Picture Her Bound-epub Read Online Free Page A

into the bayou traditions they were losing with more modern culture.
    Jacques placed the new mug in front of her. It smelled kind of like tea, but she couldn’t put her finger on what kind.
    “What is it?” she asked.
    “ Traiteur headache remedy. Drink all of it.” He turned back to his cabinet and put away the ingredients.
    “Thanks. What do I owe you?” She wrapped her hands around the mug and sipped. The taste wasn’t exactly pleasant, but she gulped some down to get it over with.
    Jacques chuckled. “ Traiteurs don’t accept payment. It’s given freely.”
    Odalia upended the mug and drank the last bit, dregs and all. It tasted how it smelled, robust,with a burst of ginger and plenty of earthy elements. She shook her head and pushed the mug across the table. “Thanks.”
    She glanced at the clock. There were still several hours before her shift, but she needed to check on her dog, Creature, and see if she couldn’t ferret out a new lead on the camera. Even if Jacques was right, and the thief wasn’t interested in her pictures, she wanted the footage back. She continued to sip her coffee, savoring the flavor. It might be the next best thing to a cup of joe from Café Bwè, one of her favorite places to visit.
    Jacques collected both empty mugs from her. She wanted a second cup, but that would make her too jittery, and she didn’t want to crash during her shift. Instead, she watched him rinse out the cups. He must have risen before she did. He was freshly shaven and dressed, except for shoes. It was almost odd to see the bounty hunter in a homey setting.
    They’d first met at the club in passing, and again when he’d been turning over a fugitive at the precinct. She’d given herself whiplash that first time, but he’d nodded, drawled, “Mornin’, Officer,” and gone on his way.
    Yet every interaction with Jacques had been professional and courteous, unlike many other bounty hunters she’d met who’d sell their own mamma.
    “Up.” Jacques patted her back.
    “Huh?” She glanced up at him.
    “I told you I was going to play that ass of yours today.” He watched her from hooded eyes, his gaze heated.
    Now?
    In the morning?
    It felt taboo. Kink was for the night, to be done in the dark, where the shadows concealed their liaisons.
    “I will not tell you again, bébé .” The way he stared at her promised punishment if she didn’t obey. He stroked her hair, and she wanted to lean against him, allow him to do whatever it was he had in mind. “You hear me?”
    She gripped the table and the back of the chair, hoisting herself onto wobbly legs.
    The man had a voice for sin.
    Jacques kept his hand at the small of her back, guiding her to stand between two supporting beams that marked the edge of the area designated as the kitchen. The rivets had been removed from a few places, and chains hung from the holes. She’d noticed it in passing the night before, but with everything else going on, it hadn’t seemed important. Now those chains held her complete and utter fascination.
    Lust gripped her core, and her already hard nipples went hypersensitive. Even the abrasion of her silky camisole was too much.
    Jacques circled around behind her. “Arms up.”
    Odalia lifted her arms, stretching for the sky. A tiny flutter of nerves danced in her belly. Playing was the only time she put on makeup or did her hair. Something about the energy made her into a sensual, feminine creature she didn’t get to embody during her shifts. Would he find the disheveled, just-out-of-bed version as appealing?
    Jacques placed his hands on the front of her hips, flattening his palms and pulling her flush against his front.
    Well, now I know.
    She could feel the hard line of his cock against her back.
    Jacques slid his hands down her thighs and back up, over her panties. He drew her camisole up as he went, caressing her stomach and ribs, cupping her aching breasts briefly and whisking the fabric up over her head. She curled her