Dirty Sexy Cuffed (Dirty Sexy 3)

She barely moved, testament to just how spent she was, and it made him smile. She made him smile. Somehow, and in a very short time, she’d managed to make him feel things he’d never allowed to slip past the walls he’d built around his heart . . . hope, need, and an unfamiliar yearning that was startling in its intensity. Shockingly, he didn’t fight the sensations. No, for the first time in his life, he welcomed them, even realizing that, in the end, she could still walk away—but he’d make it damn difficult for her to do so when or if the time came.

He managed to retrieve the key from the front pocket of his pants, and he released Sarah’s wrists from confinement. Her arms flopped to her sides, and he chuckled as he massaged them just in case they’d fallen asleep. Hell, he was beginning to think that she’d fallen asleep.

He stroked his hands up and down her back. “Hey. You still with me?”

“Barely,” she murmured, her warm breath caressing his neck before she slowly lifted her head and met his gaze. “What just happened?”

He chuckled. She looked dazed and bewildered, in the best way possible, and he couldn’t resist teasing her. “I think you just got well acquainted with a Magnum-sized cock.”

An adorable blush swept across her cheeks, even as she rolled her eyes at him. “Yeah, that might take some getting used to,” she said with a cute little smirk. “Not that I’m complaining, because you felt pretty damn amazing.”

“It was all you, sweetheart,” he said, enjoying this lighthearted banter between them that felt so easy and natural. “I need to go and clean up. How about you stay here and I’ll be right back?”

“Okay,” she said, and crawled over to the long section of the couch where she could still lie down.

He stood up and covered her with the lightweight blanket he kept folded over the sofa, then disappeared into the bathroom. He returned a few minutes later, still naked, and settled beneath the covers next to her. She immediately snuggled against him, so warm and soft and content, and he realized for the first time ever that the couch was a great place to cuddle.

Wait. Had the word cuddle seriously just entered his vocabulary? Yes, yes, it had, and Jesus, Mason would have a field day with that one.

Mentally shaking his head, Levi tucked Sarah into the crook of his arm, wanting to keep her just like this, safe and secure so nothing could ever hurt her. At least she was no longer working at the Circle K in a shitty neighborhood, but he couldn’t stop thinking about what the motel clerk had said to him earlier today about some guy asking about Sarah.

“Can I ask you something?” Sarah said, taking the words right out of his mouth before he could ask her what was on his mind.

“Sure.” He absently caressed his hand down her bare arm, figuring he’d answer her question first, then he she’d owe him in return. “You can ask me anything.”

“Anything?” She lifted her head and grinned at him, her eyes sparkling playfully. “You sure about that?”

He hesitated before replying. He had no idea what she wanted to know, but he was shocked to realize that he truly didn’t mind sharing things about himself with her. Maybe because she’d grown up similarly and had a past as painful as his own, it made it easier for him to open up to her. He knew there wouldn’t be any judgment, just understanding.

“Yeah, I’m sure. What’s on your mind?”

“I really enjoyed what we just did,” she said with a genuine smile, though he didn’t miss the tentative note to her voice. “And I know putting the cuffs on me is all tied into that issue of you being in control, and you’ve been very clear about that up front. But you said something last night while we were eating dinner that I keep thinking about.”

“And what’s that?” They’d discussed a lot of things last night, mainly her past, while he’d been far vaguer about his. At the time, that had been a deliberate tactic on his end.

Her index finger absently traced imaginary patterns on his chest, and her brows knit into a pondering frown. “You made a comment about when you were a little boy, how you were always being threatened to be good or you’d be taken away. Who did that to you?”

He exhaled a deep breath and glanced away from her inquisitive gaze. He’d known a personal question had been looming, but he never would have guessed that she’d ask about the most difficult part of his childhood. The one that had shaped and molded him in ways that had affected every aspect of his life because of the dark, ugly secrets he’d been forced to carry and the emotions he’d had to stifle in order to survive.

He’d been five years old at the time, but now he was a grown man. The devastating, frightening threat his junkie mother had issued couldn’t hurt him any longer. He’d always tried to keep that part of his past buried deep—no one knew what he’d endured, not even his brothers, because his mother had used them as part of her intimidation, as well. Maybe it was time to let it all out, so he could release the anger and bitterness tied to those memories.

When he remained quiet for too long, she laid her head back down on his shoulder. “If you don’t want to talk about it, I understand,” she said softly.

“I do want to talk about it, at least with you.” The words came out before he could think twice about it, but he didn’t regret them. “But I have to warn you up front, it’s not a pretty story.”

He felt her smile against his chest. “You and I have that in common. Neither one of us had a simple or idyllic childhood, so I doubt anything you say would shock me.”

He wasn’t so sure about that, but as he threaded his fingers through her soft hair, he decided to be completely honest about everything. “You already know about my mother being a junkie and a prostitute. Drugs were all she cared about, and as far back as I remember, up until the age of five, while my brothers were in school she’d take me with her on what she’d called her ‘special errands.’ She didn’t want to leave me alone in our apartment and risk someone calling social services, but fuck, I really wish she’d left me behind.”

She looked back up at him, her expression pained. “How bad was it?”

“Really bad,” he said, his voice already feeling raw, his stomach in knots. “First, she had to get money for her drugs, and we’d end up in dark alleys that scared the shit out of me. And she wasn’t particular about how she made that cash. She’d make me sit in the backseat of her crappy car while she’d give any random john a blow job in the front seat, or she’d make me

wait all alone in the vehicle while she disappeared into a seedy motel room for an hour in a drug-infested neighborhood where anyone could have taken me. I was five fucking years old,” he said, his entire body vibrating with anger.

She wrapped her arms tight around him, hugging him in a way he’d never been held before. Like a solid anchor in this turbulent sea of emotions he was navigating. Physically, he felt her comfort and support, but she remained quiet, giving him the chance to purge every last repulsive recollection.

“I remember men coming up to the car while she was gone and trying to lure me out with candy or a promise of a toy.” Pedophiles, most likely, Levi knew now. “I’d keep the windows up and the doors locked because I was so terrified, but sometimes it was so damn hot that I’d be drenched with sweat by the time she got back into the car. By then she had the cash she needed, and all that mattered to her was buying that little bag of crack or meth or heroine. She didn’t care which. And once she had it, she didn’t hesitate to snort the powder or shoot up right in front of me.”