[18+] Mark just wants a quiet life. With plenty of action at work, he has no interest in bringing the drama home with him. But he does need a flatmate, and when blonde bombshell Zoe crashes onto the scene, she's more than he bargained for.
Zoe is a...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
March 2007
MARK
Lips pressed together, she tips her head to the side. Shiny blonde hair falls like a waterfall across her left cheekbone. Soft. Serene. I focus on that. Not on her reaction – the wrinkle of her forehead and the scrunch of her nose. The inevitable judgement. The shock.
"Why do you look so nervous?" she asks. "It's pretty common, right?"
Typical. In sweet Zoe fashion, she hasn't connected the dots. She's probably imagining a set of fluffy pink cuffs.
"They were mine." I thread my fingers together and rest my hands on my knees.
"Yours?"
"My handcuffs."
Still nothing.
Sighing, I close my eyes and summon courage. In doing so, I block out the unwelcome memories. Something that turned me on at the time now repulses me.
"Police handcuffs," I clarify.
Realisation widens her eyes. Here it comes. The disgust. The disappointment. I brace myself.
Instead, though, her gaze turns curious as it coasts down my body.
"Were you in your uniform, too?" she asks.
Can't answer that question. By some miracle, she's not judging me. I need to quit while I'm ahead.
But then a smile stretches across her face. "Wow. Two in one. Role play and bondage. Congrats."
I suppress my relief. "The police wouldn't have been impressed. Not that it matters now."
"Was it her idea or yours?"
"Hers. I don't think she realised how uncomfortable real handcuffs are."
At the time, Ruby had refused to show any discomfort—because then she'd have had to admit I was right. Real handcuffs aren't sexy. They're not designed for comfort and pleasure. And I've never had a kink for fucking a criminal.
But she wanted to try it, and I'd try anything. Still would. Just not real handcuffs again.
Zoe is everything that Ruby isn't. Sweet. Kind. Authentic. Even now, she's scanning my figure with zero subtlety, a red flush creeping up her neck. I'm not a mind-reader, but I know what she's thinking. Imagining. Visualising.
"What did you put?" I ask, before my own mind can get carried away.
The redness spreads across her face. "Oh. Um, threesome." She flips the notebook around.
I glance down before meeting her gaze again. "Sorry if I've made you uncomfortable by over-sharing."
"No! You haven't. Not at all. That's what this is about, right?"
