Now, we were in our room, standing next to our king-sized bed, and DeVon was holding up a pair of handcuffs and giving me that wicked grin of his that said I was going to be sore tomorrow. I held out my hands in the universal sign for 'cuff me, Officer. I've been naughty.'
“Strip.” His voice held that authoritative note that had always twisted something inside me.
First went the shoes. Then, I grabbed the hem of my dress and pulled it over my head in one quick gesture, leaving me in just a strapless bra, the same white lace as the panties in his pocket. I gave him a moment to appreciate the view and then tossed the bra on the floor too. With a sly grin, I ran my hands up my sides and cupped my breasts. They weren't overly large, but they weren't small either, just a bit above average. DeVon's eyes narrowed as I caressed my breasts, my fingers making circles around my nipples until they hardened into little bullet points.
“Did I say you could touch yourself?” He took a step towards me and I shivered in anticipation.
When I'd first met DeVon, I'd thought he'd been a control freak, wanting nothing more than to boss women around into pleasuring him. I'd ended up realizing that hadn't been the case. He enjoyed domination and I definitely enjoyed submitting to him, but what made us work was that I wasn't the traditional definition of a Sub. Not in the BDSM world. I liked pushing back...and he liked it when I did. What made us so good for each other was that we understood the other's needs and knew exactly how to fill them.
“No, Sir.” I gave my nipples a light pinch and watched DeVon's eyes darken to almost black.
He reached out and took one of my wrists. Cool metal brushed my skin as he clicked one side of the handcuffs into place. Immediately, I knew that these weren't the flimsy trick ones that magicians used on their assistants. These were the real thing. Only one way out and that was the key DeVon set on the table next to the bed before reaching for my other hand.
He paused for a moment, a thoughtful expression on his face. I didn't say anything, letting him make whatever decision it was he was making. After a moment, he locked my hands in front of me and then took a step back. Slowly, he peeled off the fitted t-shirt he was wearing, revealing a long, lean torso with defined muscles beneath tanned skin. He was tall, with broad shoulders, but not quite as muscular as, say, Gavin. But like my friend's fiancée, DeVon had a strength and power to him that went beyond build. He was physically intimidating, but it was truly his charisma and personality that made people listen to him.
He unbuttoned his jeans and pulled the zipper down, but didn't take them off. He left them open, revealing a thin trail of black curls that run from his belly button down to disappear between the folds of fabric.
I realized, with a jolt of desire, that he wasn't wearing anything under his jeans. I bit my lip. If I'd known that, I would've had my hand down his pants and around his cock back at the club.
He reached into the bag he'd taken the handcuffs out of and what came out next made my mouth go dry.
Continues in Chasing Perfection Vol. 4. Release January 6th. Click here to get an email as soon as it’s released.
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Acknowledgement
First, I would like to thank all of my readers. Without you, my books would not exist. I truly appreciate each and every one of you.
A big “thanks” goes out to all my Facebook fans, street team, beta readers, and advanced reviewers. You are a HUGE part of the success of my series.
I have to thank my PA, Shannon Hunt. Without you my life would be a complete and utter mess. Also a big thank you goes out to my editor Lynette. You make my ideas and writing look so good.
About The Author
M. S. Parker is a USA Today Bestselling author and the author of the Erotic Romance series, Club Privé and Chasing Perfection.
Living in Southern California, she enjoys sitting by the pool with her laptop writing on her next spicy romance.
Growing up all she wanted to be was a dancer, actor or author. So far only the latter has come true but M. S. Parker hasn’t retired her dancing shoes just yet. She is still waiting for the call for her to appear on Dancing With The Stars.
When M. S. isn't writing, she can usually be found reading– oops, scratch that! She is always writing. ☺
M. S. Parker, French Connection Vol. 3
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