Dirty Sexy Cuffed (Dirty Sexy Series Book 3)

Still standing in the kitchen, Levi scrubbed a hand along his jaw, watching Sarah as she walked down the hallway that led to the bathroom. Her absence gave him a couple of minutes to process everything that had happened in the past few hours. Not just the kissing and orgasm that had nearly sent him over the edge with the need to feel those rippling contractions around his cock, but their deep, intimate conversations at dinner, the sharing that had given him greater insight into her painfully rough life, and mostly, how his feelings for Sarah Robins were escalating at a shockingly rapid rate.

The thought should have panicked him. He didn’t let women past those barriers protecting his heart, but he’d already run the gamut of emotions with her. He’d gone from flirtatious interest to concerned and caring to wanting to protect her from anything and everything in life that could harm her. With any other woman, he’d be quick to cut ties at the tiniest shift in his feelings, but there was something delicate and vulnerable about Sarah that made him want to pull her closer, not push her away.

Maybe it was the similarities in their pasts, the way they’d both grown up without parents to nurture and guide them. At least he’d had Clay as a role model and someone who’d busted his ass to make sure the three of them weren’t separated by social services, but Sarah . . . To think that she’d lost loving parents to a house fire, then had been abandoned by another family she believed wanted her, broke his heart . . . and made him want to be the one to mend it all at the same time.

He’d known her for nearly six weeks, and what had started as friendly and flirtatious stop-ins at the Circle K had evolved into him wanting more. Sexually, yeah, he wanted to corrupt that innocence and make her his own private dirty girl, which he knew without a doubt she had hidden inside her. She hadn’t flinched or stared at him in horror when he’d laid all his predilections on the table, and she accepted his need for control. In fact, he’d seen the distinct fascination in her gaze, and fuck, tamping down the urge not to drag her off to his bedroom and follow through with every salacious thing he’d suggested to her had been damned near impossible.

But this went beyond simple attraction. She was the first woman to stir something deep inside of him when he honestly thought that part of him was damaged beyond repair. He was undeniably drawn to that sweet innocence he’d spoken of, that sensitive nature of hers that told him she was less jaded about people and their motives than him—despite what she’d been through. While he tended to choose women he deemed safe and easy to walk away from, the mere thought of Sarah walking away from him made his stomach twist with something way too possessive.

When she’d casually mentioned her plan to leave town when he’d picked her up earlier, he’d had to deliberately steel his expression so she couldn’t see the panic flashing through him at the notion of losing her before he’d ever had her. Then he’d gone and pushed her for a second date when he knew she was trying to keep things between them from becoming too entwined.

He exhaled a harsh breath and leaned his hip against the counter, silently berating himself for being a selfish asshole—because if he really had a shred of decency in him, he’d cut Sarah loose instead of pursuing her any further, and not just because she wanted to leave. He’d never been able to give any woman more than sex, so what made him think he had the ability to give Sarah what she needed emotionally?

Even for the short time she remained here, she deserved better than a fucked-up man who carried around too much bitterness from his past. He’d been forced to keep horrible secrets from his brothers that no five-year-old boy should have seen or endured. He’d buried all those repulsive, disturbing memories as deep as he could, but they were always there in the back of his mind, haunting him like a ghost. No matter how hard he tried to forget, the anger and resentment would never be completely gone, and he knew without a doubt his mother’s actions, on more than one occasion, had destroyed his ability to believe in love.

But even knowing he carried around a shit-ton of baggage, Levi still couldn’t bring himself to let Sarah go. And he wasn’t prepared to think about her leaving him until the time came and he was forced to do so.

“I’m ready,” Sarah said as she came back into the kitchen. She took one look at his face, and worry creased her brows. “Is everything okay?”

God, she was already so tuned in to his moods, when he was normally very adept at keeping his emotions under wraps. “I’m good,” he lied, wanting to leave the past where it belonged. He picked up his truck keys and gave her a smile. “Let’s get you home.”

A few minutes later, they were in his vehicle and had just turned out of his neighborhood when he cast a quick glance across the cab at her. “Which direction to your place?”

She fidgeted in her seat and wouldn’t look at him. “Umm, you can just drop me off at the store.”

He wasn’t surprised that Sarah was insisting he leave her at the Circle K where he’d picked her up a couple of hours ago, but the night that he’d gotten shot, as a cop he’d noticed something before heading into the store. There had been no other cars parked anywhere near or around the mart, and with only Sarah working, he remembered wondering where her vehicle was. And then everything had escalated so quickly with the robbery, and that thought had been the last thing on his mind.

But now, he wasn’t about to take her in that direction until she assured him of a few things first. “Do you have a car there?”

She hesitated, and even though he suspected her answer, he pushed for it. “Sarah, answer me.”

She glanced out the passenger window. “No, I don’t have a car, but a friend is going to pick me up.”

The words came out of her in a rush—the same exact excuse she’d given Clay that night at the hospital when he’d offered her a ride home. Had she made even the slightest effort to look him in the eyes, Levi might have believed her about the friend. But he’d been a cop long enough to recognize the signs that she wasn’t being truthful—her delayed responses, the fact that she’d yet to meet his gaze, the unsteady tone of her voice—all instinctively told him that she was hiding something. It wasn’t the first time he’d gotten that impression, and he was betting that whatever secrets she was keeping all tied into her less-than-desirable job that undoubtedly only paid minimum wage, her insistence that she was leaving the city soon, and now, her issue with him driving her directly home.

“I’ll give my friend a call as soon as I’m at the mart, so you don’t have to wait around,” she told him as she clasped and unclasped her hands in her lap in a nervous gesture.

“Don’t,” he said, and while his voice was soft, there was no mistaking the warning in his tone.

Finally, she glanced at him, her body language and the wide-eyed look in her gaze filled with distinct wariness. “Don’t what?”

Fuck. He gripped the steering wheel hard. With his patience hanging by a thin thread, he found a legal parking spot on the street and pulled over to the curb. He put the truck into park and turned his entire body toward her, trying to keep his frustration at a manageable level.

“Don’t lie to me, Sarah. Ever,” he said gruffly, wanting her to trust him with whatever was going on in her life. “Starting right now with the answer to my question. How do you get to work every day and home every night?”

Those full lips he’d ravished not so long ago pursed ever so slightly, and she looked him directly in his eyes. “I take the bus.” She shrugged a shoulder. “It’s not a big deal.”

It was a big fucking deal to him when she was being dropped off at a bus stop in a shitty part of town and still had to walk to the store or wherever the hell she lived.

“I’m taking you home, because I’m not letting you get on a goddamn bus this late at night.” It drove him crazy to think she took public transportation all alone after midnight and anything could happen to her. “Give me your address.”

She shook her head, her expression obstinate. “No. I’ve been on my own a long time and I can take care of myself.”

He knew that was true based on what she’d shared with him earlier, but he couldn’t deny the protective instincts she stirred in him. Being in law enforcement, it was his duty to defend people, but he’d never been one to get involved in a woman’s life who he was dating, or dictate the things she did. Again, Sarah was quickly becoming the exception to every goddamn rule he’d set for himself.

“This isn’t a choice, Sarah,” he said, knowing he was far more stubborn and tenacious than she could ever be, and he wasn’t backing down. “I want to make sure that you get home safely, so this isn’t going to happen any other way. Where do you live?”

She glared at him and crossed her arms over her chest defensively. “You want to know where I live?” She asked the question like a dare. “Fine. Let me show you.”

She gave him an address in Englewood that he calmly punched into his navigation system, even as he was silently thinking in his head, Jesus fucking Christ. Levi knew the general area was a wasteland for all levels of crime, and it was no place for a single, vulnerable woman to live.

As he started driving again, Sarah opted to remain quiet and kept her gaze averted. Yeah, she was pissed at him for being so pushy, but when it came to her well-being, he didn’t give a rat’s ass. Her welfare was his main concern and priority.

He followed the directions on his GPS as the little arrow took them through a low-income, gang-infested area and brought them closer and closer to their destination. A block away from the address, Levi stopped at a red light and glanced through the windshield to see what was up ahead on the right-hand side. A sickening sensation swirled in the pit of his stomach when he caught sight of the two-story Sleepy Time Motel and the brightly lit VACANCY sign. Illuminated below that was the draw for any prostitute, drug addict, and other unsavory activities: Hourly rates available.

No fucking way. He’d busted a few drug dealers and hookers at this run-down location, and Jesus Christ, he wanted to believe there was some kind of mistake with the address, but when the light turned green and he started driving forward, it was Sarah who confirmed his worst fears.

“You can drop me off at the curb in front of the motel,” she said quietly. “I can walk to my room from there.”

He gave her a quick, incredulous glance, trying like hell to remain calm and level-headed when his entire body vibrated with anger—not at Sarah but the situation.

“That’s not a fucking option,” he said, his tone uncompromising as he turned the truck into the driveway of the motel. He wasn’t letting her out of his sight until she was locked in her room, and even then he didn’t know if he could truly drive away and leave her alone. “Where is your room?”

“Around back. Lower level. Room 116,” she said in a reluctant voice so low he could barely hear her.

As he drove through the parking lot, he had to physically swallow back the bile rising in his throat as he thought about someone as defenseless as Sarah living in this dangerous environment every single day. On top of that, this fucking dump of a place was an inescapable reminder of all the times his mother had forced him to witness her own disgusting and despicable lifestyle—turning tricks for cash, which she would then turn around and hand over to the closest drug dealer for a fix instead of feeding the hungry five-year-old boy she’d brought with her. He’d be close by while she did revolting things to strangers, and she’d threatened him to be quiet, to never tell his brothers or else he’d be taken away.

Yeah, great fucking memories there.

He made his way around to the back of the dimly lit motel and pulled his vehicle into a parking spot. He cut the engine and turned toward Sarah, grabbing her wrist just as she tried to unbuckle her seat belt. She glanced at him sharply, and there was just enough illumination in the cab for him to see her flushed face and how angry she was . . . on the outside. But beneath that fuming emotion, he saw the real truth in her eyes that reflected shame and humiliation.

He swore beneath his breath. “What the hell, Sarah? Why are you living here?”

“It’s all I can afford,” she said, her chin lifting willfully. “I’m just trying to get through a few more weeks until I have enough money to leave. And it’s better than living on the streets.”

As much as he admired her strength and fortitude, it killed him inside to know this is what she came home to every night. And for some reason, she obviously didn’t have anyone else she could turn to. Certainly no family to speak of. “Let me help you, Sarah. If you need money or—”

“No.” She cut him off and pulled her hand from his grasp. “I don’t need any handouts or you feeling sorry for me. I’ve been in worse situations than this, and I’ve been absolutely fine staying here.”

She unbuckled her seat belt, and short of cuffing her—which he seriously considered—he knew there was no stopping Sarah from getting out of the vehicle. He quickly reached into the glove box and retrieved his service revolver, which he’d placed in there earlier before picking her up at the store. He never went far without his weapon and normally had it holstered at his side beneath his shirt, but he hadn’t wanted to freak her out if she touched it while he was kissing her—because yeah, he’d known that first kiss in his kitchen was going to happen.

Her eyes widened as she caught sight of the gun, and when her gaze lifted to his, he pinned her with a firm look. “Keep your ass right where it is until I come around and get you,” he said, not missing the annoyance that flashed in her eyes.

Satisfied that she wasn’t going to argue or defy him, even if she didn’t care for his order, he got out of his side of the truck, his gaze automatically scanning his surroundings as he tucked his weapon into the back waistband of his jeans. There was no one in this back area at the moment, but the parking lot and around his vehicle was littered with condom wrappers, used syringes, and drug paraphernalia.

Fucking great.

By the time Levi reached the passenger side and helped her out, he was silently seething—again, because of Sarah’s predicament and her stubborn refusal to accept any help. Keeping a hand on the base of her spine and her stiff, tension-filled body tucked close, he let her lead the way to her room. He stood behind her as she retrieved a keycard and swiped it, then opened the door and stepped inside.

Before he had a chance to follow, a soft, horrified cry escaped her, and she suddenly moved in reverse until her backside collided against the front of his body. He caught her by the upper arms to steady her, but he felt her trembling. One glance over her shoulder into the room, which was illuminated by the dim lamp on the nightstand, and he realized why. The place had been completely ransacked—the mattress had been pulled from the box spring, pillows had been ripped open, and the dresser drawers were open haphazardly and had been rifled through.

Reacting quickly and instinctively, Levi pushed Sarah back against the wall by the door and withdrew his gun. The room was small, without many places for a perp to hide, and it took him less than a minute to check the tiny closet, then do a sweep of the compact bathroom. Someone had removed the lid from the toilet, and he noticed that the window had been busted open. The frame was big enough for someone to climb through, and Levi suspected that it had most likely been a random burglary. That someone had known she was out for the evening and broken in with hopes of finding cash or something of value.

But as he walked back into the bedroom, it was clear that Sarah didn’t have much, let alone something of financial worth. She’d told him that things had been rough for a while, but this . . . this was near destitute. There were only a few clothes hanging in the closet, and the drawers contained bare necessities. Even the food tossed onto the floor was basic and cheap—and reminded him of the kind of groceries Clay had bought for him and Mason to fill their hungry bellies: ramen, oatmeal, off-brand granola bars, and peanut butter. Fuck.

He made his way back to Sarah, and since there was no imminent threat, he returned his weapon to the waistband of his jeans. Her face was pale, she was visibly shaking, and she looked at him with legitimate fear in her tear-filled eyes.

“They . . . they took the . . . TV and microwave,” she stuttered out, clearly in shock.

Levi didn’t give a shit about any of that, and tomorrow he’d deal with reporting the break-in and robbery to the manager of the motel. Right now, his only concern was getting Sarah out of this fucking hellhole once and for all.