Read Online Handcuffed by Her Hero by Angel Payne - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Angel Payne
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equally impressive legs and surfer-god gorgeousness, which would’ve
had her running for whatever was his favorite brand, on any other night.
“There’s not too many size seventeens that walk through that door.”
Surfer god grinned.
He had one slightly crooked canine, which gave him a devil’s air, as well.
“Good call.”
“I know shoes.”
“Ah ha. Then the
guy you’re likely mistaking me for is my squad mate, Zeke Hayes. He’s the only
guy I know in Seattle who also wears a seventeen.”
She smiled back.
“Yeah. That would be him.”
“You’re in luck,
then. Saw him out in the lot. He’s parking his truck. He should be in here in
just—”
“Thank you.” She
felt awful for not letting him finish but hoped the fast peck on his cheek made
up for it. After a hasty dodge through the crowd, she made it to the cushion in
time. The velvet square caressed her ass and thighs as she arranged herself,
making sure the dress and her hair were still exactly what Zeke had specified.
She got in half
a calming breath before a second set of boots thumped into the club.
It was both
heaven and hell to wait here. In this location, she could keep her head lowered
but still steal peeks from the moment Max opened the red velvet curtains to let
him through. When that happened …
Holy. Crap.
Screw the downcast
eyes. She couldn’t stop staring. The backdrop of those drapes was achingly
perfect for him tonight. He was regal. Beautiful. A black leather vest embraced
his broad torso, covering a pristine white button-down opened into a deep V
where his burnished skin practically glowed in contrast. The shirt’s collar
caught the ends of his hair, which hadn’t been re-cut to Army regs yet. Black
leather pants covered his legs, leaving no hard, huge inch of his thighs, glutes,
and calves to anyone’s imagination. That included the beautiful, long muscle
that dominated their apex.
Before she could
stop herself, she openly licked her lips. By every saint Da Vinci ever put to
canvas, God had hung that man with a beautiful cock.
Like Hampton
Court gone kinky, the crowd parted for Z like he was a young King Henry returned
from Cambrai. In truth, Z had probably been someplace worse, so the adulation
fit. Few in the club knew exactly what Zeke did for the Army, but it didn’t
take a genius to piece things together when he disappeared for months without
warning and no estimated return time. He was one of the elite, going out to
battle the worst of the bad guys, which meant everyone celebrated his returns.
But the cornerstones of his job, stealth and concealment, also meant he forced
every inch of the smile he gave in return to everyone now.
He didn’t look
any more comfortable as he approached her. Working to regulate her breathing—ha,
fucking ha—Luna pulled up her spine, dipped her head, and folded her hands atop
her thighs. She checked the angle of her legs again. One was tucked against her
backside, the other curled gracefully next to it. She was as “in place” as
she’d ever be.
Even without
Zeke’s air-altering presence, she would’ve detected him drawing near. Though
all conversations didn’t stop, it felt like they got tucked beneath a heavy
blanket. She expected the sounds that stood out in the resulting hush. Stunned
gasps. A few curious whispers. And of course, the snarky giggles. Master
Zeke was playing with her tonight? Like the good courtiers they
were, everyone buzzed with their bets about the outcome.
Go ahead, you
petty shits. We’ll see who’s satisfying him long after you’ve gone home to your
dream lovers and vibrators.
There was no
more time to indulge the musings. The scuffed toes and heavy buckles of Zeke’s
boots appeared in her view. The scent of him, musk and rain and man, filled every
corner of her senses. So much for feeling composed.
“You got the
memo.” He said it in a murmur only she could hear. The intimacy was a pin on
all the water balloons.
“Yes, Sir.” She
kept her
had her running for whatever was his favorite brand, on any other night.
“There’s not too many size seventeens that walk through that door.”
Surfer god grinned.
He had one slightly crooked canine, which gave him a devil’s air, as well.
“Good call.”
“I know shoes.”
“Ah ha. Then the
guy you’re likely mistaking me for is my squad mate, Zeke Hayes. He’s the only
guy I know in Seattle who also wears a seventeen.”
She smiled back.
“Yeah. That would be him.”
“You’re in luck,
then. Saw him out in the lot. He’s parking his truck. He should be in here in
just—”
“Thank you.” She
felt awful for not letting him finish but hoped the fast peck on his cheek made
up for it. After a hasty dodge through the crowd, she made it to the cushion in
time. The velvet square caressed her ass and thighs as she arranged herself,
making sure the dress and her hair were still exactly what Zeke had specified.
She got in half
a calming breath before a second set of boots thumped into the club.
It was both
heaven and hell to wait here. In this location, she could keep her head lowered
but still steal peeks from the moment Max opened the red velvet curtains to let
him through. When that happened …
Holy. Crap.
Screw the downcast
eyes. She couldn’t stop staring. The backdrop of those drapes was achingly
perfect for him tonight. He was regal. Beautiful. A black leather vest embraced
his broad torso, covering a pristine white button-down opened into a deep V
where his burnished skin practically glowed in contrast. The shirt’s collar
caught the ends of his hair, which hadn’t been re-cut to Army regs yet. Black
leather pants covered his legs, leaving no hard, huge inch of his thighs, glutes,
and calves to anyone’s imagination. That included the beautiful, long muscle
that dominated their apex.
Before she could
stop herself, she openly licked her lips. By every saint Da Vinci ever put to
canvas, God had hung that man with a beautiful cock.
Like Hampton
Court gone kinky, the crowd parted for Z like he was a young King Henry returned
from Cambrai. In truth, Z had probably been someplace worse, so the adulation
fit. Few in the club knew exactly what Zeke did for the Army, but it didn’t
take a genius to piece things together when he disappeared for months without
warning and no estimated return time. He was one of the elite, going out to
battle the worst of the bad guys, which meant everyone celebrated his returns.
But the cornerstones of his job, stealth and concealment, also meant he forced
every inch of the smile he gave in return to everyone now.
He didn’t look
any more comfortable as he approached her. Working to regulate her breathing—ha,
fucking ha—Luna pulled up her spine, dipped her head, and folded her hands atop
her thighs. She checked the angle of her legs again. One was tucked against her
backside, the other curled gracefully next to it. She was as “in place” as
she’d ever be.
Even without
Zeke’s air-altering presence, she would’ve detected him drawing near. Though
all conversations didn’t stop, it felt like they got tucked beneath a heavy
blanket. She expected the sounds that stood out in the resulting hush. Stunned
gasps. A few curious whispers. And of course, the snarky giggles. Master
Zeke was playing with her tonight? Like the good courtiers they
were, everyone buzzed with their bets about the outcome.
Go ahead, you
petty shits. We’ll see who’s satisfying him long after you’ve gone home to your
dream lovers and vibrators.
There was no
more time to indulge the musings. The scuffed toes and heavy buckles of Zeke’s
boots appeared in her view. The scent of him, musk and rain and man, filled every
corner of her senses. So much for feeling composed.
“You got the
memo.” He said it in a murmur only she could hear. The intimacy was a pin on
all the water balloons.
“Yes, Sir.” She
kept her
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