When people think of holiday romances, they often think of sweet and heartwarming. In SnowBound, however, we have two damaged people pursuing a merciless sex trafficking ring. Will Landon--a psychic pained with visions of his kidnapped sister--be able to bring her home to his family before Christmas? Will Haley--the reckless FBI agent--be able to stay on the right side of the law? Propelled into a dark world of sex parties and murder, the two become ensnared in their own erotic experimentation that leaves them questioning exactly how far they're capable of going.
**dark themes, explicit sexual situations, and dubious consent**
Read the first chapter here...it starts off with a bang...18+ content~
Walls have ears.
Doors have eyes.
Trees have voices.
Beasts tell lies.
Beware the rain.
Beware the snow.
Beware the man
You think you know.
-Songs of Sapphique
Days like this could only lead to one thing: a really good drunken, anonymous night of debauchery. Anger surged through her veins and she needed to take the edge off. Haley Masters paid the taxi driver and exited the car without a backward glance. Walking down Larimer Street in downtown Denver, Colorado, she gave the white lights twisted around trees and giant lit ornaments strewn across the street a passing glance. Holiday merriment simply didn't do it for her tonight. Only one thing would quell the fire burning in her gut: a really good fuck.
"Hey, hottie!" A homeless man hollered at her from where he leaned against the wall amidst the shoppers and diners of the evening. His friends whistled.
She stayed focused as she crossed the street toward the loudest, most obnoxious bar she could find. The cold air snipped at the exposed thighs peeking out between the hem of the short leather skirt and knee-high black boots. Flurries stuck to the caramel-colored hair sliding across her face with the breeze. Breath formed a fog in front of her mouth as she pulled open the glass doors. Inside, she looped her leather jacket over the back of a barstool, perched on the seat, and waved down the bartender.
"Tequila, neat," she ordered before taking a moment to settle herself.
If the agency knew how she burned off energy after a particularly nasty case, she'd be fired in a heartbeat. After months of working on a sex trafficking case that had taken her from Maine to Colorado, she and her partner had hit a dead end today and all she could think about were the pictures of the missing girls' they'd been tracking.
Damn it, she'd wanted to get them home to their families before the end of the year, preferably by Christmas, but now it didn't seem like that would happen. She winced at the bite of failure.
Blowing out a long breath, she rolled her shoulders back and adjusted the flowing neckline so it fell slightly off one shoulder and hinted at the curve of her breasts beneath the thin red fabric. Time to forget for a few hours...lose herself in a haze of alcohol and lust.
She scanned the room and straightened her spine. Her partner, James, wanted to follow-up with a psychic who kept sending them messages about his sister who he thought was connected to the ring they were investigating. They'd had a fight about it before she'd left their temporary housing at a residential hotel. She might be down and, yes, they'd had a setback, but she couldn't justify calling in a psychic, especially one with a reputation as a fame whore.
Not that she'd looked him up or checked out his credentials that James had rattled off as if he'd suddenly become a groupie. She believed in logic and had yet to find any evidence of the other side. As for the man's sister, well, she felt sad for him if his theory was right. This ring had left a wake of bodies behind it wherever it went.
Always one step ahead, she thought with irritation.
She'd started to suspect they had a mole inside the bureau.
James had called her paranoid.
As if someone could do this job and see the dark side of humanity without becoming a bit paranoid? Get real, James.
Gratefully, she tossed back the shot of tequila and ordered another.
"Looks like you're out to have a good time." A man slid into the seat next to her. "Drowning sorrows or deadening a guilty conscience?"
She drank the second shot—and motioned for a refill without answering. Despite her intentions for the night, she needed a few drinks before the hunt could begin. It usually took three shots for the tequila to warm her blood and bring out the female predator hidden by day beneath conservative suits and a badge.
"Silence...I get it. No problem. A lot of people have issues this time of the year...I didn't mean to intrude." He leaned his back against the bar and observed the crowd, his thigh bumping hers as he adjusted himself on the stool.
She slid her gaze over him and did a quick profile: bad boy con artist who liked his sex rough and his women feisty. At least a foot taller than her, she had to look up at him even from this sitting position. Chocolate hair waved back from his face and curled around his ears, green eyes focused on the amount of skin revealed by her blouse, and his smile screamed I'll-Make-You-Come-Over-and-Over-Again.
Exactly the disposable type she was looking for tonight.
Haley perched her elbow on the bar and faced him, her knee sliding along his thigh as she turned. "Issues?"
"Oh, she speaks." He drank his tequila while surveying the crowd around them.
"You don't care much for social boundaries, do you?"
"Do you?" His gaze lingered at the hint of her black lace bra exposed by the fall of her blouse down her shoulder.
He emanated power and confidence. His gaze across her shoulder, up her neck and over her face felt like a tangible caress.
She shivered under the scrutiny and squeezed her legs tighter together to stop the sudden tremble in them.
"I don't remember asking." Her gaze dipped lower over the leather jacket and black sweater he wore underneath it. Her fingers itched to touch him. "Are you a tourist or do you live around here?"
"A little bit of both."
"A man of mystery."
"Yes, actually, I am." Smiling, he looked at the bartender and ordered a shot of tequila for himself before handing her the third one.
As an FBI agent, she knew the risks. She also knew she could handle herself.
Right now, she wanted to handle him.
"Man of mystery? You'd think I'd be intrigued and ask some questions about that, but I'm not."
"Not what? Intrigued or bothered to ask a question?" His slow smile reassured her that they were headed down the same path.
"Can you keep a secret?" She leaned within a few inches of his face and looked him in the eye.
"I've been known to keep many."
"I don't really give a damn about your story." She dropped her hand over his, watched the golden flecks at the center of his eye flicker with the dilation of his pupil. "But I'm definitely interested."
"Straight to the point," he whispered.
"Why waste time?" She slid her hand slowly off of his, enjoying the role of seductress. Her finger lingered on his wrist before she picked up the fresh round of tequila, lifted it to her lips, and downed it without looking away from his eyes.
Damn, despite her act, she really did want to know more details. He had a certain air about him that hinted at danger and darkness.
Landon mimicked her actions with the tequila, a challenge in his eyes as if daring to see how far she'd go.
What he had no way of knowing is that she didn't have limits, not on nights like tonight when the need for human connection drove her past the point of caring about rules or protocol. Nights like this she needed something to make her feel alive after becoming numb from a job that had few happy endings.
"Strangers in bars can be risky," he said. "Maybe I'm here to kidnap you and make you do my bidding."
"I have a license to kill...don't make me use it." She leaned her elbow on the bar, enjoying the baritone of his voice.
He quirked an eyebrow. "A woman after my own heart."
"It's not your heart I'm interested in having."
He laughed, a look of genuine surprise lighting his face. He dropped his hand to the bare skin of her thigh exposed between the boot and hem of her skirt. Leaning in, he asked, "Want to hear one of my secrets?"
"I have very few inhibitions."
Pulse accelerated at the idea of getting him naked and uninhibited. She'd had a frustrating month of chasing madmen across the country, battling red tape, and dealing with a challenging partner. Sitting within a fraction of Mr. Tiger Eyes, she wanted to unleash all that pent up energy onto him.
"Grab a taxi with me?" she asked, not willing to waste another minute on small talk.
"Might as well get on to the good stuff." He winked, tossed some money onto the bar and then stepped from the stool. Before she could grab her jacket, he held it out for her to slip into.
She slid her arms into the leather sleeves, back to him, and smiled at the gesture. When he pulled her hair to the side and kissed the back of her neck, shudders of pure desire melted her panties to her skin.
Danger always turned her on and, picking up this man felt like a Level Red Imminent Threat.
She looked up at him and grinned. She might be small in comparison to his massive frame, but a tour of duty in the US Marines followed by extensive training at FBI headquarters in Quantico gave her an advantage. The combination made her the perfect undercover agent...and gave her confidence for her secret lifestyle in the night shadows.
"I'm Haley, in case you're wondering." She snagged his hand and led him toward the door.
"I didn't think we were trading names." He laughed, his fingers tightening over hers.
"I changed my mind." Again only giving the holiday lights a cursory glance, she led him down the street to where a line of taxis waited outside the Westin.
Once inside the taxi, Landon pulled her against him, molded his hands over her ass, and sucked on her lower lip.
She liked his straight to the point attitude. Grabbing his crotch with one hand, she held the back of his head with the other.
Eyes wide open, they kissed. Slowly at first before growing animalistic. Biting. Sucking. Groping. Passion reverberated between them like a living thing binding their bodies together in a force field that couldn't be escaped.
Hands beneath her skirt on the bare skin of her ass, he slipped a finger beneath the thin strip of her thong. He moaned against her mouth as if sensing her need.
She rubbed her hand over the zipper of his jeans, thrilled at the bulge hardening beneath her touch.
"C'mon, guys, I have other passengers during the night. Keep it clean back there," the taxi driver said.
Laughing into each other's mouths, they ignored the reprimand and kept touching each other in ways that made the clothes unbearable barriers to satisfaction.
Once at her hotel, she let Landon pay for the driver while she straightened her skirt. He snagged her by the waist and led her toward the lobby.
Inside the elevator, they plastered against each other again, tasting, licking, nipping, teasing until the doors opened on her floor. If others had come in, she wouldn't have noticed. All of her senses disappeared except for feel and taste.
She fumbled with her key card, nearly tripping over her high heels in the haste to enter.
Landon kicked the door closed before twisting her around and slamming her back against the wall. Hands on her wrists, his lips burned a trail from her chin to her cleavage. His tongue slipped over the curve of her breasts. His thigh pushed between her thighs.
"Strip for me," he said against her skin.
Backing away abruptly, he stared at her through the dark room as if daring her to comply.
Not taking her gaze from his face, she shrugged off her coat and tossed it aside. She unbuttoned her blouse, pausing for a minute to slide her fingers between her breasts and down her abdomen.
He watched her every move as if hypnotized.
The knowledge empowered her boldness.
Turning her back, she let the blouse slide from her shoulders, past her ass, and onto the ground as she walked to the king-sized bed illuminated only by streetlamps glowing through the windows.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, she lifted one leg, unzipped the boot, looked at his face, and slowly pulled it off. She repeated with the other. Abruptly, she stood and yanked the comforter away, giving him a good view of her butt as she crawled to the center of the mattress wearing only her leather skirt and bra. Standing, she faced him. She wiggled free of the skirt, bending ever so slightly to show off the bounce of her breasts barely concealed by black lace. Biting her bottom lip, she unsnapped her bra and shrugged so that the straps fell slowly down her shoulders.
He groaned from where he stood in the shadows.
Sitting, she tugged off her thong, looked at him, and leaned back on her elbows.
"Your turn." She tweaked her finger toward him in an inviting gesture.
"Damn, you're exquisite," he muttered before yanking his sweater over his head. "We're going to have fun."
"Oh, yeah, we are." She scooted back on the bed, grabbed the bottle of tequila she'd bought earlier, and twisted off the lid. Without breaking eye contact, she poured the liquor over her breasts. "Care for a taste?"
He shoved his jeans and underwear down, his hard cock erect and throbbing. Gaze focused on her tits, he crawled over her, licking the trickling alcohol that had slid down her abdomen before sucking greedily on her nipple.
She curled her fingers into his hair and held his face tight against her breast, loving the feel of being devoured. She stared at the tattoos on his shoulder and bit her lower lip. He had a body that delivered on the promise his smile had conveyed at the bar.
He nipped at her other breast, his fingers claiming the erect nipple he'd abandoned. His cock pressed against her thigh as he continued his sweet torture of her tits.
She squeezed his shoulders before sliding her hands over his wide back. She gasped when he shifted his weight and smothered her mouth with his. The weight of his body pressed her into the mattress, his tongue possessed her mouth so completely she could barely breathe.
His hand slipped between her thighs, thumb toyed with her clit as his fingers slid inside her wet cunt.
She spread her legs wider, the need for him having become a steady drumming in her core that drove her over the edge of control. She twisted her hips to meet the rhythm of his hand.
"Damn, you're so hot for me," he growled against her ear before sinking his teeth into her shoulder.
She shouted at the pain that both shocked and excited her.
He leaned back on his knees between her open thighs, grabbed her hips and pulled her to sitting. His eyes gleamed with primal need while he wrapped her hair around his fists.
"Want to make this interesting?" He tugged on her hair.
"It's already pretty interesting." Head tilted back from the force of his hands pulling her hair, back arched with her tits out, and legs spread around his kneeling thighs, she felt utterly exposed.
He teased her cunt with his cock, but did not enter; instead, he slid his penis up her slit and over her clit. Slowly while watching her face react with wanting.
"Tell me you want me," he commanded.
"I want you."
He cinched her hair tighter around his fists, causing her to bend further backward. He bent his head and teased her nipples with his teeth while his cock rubbed against her clit and her pussy pulsated with need.
She gripped his shoulders for balance.
"Beg to suck my dick," he whispered against her throat.
"Please let me suck your cock."
Abruptly, he released her hair and pushed her back against the mattress. He crawled over her, pressing her arms down with his knees, bracing his hands against the headboard, and propped his penis against her lips.
"Do a good job," he ordered from where he peered down at her.
She grabbed his balls in one hand, his shaft in the other, and licked the tip of his penis as if it were the sweetest candy she'd ever tasted. Thick and long, his cock felt perfect in her hands as she worked him in and out of her mouth. His hips thrust deeper, effectively fucking her throat. She squeezed his balls, loving the way they filled her palm, hand moving over his shaft, lips sucking, tongue licking all while he fucked her face.
"Stop," he gasped, before sliding his length free of her lips and moving down her body.
He buried his face between her thighs and ate like a starving man while he shoved his fingers inside her with a force that made her shudder. The air on her bare breasts hurt the taut nipples. Her mouth felt empty without his cock. She clenched the sheets at her side and thrust her hips against his face.
When he shifted from the bed and reached for his discarded jeans, she twisted her legs on the mattress in protest. Condom on his delicious cock, he leaned over her, met her gaze, spread her legs as wide as he could get them, and grinned.
"Ask me to fuck you."
"Say my name."
"Fuck me, Landon."
"Happy to, Haley."
He plunged inside her in one long stroke. Deep. He rammed inside her without mercy. Hard. Ravenous.
Her tits bounced at the force of his thrusts. She twisted her head against the pillow, wanting more and more.
He moved over her, looped her knees over his shoulders, and ground his mouth against hers while his slammed his cock harder and deeper until an orgasm ripped through her and she screamed into his open mouth.
When he finally came, he shuddered against her and laughed against her lips.
Legs still over his shoulders, she gripped his forearms and struggled to catch her breath.
"Let's take a shower," he whispered against her ear. "The night is young and there's still so much to do."
She grinned at the possibilities of what was to come. Body aching from his rough touch, she slid from beneath him and walked to the shower.
"Damn, Landon, you know how to rock a woman's world."
"I try." He followed, his hands sliding over her shoulders and mouth kissing the back of her neck. "I think I'm addicted to your skin."
"A little early to be addicted."
He stood behind her while she soaped up.
His hands slid around her breasts from behind. "I'm insatiable around you."
"I know the feeling" She reached behind him and grabbed his cock that had already revived for round two. Her pussy throbbed with expectation.
"Spread your legs."
She propped her palms against the tiled wall, head bent beneath the spray of the shower, and spread her legs as wide as she could without falling.
He grabbed her hips, lifted, and slammed himself inside her again, biting her shoulder and kissing the back of her neck while the warm spray of the shower pounded their joined bodies. Quick but satisfying, he slapped her ass after he'd come again.
"I'll wait outside," he whispered against her ear, leaving her to finish showering alone.
She remained propped against the shower wall for a minute before lifting her face to the water. Her reasons for going out tonight faded to the recesses of her mind from the effects of mind-blowing sex and the alcohol running through her veins.
She took her time, blow dried her hair, and wrapped herself in a robe. When she walked into the bedroom, she stopped short at the sight of him dressed and sitting on the edge of her bed with a gun in his hand.
A chill went through her.
"I need you to cooperate with me, Special Agent Masters." Handsome face devoid of a smile, he nodded to her packed suitcase. "Get dressed and walk out of here with me without making a fuss."
"What is this?" Her mind tossed with possibilities of wrestling the gun from his hands, kicking his jaw, and damaging that delicious cock she'd practically worshipped.
"I'm Landon Mitchell..." he paused for effect.
The psychic who'd been leaving all the damn messages.
Gritting her teeth, she pulled on a pair of jeans and a sweater. "This isn't exactly persuading me to take you seriously."
"If I had known the only way to get through to you was to pick you up in a bar, I'd have done so a few months ago." Waving the gun toward her jacket, he stood. "You're coming with me."
"Kidnapping a federal agent...real smart. What if I don't go? I could scream."
"You were screaming earlier and no one came." He smiled. "Well, except for me. I came. Twice. So did you."
"Bastard." She folded her arms across her chest. "You don't know who you're dealing with here. I'm going to fucking destroy you."
Moving at a shocking speed, he grabbed her hair and forced her up against the wall. The gun pressed between her ribs.
"This isn't a joke. My sister is one of those missing girls you've been tracking and I know where she is—at least I see a place. I need your help but you've ignored me. I know exactly who you are and know you're one of the best. You're going to come with me now because time is running out, do you understand?"
"You couldn't have said all of that at the bar?"
"Would you have given me the time of day? We both know the answer to that. Besides, you had other plans for me." He reached to the back of her head and pulled her hair. "Remember?"
"You will again. Soon." He kissed the side of her face. "Now let's go."
"I'm not going." Despite the top of her head only reaching the center of his chest while she stood barefoot, she had the power of surprise on her side. Without hesitating, she round-kicked him, slammed her elbow against his jaw, spun around and grabbed the wrist of his hand holding the gun.
Using the full weight of his body, he crushed her face first against the wall. Before she could react, he'd pulled her wrists behind her back and slapped handcuffs on her. Rattled at being caught off her game, she stumbled when he stepped back and draped her jacket over her shoulders.
He grabbed her bag and purse containing her own gun and badge and looped them over his shoulder before reaching beneath her jacket and jabbing the gun against her ribs.
"You're not really going to shoot me." She put one foot in front of the other, legs weak from the intense orgasms, too much tequila, and subsequent assault. Mind shell-shocked at the turn of events, she struggled to form a strategy.
When had she lost her edge?
"I'm desperate for someone to help me find my sister." He met her gaze. "In your experience, what do desperate men do?"
She sighed and broke eye contact. With a heavy heart, she allowed herself to be walked out of the hotel and into his car. She made a point of looking into the security cameras as they left. She knew her partner, James, would look at the footage and figure out she hadn't left willingly. She might break a few rules with her sexual escapades, but she never abandoned an active investigation.
Keep reading SnowBound...
**dark themes, explicit sexual situations, and dubious consent**