He yanked me into him so I felt every hard inch. I was reminded of his size, a foot taller than my five-two. He could overpower me. Dominate me in ways that weren’t kinky or fun.

But he wouldn’t. The guy may have hurt my heart, but I knew he’d never lay a hand on me in anger. In his arms was the one place where I’d felt truly safe.

Now I was back in them, and it was as if the six years slipped away.

With an arm banded around my back, he lifted me, carried me to the bed, and laid me down so my head rested on his pillow. With a hand pressed into the mattress by my shoulder, he loomed over me. With the glow of the bedside lamp, his face was cast in deep shadow. I saw the gleam of need. The happiness.

Lowering his head again, he kissed along my jaw, down my neck, and to the swell of my breast above the lacy edge of my bra.

A whimper slipped from my lips, and I tangled my fingers in his hair. Tugged on the silky strands. I remembered his scent, like coming home.

My eyes slipped closed at the delicious feel of him.

What was I doing? I couldn’t lose myself in his touch!

I had a plan. A mission. But fuck, he felt so good. He remembered exactly what got me hot.

But he also knew exactly what had finished us.

I gripped the sides of his head and pulled him up. With a lift of my hips, I tried to flip us. He was too big to force, but he let me take the lead, rolling him onto his back as I straddled his waist.

His eyes flared with heat, and a slow smile spread across his face.

“Want to be in charge, baby girl?” he asked.

The fact that he asked proved that I really wasn’t in charge at all. But I already was. He just didn’t know it. I arched a brow and gave him a sly smile in return. “I did buy you at the auction.”

His hands settled on my hips, the pads of his thumbs caressing my lower belly.

He was calm, relaxed. Content, even. He wanted me in his bed with him. Was pleased with it. With me.

I swallowed back all the feelings that knowledge brought about.

“Yeah, you did,” he murmured. “You want a wild ride? I’ll give you what you paid for.”

I’d forgotten he was a dirty talker and seemed to only have gotten better at it. While we’d dated for a few months, we’d only been together, had sex, once. One night where he’d touched me in ways I’d never imagined. Never forgot.

But I’d been naive and unsure of what to do. He’d been gentle and careful. Obviously he liked this bolder version of me.

I shook my head—to tell him no and to clear the lust-filled haze—and looked to the chair in the corner of the room. Slung over the back of it was his utility belt. I climbed off him, went and grabbed the handcuffs. As police chief, he also had a service pistol, but it wasn’t in the holster. Since he had a small child living in the house, I had no doubt it was stored in a gun safe along with any other weapons the Mannings had at the ranch.