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Third, was Chloe and her idiocy of asking him what he wanted to do during the middle of this insane storm. I don’t know if Dodger was really going to go help out, but I wouldn’t let him. Especially when he got on me about being in it myself.

He was crazy.

And so was I.

However, he takes the cake when metal wraps around my wrists resting at his shoulder, my free fingers resting on the edge of his jawline, and the action makes me snap out of it just as the restraints do the same.

Dark hazel eyes filled with lust and hunger stare back at me, and I suddenly feel small and hunted.

Forcing myself to look at my wrist, Dodger has a pair of his handcuffs dangling from it, and that’s when I know I’m in for trouble.

“W-what are ya doin’?” I stammer out right before Dodger wraps his fingers around my other wrist, takes hold of the cladded one, and brings them together behind my back.

“Detainin’ you.”

Is he serious?

My heart slams furiously in my chest out of anticipation, fervor, and need. My legs clench tighter together when he positions both of my hands behind my back and finally apprehends me.

To his every want and need.

Or to keep me here while he deals with Chloe’s call.

“Sheriff,” she comes on his radio again, perfectly on cue. “Are ya there?”

Dodger presses the button to say casually, “Everyone’s gonna have to deal with it on their own until the storm passes. No one is runnin’ calls right now.”

“But—”

“Take their names. It’s too dangerous to go out there. I’m busy.”

A few beats go by, and Dodger runs the tips of his fingers up my forearm, as if testing to see how warm my skin is, when Chloe responds, “Alright, Sheriff.”

Dodger unhooks his radio from his shirt and tosses it onto a chair that sits along his dresser.

His room is medium green with dark wood trimming and a bed that could fit an army. Everything is minimal, the only decoration being a wooden skull of a deer and antlers.

I did notice a bathroom connected but I lose focus when he softly begins kneading my flesh there and pulls me closer. Our chests pressed together, his cool and damp through my dry shirt.

“Ya don’t arrest folks and start feelin’ them⁠—”

“I didn’t arrest you. I’m doin’ exactly what ya wanted me to do at the school’s charity function.”

I blink a few times, forcing myself to act calm and collected, but Dodger’s hands on me…have me all messed up. “And…what was that?”

Slowly, he leans over, his lips hovering over mine when he mutters, “To have my absolute and utter way with you, Adeline. Tell me I made the shit up and I’ll stop.”

He didn’t.

And I won’t.

I’m completely at his mercy, and I have zero issue with it.

I love it.

And he hasn’t even done anything yet.

“I’ll take your silence as a no.” He pushes his sweatpants down, and they fall down the length of my legs, and I gasp in surprise that my fantasy—one of many—is possibly about to play out here.