ago. “That was scary for a kid who’d just lost her family,” she admitted.

“I can only imagine.” He ate another bite of his dinner, and it was clear he wanted to know more. “Were you at least placed with a good family?”

She took a drink of wine to give herself a few extra moments. She’d never told anyone this story before, because it was the impetus for so many of the insecurities she carried with her, even as an adult—of not being good enough or loved enough for someone to stay with her, love her, and put her first.

It was a pattern she desperately wanted to break. “It took a couple of years, but the fourth family that took me in when I was twelve was wonderful, and it was the first time I let my guard down and allowed myself to believe I was wanted. They had a daughter my age, and we were inseparable and best friends. After about a year in their care, they decided they wanted to adopt me.”

“That’s great,” he said, though there was something about his too perceptive expression that told her he knew that things hadn’t ended well.

“It was great,” she agreed, remembering how elated she’d been when they’d told her the news, how safe and secure she’d felt for the first time since losing her entire family. “Until the husband got a job promotion that included moving to Germany. The Ackermans decided that it was too long and drawn out and complicated to go through the adoption process because of international laws, so they changed their minds. When they left for Germany, I was shuffled right back into the system.”

He set his fork down on his empty plate and swore beneath his breath. She couldn’t bring herself to glance across the table at him, to look into his eyes and see the pity she feared was reflected in his gaze.

After that heart-shattering rejection, she was never the same. Scared to trust anyone and afraid of becoming attached again, especially emotionally, she’d become withdrawn and had isolated herself, which in turn had made her a more difficult child to place. “I went through quite a few foster homes after that, and mostly the ones that were looking for a supplemental state paycheck instead of really wanting a child. When I turned eighteen and graduated from high school, I aged out of foster care and was completely on my own, with nowhere to go.”

“What happened?” he asked softly.

She finally allowed herself to look at Levi, and the compassion and understanding she saw on his face gave her the courage to answer him. “I was homeless for a while, struggling to find a job, and it was hard and terrifying. A woman at the shelter where I was staying put me in contact with an organization called Foster Link that helps young adults just out of the system who are struggling to survive because they don’t have a support system. They set me up with a caseworker, and she helped me get into an outreach housing program so I was no longer homeless. From there, we laid out a plan that included finding a job and focusing on a long-term career. Within a few weeks, I was working as a receptionist in a medical office, and I decided to take night classes at a local community college so I could work toward a nursing degree.”

For the first time in her life, she’d felt as though she’d finally found a path and had a direction, with a promising future. “Then about a year later, I met a guy at school. He was in my biology class, and after a few months of dating, I left the outreach housing program and we moved in together.”

She couldn’t even say that she’d loved James. She recognized now that her decision at the time had been more about her need for security and stability, and once again she’d believed she’d found that, this time with him. Except she’d discovered, belatedly, that James was all about himself, and he certainly hadn’t stuck around when things had gotten rough.

“The office I was working at went out of business, which left me jobless again,” she said as she absently slid her fingers along the condensation gathering on her glass while Levi listened silently. “And then one day, when I came home from an interview, all of James’ things were gone, and so was he.” He’d also taken all but ten dollars out of their joint savings account, leaving her flat broke, as well as unemployed. “So, I was on my own again. I had to drop out of school so I could work two jobs to get ahead, and, well, it’s been a struggle ever since.”

She couldn’t bring herself to tell Levi about Dylan—that once again she’d allowed herself to think that he was different, that he cared about her . . . when the entire time he’d had ulterior motives, and once he’d lured her into Sacrosanct, he’d become a possessive asshole. That’s when Sarah decided it was time to get out, any way she could.

“Sometimes, life is a struggle,” Levi said, as if he’d gone through his share of strife. “But it doesn’t always have to be that way.”

She smiled at his comment, knowing he was trying to be positive. “I believe that, too. Which is part of the reason I’m leaving Chicago. I’m ready for a fresh start somewhere new, a clean slate, so to speak, and since I don’t have anything or anyone tying me to this city, it’s the perfect time to go.”

“I get it,” he said softly, though she could have sworn she saw a glimmer of regret in his gaze. “But as long as you’re still here, there’s always a chance that something might change your mind.”

She shook her head. “I doubt it.” Her mind was made up, and even a man as sexy and kind as Levi wouldn’t detour her plans—not that he was offering her a reason to stay.

Things grew quiet, and she shifted in her chair and glanced down at her empty plate. “Dinner was wonderful. Thank you.”

“I’m glad you liked it.” He stood and picked up his dish. When she moved to do the same, he held out a hand to stop her before gathering her plate and utensils, too. “You stay right here. I’m just going to set these in the dishwasher and put away the leftovers. You ready for dessert? It’s something decadent and chocolate.”

She laughed and glanced up into his darkened green eyes, trying not to drown in their seductive depths. “You should know that I’m shameless when it comes to any kind of dessert. And if it’s chocolate, then I’ll be in heaven.”

He grinned and winked at her. “One trip to heaven, coming up.”

He went back into the kitchen, and she heard him at the sink as he cleaned up the dishes, then the sound of cupboard doors opening and closing, until he finally returned with two smaller plates.

She nearly moaned at the rich, indulgent dessert he set in front of her. “Did you make this?” she asked incredulously.

He laughed, the sound low and sexy as he sat across from her with his own slice of chocolate mousse cake. “No. My cooking skills don’t extend to desserts. I bought it. But don’t tell that to my sister-in-law, Samantha, who is a phenomenal pastry chef at one of those upscale bakeries downtown.”

Sarah doubted she’d ever meet the woman. “My lips are sealed,” she said, and took a bite of the melt-in-your-mouth cake, and this time, she did moan at the luscious texture and taste on her tongue.

Levi’s heavy-lidded gaze zeroed in on her mouth from across the table, and even with the distance between them, it still felt like a physical caress. “That’s the same sound you made when I kissed you,” he pointed out huskily. “It’s so fucking hot.”

Her face flushed and she managed to swallow the bite in her mouth. “That’s what happens when you feed me chocolate.”

“I like it,” he murmured, a bad-boy glint in his eyes. “So if I kissed you while you were eating chocolate, do you think it would be an orgasmic experience for you?”

Yes, and her body agreed. Especially those neglected girly parts between her legs that pulsed and tingled at the thought of his mouth on hers again. Or on any part of her.

She tried to shake off the sensation, and because she really wanted to finish her dessert, she changed the subject for now. “You said your parents were gone,” she said, touching on a topic he’d avoided earlier. “What happened?”

He arched a brow at her, seemingly disappointed that she hadn’t taken him up on his orgasmic offer. “Tit for tat?”

She shrugged, and yeah, maybe she was taking advantage of the fact that she’d just spilled her past to him. “Fair is fair.”

He didn’t answer right away. Finally, he shook his head and scrubbed a hand along his jaw, that guarded look behind his eyes fading away. “Jesus, I don’t even know where to start.”

The raw, honest emotion written all over his face already made her heart constrict, because she suspected his story was just as painful as hers had been. “Let’s start with your mother,” she prompted gently. “How did she pass away?”

Again, he hesitated, just long enough for her to think he’d changed his mind about sharing, but then he spoke. “My mother was a prostitute and a junkie,” he said, shocking her with his uncensored words. “For her, it was all about getting her next fix, so to pay for the drugs, she whored herself out. She didn’t give a shit about any of her kids, and when I was around eight, she was arrested for drug possession and solicitation. It was her fifth offense on various charges, and she was sentenced to prison for eighteen months. She died of a stroke while she was incarcerated.”

Sarah was so stunned she could only stare at him while she processed everything he’d just said. “Did your father raise you?” she asked since it was the most logical assumption.

His mouth twisted in a spiteful smile, even as he took a bite of his dessert. “The thing is, none of us boys knew who our fathers were since my mother got pregnant when she was with three different johns. We had a lot of abusive pricks who came through our lives because of my mother’s addictions, but we never had a father figure.”

So, he’d suffered as a child, just as she had, and it made her feel oddly connected to him. “Did the three of you end up in foster care?” She hated to ask but wanted to know what had happened to them.

He shook his head. “No. If it weren’t for Clay, we would have definitely been split up. Somehow, someway, he was able to keep us together. He was sixteen at the time, and for the two years after that, he managed to keep all of us under the radar of social services while he worked odd jobs to support us. Like I said earlier, I ate a lot of macaroni and cheese and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.”

Sarah couldn’t stop the emotional lump that formed in her throat. On one hand, she could totally relate to Levi’s past and childhood, and on another, she knew that he and his brothers had gone through a whole different kind of hell. “I can’t even imagine how difficult that was for all three of you.”

“Clay obviously took the brunt of it all since he was the oldest. Mason, well, he was a goddamn hell-raiser who was a constant challenge for Clay. And me . . .” He shrugged, as if it didn’t matter.

But what he’d endured did matter to her. And in a very short time, she’d already learned so much about Levi that she was able to finish his sentence for him. “You were the quiet, internal one, weren’t you?”

Surprise flickered in his gaze that she’d pegged him so easily. “When you’re constantly being threatened with ‘be good or you’ll be taken away,’ it tends to scare the shit out of a kid. I was so afraid of never seeing my brothers again, and the only way I could deal with the chaos of everything going on around me was to keep my fears and emotions compartmentalized so they didn’t completely overwhelm me.”

She realized that even as a man, Levi still needed to maintain that control; he’d admitted as much earlier when she’d asked him about drinking alcohol and he’d said, that lack of control is totally not my thing. It all made sense and lined up with his in-charge personality. She was sure that being in the military had only intensified and solidified those traits.

“You mentioned you were in the service?” She figured he could use a break from the intensity of his story and hoped this part of his life had gone easier.

“Yeah. I was in the Army, as a military police officer.” He casually leaned back in his chair, seemingly grateful to leave the childhood discussion behind. “Once I was discharged, it was a natural and easy transition to being a cop.”

“Your choice of profession suits you,” she said with a smile.

He tipped his head, his expression curious. “Yeah? How so?”

“I’ve known you for about five weeks now, almost six, and there is just an air of authority about you, without being overbearing,” she said, thinking back on all the details she’d mentally collected on Levi during all his stops at Circle K and, more recently, when he’d been with his brothers. “You’re honorable and loyal. And you’re protective. You make me feel safe,” she admitted softly. Due more to who he was as a man than him being a cop. And that revelation scared her, because she’d trusted other men in the past only to realize that sense of security had all been an illusion.

Levi’s eyes darkened a shade as he studied her face, and even though he was sitting across the table, she shivered as though he’d intimately touched her. “Maybe I’m just protective of you.”

The warm, sensual murmur of his voice added to the awareness suddenly thrumming through her. “You were just doing your job the other night at the store.”

“Yes, I was,” he agreed. “But that doesn’t explain why I still feel protective of you. Why I want to physically remove you from that shitty job and make sure you’re safe.”

Oh, wow. The heat suddenly glimmering in his gaze made her shift in her chair, as did the tempting smile pulling at his mouth. Somehow, the atmosphere between them had changed, and her feminine senses were completely tuned in to his sex appeal.

She abruptly stood up and grabbed her empty dessert plate and fork. He started to join her, but this time she put her hand out to stop him, just as he’d done to her earlier. “You did the dinner dishes. The least I can do is the dessert plates.” And good God, she needed a few minutes to subdue her disorderly hormones.

She escaped to the kitchen and washed the plates and forks, then set them on the dish rack. Just as she finished and intended to turn around, Levi came up behind her, so quietly that she jumped when he splayed his palms on either side of the sink so she couldn’t escape, and oh-so-slowly pressed his body against the back of hers.

She closed her eyes and swallowed hard, unable to stop the rush of longing that worked its way through her system. She was deliciously trapped—in between his muscular arms and against the lean hips tucked against her ass—though she knew with even the slightest protest from her he’d back away. But he felt so damn good. So strong and warm and real. Resisting him was next to impossible, especially when he skimmed his lips across that bare, sensitive spot where her neck ended and her shoulder began.

Goose bumps rose all along her arms. “Levi, what are you doing?” she managed to utter, even as her head tipped to the left to give him more access to the side of her throat.

“I’m not done with dessert yet,” he murmured against her ear. “And you, sweet Sarah, taste better than chocolate.”