NYPD Heat by Jenna Byrnes

Author:Jenna Byrnes [Byrnes, Jenna]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781773621746
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

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Spike's was a dingy hole-in-the-wall dive on the riverfront. Sam glanced at Bobby as they entered, looking around, taking in the surroundings. A big, bearish man with a full red beard wiped down the counter behind the bar. A man with long gray hair perched in front of him, sipping a beer. Sam's eyes bulged when he realized a woman knelt at the gray haired guy's feet. She wore a thick, black leather collar with a chain leash that led to his belt, and not much else. "Is that a leash?" Sam mumbled.

"Oh, yeah." Bobby averted his gaze.

"What the hell else is she wearing?" He tried to look without staring. There appeared to be a leather bustier shoving her tits high. Her nipples were exposed, each bearing a silver hoop. A skimpy black thong covered very little of anything else. The woman kept her eyes to the floor, so Sam took an extra moment to study her.

"See anything you like?" Bobby teased.

He cocked his head sideways. "Is there a law against that?"

"The leash, no. The naked tits might be questionable."

They stepped to the closest end of the bar. Sam leaned against it and scoured the rest of the patrons. Two women sat at one table. Their normalcy relieved him for a moment. Then he spotted a third woman dressed in black leather sitting at a table in the back. A man on his haunches sat at her knees. He wore a silver studded collar attached to a leash the woman held. At least he was fully dressed, even if it was some kind of Spandex suit. Sam watched her sip beer from a bottle, and then lean down to pour some in a bowl on the floor. Her slave lapped it like a kitten.

"Fuck me," Sam muttered.

Turning his back to the bar, Bobby raised his eyebrows up and down and smiled. "That could be arranged."

"Shit." Sam looked at Bobby, and they both glanced back at the leashed guy on the floor. "Don't ever fucking think---"

"Nah, don't worry." Bobby shook his head. He lowered his voice. "There are varying degrees of bondage and discipline. These people look like lifestylers. I'm more of a weekend player. I'm not that hardcore, and I'd never do anything in public."

"I'd be dead meat at work if anyone there found out."

"They won't," Bobby replied firmly. "Like I said, I'm not into exhibitionism."

"Thank God." Sam rubbed one hand over his face. He suddenly felt the nervous and uncomfortable feelings of earlier all over again.

The bartender approached, giving him something else to focus on. "Help you fellows?" He gazed at them warily, and shoved the corner of his apron back so they could see the sheathed knife on his belt.

"We're looking for Ronni." Sam watched the man's expression.

His eyes flickered before quickly returning to normal. "No one by that name hangs around here."

"We hear she hangs with Ardon," Bobby offered.

The man looked them over. "I'm told Ardon don't hang with anybody, anymore. But then you know that, don't you?"

"That's right.

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