Page 86 of Honey Bee Hearts

“You here to arrest me?” he asks, amused.

“Only if you’re bad,” I tease.

He smirks and leans in. “Then get your cuffs, Annie Oakley.”

I suck air through my teeth, doing my best to look unaffected. I fail. Fuck, what girl wouldn’t?

Breakfast is a small affair. Mel made bacon and egg croissants the night before so he could attend some sort of business today, so we chow down on those before everyone disappears. All but Colt. He sits on the other side of the table, his fingers steepled in front of him, his eyes on me.

“Why are you staring?” I ask, narrowing my eyes on him.

“Am I not allowed to stare at a beautiful woman?” he replies.

I flush and it only makes the corner of his lips quirk up.

“Are you busy today?” I ask, watching him carefully.

Each of these men are vastly different. Rhett is like a scruffy stray dog, loveable, but carrying the trauma of the streets on his shoulders. Trent is an elusive cat, always trying to blend in and avoid being perceived. Gunnar is equal parts golden retriever and rottweiler, fiercely protective of those he calls his own but always smiling. And then there’s Colt. Colt is a predator, always lying in wait for just the right moment. A jaguar stalking its prey, blending into the underbrush. Part of me thinks Colt has looked beneath my skin, that he can somehow read deeper than the surface. Another part of me realizes he wants to cut me open and see what’s there. I don’t know why that doesn’t terrify me like it should.

“No,” he replies. “Actually, I have something I wanna show you.”

“Oh?” I ask.

“Come with me,” he orders, standing and coming around the table to offer his hand.

I take it, because despite the perception I have of Colt, I trust him completely. Maybe that’s stupid of me. Maybe I should be more cautious. When he leads me out to the kennels, that feeling starts to grow. Unease flickers through me as we walk into the silent building. The dogs are all clearly outside in the yard, roaming free and enjoying themselves, so it’s just the two of us in here.

“The dogs are all outside?” I ask. He nods. “Then what do you wanna show me?”

“You’ll see,” he replies, guiding me down the rows before finally turning into an empty room down at the end. This room doesn’t hold dogs usually. It looks more like storage. Along one of the walls, a bunch of different styles of collars hang from hooks. Leashes of all kinds hang beside them, waiting to be used for Colt’s training sessions.

He turns and meets my eyes after he shuts the door. My anxiety skyrockets as I suddenly feel like a caged animal.

“Don’t be afraid,” Colt purrs.

“I’m not,” I say, and I mean it. I’m not afraid, but I am nervous. The way Colt begins to stalk around me has my nerves on edge.

“Must be that sheriff badge giving you courage,” he teases, and his fingers stroke along my arm as he passes behind me before coming to a stop in front of me again.

I tilt my head. “It is pretty easy to be brave when I outrank you,” I tease, tapping the sheriff badge. “Sheriff is higher than officer.”

He chuckles, stalking around me again. He presses himself against my back, his hands trailing up my arms before circling my neck from behind. He doesn’t squeeze, only gently rests his hand there.

“You know,” he rasps in my ear. “I’ve been thinking about you and Trent since Friday.” He pushes my hair over my shoulder, and I can feel his warm breath against my neck. “The way you had him on his knees.”

“Yeah?” I ask, my thighs clenching together. “What about it?”

He presses his lips against my neck, softly, teasing. “I want you on your knees like that for me.”

I glance at him over my shoulder. “So, you prefer control then?”

He chuckles. “What about me makes you think I could ever be anything other than in control, Annie Oakley?”

I’m tense as he starts to trail around me again, stalking me, cornering me. I should leave. Colt is intense, dangerous, but I don’t move. Part of me is eager to learn just how dangerous he can be. When he moves over to the wall and strokes his hand through the collars, I watch him carefully, trying to figure out what exactly he’s doing.

He picks a choker collar from the wall, a simple silver chain one and holds it on the end of his finger as he looks at me. His eyes light with fire as he takes in my posture. “On your knees.”

I tense. “What if I say no?”

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