Too Close Read online

  CONTENTS

  Copyright

  Praise

  Titles by Sasha White

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Gifted with a salacious imagination, National Bestselling

  I needed more information, and I needed it fast. As

  Published by Sasha White

  White Hot Books Edition

  Copyright © 2006 Sasha White

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN: 978-0-9936590-7-2

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author's imagination, or have been used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.

  Praise for the novels of Sasha White

  “Intensely sensual.”—Romance Junkies

  “The writing is strong, the characterization is well-drawn, and likeable…and the sex is very well done. This is hot!”—Angela Knight

  “The heat is on…and never cools down.”—Midwest Book Review

  “Soul-grabbing, richly evocative, and unforgettable.”—Suzanne McMinn

  “Enjoyable through and through.”—Romance Reviews Today

  “White does a fabulous job of keeping the balance between an interesting plot and uninhibited sexual activity.”—Fresh Fiction

  “Packs a tremendous punch…stimulating, steamy [and] scorching-hot.”—Fallen Angel Reviews

  “Delightful and very thought-provoking.”—Enchanted in Romance

  “Sasha White stretches her imagination to places this reader cannot wait to go!”—LovesRomance.com

  “Creates a carnal haze that envelops the readers, caresses their senses…deliciously decadent.”—The Romance Studio

  “Sexy, raw, and intriguing.”—The Road to Romance

  Titles by Sasha White

  The Dungeon Series

  Bound

  Watch Me

  Trouble

  Wicked

  My Prerogative

  Anthologies

  Lush

  Lusty Ladies

  Romantic Suspense

  Wicked Game

  Too Close

  Paranormal-erotic romance

  Sexy Devil

  Primal Male

  Most Wanted

  Science Fiction-erotic romance

  Mavericks of Space

  The media has tagged her The Risqué Robber. A woman who is seducing her way into rich men’s bedrooms, tying them up, and then emptying their safes... and it’s Kane Michaels job to bring her in.

  The distinctive way the victims are bound is the only lead Kane has, and he’s not thrilled about it. With nothing else to go on he follows the lead to the city’s hottest bondages clubs, and one clubs beautiful manager. Before he can stop himself Kane accept's the seductive club managers challenge and is exploring the world of underground kink clubs with her as his guide.

  For Vanessa Lawson, The O Club is home, and it’s owner a friend. What started out as a favor for that friend somehow turned into a side-job that could cost her everything including the man she’s quickly falling for if he ever learns she’s the one he’s hunting.

  CHAPTER ONE

  He tried to control his heart rate as he drank in the vision of her. With feet planted wide apart in fuck me stiletto’s that made his dick throb, and the stretchy rope he’d found in the closet hanging suggestively in her hands, she had him so excited he could barely see straight.

  His wife was out of town visiting her family, and when he ran into this seductive woman in the lobby of his law firm he knew Lady Luck had just given him a gift. Her short blond hair framed a pale face with heavily lined eyes and full bright red cock-sucking lips that made him think of a Geisha. When her blue eyes had locked with his earlier, the invitation to have a drink together had flown from his lips.

  Somehow, they’d ended up at his house for that drink, and now they were in his bedroom. Him naked on a straight back chair, and her getting ready to tie him up before she rode him long and hard.

  God! Just the thought of her climbing onto his lap and sinking onto his aching cock had him closing his eyes in anticipation. But the then he couldn’t see her anymore, and that was a true loss.

  “Ready, Handsome?” She leaned forward and brushed her lips across his cheek, her words flowing into his ear, and racing down his spine. He looked down her dress and the view of abundant breasts spilling over the lace cups of her bra had saliva pooling in his mouth.

  How this woman had managed to get him worked up like a fifteen year old when he’d been feeling every one of his fifty-two years only an hour ago was beyond him.

  “More ready than you can believe,” he replied and placed his hands behind his back and gripped the rungs of the chair.

  The light brush of her fingers against his arms had the fine hairs standing on end as he felt her wrap the rope gently around his forearms. She wrapped it several times, going closer to his wrists with each turn. There were some rustling noises and he felt soft plump flesh press against his arms. “Hurry up back there would you?”

  She finished with a gentle tug, and then put her hands on his shoulders from behind. “How does that feel?” she whispered in his ear.

  He tested the restraint, surprised when he had no movement. There was very little pressure on his wrists and nothing cutting into his skin. He was almost disappointed there was no discomfort. “It feels fine, good. Now step around here, lift up that skirt and climb on for the ride of your life.”

  Vanessa Lawson let a wicked chuckle rumble from between her painted lips as she strode around the arrogant prick she’d just tied to the chair and headed for the west wall. It had almost been too easy to seduce him.

  She ignored his sputter of surprise and the curses that should’ve turned the air blue as she opened the antique armoire there. Adrenaline pumped through her veins, but her hands were steady as she went straight for the safe hidden behind the hanging clothes, and pushed any lingering sexual thoughts out of her mind.

  Edward Yardley was a decent looking guy. His hair was meticulous and he was in good shape for a man his age. However, his ego was even bigger than the erection standing proud in his lap at the moment, and that was what made her job so easy. When you knew what made a person tick, it was easy to get what you wanted from them. And there was no doubt that what made this man tick was the thought of a night of hot nasty sex while his new wife was out of town.

  Sucking in a deep breath Vanessa keyed in the combination into the safe, only to let it out nice and easy when she saw that the idiot was too arrogant to change it after he divorced his first wife. Everything was just as she’d been told it would be. She pulled out three jewelry cases and a canvas bank envelope. After checking the envelope to make sure it contained the cash, she closed the safe.

  Vanessa shut the door of the armoire and turned back to the red-faced man in the chair. She gave his still hard cock a hungry glance. It really was a nice one, too bad the guy was such an asshole or she might’ve given him the ride before she wen
t for the safe. “Don’t worry, Handsome. I won’t tell anyone how easy it was to get you to ask me to tie you up if you don’t tell anyone I was here, period.”

  She sauntered from the room, leaving him with a wilting hard-on and a variety of lame threats flying fast and furious from his thin lips.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Forty minutes later Vanessa strolled into the small thirty-year-old cottage style house she called home. Signing the mortgage papers on it six months earlier had been one of the proudest moments in her life. Not many twenty-six year olds owned their own house. Then again, she wasn’t your normal twenty-something.

  The house needed a bit of work, but it was clean and stable, and it was hers. That was what all that mattered.

  She tossed the leather backpack that held the stolen goods, her wig, and the makeup kit with her three pairs of colored contacts on the floor, and sank down on the faded futon she used as a couch. With a small sigh she unbuckled her heels then reached for the phone on the side table. Flexing her feet and stretching her toes, she punched in the familiar number and waited for her friend to pick up.

  “I’m back,” she said after a cultured female voice answered on the third ring.

  “Was there any trouble?”

  “Nope. In fact, it was ridiculously easy.” Vanessa took a deep breath and spoke her next words clearly. “But that doesn’t change what I said before. That was the last time, Ophelia.”

  “Of course, Nessa. This last time was strictly a favor to me. I’m aware of that and I thank you.”

  Except the first one, they were all favors.

  She wanted to remind Ophelia of that, but she couldn’t bring herself to be snippy with the woman she owed so much to.

  What could she do? Friends did favors for each other, and Ophelia was the only person Vanessa considered a true friend. So when she asked for something, it was damn hard to say no. But, instead of dwelling on the topic, she made plans to drop off the goods the next day and said good night to her friend.

  Vanessa pulled herself up off the futon and headed for the bathroom, stripping the slinky dress off as she went. As she undid her bra, she shoved all hints of loneliness aside and focused on the distraction that always worked. Sex.

  The image of Yardley panting as he peeked down her dress came to mind. The fact that she’d gotten a bit of a thrill from his obvious desire reminded her it was time to find another lover. It was almost two months since she’d set John loose to find another, and while she didn’t miss him and his neediness, she did miss the sex.

  She really missed the sex.

  “The Risqué Robber strikes again.” Detective Kane Michaels threw a folded newspaper on his friend’s desk. “Fucking reporters are gonna screw everything up.”

  Jackson Barrows was a good cop, and a good friend. And that was the only thing that kept Kane from smacking him upside the head when he looked up from the file in his hands with a gleeful smirk. “It’s time to put on a collar and go hunting in the clubs, my friend.”

  “The only collar in my house belongs to Mystery.” Kane ignored the smirk and dropped into the chair behind his own desk. He reached into his trouser pocket for a hard candy and popped it into his mouth, balling up the cellophane wrapper and flicking at his friend while savoring the rich flavor.

  “You still got that mangy cat?” Jack dodged the shot and picked up the newspaper.

  “She’s not mangy anymore. In fact, now that she’s been in my loving care for a while instead of on the streets, she’s got a shiny coat and a sweet disposition.”

  Jackson snorted. “Too bad you didn’t have the same effect on woman as you do on cats.”

  “If I ever found a woman I wanted to keep around she’d purr happily in my lap the same way Mystery does.”

  The banter between the men was fast and smooth, second nature to them both.

  “An inside source says ‘The woman who’s committing these crimes is not only seductive to her victims, but damn talented with a rope.’” Jackson read out loud.

  Kane switched gears as he flipped through the last batch of pictures from Yardley’s crime scene. “With each robbery, the victim is bound in a different and more creative way. And even when she uses a silk tie or an electrical cord to bind them, there’s never a mark or bruise left behind.”

  “That’s not much to go on after four robberies in ten months.” Jack shook his head and leaned forward to tap his pencil on the photo of Edward Yardley’s bound wrists. “Tell me about these ones.”

  “These ones are beauty. She used a twelve-foot section of climbing rope this time. Forearms and wrists were bound to the chair in such a way the guy didn’t have a clue what he was getting into until he tried to stand up and realized that not only was he bound, but he was stuck there until someone else came along.” He met his friend’s gaze. “A clear example of Shibari.”

  “You an expert on bondage now?”

  “No, but I showed the crime scene photographs to that guy you found online, the Bondage instructor, and he says it’s so.”

  Jackson shook his head, smirk still peaking out from under his Fu-Manchu style mustache. “Did they lift anything from the rope?”

  Kane heaved a sigh of frustration. “No hair or skin, just a piece of fiber. They’re looking into it, but I’m not holding my breath.”

  “So you get to cruise the local adult playgrounds looking for a sexy babe that likes to get kinky, but isn’t so kinky she’s into pain, while I get to catch up on paperwork.” He shook his head. “Want to trade?”

  “Sorry, bud. But I didn’t get myself shot in a drug raid, so I’m not stuck with desk duty. Although, I can say I’m sorry you are since you seem to know all the right places to look for information on bondage knots and that’s the only solid lead I have to follow, so far.”

  His blood heated and his frustration eased as the thrill of the chase ran through him. It was time to start digging deeper into the sub-culture of alternative lifestyles.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Kane was frustrated as hell.

  In the past week he’d been to almost every club on the list of ‘adult playgrounds’ Jack had compiled for him. And he’d had absolutely no luck.

  Sure, he’d met plenty of people dressed in leather and lace with Goth style makeup and studded collars. A few of them, male and female, had even offered to tie him up when he’d hinted at an interest in bondage, but none of them had given him the perp tingle.

  Pretending to be into the lifestyle had gotten him nowhere, and after double-checking the knots and restraints from the Yardley photos he knew that RR wasn’t just playing at bondage. The particular way things had been done had led them to learn more about bondage, and Shibari in particular. The more he learned, the more he realized that the woman knew what she was doing.

  Shibari was more than just tying someone up, or even the way the knots were done. It originated with the Japanese and is considered an art. With the restraints being done in different designs meant to be effective, pleasing to the eye, and pleasing to the recipient, it wasn’t something just anyone could do. And while RR wasn’t binding the victim’s genitals, as seemed to be a common thing in Shibari, she was certainly doing more than simply ‘tying them up’.

  With three more clubs on the list, he’d decided to try talking openly with the owner of the next club as a cop. Straight out.

  He parked in front of The O Club, and sighed. Jack said that the O stood for anything from ‘Orgasms’ to ‘Oh My God!’

  Great, just what he needed… a club that couldn’t even decide what its name stood for.

  He shook off his frustration and headed for the entrance.

  “Sorry. We’re closed to the public tonight, sir.” A tall slim blonde dressed in all black stepped in front of the doors, stopping him. A female doorman — doorperson?

  Kane smiled and flashed his badge. “I’d like to speak with the owner if he’s here.

  The woman’s expression didn’t change but she stepped to the side and
opened the door for him. Kane glanced at the man standing a couple feet away, also dressed all in black, who was now speaking quietly into a two-way radio.

  It was just after eight in the evening, and Kane hadn’t expected the club to be busy, but finding it closed was interesting.

  Kane stopped just inside the doors and let his eyes adjust to the dark room. Dull golden lights gleamed behind a long wooden bar that stretched the length of the room, making the various bottles of liquor sparkle and shine like a rainbow. The club was empty except for one guy behind the bar and a couple waitresses in skimpy shiny black outfits seated there, all with their heads turned in the same direction.

  A loud slap echoed through the air, followed by a slight moan, and Kane’s eyes flew over the couches and overstuffed chairs that were arranged throughout the club to the far wall.

  There, on a stage than ran the length of the back wall, was a naked woman bent over what looked like a padded sawhorse. Blond curls fell forward to obscure her features, but tension was clear in the lines of her body. Yet, as he studied the scene, the tension somehow announced itself as excitement, not fear.

  Kane watched closely as a shirtless man in leather pants, hauled back his arm and smacked the pink cheeks of her rump with a paddle of some sort. A loud crack echoed through the club, and Kane realized just how quiet it was in the dark cavernous room. Unable to stop himself, he inched closer to the stage.

  When a third person stepped out of the shadows cast by the cage at the end of the stage, Kane’s mind went blank.