Erotic Book - HEARTS AND HANDCUFFS( Sunset Point by Erika Reed)

Contains all kind of sex novels in Hindi and English.
User avatar
Platinum Member
Posts: 4069
Joined: 30 Jul 2015 14:09

Re: Erotic Book - HEARTS AND HANDCUFFS( Sunset Point by Erika Reed)

Unread post by sexy » 11 May 2016 17:30

Point Of seduction

Chapter 1

“Are you sure this is a good idea, Austin?”

Austin Curtis looked up from where he was unpacking a box of dishes in the kitchen. Scattered around him on every surface was the evidence of his and his brother’s recent move from Apache Crossing, Texas, to the island paradise of Sunset Point. His younger brother, Michael, held yet another box of miscellaneous kitchenware in his arms as he stood waiting for Austin’s response.

Austin sighed heavily and lifted the stack of plates up into the cabinet in front of him. “No, but are you sure that it’s not?”

Michael’s blue eyes narrowed, and a frown line appeared between his eyebrows. “Don’t get bitchy. I’m just second-guessing all of this. I mean, it just seems too good to be true. People like us don’t get job offers out of the blue or get the opportunity to move to paradise with no questions asked.”

“People like us? Oh, you mean veterans with no stable income? Or rednecks with no future? What people like us are you talking about, Mike?” Austin knew he sounded like a prick, but he couldn’t keep the words from spilling out of his mouth.

Michael had been acting like a petulant child ever since Jackson Stone called them and offered them a job. Jackson Stone, aka Lieutenant Stone from their Army days, had talked them into taking a job with the Sunset Point Police Department on the idyllic island of Sunset Point, just off the coast of Florida.

The island held an unusual community that embraced alternative lifestyles, allowing everyone to live the lives they chose to as long as it harmed no one else. For Michael and Austin, it was ideal finding a new home that was so similar in mindset to their birthplace. Apache Crossing was a mecca for the alternative, and ménage groupings were popping up all over the place for their friends and neighbors.

It sounded like Sunset Point would be the perfect place to start anew for the brothers. The island had been used for a century by the wealthy to get away from the politics of high society on the mainland, and it maintained a very tight-knit and exclusive population.

The fact that Jackson was a lieutenant on the police department, second only to the chief, meant that he was able to offer his Army buddies jobs. Once they had jobs, they were automatically granted residency on the island, but from what Jackson had described, everyone else who wasn’t already a resident of the island had to go through an application process. There was even a council and a registry for all residents. Austin was just relieved that they hadn’t had to go through all of that, too. Moving from Texas to Sunset Point was a big enough undertaking without any added hang-ups.

Apache Crossing hadn’t been the same comfortable place for him since his parents died when he was eighteen. Sure, it was where he was born, and he still had plenty of friends there, but everywhere he went there were reminders of that awful night, and the life they had missed out on.

That was why he and Michael joined the Army in the first place, to escape the misery that seemed to surround them like a cloud when they were at home. He detested the pity and sympathetic expressions that graced the faces around them. It was a daily grind of doom and gloom, and then reassurances that their lives would get better. How exactly did the lives of two teenagers get better after they lost everyone they loved? Austin couldn’t stand another “How are you?” or “How have you been?” and just like the Army, Sunset Point had allowed him to escape.

“Stop it, Austin. Mike’s just freaking out because today is our first day on the job. He’ll calm down once they give him a gun.” Kendrick stepped into the kitchen and flung open the fridge. Taking a large gulp out of a can of grape soda, he turned back to survey the disaster in the kitchen. “Hey, I thought you were going to unpack the kitchen?”

“What the hell do you think I’m doing?” Austin’s frustration was peaking, and he was considering throwing the first punch to start a fight just so he could burn off some energy.

“Looks to me like you’re standing there daydreaming. Is the island spirit already getting to you, man? Those dishes won’t unpack themselves. I’m already done in the bathrooms,” Kendrick said with a laugh.

Kendrick McClure was like Austin’s second brother. They were so close that they even called each other brother when introduced to others. Austin and Michael hadn’t met Kendrick until they got to boot camp, but the three men had been inseparable since. Their Army buddies had jokingly called them the Three Stooges. Where one went, you would usually find the other two following. Austin was the oldest of the trio at thirty-six, but Kendrick was only about eight months younger at thirty-five. Michael was the baby at thirty-four. Kendrick’s light brown skin tone left no doubt to his African-American heritage, so there was no mistaking them for blood brothers, but they considered themselves family nonetheless.

“Are you kidding?” Austin rolled his eyes at Kendrick and dumped all of the silverware into a drawer. He grimaced at the metal clang when he shut the drawer and made a mental note to look for one of those drawer separator thingies before he met Kendrick’s laughing gaze. “Unpacking a half-dozen towels, a bar of soap, and a bottle of shampoo isn’t exactly manual labor.”

“Hey, I had to unpack toothbrushes and toothpaste, and all that hair junk you use, too,” Kendrick said. “You have more hair care products than the beauty salon in town.”

Austin flipped him off, but Michael cut them off before they could start slinging more insults. “What time are we supposed to be there this afternoon?”

“Two. Shift change is at three, so LT said that’s when there would be the most guys for us to meet all at once. It will be good to see him and Garrison again.”

“Shit, I forgot Bannock was from here, too. Yeah, maybe it will finally feel normal to be working with those guys again.” That was the rub of being a soldier stationed overseas. A man built a camaraderie with his fellow soldiers, and once he arrived back stateside, nothing that was normal felt normal anymore. Austin never thought he would miss PT in the morning, or the noise that came with ten guys in one hot-ass tent, but he did. Hopefully he would adjust better here in a new environment. Living back in Apache Crossing had been like pulling on a pair of itchy wool socks that sat in the back of his dresser drawer. He didn’t wear them because they itched, but he couldn’t throw them out because they were familiar.

Kendrick stood staring out the glass sliding doors. “You know, we’re supposed to wear sweats. LT’s going to put us through our paces to make sure we’re still in shape.”

“In other words, he’s going to test your defense skills before he tells everyone you’re the new trainer. Any excuse to whip his ass is a good excuse for me. I could use some exercise,” Austin said with a wicked grin to Michael.

Kendrick’s responding laugh confirmed his assumption. “I’m itching to get on the mats. It’s been too long since I got to knock anyone’s teeth loose.”

“Well just so long as it ain’t mine this time. Shit. I guess we’re going to have to find a new dentist down here, too. God, I hate change.” Michael groaned as he left the room carrying a box that said books.

“What’s his deal?” Austin said to no one in particular, even though he knew that Kendrick wouldn’t be able to resist answering.

“You know he worries about everything. This is a big change, but he’ll adjust. We all will. I mean look out the window, man. It’s beach and ocean as far as the eye can see. We’re in paradise! Missouri never looked like this, I can tell you that, and we are starting new jobs that pay twice what we would have made in Texas working for Paxton. How can this go bad?” Kendrick continued staring out the window at the beach longingly.

He was right, but Austin hated to admit it. The condo they were renting backed up to the golden sand, and Austin would have a sunrise view every morning when he woke up because his bedroom faced the east. They were in the perfect paradise and getting ready to create new lives for themselves. Instead of struggling to find construction work in Texas, they were going to be rolling in the dough and working on their tans on the edge of the Gulf of Mexico.

Watching his friend, he gave a mental sigh. Kendrick deserved this just as much as Austin and Michael. It wasn’t so long ago that they were sharing a tent in Afghanistan. Austin would never forget the day that Jackson came around to tell Kendrick that his mother had suffered a fatal heart attack back in St. Louis. There was no chance to say good-bye or tie up loose strings. It all happened too suddenly. Kendrick had to fly home alone to take care of his mother’s body and belongings, and then too quickly he was whisked back to the never-ending sands of the desert. Grief hadn’t left the man’s eyes until they stepped onto the ferry and made their way across the ocean waters to Sunset Point. Kendrick needed this place and so did Michael. Austin would do everything in his power to make it work for all three of them.

“Do you think there are any beach bunnies down there this early in the morning?” he asked as he tossed another empty box into the growing pile in the hallway.

A smile spread across Kendrick’s face. “What would it hurt to go look? We haven’t been for a run yet today anyway.”

“I’ll get changed. You get Mike,” Austin said as he took the stairs two at a time, headed for his new bedroom.

The condo was a small two story, with the top floor consisting of one large master bedroom and bathroom. The other two bedrooms were smaller and on the ground floor, and they shared a Jack and Jill bathroom. Otherwise, there was the kitchen with its tiny dining space off to the side that looked out the back of the house onto the beach, and the living room that ran along the front of the house. The place came furnished already, which worked out well, because shipping furniture from Texas to an island wouldn’t have been cheap, and none of the three of them had any interior design skills at all. The neutral shades of greens and beiges suited them for the moment.

They had shipped all of their other possessions, so when they first arrived yesterday it was to a massive stack of boxes in the living room that needed unpacking. Once they were able to sort the boxes into the rooms that they belonged in, the task didn’t seem quite so daunting, at least until Austin reached the kitchen and all those unused dishes they owned. He would have been happy with using paper plates and plastic forks, but he also couldn’t bring himself to part with his mother’s white china plates with pale yellow daisies painted on the edges.

After throwing on a pair of sweats and dropping the clothes he removed onto the bed, he headed back down the stairs shirtless and began searching for his tennis shoes.

“Come on man, let’s go.” Kendrick hurried him as Austin managed to locate the missing shoes under the sofa and shove his feet into them.

“I’m coming, damn. What’s got you in a hurry all of a sudden?” Austin asked, following Michael out the back door onto their small patio.

Kendrick just pointed down the beach, and Austin felt his own smile widen as he caught sight of a trio of pretty young women about a hundred yards away setting up their beach towels for some morning sun. With a wink at Kendrick and Michael, he set off jogging down the beach determined to meet some of the locals and settle in to his new home.

You do not have the required permissions to view the files attached to this post.

User avatar
Platinum Member
Posts: 4069
Joined: 30 Jul 2015 14:09

Re: Erotic Book - HEARTS AND HANDCUFFS( Sunset Point by Erika Reed)

Unread post by sexy » 11 May 2016 17:31

Cross Point

Chapter One

“I need a favor.”

Katrina “Trinity” Cross heaved out a sigh at her friend’s words as she answered her phone. Staring out at the dreary sight of the Chicago street outside of her apartment window, she wished for sun and warmth. Instead, winter seemed unwilling to completely release its hold on the city and blanketed it with a cold, icy rain. And this phone call did nothing to improve her mood.

Why oh why had she answered it?

Even from miles away in Las Vegas, T-rex could make Trinity very leery. “You know, every time I hear those words from you someone ends up trying to kill me.”

Her friend and fellow IAD agent Tara “T-rex” Toshi had the nerve to laugh at that. “Oh yeah, good times. This is slightly different though. It’s a totally innocuous situation I need you to look into. No one will try to kill you…at least I don’t think they will.”

“Gee, how positively encouraging,” Trinity said dryly.

Both women worked for IAD, a specialized intelligence agency and counterterrorist taskforce that very few people even knew existed. The International Alliance of Defense was an extremely covert branch in the intelligence community, more like a transnational agency. They were the ultimate warriors of global warfare with agents stationed all over the world. The members of NATO had formed IAD with a policy of “get it done, no matter the cost.” IAD handled their own problems and discourses internally, and that was just the way they liked it. They were the elite, and only the best were chosen to serve.

For the highly skilled select members of IAD it was a dream come true, since most of the agents had been disillusioned with the rules, regulations, and red tape of the regular intelligence branches. Only the highest, most qualified candidates were chosen for IAD, given a kind of worldwide immunity for their actions. Government agencies around the world looked at the members of IAD with awe, not to mention a great amount of envy. Not that it didn’t piss off other agencies when they had to defer to IAD agents if the situation called for it.

Well, former agent in Trinity’s case.

Born Katrina Briars, Trinity was an interesting mix of contradictions. At thirty-one years old, she had been through a lot in her life. She considered herself a tomboy at heart, but with her long, light-brown hair, intense hazel eyes highlighted with long, thick lashes, full pouty lips, and a perfect body, she looked more like a sex bomb. Still, she would rather play with her guns than go shopping. An adrenaline junkie to the core, Trinity had found her calling in covert work.

Growing up in Chicago, she had never known her father and had been forced to deal with her raging alcoholic mother until she was thrown in jail when Trinity was five. Lost in the foster care system, Trinity had fallen into the wrong crowd until her life had changed at thirteen when she had tried to steal a car belonging to Homeland Security agent Ben Cross. Ben and his wife Veronica had taken one look at the bruised and battered young girl and had welcomed her into their home.

From that day on, her life had changed.

Following in her father’s footsteps, Trinity joined Homeland Security after graduating from college early, becoming one of their youngest agents. Specializing in cyber crimes, she also qualified for sharpshooter status, making her a viable asset to any operation. The problem was that Trinity had never really grown out of her rebellious nature or her disregard of authority, especially when she knew she was right. Although she had numerous accolades, she also held one of the highest number of reprimands in the agency. Equally proud of both, when the chance to work for IAD came along, she jumped.

And Trinity had never regretted her decision.

Even after the last clusterfuck she’d been through, she had loved every second of her time with IAD. Trinity had just come off a pretty nasty mission that left her battle-scarred and, in her opinion, slightly mind-fucked, which was not conducive to being a field agent. Taking herself out of the game was killing her, but she would never put her fellow agents and friends at risk. Until she got her mind right, she was benching herself.

Although, that was turning out to be a problem since no one was listening to her.

Trinity silently cursed herself as her interest was piqued, just like Tara knew it would. Damn her. “Why don’t I believe you, T-rex? You know, I haven’t even been retired for a full twenty-four hours yet and you’re already trying to drag me back in.”

Tara laughed so loud Trinity had to hold the phone away from her ear. “Bullshit, Trinity. You know you can never really retire from IAD, unless you retire from living. It’s like Hotel California…you never stop being an agent until you’re six feet under.”

Damn her again, Tara was right.

“Anyways, you’ve been doing nothing but sitting on your fabulous ass for almost a month now,” Tara said. “I thought you could use something to do.”

Trinity hadn’t been sitting around for shits and giggles. She’d been on medical leave recovering from a grueling mission. She had gone undercover in Mexico to help take down a particularly nasty ring of Coyotes, traffickers who took money to help people sneak across the border into the US. Only this particular group had a tendency to use those who came to them as drug mules or they ended up extorting more money from them to gain their freedom once they were on American soil. For the pretty young men and women, the outcome was even worse. They were taken across the border where they were forced into sexual slavery or sold to the highest bidder.

Trinity had positioned herself in with a group asking to be taken across the border, as they’d needed to know who the buyer and contact was on the US side. She had been tagged with a tracking device that affixed to her skin and was untraceable to most sensors. The mission had seemed simple enough. She just hadn’t planned on four of the assholes running the smuggling ring to join her in the back of the truck, wanting a taste of her and the other young woman in the group on the trip over.

With her hands tied and nothing but her bare fists, Trinity had stopped the men, earning a couple stab wounds to the side for her trouble. She had also been beaten to shit by the time the truck had arrived at the drop point, but what had done the most damage to her psyche had been being locked in the back of the truck with four dead bodies in the heat and the dark.

The doctor monitoring her recovery had been able to help heal her physical wounds with the aid of an experimental drug, but her mind was a whole different story. Her brain was a minefield that she was told would take time to heal.

Personally, she thought she was fucked.

What the hell kind of agent could she be if she freaked out in the dark?

Unwilling to put her friends at risk, she’d retired herself from the agency, only to find that it really was impossible to leave completely. She sighed again and knew, without a doubt, that this was going to be a mistake.

“What do you need me to do?”

Trinity could practically see her friend’s grin through the phone as Tara responded. “Julian’s family is working on an expansion project on an island off the coast of Florida. Seriously, I’d never even heard of the place before he told me about it. They’re building onto the Palace Resort and Spa there, but things have gone FUBAR and no one can figure out what’s going on. We were going to fly down, but I got called in to help the guys from the LA office and can’t now.”

Damn it. Julian King was Tara’s fiancé and Trinity really liked him. He’d basically become a part of the IAD family and everyone knew that Trinity would do anything for family. “Give me the basics.”

Knowing she had Trinity hooked, Tara explained. “The resort is located on an island that caters toward the wealthy. It’s one of their most lucrative properties in the US, and they recently bought the land next to the hotel in order to expand. The problem is, nothing seems to be going according to the plans. There have been delays and other problems, especially with the finances of this project.”

“Can’t Julian have one of his minions go down there and bash some heads together?”

“That’s what you’re for, sweetie.”


“Listen, this project has been headed up by Julian’s brother, Maxwell, but he’s been busy handling another issue at their hotel in Monaco and their mother and sister are handling some big convention in New York. Come on, Trinity. It’s a resort…on an island. Are you really telling me you don’t want to take a vacation at one of the most exclusive resorts for free?”

The fantasy of white sandy beaches with crystal-clear-blue water swayed Trinity as she looked out at the pouring rain again. Even though Trinity had naturally golden skin, she was in serious need of a tan. “Fine. I’ll go, but you’ll owe me.”

“I totally will. We’ll even set you up in the owner’s suite for your stay. Julian tells me it’s huge and there’s even a private pool on the balcony.”

“I never understood that. Why do you need a private pool when you’re practically on the beach?” Trinity mused.

“Ah, maybe so you can swim naked?”

“But I’d do that on the beach.”

Tara laughed. “That’s why I love you. You’re a wild one, Trinity. Go check this out for us and you can stay down there as long as you’d like and become a mermaid.”

That made Trinity’s lips curve in a grin. “See if I don’t. I’m officially retired. Fine, I’ll do it but you’ll be paying for all my shit, room service and everything. And I just might get a massage every day. I think I deserve a little fun in the sun.”

“Exactly! I haven’t been down there myself, but I’ve seen pictures of the island. It’s absolutely beautiful. Trust me when I say I think you’ll totally love Sunset Point. You’ll be able to reach me on my cell or you can contact Julian directly when you know what’s going on. Go enjoy yourself. And if you end up swimming naked in the ocean, you’ll have to tell me all about it. Especially if there’s a hot guy involved.”

“Perv. You’re engaged now. Doesn’t that mean you can’t think of other men now?”

“First of all, hello pot said kettle. And no. I might be engaged, but I’m not dead.”

Trinity was still laughing as she ended the call. Her mood lifted as she thought about her upcoming trip. Yeah, she could really use a vacation to a sunny, beautiful island where the only thing she had to worry about was what type of drink to order next. And where no one tried to kill her.

It would be a change of pace, but hey, she was retired now.

* * * *


Clearly someone hadn’t gotten the message about Trinity’s dream vacation where no one was supposed to try and kill her.

Until now, Trinity had been having a damn good day.

Arriving on Sunset Point Island earlier that day, courtesy of the private plane Julian had booked for her, had set her off to a great start. She had flown out of the dark-gray skies of Chicago into the bright blue of Sunset Point Island off of the Florida coast. As soon as the plane lifted off, so did her mood. The weight she’d been carrying from the last few missions had been left behind as she actually began to look forward to her vacation.

On the plane ride over, she’d treated herself to a couple of mimosas while she scanned the data Tara had sent her about the renovations. Right away it was clear there was something hinky going on with the financials. She wasn’t an expert on construction by any means, but the cost projections of the renovation seemed to be extremely off. It didn’t take a genius to see that they were over budget and way off the estimated timeline.

When she landed on the island there was a sleek town car waiting for her. The driver had loaded her enormous suitcase into the trunk but had given her a weird look when she refused to part with her duffle bag. No one touched her go-bag but her. It contained everything she’d need to survive on her own for weeks. Hell, she could even wage a small war with the contents in her bag.

To the driver’s consternation, instead of getting in the backseat, Trinity had climbed into the passenger seat with him in front. At first he had been guarded, but Trinity’s natural charisma and innate charm had him loosening up in no time. The driver turned out to be quite nice and had given her a little background about the island and its locals on the ride to the hotel. He nearly shocked the shit out of her when he told her the island catered to alternate partnerships and ménage relationships, but Trinity recovered quickly, intrigued by the setup. She’d grinned at the thought of the naughty fun she was going to have and silently thanked her friend for coercing her to come on the trip.

The Palace Resort and Spa was a truly extraordinary sight. They had driven up to the resort on a deserted road lined with the rain forest on either side until the striking structure came into view. Rising over the treetops with the sea at its back, the resort reminded Trinity of Aladdin’s palace with a contemporary twist. There were several towers that held the VIP suites, and even though it was one of the smaller hotels in the Palace chain, the main building hosted an impressive number of rooms.

At the hotel she’d been able to bypass the tedium of checking in, being immediately led up to the owner’s suite on the top floor by a manager that had been waiting for her arrival. She absently wished that Julian hadn’t informed everyone she was coming, but it did make things go more smoothly.

The owner’s suite was magnificent.

Unique in its design, there was only one VIP suite per floor in the tower and each had a 360 degree view of the island. More like a self-sufficient condo than a hotel room, there was a large, open living room with a full kitchen and two bedrooms on opposite sides of the suite in a split arrangement. It was almost shameful that she would be the only one staying there since it was so big, but she wasn’t complaining.

With its lavish furnishings, quiet elegance, and wide windows that overlooked the sea and the bay to the north, it wouldn’t be difficult to spend a few weeks enjoying herself here. Although she loved it all, her favorite part of the suite was its large balcony with a patio table and its very own lap pool. She could just imagine sitting on the deck having a big-ass glass of wine as she watched the sunset over the water.

Wanting to get the work part of her vacation started so she could get it over and done with, Trinity unpacked quickly then left the resort, heading over to take a closer look at the construction site next door. She’d been pleasantly surprised when the valet handed over a set of car keys to a sleek little silver convertible when she came back down to the main entrance. Sending warm thoughts to her friends when she was told that Julian had arranged for the rental to be at her disposal for the duration of her stay, she got in and headed the short distance to the construction site.

The Palace Resort and Spa sat on a large plot of land, which was cleverly used to host a variety of activities, including two pools, tennis courts, and a beautiful golf course located south of the building. The new expansion plans included building a sister site on the plot of land just north of the existing location, nestled into the bay on the western side of the island.

Surprisingly, the lot was almost empty of workers, giving Trinity the time and space needed to look around. She’d parked and got out, glad she had thought to change into hiking boots to go with her jeans and simple white shirt before she’d left her room. From a brief glance at the progress, she had instantly known that the project was way off the mark. What should have been a solid foundation of the building’s structure was no more than a skeleton of concrete and wood. With a shake of her head she had worked her way carefully around the structure, wanting to get a better view of the entire site.

A man had called out to her, startling her enough to reach for the grip of the Sig Sauer hidden in the waistband of her jeans. She’d paused when she saw the security logo on his shirt and greeted him with a smile instead of a face full of Glock.

“Hi,” she’d greeted him.

The security guard frowned at her. “Ma’am. You’re trespassing. You need to leave.”

“Actually, I’m a friend of Julian King’s, one of the owners of this place. He said I could come by and check out the new project since I’m visiting the island.” Trinity had lied, not wanting anyone to know exactly what she was doing there just yet. She’d shot him what she hoped was a look of innocent concern. “It doesn’t look like much yet, though. I thought it would be further along by now.”

Trinity had noted the security guard fidgeted at that.

“There’ve been some slight delays. I’m sorry, but I’m still going to have to ask you to leave. It isn’t safe for you to go walking around here. I wouldn’t want you to get hurt.”

“No problem, Billy,” Trinity had said, flashing him another smile as she peeked at the badge attached to his pocket. She’d gotten back in her car with a friendly wave, planning to go back and see things closer after she got a better look at the records.

Hunger pains distracted her. Deciding to take the scenic route into town, she’d headed north up the western coast, knowing from her study of the island that the road would branch and take her straight into town before she hit the private villas on this side of the island.

It wasn’t more than ten minutes into her drive that she’d noticed a black jeep coming up behind her on the empty road. Fast. Too Fast. Instincts kicked in gear as she noted the mud-splattered window that obscured her view of the driver and also hid the license plate of the approaching vehicle. On the chance that she was just being paranoid she slowed her car, allowing him to pass her, and in doing so saved her life.

As she slowed, the jeep surged forward, slamming into the back of her car. Cursing at the hard jolt, Trinity used every bit of skill and experience she’d learned to keep control of the car. She pulsed her foot on the brake instead of slamming down on it, swerving slightly to slow down further. The jeep rammed her again, this time throwing her into a spin.

“Son of a bitch!”

Someone really was trying to fucking kill her!

Trinity jerked hard on the wheel, trying to counter the move. Her heart nearly stopped for a moment as the car slammed into the guardrail, the only thing protecting her from going over the cliff. Moving fast, she jumped out of the car and pulled her Sig, training it on the jeep as it quickly turned around and sped down the road. She didn’t hesitate and fired repeatedly at the rapidly departing vehicle.

Cursing again, the loud pounding of her heartbeat was joined by the low throb of a motorcycle engine coming from the same direction the jeep had fled. On guard, she turned and pointed her gun at the individual on the bike as he pulled over and parked a few feet away. Her breath hissed out for a very different reason as she got her first good look at the newcomer’s face.

Around six three and built like a golden god, the man was wickedly good looking. Built like a prized fighter, he was packing some serious muscle and had a fierce aura about him that all but screamed cop! He had an almost shaved head that only showed a hint of dark hair that matched the five o’clock shadow covering his chiseled jaw. Intense green eyes seared into hers as the man pulled his own weapon, approaching her slowly.

“SPPD, put your weapon down.”

Damn, she was good. She’d called it right. Trinity cocked her head to the side, intrigued by the easy command in his deep voice. Never one to pass up an opportunity to poke at authority, she couldn’t help it. “Badge me.”

He froze. “What?”

Trinity grinned. “Badge me, baby, ’cause I ain’t putting this down ’til I see your brass.”

You do not have the required permissions to view the files attached to this post.

User avatar
Platinum Member
Posts: 4069
Joined: 30 Jul 2015 14:09

Re: Erotic Book - HEARTS AND HANDCUFFS( Sunset Point by Erika Reed)

Unread post by sexy » 11 May 2016 17:33

Tattoos and Cupcakes[attachment=0]4ha-sp-tattoos.png[/attachment]

Chapter 1

Lane hated this, hated that everything had gone to hell. If she would have known sooner, things may be different now. If she had any idea, she would have stopped it, or would have tried. If only. She pushed her unruly hair out of her face. Her hands trembled as she recalled the scene. How did she miss blatant evidence that must have been in front of her face the whole time? How could she have not seen the terror behind their smiles, and the fear concealed by their sensual glances and movements?

She couldn’t stop crying. Dead. Ingrid had been dead when she found her, laid out across the floor with her long blonde hair haphazardly strewn over the hardwood floor. Smart, she thought, the hardwood that is. Carpet would have been a nightmare to clean up. She wondered if he had killed before. Is that why he chose hardwood over carpet? Goddamn it! Why didn’t she see the monster under his handsome face? Had she been so caught up in her own world she ignored any and all clues of his true nature? I’ve had sex with a monster, a killer! He had touched her body in the most intimate of ways. She had given herself freely to him. She wanted to shower in extremely hot water with the toughest soap on the planet. A gag involuntarily rippled over her tongue. The desire to brush her teeth became an immediate urge.

At the sink, Lane brushed three times. Her queasy stomach threatened to blow any minute. The problem was she’d done that already, three times during her run from the club to the police station. There was so much blood, so much damn blood. The last thing she noticed before she ran was Ingrid’s expressionless face, eyes wide open, staring up at the ceiling. Those beautiful blue eyes of hers were like ice, shimmering with intensity. Her tall and fit body demanded attention from all those that passed by her in the club. Even women stopped to stare, unable to understand how any woman could be as striking or beautiful.

When Ingrid had danced in the club, her long, blonde hair draped over her shoulders, cascading down her back in large ringlets, and framed her slender face. Plump lips made her red lipstick envious and grateful to be smeared over such perfectness.

Now, she was gone. All her dreams were dead and gone like her cold body that was probably at the morgue by now. The mortician may die of shock when he unzips her, Lane thought, sure he’d think he was staring into the face of an angel. Then he’d weep for her and hate the monster that took her from this earth.

Lane knew she needed to get it together, stop crying, and pretend to be strong. For crying out loud, she didn’t even know Ingrid. She had just seen her at the club working, dancing, and using her perfect body to captivate the men who entered.

For the last three months, Lane Erikson had been to the club quite a bit to see her boyfriend, the owner of the club, The Sinful Seven. She thought Joe was a good guy. He owned one of the most exclusive night clubs in LA, which anyone who is anybody frequented. And she thought he was a good guy? She questioned herself again. Right, I’m a dumbass. And since when had she been so dense, so naïve, and downright dirt dumb?

Everything was gone. Everything she’d worked toward all these years and finally succeeded and it was gone. Her life as she knew it would be screwed, along with her apartment, new car, and shoes…lots of new shoes. Most importantly, her career was over. There was no way she could model in high fashion magazines and be a runway model without being recognized. From what she understood, the criminal network her boyfriend was involved in was large, expanding to each continent around the world. Lane had become a key witness and a liability. They wouldn’t want her story told.

The name of the club, The Sinful Seven, finally made sense and it struck Lane hard. She face-palmed her head. There are seven continents and the club showcased women from each, and all were housed under one roof. They were kept as prisoners though. A headache developed, almost debilitating with the intensity. She needed pain relievers in the worst way.

Lane returned to her bedroom to continue the task she had started. Mr. Suit from the FBI stood in the doorway, leaning against the doorjamb in his black suit and tie. His eyes regarded her without emotion. It was just business for him, but for her, devastating. What do I even take? Where am I going? And when can I come home?

“Can you tell me where I’m going?” She pulled a handful of panties from her top drawer.

“Ms. Erikson, you will be briefed later this afternoon.” Mr. Suit replied with a solemn tone and a seemingly uncaring expression when he spoke.

“Well that’s great and all, but that sure as hell doesn’t help me with packing. Now does it?” Lane couldn’t help her sarcasm. Of course she realized the man was only doing his job, but it was how he did his job that pissed her off. “Can you at least tell me if I’m going to the North damn Pole? Seriously, what kind of clothes should I take? Do I need a frigging parka or a light jacket? Flip-flops or fucking snow boots?”

Mr. Suit exhaled as if irritated and rubbed his eyes. “Ms. Erikson, considering you’re from LA, I doubt you own a parka or snow boots.”

“Grrr,” she sounded off loudly and wiped another offending tear away. She started shoving shorts and sweatpants into her luggage. Jeans, I need those, too. Back to the closet she went and pulled out a couple of pairs. Socks, shoes, makeup, hair supplies…Her mind became overwhelmed with a task that should be simple. And suddenly, she couldn’t catch her breath. A sharp pain constricted her chest. Breaths came in fast spurts and no matter how quickly she tried to take them, it wasn’t enough. She didn’t feel like she could get enough oxygen. She turned, terror gripping her, and held her chest. “I, I can’t, can’t breathe!” She struggled to suck in another breath.

The last thing she heard before darkness took over was Mr. Suit’s voice. “Oh, hell. Send help!”

Sometime later, Lane awoke in a daze of confusion with no idea how long she was out or where she ended up. While struggling to open her eyes, she could swear they were full of sandpaper and glass. The sunlight made them burn as the light peeked in. Closing them again, she squeezed her lids tightly together. We’re moving, or I’m moving. A car, that’s it, she decided. She was in a car. They just made a right turn. The pounding in her head was worse than it had been before. What was I doing earlier? Where am I now? She finally forced her eyes open and shielded them from the offending sunlight.

She was thirsty as she touched her face, noting the puffiness of her eyes. I must look wretched. An object tapped her leg and she looked to see what it was. Sunglasses. Her eyes moved upward to the man sitting next to her. Mr. Suit, as she called him, since she had forgotten his name as soon as he had introduced himself, sat with an expressionless face, offering her his sunglasses. She had been sure he was a heartless prick until now. “Thank you,” she rasped out and felt her throat burn.

It was all coming back. Mr. Suit and a trio of other suited men escorted her to her apartment to gather her things. Then, the pain from the events that brought her to this particular point in time hit her full force, like a Mack Truck, and she was the pedestrian at the wrong place at the wrong time.

“Water?” Mr. Suit offered.

Lane accepted a cold bottle from him and twisted off the cap. The water soothed her throat. It bubbled as she guzzled down the entirety of it without stopping. A loud crunch of the plastic in her fist was the only sound breaking the silence. Her anger was still flaring and her emotions running rampant with unanswered questions.

“Ms. Erikson, I know you’ve been through quite an ordeal, but you need to push it out right now. Take a slow deep breath through your nose. Allow your chest to expand until you can’t take anymore.” Mr. Suit nodded as she followed his instructions. “Now, slowly exhale that breath.”

Lane exhaled and the exercise helped some, but not enough. “I think I could accomplish the same experience with some pain relievers and a cigarette, if you’ve got it.”

Mr. Suit reached into the inside breast pocket of his jacket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. With a light flick of his wrist, two popped out of the top and he extended them where she could pull one out. Lane wasn’t really a smoker, but it helped her stress level from time to time. Her life had been anything but normal. The last few years, up until a year ago, an uphill struggle.

One year ago, her electricity was shut off because she didn’t have the money to pay the bill. The cell phone bill had always been paid on time though. It was her lifeline and the only way to hear from prospective employers. The refrigerator had been so barren, even a mouse would shake his head, pack his bags, and leave. She had lived that way for the better part of three years since she moved away from home. She felt pretty pathetic, aged twenty four years and still living at home with her mother. When her mother remarried to a wonderful man, Lane didn’t want to ruin the bliss they had found. Lane’s father had skipped out on them when she was three and her brothers five and seven. Their mother struggled to keep them fed, in clothes with a roof over their heads. With her mother single and Lane an adult, it just made sense to stay as a roommate and help with the bills. Well, until Mr. Wonderful stepped into the picture.

She inhaled the cigarette deeply and immediately felt her blood pressure drop. The soothing flavor of the smoke passed over her tongue and filled her lungs as the anxiety momentarily drifted away. She quickly drew another long drag and held it for a second before releasing it. Since she didn’t smoke much, she caught a buzz instantly. The tiny distraction allowed her mind to drift off as she enjoyed the nicotine rush and stared through the darkly tinted windows. The only bright light coming in was through the windshield. The sunglasses made it bearable.

“So, Mr. Suit, how many damsels in distress have you rescued this week?” she asked, needing any kind of subject to think about other than her own miserable predicament.

Mr. Suit chuckled and a nice smile lit up his face. “You’d be the first this week, Ms. Erikson.”

“Hmm, must be your lucky day, huh?”

“Well, I’d feel a lot better once we get you safely out of here.” His tone was genuine and his baby blue eyes sparkled with honesty.

“Yeah, me, too.” She turned to stare out the window again, taking another puff of the stout cigarette he had given her.

Before long, they pulled into a parking garage. The driver stopped and handed his identification to the sentry and the gate rose ahead of them. He sped through like someone was hot on their trail. Lane turned to look out the back window just to be sure they were safe. Who would have ever guessed that me, Lane Erikson, born poor, struggling my ass off to rise above it all, would find a dream come true for a life, and then poof! All gone. She shook her head with the dizzying array of shapes and patterns floating through her mind, courtesy of the chemicals contained in the cigarette. She flicked her ashes out the cracked window and wondered if she was dreaming? Surely this couldn’t be happening to her?

The driver parked with an abrupt stop, making her chest heave forward. Her legs acted as a buffer to keep her from face-planting the driver’s seat in front of her. No one else in the car apparently thought his driving sucked, just her, damsel in distress, sitting in the back seat.

“Ms. Erikson, Mark will bring up your bags. If you will accompany me, I’ll get you the man that has the answers you need.” Mr. Suit spoke in his businesslike manner, but offered a sorrowful grin.

“Thanks for the shades and the cigarette.” She smiled even though she wanted to cry.

They got in the elevator and exited on the fifth and top floor of a seemingly innocent-looking building. From the outside, one would guess it was nothing other than a business call center of sorts, but on the inside, a sterile facility with men and women in plain business suits of blacks and grays. She walked past a bank of cubicles, each occupied by the same expression of business as usual. Phones periodically rang with that incessant landline quality Lane grew to hate when she had worked as a telemarketer a few years ago.

“Right this way, Ms. Erikson.”

Lane followed Suit past an official looking secretary and into an office just as sterile as the rest of the space.

“Mr. Donaldson.” Suit addressed the man sitting inside behind a desk.

The man peered away from his computer to look their direction. “Ms. Erikson, have a seat and we’ll get down to business.”

Suit patted her on the back and smiled. “Good luck, Ms. Erikson.”

She nodded and took a deep breath. She hated to see Mr. Suit go. Up to this point, he seemed to be the only semi-friendly face. He exited the office, leaving her stuck with Mr. Donaldson. She took a seat when he motioned toward the empty chair opposite his desk.

“I’m sure you have a lot of questions, so let’s get down to business.”

Her mind still raced with the events of the past twelve hours. She’d been in police custody since she had run screaming into an LA precinct sometime after midnight. Damn right she had questions, but she waited for fear her thoughts would come out in a jumbled up mess. All she knew was that she’d be going somewhere. That place had yet to be named.

“Ms. Erikson, I’m sure you already understand that your life is in danger. You’re a witness to a murder committed by a man the FBI has been investigating for some time.”

“Yes,” she said, and it was the only word she could manage. She had oodles to say in reality, but couldn’t form a coherent thought or sentence.

“Joe Reicher is under investigation for human trafficking—”

Lane waved a hand, already figuring out as much. All she wanted to know at that point was where in the hell they were sending her and when she could return to her life? “Skip it. All I want to know right now, at this very instant, is where on God’s green earth you are sending me? I haven’t slept in nearly twenty-four hours. I’ve seen a beautiful young woman dead—”

Mr. Donaldson interrupted. “I know this isn’t easy for you—”

“Isn’t easy, you say? You, the man sitting there calmly with a file folder opened up while I’ve had to pack my clothes to go…who in the fuck knows where.” She tossed her hands in the air with irritation. “Well, you, you apparently know. Meanwhile, my life has been upended. It’s going to hell in the blink of an eye, and you say, ‘I know this isn’t easy for you.’ Hell no it isn’t easy! In fact, it sucks and not in a good way!” Her nerves bunched up again and she began getting that nervous leg jiggling twitch she gets when worried. What about her life? What about her career? What about anything that meant anything to her?

“Ms. Erikson, I don’t mean to sound uncaring, but we have to expedite you away from the area until the investigation is complete.”

Lane rolled her eyes. “And how long will that be?”

Mr. Donaldson shrugged. “As with any investigation, there is no set in stone date for completion. The agency has been working on this case for a while. I cannot say with certainty when it will be completed. The important part, right now, is you. We need to keep you safe.”

“Why?” She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. “Because you care about my life, or because you care since I’m a witness?” She cocked her head to the side and studied him.


“Whatever.” She shifted in her chair. “I’m exhausted. I can’t form a logical thought. Every time I blink my eyes I get dizzy. So, tell me, where in the hell are you sending me, and when in the hell can I come home and resume my life?”

Mr. Donaldson pushed a folder toward her. “Inside is the location. I can’t say with confidence how long you will be there, could be months, years even.”

She sat upright in a fraction of a second. “What? Are you fucking kidding me? Years?”

He folded his arms over the desk and stared at her. “Yes, ma’am. This case is large with a huge criminal network—”

“Yeah, yeah. I don’t care. I have a life here. I’ve got modeling jobs next week!”

Mr. Donaldson stared at her for a moment. “You will have to cancel.”

“Can I opt out of this? I don’t want to leave. I didn’t ask for this!”

“Mr. Erikson, I know you didn’t ask for this, nor does any other person put into witness protection. We will need your testimony in the future, and we think it best if you’re alive to give said testimony. Of course, you can opt out. We can’t force you to take our protection, but the next place you may end up will be in a body bag like the young woman from the club.”

She swallowed hard. Body bag? Me? I don’t want to die. Would Joe kill me or have someone else do the deed?

As if reading her thoughts, Mr. Donaldson continued. “Yes, he would. I know what you’re thinking, and I’m telling you, Ms. Erikson, your life is in danger.”

Lane pulled the folder off the desk and lifted it up where she could focus through her bleary eyes. Blinking, she pulled it closer. Damn, it’s about time to have my eyes checked. “Where is this place?” She caught the name and realized she’d never heard of it. “Sunset Point Island?”

“It’s a small island located in the Pacific.” He replied in a matter-of-fact tone.

“You’re sending me to a small island!” All she could picture was Gilligan’s Island for some reason. She got to watch many reruns as a child. Small huts and no running water without the aid of the professor entered her mind.

“Ms. Erikson, this is the only place we feel with certainty you will be safe. There are only two ways on or off the island a couple times a day. It is a small place with a hometown feel.”

“Hometown feel as in we all share the same outhouse?” She’d like to think she’d be going to some posh resort island, like Maui, but since she had never heard of this particular place, doubted it could compare.

“Ms. Erikson, I think you will be quite pleased after living in LA.”

“I guess it doesn’t matter at this point. Does it? If I accept protection, I have to go where you say. Right?”

“Yes, that is correct. I mean, I could send you into northern Canada where the snow reaches six to ten feet during a single storm.”

Lane coughed and shook her head. “No, unknown island with outhouses will do.”

Mr. Donaldson offered a smile like he knew something she didn’t. Of course he does, she thought, he had the dart and threw it at the map for sport to pick out a place to hide her out. She began to wonder if they did that, just for fun and all. She turned the page while Mr. Donaldson narrated.

“The next page is your new identity. When you arrive at Sunset Point, you have to become Reece Wyatt. You are from Wichita, Kansas and the Wyatts of the island are your aunt and uncles.”

Lane looked at the picture of the three people. “But, I don’t know them.”

“You will. We have been in contact with them and worked out the details. Since the island is very picky about new residents, having relatives on the island will help you in and hopefully to blend in.”

“What kind of place can pick and choose who moves there?” Seriously? A place could do that? She suspected the place was smaller than Mr. Donaldson led on.

“Sunset Point can pick and choose new residents. It’s in their charter.”

The strangest feeling overcame her. She knew she must be dreaming, because she couldn’t make this shit up. A yawn echoed in the room. She was so tired she couldn’t even form a thought. The Skipper began to dance in her head with his goofy hat and grin. Would she be trying to build herself a boat, too, in order to get off of Sunset Point Island?
You do not have the required permissions to view the files attached to this post.