Her Cruise Ship Surprise | ✔

Chapter One

"I don't think this is the proper use of handcuffs," Tamara Jackson's date for the night said as he lay on her bed with his hands cuffed to her bedposts, wearing only his black boxer shorts.

She'd met him at the nightclub while trying to drown her sorrows in a beer. Her partner got a promotion while she remained stuck in the same damn position. She did everything she was told, captured more people than anyone else in the precinct, and she was still rejected. Again.

"Sorry, Tam. We just don't think you're ready for it yet," her boss told her when she'd stormed into his office earlier that day.

"Why? Because I don't suck ass?"

Her Captain never really answered the question and waved her out of the room so he could take a call, but she knew the truth. Kinda hard not to. The gossip fluttering around the precinct was that she was a frigid, cold witch, and that she'd decked Abraham Walker while they were on a date.

What did they expect? He tried to push himself on her. Who wouldn't knock a creep like that on his ass? She wasn't cold. She wasn't frigid. She just didn't like men who wouldn't take no for an answer.

In the end, she wound up with a severe reprimand and a leave of absence for assaulting a superior officer—superior her ass.

Abraham was an asshole, like all the other men she'd dated. Her boss told her she was lucky he wasn't pressing charges. If that wasn't the reason she didn't get the promotion, she didn't know what was.

Tamara shook her head and snatched the sheer black lingerie off the hook in her bathroom and slipped it on, determined to forget the woes of the day. It was backless and had a plunging neckline that highlighted her modest cleavage nicely, her nipples visibly showing through the thin silky material. Leaning down, she grabbed the feather duster out of a basket of goodies and walked back into the bedroom to her date.

"The handcuffs look great on you," she said, standing at the foot of the bed with the duster resting across her shoulders, as she held it with both hands. "I like this use for them a lot better, don't you?"

Mark's gaze travelled down her body and back up again. "Oh ya!"

Desire rippled through her. She hadn't planned on letting anyone into her house tonight, but she needed this fix, needed to be in control of something for a change, and what better thing to control than a man's dick. It never seemed to have trouble giving her attention. That's all she really wanted.

She didn't want a man's hands all over her body, it reminded her too much of Harley. Thankfully the man was rotting in his jail cell and would be there for a considerable amount of time yet.

He wouldn't even get out on parole for another five years minimum. Tamara closed her eyes for a second and shoved away all the bad thoughts.  Time to focus on the male specimen on her bed.

He'd been hiding in the corner of the bar. Alone. When their eyes locked, he'd raised his glass to her and sent her a sombre smile. It would seem they both had sorrows to drown. He quickly agreed to a no strings attached sex-filled evening, promising her that he was clean. Apparently, his wife of 10 years had been sleeping with his best friend and he'd just finalized the divorce.

She opened her eyes and walked beside the bed, grabbing the blindfold off the side table. Straddling him, she covered his eyes with it and pulled the strap over his head, letting it snap slightly as it moved into place.

He jumped. "Hey."

"Shh," she whispered, her lips caressing the tender spot beneath his ear lobe. "Tonight I'm going to help you forget your ex-wife."