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in a wrist manipulation technique she’d practiced with a cop named Wayne.
Swiveling quickly, she enveloped his elbow with her other hand and jammed it
downward. He grunted, and she smiled as she restrained him, his body bent at
the waist, his arm twisted awkwardly behind his back.
    “Nice,”
he murmured, the admiration in his voice mixed with surprise.
    And
then it was her turn to be surprised, because before she had time to get cocky,
he jerked her forward. His fingers snared her wrist, and he stepped behind her,
wrenching her arm up her back hard enough to make her wince, but not enough to
be painful. Much.
    Damn,
he was strong. But then, she’d seen him lift the back end of her truck up and
out of the mud in which it had become mired. Well, she’d seen it through
Cheech’s eyes, but still…
    Derek
held her immobile with one hand, wrapped his other muscular arm around her neck
and pressed his chest to her back. Cramps tweaked her biceps, and her throat
felt a little tight as it funneled her rapid breaths through it.
    “There’s
always a countermove,” he said, his voice rumbling against her ear in a rich,
seductive tone that struck her as sounding practiced. He rocked his pelvis
against her, driving his erection into her hip. Dropping his arm from her
throat, he let his hand drift down her chest, over her breast, to her waist.
    Message
received.
    He
wanted her, would be willing and able should she want—or need—him soon. Warmth
oozed across her skin, and when he released her, she spun away before her body
could react further to his arousal. She didn’t require sex for a couple
more hours, but she came equipped with a self-preservation switch that
activated her libido in the presence of an aroused male, effectively forcing
her to accept all mating opportunities that presented themselves.
    Had
she been in the room with Tom, she’d welcome the chance to take him down to the
floor, but sleeping with Derek now would only intensify the tension between him
and Tom, something she didn’t want to deal with yet.
    “Wow.”
She wiped her palms on her shorts simply because she needed to do something
with them. “That was impressive.”
    Extra-impressive,
given that Wayne assured her the hold she’d used was difficult to break. Wayne,
who had held her often enough. Who had definitely done his civic duty to
protect and serve her several times during one of her spring fevers. Who had
been the one to warn her when the warrants for her arrest had suddenly been
reinstated.
    “Don’t
sell yourself short. You know your stuff.” Folding his arms across his broad
chest, Derek watched her with dark eyes that had gone nearly black with desire.
“Can you break out of restraints?”
    Heart
still doing double-time, she jammed her hands on her hips. “I’ve been asked a
lot of strange questions in my life, but Derek, you’re going to some new places
here.”
    He
grinned. “I could go to more new places, if you’d like.”
    “Men,”
she huffed, but her drama lacked conviction. At this time of year, she was
receptive to all flirtations.
    “I’m
only looking out for you.” He moved to his dresser, took a pair of handcuffs
from the top drawer. “Let me show you something.”
    “Ooh!
Cool! I’ve been cuffed before.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “Why do you have
handcuffs?”
    “Personal
reasons.”
    “Whatever
floats your boat, I guess.”
    “Hold
out your hands.” In two fluid strides, he closed the distance between them.
“Why have you been cuffed? Or do I want to know?”
    “Personal
reasons.” She winked, hoping he’d buy the lie. The truth, that she’d been arrested
more than once, was something she liked to keep to herself.
    “Hold
your hands like this”—he turned her wrists—“it’ll make the cuffs looser once
they’re on.” He snapped them into place.
    “Am I
interrupting something?”
    Tom’s
voice, calm and cool, floated into the room. Kira grinned and looked over her
shoulder at him.