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Handcuffed and Bared
Handcuffed and Bared
Handcuffed and Bared
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Handcuffed and Bared

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Being a cop in New York is one thing. Being a thick black woman meant she was teased even more. Waking up with dirt under her fingernails and having wild sex dreams only made things worse. With her libido out of control she didn't know if she had some weird illness or losing her mind. When Derrick shows up in her world claiming she wasn't completely human and they are mates it's more than she can take. Calgon cannot take her away from this type of madness. He incited a heat in her from just one kiss that threatens to burn her world down. After witnessing an incident that shakes her worldview she can't deny what Derrick is telling her but mates? That's a bridge too far. Can she accept everything Derrick as to offer or will she run away?

From the moment Derrick scented her in the woods he knew he'd found his mate. Despite the noise and crowds he refused to let her push him away. He can't believe someone as sexy and brave could doubt herself so badly; especially when it comes to her sex appeal. He's willing to help teach her all about this new world she's been shoved into and all the pleasurable ways that can help control her mating heat. But will she let him? Can he help her overcome her doubts before it's too late?

LanguageEnglish
Release dateFeb 2, 2019
ISBN9781386298984
Handcuffed and Bared
Author

Dahlia Rose

Dahlia Rose is the best-selling author of contemporary, military and paranormal romance with a hint of Caribbean spice. She was born and raised on a Caribbean island and now currently lives in Charlotte, North Carolina, with her five kids, who she affectionately nicknamed “The Children of the Corn,” and her biggest supporter and longtime love. She has a love of erotica, dark fantasy, sci-fi, and the things that go bump in the night. With over six dozen books published Dahlia has become a reader favorite. Not only because of her writing but her vivacious attitude in talking to her fans online and at various events. Books and writing are her biggest passions, and she hopes to open your imagination to the unknown between the pages of her books. http://hearttoheartwithdahliarose.blogspot.com www.facebook.com/author.dahliarose www.twitter.com/dahliarose1029

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    Handcuffed and Bared - Dahlia Rose

    Chapter One

    Officer Amina Adams stepped out of the bakery. In her hands she held a bag and a cup carrier with two steaming cups of coffee, and a bear claw was in her mouth. The sweet pastry tempted her to bite down and chew but she didn’t want to lose the rest in the street.  Outside the bakery, the squad car waited and inside, her impatient partner Charlie Sullivan.

    They’d been partnered for two years and became friends even though at first he had a thing against working with female cops.  Maybe it was because she sprang for breakfast or lunch each day, depending on their shift hours.  She did have the hook up: the bakery was owned by her friend Melody.

    Melody kept telling Amina to embrace her curves and her size fourteen figure. She grimaced at the thought. She was always on some new diet or working out, yet her body only got toned, not thin. And fuck yes, Amina passed her certifications, including the five-mile run each year with flying colors. She may be chubby—and she recalled being teased when she first joined police force—but she had proved them all wrong and was one damn fine cop.

    She may not have been able to accept that she would never be under the double digits in the size chart, but hell, she wasn’t going to refuse food either. It’s a slippery slope my girl, a slippery slope, she thought as she went down the steps to the car. Charlie leaned over to open the passenger door of the car, and she handed him the coffees before she climbed in.

    The car smelled the usual way, a hodge-podge of old smells from sweat to puke. Probably other bodily fluids that couldn’t be washed away with the usual cleaning solutions even if they were professional cleaning grade.  She’d long been desensitized to the yuckiness that probably lived in cop cars. If she wasn’t, she’d probably go insane, but she calmed her neurosis by keeping a case of Lysol in the trunk of the car. She mentally reviewed the list was flex cuffs, shotgun, and yep, a case of Lysol, the requirement for an NYPD car.

    What did we get today? Charlie asked greedily.

    Two French vanilla cappuccinos with an espresso shot in each, two breakfast croissants for you, and a bear claw and croissant for me, Amina answered.

    Charlie took the bag and stuck his nose inside it and inhaled. Did I ever tell you that I love you and being your partner is the best thing that ever happened to me?

    Amina snorted. Yes, every time I bring you free food, and that tells me your love is fleeting.

    Don’t be jaded. Charlie stuck his hand in the bag and pulled out a croissant.

    I’m not, trust me, Amina answered. Do you want me to drive so you can feed your face?

    Nah, I can do this in my sleep with one hand, Charlie answered and swerved away from the curb. See, I’m a professional at this.

    Amina had grabbed the arm handle on the roof of the car when he moved. As usual, his car maneuvers made her heart race. It was getting better though. When they were first partnered, Charles’s at the wheel made her want to drink.  New Yorkers were aggressive on the roads by nature, but Charlie was even worse. She recalled one incident when he swerved like a maniac and caused her curly hair to come out of the neat bun she kept it in for work.

    And that pissed her off, because her curls were untamable at best, and trying to get those pins back in place would’ve been a useless battle. Walking into the precinct with her black hair bouncing on her shoulders had garnered her the nickname of Curlilocks. Luckily, she could stand her own, and the teasing didn’t take one iota away from the job.

    So what’s the agenda for the day? she asked around another bite of her bear claw.

    We patrol, we get the scum off the streets, and we go home, Charlie answered.

    Great.

    She rolled her eyes and looked at her partner. Charlie was at least forty-two or so to her twenty-seven, not married with the classic Italian looks and brown slick hair to boot. He could have been in old mobster movies and had the lingo that’s for sure. How many times had she heard hey yo yelled from the confines of the car?

    Amina picked up the morning report that was handed out at the station and scanned through the descriptions of the be-on-the-look-out flyers and other information. Detectives, vice, and narcotics got the big busts, but it was she, Charlie, and other patrol officers who actually beat the streets and found the criminals.

    It’s Friday, what do you have planned tonight? Charlie asked.

    Home, paint my toenails, wash my hair, and bed, Amina answered automatically.

    Shit, you say that every day, Charlie grumbled.  You’re a pretty girl. I’m not big on the thick, curly hair, and you Caribbean girls are a bit too feisty for my taste. But come on, some guy would date ya.

    Gee thanks, Amina said. By the way, I was born here so I’m American, and my heritage is Caribbean American as I have explained a thousand times.

    Yeah, yeah, I know. You could set me up with your baker friend, Melody, Charlie said and sighed. A woman who can cook and bake like a dream.

    You want her to cook for you and be barefoot and pregnant? Amina asked. Who says you’re her type, anyway?

    A woman like that needs a man to take care of her and then she in turn needs to be needed. Charlie merged with traffic after the light. How old is she anyway, too young to make a move, huh?

    Melody is thirty-three, and she likes older men, Amina answered. Honestly, she could see Charlie and Mel together. She would spoil

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