She stood there fuming, looking so damn upset that he couldn’t help but feel a little bad about what he’d done. Not that he regretted ruining her date, because she was his and really, by this point, she should have realized that, but about embarrassing her at work. He reached out to take her hand in his only to have her pull it out of his reach.

“Look, I know you’re pissed. Why don’t you come in here and we’ll talk it over and order some food. Then if you’re still angry, you can kick my ass, okay?” he suggested with a hint of a smile, praying like hell that he could fix this. He wanted to spend the night holding her in his arms, not fighting over petty bullshit.

Marty eyed him for a moment before her scowl disappeared and a sunny smile took over her features, making him understandably nervous. “That sounds great. Let’s go,” she said, seeming pleased as she stepped past him and walked inside.

Well, that was easy. A little too easy. He’d expected to have to beg, apologize, and ultimately chase her down and drag her back. Ignoring every instinct in his body that was shouting for him to run for the hills, he stepped back and closed the door.

The lock clicked just as he was shoved against the door and his arms were swiftly brought behind his back. He heard and felt the handcuffs before it registered in his mind that he was seriously f**ked. Damn, he forgot about Hank teaching her how to take down an unsuspecting criminal when she was five, you know, just in case she happened to come across one on the playground.

*-*-*-*

Tristan turned around to face her, grinning. “Is that all you have for me, baby?”

“That and more,” she promised with a pleased tone that let him know that she truly thought she’d won. She really should have known better than that by now.

He shook his head, sighing. “I’m really disappointed in you, baby.”

“Are you going to continue to call me that?” she asked in a bored tone.

One eyebrow arched up in challenge. “Are you going to take these cuffs off?”

“No.”

“Then yes.”

She watched him as he carefully moved to sit on the floor. “If you’re going to handcuff a man,” he paused to shoot her a look of warning, “and you better not be thinking about handcuffing any other men.”

She rolled her eyes at his assumption that they were together. “Make sure that he isn’t a cop with a shitload of extra handcuff keys lying around the house.”

“Doesn’t matter,” she said with a shrug.

He frowned up at her when his butt hit the floor. Even as he spoke he bent his legs to loop his arms under them to bring his hands in front. Now she couldn’t very well allow that.

“What doesn’t matter?” he asked, the last word leaving his mouth in the same instant that she lowered herself onto his lap, straddling him and effectively trapping his arms behind his back.

She pushed him down, knowing that with his arms behind his back like this that he wouldn’t be able to stop her, or at least, not easily. He landed with a thud. “It doesn’t matter, because I’m not going to give you a chance to retrieve a key until I’m done with you.”

*-*-*-*

Tristan took a moment to consider his predicament while his eyes ran over her spread legs, at the skirt that was hiked up, the hard ni**les that were straining against her blouse up to the face of the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. He felt his lips curve into an appreciative grin. He could think of a hell of a lot worse situations to be in than lying beneath the woman that he loved.

“Do your worst, baby. I’m all yours.”

Marty returned his grin, which made him a tad uneasy, but not enough to roll her off of him and end this game. “Oh, you can count on it.”

“Ah, lad, I know this is generally a good start to a  p**n  and all, but I have a really bad feeling about this,” Shayne said, looking both amused and nervous at the same time.

Tristan rolled his h*ps suggestively beneath her and watched as her eyes glazed over. “The only thing I can count on with you like this is getting hard.”

Nothing on earth could have shocked him more than her grinding down against him as she leaned down until their lips were barely a few centimeters apart. “That’s exactly what I want.”

All thoughts of acting unaffected shot out of his head at that declaration. He leaned up and captured her lips with his own. She eagerly returned the kiss while she continued to grind against him. He swallowed her moans of pleasure as his h*ps rolled up to meet hers. The pain in his shoulder from having his hands cuffed behind his back was forgotten as was the pain from having their combined weights pressing the cuffs into his skin. All that mattered was the woman on top of him.

“I need you, Tristan,” she whispered against his mouth, breaking the last strand of resistance that he’d been holding onto.

“You have me. I’m yours,” he promised, because he was, always had been and he’d been a f**king moron to fight this hold she had over him.

She stopped kissing him and moved back just far enough away so that she could look at him as she asked, “No matter what?”

There was no hesitation whatsoever. “No matter what, Marty. I’m yours, always have been.”

For a moment she looked like she was going to cry and he definitely did not want that. He leaned up and captured her lips again, thrusting his tongue into her mouth. She met him stroke for stroke as her hands roamed through his hair, over his neck, shoulders and chest.

She gently pushed him back down and broke away to trail kisses down his chin. Tristan was as a helpless as a newborn babe beneath her touch. He watched through hooded eyes as she licked and kissed her way down his body.

“Do you like this?”

“Yes,” he groaned as he imagined her hands and mouth on another part of him. That thought was quickly replaced with one that had him grinding his teeth and trying to bite back his temper before he did and said something stupid to wreck this.

As she reached the waistband of his pants he couldn’t stop jealousy from taking over and asked, “Have you done this before?”

*-*-*-*

“This?” she asked, pulling back slightly before she followed the happy trail that disappeared beneath his jeans with her tongue. “No, I haven’t done this with a man before.”

“So…,” he sucked in a breath as she ran a curious hand over the bulge in his pants. “You haven’t,” gasp, “had a man inside of you before.”

She looked up with a thoughtful expression on her face. “Well, only Bob, but I haven’t been with him in a while.” She had been meaning to pick up batteries for her Battery Operated Boyfriend months ago, but had never gotten around to it.

Rage shot through him at the thought of another man touching her. “He doesn’t touch you again.” His eyes locked on hers as he snarled out, “I’ll f**king kill him if he touches you ever again. You’re mine!”

She looked down so that he couldn’t see the pleased expression on her face. Really, she shouldn’t be this happy that a man was acting this way, but she was, probably because it was Tristan and it meant that she wasn’t the only one suffering from this thing between them. This was the man she’d loved her whole life. Then a thought occurred to her that wiped away her smile.