Unleash Your Darkest Desires

The Incognito Series delves into the world of BDSM as well as alternative triad lifestyles.

All of the erotic romance novellas in this series (Owning Rachel, being the only exception) were co-written with Anna Leigh Keaton.



Stories > Series : Incognito > Healing Heather


A dominant detective wants to help heal an abused,
submissive widow's heart.


With a secret grin for her naughty indulgence, she kicked off her sandals and hauled her summer dress over her head. Her bra came off with a quick flip of the front clasp, and she shimmied out of her panties. She cast one more glance over her shoulder before she ran into the ocean and dove into the next wave.

The rush of the cool water over her skin revitalized her. The sound of tiny bubbles and sand rubbing against sand soothed her even more. Her lungs burning, she shot to the surface and gulped in air. Floating on her back, staring up at the twinkling stars, she let out a breath she felt she'd been holding for weeks.

She could stay here forever, trapped between the peaceful pitch blackness of space and ocean. Her ears below the water, she felt isolated from everything. Every fear, anger, and hurt she'd ever experienced vanquished by the steady water lapping around her body, rocking her as if she were a child being soothed.

The waves slowly propelled her toward the beach, and when she felt the sandy bottom against her butt, she sat up, wrapped her arms around her knees and stared out at the distance horizon. So dark was the night, the ocean looked like a shimmering sea of onyx. Only the soft waves licking the shore, the little breakers tickling her toes, were as pale as her skin.

"Public nudity is an indictable offense."

Startled, she bit her lip to stifle the yelp, but didn't move. And when her heart settled its cadence, she grinned. Somewhere in the back of her mind she'd known—hoped—Paul would show up here. She knew he watched her every move. Deep in her heart it thrilled her, even though her mind insisted she should be pissed he'd disturbed her solitary peace and quiet.

Slowly, she rose to her feet and faced him. He was little more than a silhouette against the backlight of her bungalow. "Are you here to arrest me, Detective?" She felt his gaze as if he'd stroked her, even though she couldn't see his eyes.

"I could." He stepped closer, but stayed far enough back that the water didn't touch his feet. "I should."

She'd told herself to avoid him. Stay away and don't give in to his dominance. He was too powerful, and her heart would be shattered in the end. But what her logical mind said couldn't compete with what her heart and body kept yelling at her. Let him in. Let him in.

Let him in.

She stepped toward him, each step measured, calculated to emphasize the sway of her hips, the thrust of her breasts. When she was but inches from his big, hard body, she whispered, "You wouldn't dare."

He moved like lightening, as she knew he would. No Dom worthy of his title would let such a blatant statement go without punishment. He spun her around and before she could even suck in a surprised gasp, her hands were cuffed behind her, his arms around her middle, and her wet back was molded against his heated front.

"You have the right to remain silent—"

The cuffs were cold, hard metal. Beneath her fingers was the hot, hard bulge of his cock in his jeans. She tingled from head to toe. "And if I give up that right?"

He turned her again, slower this time, and cupped her face in his big, gentle palms. "Then you will be punished." His voice was as dark as the night. As seductive as the ocean.

Her heart pounding in excitement, her breaths ragged with anticipation, she challenged, "You don't scare me."

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