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“I’d planned to sleep here and drive home in the morning. I don’t want to put anyone out.” If one of the girls left at night, they needed an escort home so someone didn’t follow them and hurt them. Leaving the next morning wasn’t considered a safety issue, for some reason.

“Not a problem,” Khan assured her. “The prospect lives in the apartment complex, and he’s due for early sentry duty so he’s leaving at two. I’ll find you before he goes.”

* * * *

The next afternoon, Genie got a text from Dev telling her to wear skimpy short-shorts and a tank top without a bra, and that if she wasn’t up for role play she should let him know before he arrived at six to pick her up.

She was on simmer all evening, wondering what he’d planned. She hadn’t bothered packing a vibrator because she’d figured she could just go to the clubhouse anytime she was horny.

Right on time, to the minute, the knock on the door finally came. Heavy, like you’d expect from the cops. No doorbell, just the knock. She answered, and Dev was in a suit and tie, and he turned her around the second the door was opened, manhandling her while he kicked the door closed with his foot. He fastened handcuffs onto her wrists, and heat pulsed into her clit.

“Federal agent, ma’am. We have a warrant for your arrest.” He turned her around and swept a cape around her that would cover her outfit and her cuffed hands. He grasped her arm, and asked, “Anything we need to do to secure your home, Miss Hughes?”

“The key locks the deadbolt, Agent Patel. Hit arm on the alarm system, and then you have thirty seconds to open the door and get it closed again.”

She stood just outside her door while he secured it, and then he quickly marched her to his SUV. He put her into the backseat, complete with making sure she didn’t hit her head, and then got in and started the car.

“Why am I under arrest?” she asked once they were underway.

“You tell me, Miss Hughes.”

“Oh no, I know my rights, you have to tell me why I’m under arrest.”

“I do, and we will get to that once we have you in interview, but you must be processed, first.”

The interior of the car smelled of the spicy cardamom scent of Dev’s lust, and the fiery cinnamon scent of Genie’s arousal.

Processed. That word. Would there be a cavity search?

She expected he’d take her to his house, but he drove her to a home a short distance away, and the garage door rose when he neared it. He pulled in, turned the car off, and the garage door went back down. It was a three-car garage, and Dev’s vehicle was the only one in it. A jail cell took up half of the farthest bay, and she eyed it — and the bed inside — with equal parts excitement and trepidation.

His last text to her, five minutes before he’d picked her up, had been thatredandyellowsafewords were in play, and to be sure to use the latter if she just needed reassurance everything was okay.

Without that text, she might’ve needed reassurance, but sending it had been perfect. He’d really gone all out for this, because what were the odds he happened to know someone with a jail cell in their garage?

On second thought, maybe she didn’t want to know the answer to that.

Rather than walk her to the cell, he took her to one of the round, steel supports that held the ceiling up. He unlocked onehandcuff, moved the cuffed hand around the support, and then cuffed her other wrist once again — essentially locking her to the steel support. He lifted the cuffs and hooked them on something. She tried freeing her hands so she could lower them, but couldn’t figure out the mechanism.

The cape came off and was tossed behind them somewhere, and then his hands ran through her hair, all over her scalp, and her breathing hitched when she realized this was the first part of her beingprocessedinto the jail. He looked in both ears, came around front of her, looked in her nostrils, and then had her open her mouth. He moved her lips around so he could check to be certain she wasn’t hiding something between her gums and lips, or gums and cheeks, and ordered her to lift her tongue so he could see below it.

And then his hands patted her down, spending a whole lot of time feeling her boobs and making a point of searching under and between them, which of course sent frissons of lust — his and hers — scenting the garage. Her nipples were fondled and pinched, and he finally moved down, his fingers probing inside the waistband of her short-shorts, then around the bottom of them, where an inch of the bottom of her ass showed beneath the frayed fabric.

His hands remained on the outside and backs of her legs while he moved down her legs, though with shorts on, she wasn’t certain that was at all necessary.

She didn’t mind his hands coming back up on the insides of her legs even a tiny bit, though. No way was she going to complain.

“Agent Patel,” she managed to say without sounding too breathy. “Surely there’s something we can do to work this out.”

“You trying to bribe a federal agent, Miss Hughes?” His hands reached her pussy, felt all around it, and he stood and moved back behind her.

“Bribe? Absolutely not.”

“Good, because you aren’t in a position to be negotiating.”

He leaned in and whispered into her ear. “All the power lies with me. No cameras. No partner. It’s time for your cavity search now, Miss Hughes, and I have something longer than my fingers, so I can make sure to search deep,deepinside.”

It didn’t take him long to unfasten and unzip the tiny shorts. He made a show of checking all around the thong before it landed on the floor at her feet with her shorts.