The Game Of Love: House Of Sex, Scandal And Sexy Singles Read online

  "I... I th-think you have the wrong person."

  Lincoln stuffed the badge back into his inner pocket and then slipped his hand into his outside jacket pocket to produce the handcuffs. "Don't make this harder than it has to be, Angelique."

  She sighed. Frowning, her eyes showed a look of resignation. "Alright," she muttered, "I'll go with you."

  Slipping the cuffs back into his pocket, Lincoln let out a sigh of relief. He took a step back from the counter and waited for her to come around the counter and allow him to escort her from the restaurant.

  Head down, she slowly made her way around the counter, until she hit the door for the kitchen. And just like that she made a run for it, dashing into the kitchen.

  "Fuck!" Lincoln growled leaping over the counter and beginning what he assumed would be a short, yet annoying pursuit.

  As he entered the kitchen, he felt his feet slip out from under him. He reached out to steady himself on the stainless steel counter next to him, but it was too late. Within seconds he found himself on his back, lying on the greasy floor. He turned his head just in time to see her smirk at him, give a tiny wave and disappear out the back exit.

  "Oh, that cocky little..." he bellowed as he pulled himself to his feet and continued his pursuit of her, bursting through the back and into the back lot of the coffee shop. His eyes did a quick scan and happened to see her race into an alley between two apartment buildings.

  He broke into a full run chasing after her. He dodged cars as he crossed the busy street and ducked into the alley he'd seen her disappear into. The alley became a maze of dead ends and high fences, so he was certain as long as he followed where it led, he'd have her.

  ****

  Damn, damn, damn.

  Tears blurred Angelique's eyes as she sat, hidden at the back of a stinky dumpster. How did life get this bad for her? Just six months ago she had everything, a promising career as a journalist at a prestigious newspaper, a nice home and was soon to be married to a man she loved and admired, Nathan Winters. Then, in the blink of an eye Nathan was dead and she was the one going to trial for his murder.

  Her breath caught in her throat as she heard the sound of footsteps beside the dumpster. Just as the footsteps began to move away, she heard a squeak and felt something run across her exposed ankle. She yelped, and covered her mouth to try and stifle the noise, but it was too late. The owner of the footsteps started back in her direction.

  The footsteps came back to the dumpster, and the lid was flipped open to display the bounty hunter glaring down at her. In other circumstances she would have found him attractive, but as he stood staring down at her trembling body, all she could thing about was that this was the end of the line for her. She was going to trial and then to prison for a crime she didn't commit.

  "It's over Angelique, come out." He extended his hand to her, but she cowered away from him, inching away until her back hit the cold steel back of the massive dumpster.

  The blonde-haired man huffed and his eyes narrowed at her. "You can't be serious. You have no idea how pissed I'm going to be if I have to come in there after you."

  It may have been over for her; she was caught, but she'd be damned if she was going to make it easy on him. She cocked her head to the side and gave him the same condescending smirk she'd given him when she'd seen him slip on the vegetable oil she'd intentionally spilled on the kitchen floor during her escape from the coffee shop. "Guess you're going to have to earn that bounty and come and get me."

  His features darkened and anger flashed within his deep grey eyes. "Fine. Have it your way." A deep, growl-like noise came from him as he pulled himself up and into the dumpster.

  Seeing one final chance to escape, she scrambled to her feet and leapt over the side as he jumped in. She tripped as she landed on the cement ground of the alleyway, skinning the palms of her hands, but she righted herself once more and lunged forward.

  "For the love of fuck, Angelique!" he shouted after her followed by a grunt and thud as he jumped from the dumpster and continued his pursuit.

  She had just begun to regain a small sliver of hope when she felt an arm wrap around her waist and an impact which felt like the force of a Mack truck slamming into her back, sending her tumbling to the ground. As Angelique landed, the wind was knocked from her as his weight came crashing down onto her. She was still trying to regain her breath when she felt his weight lift, and her wrists being grabbed roughly and cuffed behind her back.

  "We could have just done this the easy way, Angelique and you could have saved me a lot of aggravation. Now you have me in a bad mood."

  Angelique huffed. "Do you honestly think I care about your mood?"

  "You should since you're stuck with me for the next week. I can be a really nice guy, Angelique, but I can just as easily be a major asshole. Ball’s in your court."

  Once her arms were secure, Lincoln stood, grabbed her arm and pulled her roughly to her feet. Still not wanting to admit defeat, even with her arms secure behind her back, she tried to jerk her arm from his grasp.

  Grabbing her around the waist he pulled her rear tight against him. The fight in her was pretty much gone, but she couldn't resist bucking against him a couple more times. She gasped and she froze against him as she felt his cock begin to grow and press against her bottom.

  "Oh-my-god," she gasped. "You're actually turned on by this? By chasing down a defenceless woman?"

  Lincoln stepped back from her, grabbed her arm roughly and pulled her along as they made their way back out of the alleyway. "You were squirming that tight ass of yours against my dick as if you were a damned stripper after a buck; what did you expect?" he defended, refusing to meet her gaze, though as she watched his expression she saw a flush beginning to redden his face. A slight grin touched her lips as a plan began to formulate in her mind, not the best plan in the world, admittedly, but one nonetheless.

  She allowed her eyes to wander up and down the length of him. He was at least six foot. She guessed close to 6 foot 2, short-cut blonde hair and deep grey eyes. His shoulders and chest were thick and powerful. He was attractive, no doubt about it, in a rugged sort of way. The kind of guy she'd easily be able to fall for - under different circumstances.

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