Bound, Bayou Bound 1
Officer
Odalia Foucheaux is a desperate woman. Incriminating photographs of her
after-hours job as a fetish model have been stolen, and she’s willing to break
rules to get them back. Standing in her way? The very dominant bounty hunter
Jacques Savoy.
Jacques has
been watching out for Officer Foucheaux. He wants her safe from harm as much as
he desires her body, her soul—and her submission. Odalia’s in trouble and
struggling to walk the line of the law. His solution? Work together to find out
who stole her pictures, what the thief wants and how to stop him. And if they
find a pleasure unlike any other along the way, well, laissez les bons temps rouler.
Let the
good times roll.
---
Excerpt
Odalia
Foucheaux pulled her hair up in a messy knot on top of her head and glared at
the man strapped to a metal pole in the men’s restroom. Through the windows
behind her victim, the lights of New Orleans glittered as another Christmas
drew to a close on the bayou. The drunken carousing was in full swing, but
tonight it wasn’t her problem.
Tonight
she was just a woman with a gun and a mission she hated more than her worst
enemy.
The
sounds of the loud bar echoed through the restroom, disguising the snitch’s
babbling.
Kenny
Douglas was a police informant known for caving under pressure. He’d given a
lot of bad information over the years, and at least one officer had taken a
bullet for this piece of shit’s bad intel.
“You’re
crazy, bitch. Someone, help!” Kenny tried to twist, but the leather belt held
him in place. He had a bump on his head, but she hadn’t been able to help that.
He was a small man, about five-eight, just her size. Taking him by surprise had
been her best option.
The
law-abiding cop in her screamed, revolted by how low she’d sunk. But if she
didn’t protect herself, no one would. It was a lesson she’d learned early on in
life, but never had it brought her to such a dark place.
“I’m
off the clock, Kenny. This little chat? It’s just between you and me.” Odalia
sauntered toward him, hating herself and Kenny for putting her in this
position. If she could put it all to rights, she could pretend like this
chapter in her life had never happened at all.
“What
do you want?” Sweat poured down Kenny’s brow, and his skin was bright red from
the large quantities of alcohol he’d sucked down before going to relieve
himself. Idiot hadn’t even realized who’d sent him more drinks through the
course of the evening.
Besides,
Odalia had needed the time to talk herself into this. There was no turning back
once she’d begun. She’d always followed the rules, kept her nose clean and kept
her life outside the uniform quiet. Until now.
“I’m
going to ask you once, Kenny. Who wanted you to steal the camera?” She pushed
her leather jacket back over her hips, letting the petty criminal catch a
glimpse of the piece she carried. Not her officer-issued gun, she wasn’t
stupid.
“I
didn’t steal no camera. You got to believe me,” he wailed.
Odalia
glared at the man. After the camera had turned up missing during a break in the
photo shoot, she’d found a jacket with Kenny’s name stitched on the breast. It
had been tossed over the barbed-wire fence around the studio her blazing-hot
photographer friend had rented for the Christmas Eve shoot. She knew Kenny had
been there. And she knew someone must have put him up to stealing the camera.
Kenny wasn’t the brightest crayon in the box.
Which
made her wonder, who put him up to it? Who knew about her off-the-clock gig?
She
modeled lingerie, underwear and funky clothing for a couple of small businesses
for their websites and advertisements, never showing her face. The work was
commercial, but she’d wanted to do something different. Something more
artistic, like the Inked photo shoot.
A local
Dominant had asked her to do an artistic BDSM photo shoot, one that touched on
that most private aspect of her lifestyle. For anyone else she’d have said no.
But there was something about the chocolate-skinned man that got to her. The
shoot had been more intense than many play sessions she’d had, and she’d
allowed herself to go further than she would have with a new scene partner.
Her
commanding officer wouldn’t understand the kinky nature of the photographs,
wouldn’t see them for the beautiful portrayal of bondage and submission that
they were.
She pulled
the empty gun from her waistband. Her piece normally gave her comfort, but now
it was a dead weight, pulling her down to the ground.
“Oh
fuck.” Kenny thrashed, twisting around the pole, but the belt held him fast.
“Kenny,
I’m not going to ask again.”
“I
don’t know what you’re talking about, crazy bitch!”
I don’t want to do this. I wish
there was another way.
Odalia
shook her head and sighed. “Kenny—”
Someone
pounded on the bathroom door.
“Hey—” Kenny snapped his teeth together
so loud they clicked.
Odalia
lifted the gun and laid a finger over his lips. “Just a second,” she yelled
over her shoulder.
The
door burst inward. A man clothed head-to-toe in black barged in and tackled
Odalia, wrapping his arms around her from behind.
She
went down hard, grunting as she banged her knee, and the gun slid from her
grasp. She knocked the side of her head on the floor, jarring her teeth. The
scent of urine, grime and sweat filled her nostrils and her skin crawled,
disgust churning her stomach. She kicked and thrashed, but the man was bigger
and stronger than her.
“Don’t
fight me, bébé,” a deep, husky voice said.
Odalia
gasped. What the fuck was he doing here?
“This
ain’t the way.” He hoisted her to her feet and grabbed the gun, shoving it in a
deep coat pocket.
“Fils de putain,” she spat and twisted in
his hold, but his grip on her arm was like iron.
“You.”
He pointed at Kenny with his free hand. “Don’t utter a word of this. Do you
know who I am?”
Kenny’s
complexion resembled a ghost’s on All Hallow’s Eve. He nodded, eyes large.
“Bounty hunter. Y-you’re Savoy.”
“You
know who I work with?”
“B-Bayou
Hunters.”
“A peep
outta you and the gators’ll be your best friends,” he drawled, voice low and
dangerous. “If I don’t get you, one of my team will.”
“Y-yes.”
Kenny nodded hard enough that he cracked the back of his head against the metal
pole.
Jacques
Savoy turned toward her. His dark complexion communicated tightly wound
aggression. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t speak disrespectfully of my mamma.
Now, you’re coming with me, bébé.”
“No, I
am not.”
Odalia
tried to wrench her arm out of his grasp, but the bastard wasn’t letting her
go. He dragged her through the drunken crowd of the Bourbon Street bar and out
onto the strip, ducking onto a side street at the first opportunity. The entire
district around the iconic street was one big party every night of the year,
but the side streets were quieter, though no cleaner. She smelled the build-up
of refuse over the Christmas holiday, stale beer and other elements she didn’t
want to identify.
“Let.
Go. Of. Me.” She kicked the back of his leg and twisted, getting free of his
grasp and whirling away.
Odalia
dashed toward the beckoning light of the street, only to be jerked back by her
jacket. She threw an elbow and hit his ribs. Her lower arm went numb, and he
didn’t so much as grunt.
“That’s
it,” he grumbled and shoved her into the nearest brick wall, pinning her.
“Fuck
you,” she growled and tried to throw her weight against him. She might have
been obedient and eager during their photo shoot, but this wasn’t the set, and
it wasn’t a dungeon.
“Take a
deep breath and use your fucking head, officer.” He spat the last word.
Odalia
bit her lip. His voice jarred her to clarity. Her body reacted to him despite
her resolve not to. He was too potent to resist. She hated whoever had
orchestrated the theft. She hated herself for sinking low. And she hated this
man for seeing her at her worst.
Hot
tears of rage fell on her cheek. She was powerless, completely helpless after
she’d vowed to never again allow herself to be a victim. And here she was. A
victim once more.
“Shh, bébé. Shh. I’m here. We’re going to fix this.” His arms
wrapped around her from behind, and his big body cradled her.
For
once in her life, she wanted to believe the lies someone spoke.
If only
Jacques could fix it.
REVIEW
This was a quick read. I love books based in New Orleans.....have ever since I read my first Anne Rice book! We don't get too much of the area in this book. What we do get is a mystery ..... okay it's not much of a mystery, and a HOT bounty hunter! Jacques is a teddy bear dominant, he likes to play but when they are not in a scene he's just a big sweetheart. Odalia is a cop that has to deal with a jealous ex.
This book is short and I didn't connect with Odalia, she just seemed too lost. The scenes do not travel too far into the BDSM theme. It all went too fast for me. I know these two have known of each other for a while but the ending was a little quick....and I don't mean the shortness of the book.
If you are looking for an afternoon of BDSM scenes with a little story thrown in then this book is for you. I give it 3 stars.
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