Book Three of the Boston's Brave Series
Regan Malloy is a dedicated homicide detective married to her job. A tough woman who holds her own when it comes to the opposite sex, she is nevertheless resigned to lonely nights with fantasy men. When a serial killer targets wealthy submissive men from an upscale BDSM club, Regan is convinced the killer is a woman and goes undercover.
Kyle Ramsey is a topnotch litigator juggling life as a divorced father and a workaholic. Raised to be strong and to always take charge, he has trouble trusting that anyone else can get the job done. When he finds his good friend murdered, he mounts his own investigation despite Regan's warning not to interfere.
Regan is furious to find the sexy lawyer at the club but can't deny her attraction or her need to dominate him. Kyle discovers more than clues as, to keep from blowing their cover, the fiery cop demands obedience. Together they embark on a journey to explore this new world of hidden desires, but the road could take a dangerous turn when they cross paths with the killer.
The hunt for a killer, a submissive witness, and the Domme in charge of both...
“Sergeant Malloy…or should I say Mistress Regan?”
“I didn’t give you permission to kiss me,” she replied in a cool tone.
Kyle twitched a little, as if to gauge the strength of her hold on him. “We’re not having a session, Mistress Regan.” He sounded annoyed but not too annoyed. His obvious ambivalence egged her on.
“Aren’t we? I make the rules, remember?” With that warning, Regan grabbed a fistful of his hair with her free hand and, pulling him away from the wall, frog-marched him into the kitchen.
“Now what?” he demanded through gritted teeth.
She shoved him against the countertop over the dining space and made him lay the side of his face on the cool, granite surface. “I didn’t give you permission to speak, either,” she admonished before letting go of his hair.
He made no effort to get away during the short trip from the hall, and he still had a hand free to try something. Even with her expert training, she knew a man with at least fifty pounds on her could give her a run for her money. He wasn’t fighting her because he didn’t want to. He wanted her to control him and to dominate him.
The knowledge sent her pussy into overdrive. “You’re a very disobedient boy, Kyle.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he agreed in a cheerful voice that grated on her last fucking nerve.
“And you’re enjoying this entirely too much.”
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