Taken In

By Maggie May

50 Shades of Grey meets Film Noir in this erotic mystery about a handsome homicide detective who is at the top of his game until he investigates the murder of a man found tied to a chair and shot in an upscale neighborhood in Charleston. The prime suspect is the man's wife. The problem is--the detective ends up falling under her spell. Will she take him down with her? Find out in Taken In. Adults Only.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Maggie May
• Release date: Sep 18, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370660070

Maggie May

Besides being a Wicked Pen Writer, I have a master’s degree in English, and worked in a library for many years. Now, I'm a full-time writer. Ideally, I'd like my erotic stories to be read aloud with your favorite partner(s). That's what we do.I've written 18 erotic stories so far. These naughty tales feature threesomes, lesbian erotica, an alpha male homicide detective, a ghost, a vampire, a college student, a phone sex operator, sexy firemen, and a wide assortment of women trying to figure out how they can handle their emotions amongst all these glorious men. I love to travel, and my erotic stories take place in my favorite travel destinations: New Orleans, Charleston, and Memphis.

Book preview

Taken In

by Maggie May 2017

Copyright Maggie May 2017

Smashwords Edition 2017

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used without the written consent of the author, except for brief quotes in reviews.

Unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal.

Please respect the hard work of this author.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and places are either the product of the author's imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons (living or dead), locales, and companies is entirely coincidental.

Chapter One

Homicide Detective Jay Harrison was a man who provoked strong emotions: people either hated him or loved him. Some of his colleagues resented him because monetarily, he did not have to work. His family came from old money and he inherited a small fortune when his father passed away. He drove a silver Tesla and wore well-tailored Italian suits. Six foot two, with dark brown hair and icy blue eyes, he worked out regularly at the gym and it showed. Women found him drop-dead gorgeous.

What his fellow officers failed to acknowledge was that he was a damned good detective. Since he joined the Charleston Police Department, more killers had been caught and convicted. He had an uncanny way of getting suspects to trust and open up to him. If a woman was involved, she usually fell in love with him and incriminated herself.

None of his colleagues were aware that he had a peculiar hobby: he liked to sexually dominate women. His house had a playroom filled with leather floggers, handcuffs, and riding crops. He was not a sadist: the women he played with did so willingly and knew that if they said their safe word to him, he would stop.

As the sun began to go down, he sat in his favorite leather chair wearing black pants, a white buttoned-down shirt with cufflinks, and soft leather shoes. His Rolex watch peeked out of the cuff of his left sleeve. As he savored a tumbler of fine triple-malt scotch, he admired a naked young woman sitting across from him restrained to a chair by a pair of thick leather handcuffs.

You are so very lovely, Lily, he walked over and told her. He reached down to see if she was aroused and was pleased to find that her pussy was soaking wet. She let out a long sigh as he touched her. He knelt to taste her nether lips and she adjusted herself so that he had better access. His lips touched her silky folds and his tongue swirled around, tracing their outline, separating each petal, until he found her most sensitive core.

Ooh, I love that, she said, straining to position her mound even closer to his lips.

He could feel her starting to have an orgasm and abruptly stopped. You taste so good, Lily. I wish I could eat you up.

Master, please, she begged, Keep doing that. I was about to cum.

I know. That’s why I stopped. I have other plans for you, he said and walked over to a wall-mounted shelf filled with riding crops, floggers, and belts.

Just as he picked out a riding crop, his phone rang with the distinct 007 ring tone that signified his boss was calling. Damn, he said. I have to take this. He reached for his phone on the table beside him. Harrison here, he answered.

Hello, Jay. I hope I haven’t interrupted anything.

It can wait. What’s going on?

A man’s been shot dead in the Battery district.

He walked over to an antique bureau and turned on the light. His young submissive squinted, trying to adjust her eyes to the harsh glare. He wrote down an address and told his boss, I’ll be right there.

Who was that? Lily asked after he hung up the phone.

Honey, I’m so sorry but I have to go. It’s business.

I can wait here until you return, Master, she replied.

I don’t know how long I’ll be gone. He walked over and removed the leather handcuffs.

She asked, What’s happened?

I can’t say. Hurry up and get dressed.

Why won’t you tell me what you do for a living?

It’s better for both of us if I don’t.

Is it because you don’t trust me?

Everything’s fine, babe. Chop, chop, he clapped his hands. I need to go.

Oh, alright, she pouted and stood to gather her clothes.

***

After dropping off Lily at her house, he drove towards the Charleston Battery and approached the picturesque waterfront lined with mansions overlooking Fort Sumter. He loved this part of town and in the waning light, admired the view of tree-lined streets and historic antebellum homes. It brought back fond memories. He was 16 when he had his first sexual experience here. It was with a woman in her thirties who had a penchant for boys and handcuffs. She kept him under her spell for an entire summer before tiring of him. I wonder whatever happened to her? he asked himself and smiled. He rolled down the window and inhaled the salty air of the Atlantic Ocean. On an ordinary day when he wasn’t investigating a case, this part of town was his sanctuary. Sitting on a bench and watching the sailboats in the harbor slowed down his busy life and made his mind feel more at peace.

That evening, he had to return once again to his world of good guys and bad guys. He saw police cars and CSI vans in the front of the house where the man was killed and parked across the street from a row of grand houses—certainly not his usual crime scene. The mansion’s graceful arches and lush garden were now cordoned off—violated by crime scene tape. He stepped out of his car to see what waited for him behind the closed doors. What secrets did these wealthy people hide from the rest of their high society friends?

He stepped under the crime scene tape, climbed up to the front door, and pushed it open. The front room had expensive antique furniture and area rugs covered a perfectly polished hardwood floor. He saw a wall safe with its door open. Crime scene investigators dusted for prints and took photographs. He recognized a patrol officer and walked over to him.

Hey, Sergeant Avery. What happened here? Were you the first on the scene?

Yes, I was. There’s our dead guy, Mr. Charles Forshey, over there, he told him, pointing to a man in his mid-fifties who was tied to a chair. Detective Harrison walked over to him and the sergeant followed.

Harrison looked at the rope pattern that tied the victim’s arms and said, Hmmm. That’s interesting?

What is?

He pointed to the man’s arms. Look how intricately the rope was tied. Somebody had skills tying things up and knew what they were doing. It would have taken some time to strap him in like this.

The sergeant said, If someone was trying to tie me up against my will, I would have been flaying my arms around.

Harrison replied, It looks like he cooperated with whoever tied him up.

Maybe he knew his killer?

Possibly. He walked around the chair and saw the blood caked on the back of the victim’s head.

The sergeant told him, It looks like he was shot execution-style.

We’ll know more after the coroner examines him. Have you been able to find the gun?

Not yet, sir.

Who called it in?

"His wife. Apparently, she was on a business trip and when she arrived home, found