The first novel in the explosive new Southern Shield series from New York Times bestselling author Angela Knight explores the intoxicating games between a female cop and a Navy SEAL—and the killer instincts of a secret enemy watching every move they make.
Atlanta deputy Alexis Rogers and Navy SEAL Frank Murphy know all about power and restraint, necessary force, and pushing their limits. When they meet in the darkness of a BDSM club, their skills are put to use. With each successive night comes a new adrenaline rush, and while they’re falling into something perilously close to love, their games are still too private, too extreme, and too daring ever to be exposed.
But their intimate lives are upended when a fellow deputy of Alex’s is killed. It’s not a tragic hazard of the job. It’s cold-blooded murder. And he’s not the last to be taken out. Now Alex and Frank have found themselves more vulnerable than ever—and exposed to a killer with a twisted vendetta who turns desire into the most dangerous sensation of all.
Alex drove down the bumping, rutted track as it curved through the trees, the Dom right on her tailpipe. Finally he flashed his headlights at her again. She stopped and threw her car into Park. They were well into the woods, thoroughly screened from the road.
"Why, Officah," Alex purred aloud in her best Scarlett O'Hara drawl, "whatevah do you have in mind?"
She rolled down her driver's side window as he swaggered up to the car. Big, brawny, and black-clad-her fantasy Bad Cop come to glorious life. He even wore a pair of mirrored aviator sunglasses and a menacing scowl. "Get out of the car, please."
Her panties were already soaked, and he hadn't even started yet.
Alex put on her best Don't give me a ticket, I'll do anything expression. "But, sir, I wasn't speeding."
"I didn't say you were," he told her coldly. "Get out of the car."
She gave him big, worried eyes as she obeyed, closing the car door as softly as she could to keep the sound from carrying to his neighbors. "I don't understand. I haven't done anything!"
"Quit trying to play me, lady. There's a warrant out for your arrest." Grabbing her wrist, he dragged her to the trunk of her car, then spun her around so her back was to him. "It says you're armed and dangerous." He pulled her little .38 from the pancake holster on her belt, and displayed it with a threatening flourish. "And look here-you are."
Alex swallowed. Had he been anybody else, she might have broken out into the giggles right about then. But this was Frank. Something about him made this silly fantasy scenario feel a lot more real than it should have. "I can explain."
"I'm sure you can." His voice hardened. "Hands on the trunk, feet apart."
Before she could obey, he planted his palm between her shoulder blades and forced her to bend over as he kicked her feet wide. "I said, hands on the trunk, feet apart!" Automatically, she caught herself on her palms.
He started searching her. Never mind that no male cop ever searched a female suspect if he could avoid it; that was why there were female cops. And this was why they had that rule.
What Frank did wasn't a crude grope-he understood the fantasy too well for that. Instead, he ran his hand down her body in twin slow caresses. Until he reached the curves of her ass.
Pausing, Frank cupped the sensitive flesh through her jeans, squeezing gently, with just enough force to arouse. Breathless, Alex waited for him to circle around between her legs.
He sank to his haunches to continue the search down her legs in that same lazy way. Instead of guns, knives, or drugs, Frank's clever fingers sought bundles of nerves she hadn't even known she had. And made them fire messages of lust and arousal and pleasure until it was all she could do not to writhe.
Regaining his feet, Frank swept his palms around her rib cage to the underside of her breasts. He slid his hands up and around, dragging her bra out of the way, baring the curve of her breasts for his cupping palms, exposing her nipples to plucking fingers. The raw delight of the contact was so intense, it seemed to sting. She moaned, unable to bite the sound back.
"Like that, do you?" he growled, ducking his head down until he could speak in her ear.
"Let's find out how much."
