Handcuffed by My Ex-Officer

I was popping champagne in a VIP booth and ordering male dancers, only to get caught in a sudden police raid. The cop making the bust happened to be incredibly hot.

Aside from drinking, did any other illicit activities take place?

I shot him a defiant glare. You're my boyfriend. If I'd actually slept with someone, you'd know exactly what I look like right now, wouldn't you?

He didn't even blink, his voice ice-cold. "Miss Sloane, I have to remind you. We broke up a month ago."

Chapter 1

Back when I was relentlessly chasing after Weston, I never in a million years thought I'd be the one to end it. He covered a shift for a coworker who called out last minute, blowing off the birthday date wed planned weeks in advance. I sat alone at a two-top booth in the restaurant for three hours. Finally, I decided to go find him myself.

Carrying the custom birthday cake Id designed, I hopped into a cab. Halfway there, the driver started creeping on me.

"Nice dress, sweetheart. Shows off your figure. You got a boyfriend?" Stopped at a red light, he turned around, his cloudy eyes raking over me.

"Yeah, I do. He's a cop, actually."

The driver didn't buy it for a second. He let out a sleazy chuckle. "Is that right?"

"Damn straight." I gripped the string of the cake box. "I'm on my way to see him right now."

My stomach plummeted, but I locked my jaw and kept my face blank. I pulled out my phone and dialed Weston's number. It rang twice. Then, he sent me straight to voicemail.

Dead silence dropped over the car.

The driver scoffed. His hand, stained yellow from cheap cigarettes, reached back, aiming right for my thigh.

"Get the fuck off me!" My whole body shook. My fingers dug so hard into my purse strap they went numb, and a loud ringing filled my ears.

By the time I processed what was happening, I had already smashed the heavy cake box directly into his face.

Frosting, fruit, and crushed sponge cake exploded across the front seat. My brand-new dressthe one I bought specifically for tonightwas covered in a messy smear of cream.

"You crazy bitch" The driver cursed, turning around and swinging a hand at me.

I slammed my heavy purse into his head. "Who the fuck are you calling a bitch!" I shoved the car door open and stumbled out onto the street.

Weston's precinct was just a few blocks away. I headed in that direction. I clamped my jaw shut. My vision blurred with hot tears, and my heels slapped against the pavement in a heavy, chaotic rhythm.

My entire body couldn't stop shivering.

I pushed through the precinct doors. A uniformed officer stepped in front of me. "Ma'am, can I help you with something?"

The words jammed in my throat. I didn't know if I should ask for Weston first or report the creep who just assaulted me. While I hesitated, I turned my head and saw Weston. And the young woman sitting on the bench right in front of him, looking up into his eyes.

He handed her a steaming cup of coffee. His voice was his usual detached tone, yet laced with a rare gentleness.

"Don't worry. The suspect is in custody. We'll have an officer escort you home shortly."

She took the cup, glancing up at him timidly. "You saved me. Could could you be the one to take me home?"

Standing a few yards away, I watched Weston glance at the desk calendar. Then he looked up at the wall clock. The hour hand pointed squarely at eight. He paused.

"Sure," he said.

I froze. A sharp, stinging ache seized my chest, making it hard to draw a full breath.

"Ma'am? Do you need assistance?" The officer in front of me raised his voice, pulling me back to reality.

The two of them turned around. Weston's eyes landed on me, and his posture instantly went rigid. "Sloane?"

I took a slow, deep breath. I stared right at him and pushed the words out, syllable by syllable. "We're done, Weston."

I spun around and walked straight out the double doors.

When I hit the sidewalk, I forced myself to stop, my neck straining as I glanced back over my shoulder.

The streetlights cast cold, empty shadows on the pavement. The entrance behind me was deserted.

He hadn't even bothered to chase after me.

Chapter 2

I only went after Weston in the beginning because he was insanely hot. But once we actually got together, I realized he was always busy. The few dates we managed to squeeze in were always on-call, and more than a few times he had to ditch me halfway through dessert for a mission. I have this toxic trait: when I fall for a guy, I love buying him things.

I'd barely gifted Weston a new button-down before he marched straight to a designer boutique. He blew months of his salary on the most hideous handbag the sales associate could convince him to buy, just to give it to me. After I dragged him back to the store and forced him to return it, he turned around and dropped his debit card right into my palm.

"I don't know what you like, and I don't want to buy another gift you hate." He looked at me with total sincerity. "So just take my paycheck. Spend it on whatever you want."

Aside from being so busy we barely saw each other, Weston was genuinely good to me. He handed over every cent he earned, left his phone unlocked, and always had Advil ready before my cramps even started. Whenever he actually had a spare night to crash at my place, hed restock my entire fridge and leave breakfast on the counter before heading out the next morning.

But none of that was what I actually needed.

"I know. What you need is someone who actually shows up." When we met up, Stella sat with me while I vented. "But dropping his entire bank account on you right after making it official? Thats some boomer-level provider energy. Your Mr. MIA is pretty old school."

"He's alright." I shifted in my seat, a sudden flush hitting my cheeks. "In some areas, hes definitely not old school."

The first time Weston stayed the night at my place, he had just gotten off a raid. His silver handcuffs were still clipped to his tactical belt. I reached out to grab them, but his rough, burning palm clamped down over my fingers.

"Don't you want to try locking me to the headboard, Officer?"

Westons Adams apple bobbed hard. The corners of his eyes flushed with a dark, heavy heat, but his tone stayed dead-serious. "These are standard-issue restraints. They aren't meant for this kind of play."

I let out a soft "Oh," and slowly dragged my body against his. "Then I bought a pair of pink plastic ones. Let me use them on you. Please?"

He was always so rigid, so intensely serious, but when I dragged him into my little roleplay fantasies, he went right along with it.

Click.

He grabbed my wrists, yanking them up and pinning them flat against the mattress above my head. He leaned in, his suffocating, raw masculine scent swallowing me whole. "Miss Sloane. You stained my uniform."

"Which means right now, you are under arrest."

I didn't sleep a wink that night. The memories of the past and the nightmare of the previous evening kept crashing through my head on an endless loop. The next morning, Weston knocked on my apartment door.

The second I saw him standing there, the tight knot in my chest loosened, and I finally took a full breath. Sloane, you are so damn pathetic. I cursed myself out in my head while I waited for him to open his mouth, apologize, and beg for me back.

Instead, he shoved an unsealed cardboard box toward me. I looked inside. It was every single gift I had ever bought him.

My chin snapped up. "What the hell is this?"

"These are the gifts you gave me. Theyre expensive." He paused for two agonizing seconds. "I figured, since we're breaking up, it's best to return them."

I stared at him, totally blindsided. "So you're just accepting it? You came over here today just to wipe the slate clean?"

"You could say that." Weston let out a long, heavy exhale. "Your intentions, and your gifts you should give them to someone who is a better fit."

The last thread of my sanity snapped.

I dumped the entire box upside down. The designer watch and tie clip. The glass vase I blew myself. The Lego set I spent two straight days and nights putting together.

I grabbed every single piece and hurled it at the hardwood floor, shattering everything into jagged pieces.

I stood right in the middle of the wreckage and tilted my chin up, staring dead into his eyes. "When I move on, I won't be handing my future boyfriend your cheap leftovers."

"I'm sorry."

Chapter 3

Weston stood in the doorway, the sunlight at his back turning his silhouette into a sharp, intimidating outline. His features were cold, his gaze piercing. He was undeniably gorgeousthe only reason Id ever compromised on my "boyfriend must be on-call 24/7" rule to chase him for so long. But forced connections always turn sour.

I bit the inside of my cheek so hard I tasted blood, forcing my chin up. "Youre right. We were never a match. Mostly because you were never on my level. Get out."

He muttered one last apology, lowered his eyes, and turned to leave.

"Wait."

He stopped and looked back.

I grabbed the debit card hed left at my place and hurled it at his chest.

"Your paycheck. Take it, keep it, and get the hell out of my life."

Two months post-breakup, I met up with Stella.

She jumped back, eyes wide. "Jesus, youve lost a ton of weight. Are you on some new crash diet?"

When she heard I was still hung up on Weston, she dragged me straight to the VIP booth of the hottest club in the city and ordered two of the hottest male dancers they had to keep the drinks flowing. I downed my drink, listening to Stella run her mouth.

"That MIA-Officer was never the one for you, girl. Besides, hes not the only hot guy on the planet. Let these guys keep you company tonight. If they dont do it for you, Ill find you ten more tomorrow!"

Just as she was mid-rant, the booth door was kicked wide open.

"Police! Raid! Hands where I can see them, move to the wall, now!"

Stella threw her hands up, panic written all over her face. "Officer, I swear I didn'tWeston? Oh, shit."

I squinted through my drunken haze, focusing on the figure stepping in behind the two junior officers. God, that face was sharp. And way too familiar.

He stood six-foot-three, his uniform shirt stretched tight across broad shoulders and cinched at a narrow, rock-hard waist by a tactical belt holstering his sidearm. Below that, his long, lean legs were encased in crisp, tailored uniform trousers. His eyes cut through the room, landing on me with icy detachment.

"Are you certain there was no illicit activity beyond drinking?"

The alcohol hit my brain, turning my defiance into a blunt weapon. I tilted my head, looking him dead in the eye. "Youre my boyfriend. If Id actually slept with someone, youd know exactly what I looked like right now, wouldn't you?"

He didnt flinch. His voice remained cool, clinical. "Miss Sloane, I have to remind you. We broke up a month ago."

"Right. My mistake." My temples throbbed, the alcohol burning hot in my veins. I bared my teeth in a sharp, mocking smile.

"Fine, Ill confess. I did something illicit. What are you going to do about it, Officer?"

The air in the room dropped ten degrees.

Westons eyes narrowed, a flash of something lethal crossing his face.

He surged forward before I could blink.

The cold, heavy weight of steel snapped around my wrists. He clamped the cuffs on with efficient, practiced precision, his tone as frozen as ever. "Youre coming to the station. Well see what you have to say in the interrogation room."

He paused, leaning in until his lips were mere millimeters from my ear. "Isnt this what youve always wanted? Tonight, Im indulging you."

His voice was cold and thin, but the breath ghosting against my ear was scorching hot. Heat flooded my face instantly.

His colleagues mumbled something behind him and scrambled out to clear the rest of the club.

Weston flicked his gaze toward Stella. She immediately blurted out, "Im clean! I have a boyfriend!"

I glared at her. Traitor.

Chapter 4

She shot me a look that said: Youre on your own.

I stayed silent as I climbed into the squad car with Weston.

He was the one to break the silence. "Even if you're looking for someone new, this isn't the place to find him." His tone was calm. It was that flat, detached calmness that instantly set my nerves on fire.

I whipped my head around to glare at him. "And what else would you have me do? At least those guys actually know how to sing, drink, and make me feel good. Unlike a certain someone who left me sitting alone in a restaurant for three hours on my birthday, or decided to escort some other girl home right when I was being harassed by a creep and needed his help!"

Westons entire body went rigid. He looked at me, his voice sharpening into something stern. "Harassed by a creep? Was that the night? Where did it happen?"

"Oh, come on, Officer. With your god-like investigative skills, you haven't figured that out yet?" I spat the words out, dripping with sarcasm. "Since you had plenty of time to play chauffeur for that girl"

"I'm sorry." He said it.

This apology was heavier, landing with a weight the one from when he returned my things never had. There was a palpable edge of pain in his voice, and it caught me off guard, leaving me speechless.

The silence inside the car stretched, thick and suffocating, as the memories of that night came flooding back in a tidal wave. Along with them, the raw, aching hurt that Id tried so hard to bury. I looked away, retreating into silence.

The rigid pressure around my wrists vanished as Weston unlocked the handcuffs. Unlike the cheap toys Id bought, these were heavy-duty, and theyd already scraped my skin raw. I tucked my hands into my sleeves, my voice icy. "What is this, Officer? Giving a suspect special treatment? Feeling a little guilty?"

"Like you said. I know exactly what you look like if youd actually done something like that." He spoke, his Adams apple bobbing hard. He looked away, his movements restless, and jerked his loosened tie away from his neck. "So I know you didn't."

I couldn't stop myself.

I reached out, grabbed his collar, and yanked him back so he had to look me in the eye.

"If you knew that, then why the hell did you cuff me?"

Our eyes locked. Weston held my gaze with blunt, terrifying honesty. "Regardless of the facts, you admitted to illegal activity in public. Protocol dictates you get brought in for questioning."

He paused. "Also. Don't ever come to a place like this again."

The fight drained out of me, leaving nothing but a hollow, bitter feeling. I let go of his collar and gave a flat, curt nod, not saying another word.

I hadn't actually done anything illicit, but the club wasn't exactly a clean place. Even so, the standard questioning process at the precinct was mandatory. After I signed the paperwork, Weston moved to walk me out, but I stopped him.

"This is far enough." My voice was hollow. I couldn't help but add one last jab, "Besides, you're a busy man, Weston. I didn't want to inconvenience you when we were actually dating, let alone now that we're finished."

Weston pressed his lips into a thin line. "My apologies."

He kept apologizing, and my defenses, which had been hanging by a thread, finally shattered.

"Shut up! If you say you're sorry one more time, I'm going to assault an officer!"

"I"

Chapter 5

He read my expression, smartly snapping his mouth shut before pivoting. "We're wrapping up the raid today. I don't need to stay for the cleanup. I'll take you home."

So he actually had free time today. The second that registered, a pathetic thought hijacked my brain: If only today was my birthday. Sloane, you're officially screwed.

I was just opening my mouth to reply when a rookie cop popped his head around the doorframe. "Captain, she's back with more stuff for you!"

Before the words even settled, a familiar figure stepped through the door. It was the girl from the club. She was holding a perfectly wrapped cookie tin tied with a silk ribbon. Her smile was sickeningly sweet.

"Officer Weston, I baked these to thank you for saving me I promise they're better than the last batch! Try one"

Ice water drenched my spine. My pathetic little birthday fantasy shattered. No, I was the massive joke here.

I wasn't about to stick around and listen to Weston accept her gift like last time. My knuckles turned white around my purse strap. I spun on my heel and bolted out the door without a backward glance, hailing the first cab I saw.

"With a face like Houdini's, of course he's got a fan club. Plus, with how things went down the other night, he's basically her knight in shining armor." Stella lounged on my couch, crunching on a fistful of potato chips. "But Sloane, you're a total catch too. Who else hits financial freedom before even finishing college? You're gorgeous, your bank account is stacked, and guys are lining up. If this one's a bust, on to the next."

"It's not the same." I sniffled. "Weston isn't like the others."

"Other than being hotter, having a better body, and pulling off the whole uniform kink thing? What's the difference?"

I opened my mouth, but the memory already had me by the throat.

Out of every guy I'd ever dated, Weston was the most rock-solid. Call it high maintenance if you're being nice; call it a full-blown princess complex if you're honest. My exes had all hit their breaking point and bailed. But not Weston.

Once, my period cramps were tearing me apart. My hair was greasy, I was freezing, in too much pain to move, yet I demanded a blowout.

I threw a massive tantrum, sweeping everything off the nightstand onto the floor in a crash of glass and plastic.

Weston didn't even flinch. He just quietly grabbed a broom and swept up the mess. Then he ran the hot water in the bathroom sink, perfectly adjusting the temperature and pulling up a stool so I could lean back while he washed my hair.

The painkillers hadn't kicked in yet. A cold, sharp ache twisted in my lower belly. I dug my nails into his forearm and bitched, "Are you doing this on purpose? Washing my hair when I'm freezing just to make it hurt worse?"

Total psychotic behavior.

He didn't react. He just grabbed the hair dryer and patted the spot right in front of him. "Sit. Let me dry it."

The hot air chased away the dampness. His fingerswarm and slightly wetkept brushing against the shell of my ear and down my jawline. My pulse kicked up a notch, my thoughts drifting into dangerous territory.

The dryer clicked off. Silence crashed down on the bedroom. I reached up and curled my fingers around his wrist. "Officer Weston when my period is over, will you still be doing the blowing?"

"Sure."

I locked onto his eyes, dark and deep as a midnight lake. "I wasn't talking about my hair."

A dark flush crept up Weston's ears in real time. "You are literally" His Adam's apple bobbed hard.

He leaned down and crashed his mouth over mine.

"Yeah. I will."

"Earth to Sloane." Stella's hand waved frantically in front of my face, snapping me out of the flashback. She shot me a glare. "That's the hundredth time this week. I bring up Houdini, and two seconds later you're completely zoned out"

She didn't get to finish.

My phone erupted on the coffee table. It was the custom ringtone I had set up and still hadn't changed.

Weston.

Chapter 6

Barely three days later, and I was standing in Weston's precinct. Again.

"Sloane, please confirm. This is the individual who harassed you in the vehicle the other night, correct?"

His strictly professional tone stalled me for exactly one second before the actual words registered. I turned my head.

A pair of familiar, cloudy eyes set into a face like tree bark stared back at me, a sickening mix of begging and threatening. "It's a misunderstanding, a total misunderstanding"

I didn't hesitate. "That's him. And it wasn't just verbal. He tried to put his hands on me."

Weston's gaze dropped a few degrees below freezing.

"I took a cab around here, to take care of something. Barely a few minutes into the ride, he started making comments about my body in this dress, asking if I had a boyfriend."

The driver squawked. "Is it a crime to give a compliment now?"

Weston's head snapped toward him. One lethal look, and the driver snapped his mouth shut, shrinking back into his chair.

When Weston turned back to me, the ice in his eyes hadn't thawed. He looked like a drawn blade. The sheer lethal heat of it stole my breath for two seconds before I forced myself to continue. "I told him I had a boyfriend and called him. But he must have been busy, because he hung up on me. This guy took that as a green light. He reached over to grab my thigh. I had a cake in my hands, so I smashed it into his face."

With every word I spoke, the sharp line of Weston's jaw tightened. His knuckles bleached white against the file folder, the heavy, suffocating tension radiating off him swallowing the room.

Seeing his rigid posture, the tight knot in my chest loosened a fraction. I tilted my head, throwing out a deliberate taunt. "I assume that doesn't count as starting a riot, Officer Weston?"

His dark eyelashes flickered. "Self-defense." He snapped the file shut. "Your statement matches the dashcam audio and the street surveillance. We'll be pressing full charges. Thank you for your cooperation."

Jace escorted me out, stopping me in the hallway. "Sloane, the Captain asked if you could wait for him a minute."

I raised an eyebrow at him. "Wait for what? I gave my statement. The rest is your job, isn't it?"

"It's not about the case." Jace rushed the words out, sounding frantic. "What happened the other night it was actually my fault. My mom was rushed to the ER, and the Captain took my shift. Then an emergency call came in. He actually got hurt during the raid"

A female voice sliced into the conversation, cutting him off.

"Jace, is Officer Weston busy?"

I turned. Standing barely a foot away, my eyes locked with the girl from the club. She offered a perfectly composed, sickeningly sweet smile. "Oh, it's you. Officer Weston's ex-girlfriend."

I stared at her. If I couldn't clock the blatant hostility radiating off her, I would have wasted my entire twenties. "Can I help you?"

"I heard everything the other night. Officer Weston saved my life, and I'm not going to stand by and watch some entitled princess give him a hard time." She tipped her chin up, practically buzzing with self-righteousness. "You were the one who dumped him. Don't tell me you regret it now and came crawling back?"

A harsh laugh ripped out of my throat. "I'm sorry, who the hell are you? Let's get one thing straight. Your precious Officer Weston called me in today. And whether we're broken up or getting back together, that is strictly between me and Weston. I sure as hell don't need a peanut gallery."

"He would never get back together with you. Instead of a high-maintenance drama queen, he needs an understanding girlfriend who actually supports his career."

"Oh."

Chapter 7

I kept my face blank. "Don't tell me you're talking about yourself?"

She tipped her chin up, looking me up and down before letting out a laugh. "Word is, he only agreed to date you because you wouldn't stop throwing yourself at him. He literally had no choice."

Her mocking stare was the final straw.

I stepped forward without a second thought, grabbed a fistful of her perfectly styled hair, and slapped her hard across the face. Twice.

It happened so fast Jace couldn't even react. "Sloane!"

The glass door behind me swung open. Weston stepped out, his uniform crisp and imposing.

The girl spotted him instantly. Her eyes turned red on command, tears spilling down her cheeks. "Sloane, how could you? Assaulting someone right in front of a police officer? You really think you're above the law?"

Total playing-the-victim bullshit.

My blood was boiling. I was ready to give her another round, but Weston closed the distance in three long strides, his hand locking like a vice around my wrist.

"Sloane." His voice was low. "Cool it. We're in a precinct."

I whipped my head around to look at him. He was staring down at me, a dark, complicated storm brewing in his eyes.

All the grievance and rage I'd been swallowing clawed its way up my throat. "Is that what you tell people? That I was some stage-five clinger who wouldn't leave you alone, and you only dated me because you had no choice?"

The second the words left my mouth, scalding tears smashed against the back of my hand. Even my breathing was shaking. Before this bitch showed up to run her mouth, I had actually been thrilled. I thought Weston asking Jace to make me wait meant he was going to beg for me back