Hey! This is the first chapter of my new story, No Handcuffs Allowed! It's a sequel of sorts, picking up at Kayla and Deeks's wedding, though you won't have to read 'Promises' to enjoy it.

Synopsis: Serial bachelorette and LAPD detective Jocelyn Hart becomes infatuated with G. Callen when he turns her down because of his 'no handcuffs' rule. Through harmless flirtation, innocent advances, and a little bit of intrigue, the two begin to realize…they may be meant for each other after all. Loose sequel to 'Promises'.

The wedding reception was in full swing. Sunset had passed, leaving an ambient orange glow along the horizon. Inside the large Italian villa, the small group of guests celebrated the marriage of Mr. and Mrs. Marty Deeks.

For Jocelyn Hart, this was a celebration long overdue; a marriage she had a large personal stake in.

There was drama, a heavy dose of conflict, and true love laced through the happy couple's story, and Jocelyn had witnessed it all. She reveled in her triumph.

"Hart!" Deeks called across the room. "Dance with me, darling."

Jocelyn laid a hand on her chest, mockingly scandalized. "But what will your wife think?"

The detective twirled her before pulling her close. "I won't tell her if you won't."

"Even in marriage, you are still a scoundrel."

"What can I say? Every cure takes time." Deeks swept her around once again. "When are you going to find your cure?"

She threw back her head in laughter. "I doubt monogamy is in the cards for me; he'd have to be quite a man."

"So you amuse yourself with matchmaking."

"We both know my friendship with Kayla is more than just amusement."

The detective's smile faded for a fraction of a second as he lapsed into seriousness. "You saved her."

"We both did," Jocelyn replied modestly. "You built her up, I just pointed her in the right direction. She needed a cheerleader."

"Your friendship means a lot to her-and to me. I guess it's a good thing you never slept with me."

Jocelyn threw her head back into a full-bodied laugh. "I was getting around to you, I just met Kayla first.

I think I even called you the "hot blonde guy" during our first conversation. Still," she shrugged, "sisters before misters."

It was Marty's turn to chuckle. "So glad you had a moral compass back then."

She hip-checked him. "I'm getting better! I even promised Kayla I wouldn't sleep with any of your coworkers at the wedding."

"That's very big of you," he smiled condescendingly.

"Shut up. I don't sleep around as often as I used to. I've taken up running again, thanks to your wife, and I've become addicted to a number of TV shows. Besides, I have real friends to hang out with now, and they're so much more fun than the fake posse I used to run with."

"I'm glad; Andy needs an aunt to look up to, and it's better if you aren't a whore."

Jocelyn gasped dramatically. "I prefer the term semi-reformed slut."

"How indelicate of me," he teased.

The song blended into a new one, and Jocelyn embraced her friend. "Now stop wasting your time with me and dance with your woman!"

She slipped to the edge of the dance floor, watching Deeks capture Kayla once more. The other guests had taken to the floor: Andy with Claire, Callen with Hetty, Sam with Kensi, Eric with Nell. Everyone was laughing and chatting like the old friends they were. Despite her natural confidence, Jocelyn was quickly feeling like the odd man out. She retrieved a glass of champagne and contented herself to people watch.

Observation was something she was good at. Years in the society circuit had trained her to recognize subtle body cues, dissect clothing choices, and form opinions based on her deductions.

Of course, one didn't need to be trained in observation to see that the two technical analysts were smitten. Despite the lively music, Eric and Nell moved close to each other, touching more than necessary. Nell, spritely as she was, clearly had the upper hand. She teased and flirted without giving too much. This behavior had Eric wrapped around her little finger, following her movements like a lost puppy dog.

She could tell Sam was a married man, despite the lack of wedding ring. He held Kensi with familiarity but maintained gentlemanly hand placement. Kensi was enjoying herself, but Jocelyn knew from experience that she was probably stinging a bit. It was never easy attending a close friend's wedding while unattached yourself-especially someone as close as your partner.

The only unattached man in the room danced with his small boss. Jocelyn couldn't help but laugh at the sight. Hetty barely passed Callen's belly button, but held her dignity just the same. He grinned down at her, fondness coloring his ice blue eyes. Even as he spun her, she smiled, ribbing him about something. There seemed to be a mother to son undercurrent running between them, something Jocelyn appreciated.

Callen was definitely good looking. He wasn't overly fit; he moved with neither insecurity or overconfidence, both of which she'd seen far too often in her fellow officers. Indeed, an easy smile graced his lips, complementing his agreeable face. He was clean-shaven for the event and buzzed blonde hair topped his head. He would blend into the background of any event, be it a society event or a crowded street. She supposed that was ideal for his line of work, where anonymity was key, but as he turned his smile on her, she realized he would be branded on her mind forever.

"Kayla!" she called to her friend.

The bride came gliding over to her, beaming. "Yes, sweetie?"

Jocelyn wrapped an arm around Kayla, pointing her discreetly at Agent Callen. "Are you sure he isn't my thank you gift?"

Her impertinence earned her an incredulous look from Kayla. "You promised, Joce. No trysts with Marty's coworkers."

"It's just one night," she pleaded impishly.

"No," Kayla replied with the imperative air of a mother. "I can't come back from my honeymoon to find you've fucked Marty's career."

"I just want to fuck that guy over there."

"Keep it in your pants until Marty and I get back. At least then you'll be supervised."

"I've spent the past eight years supervising you kids. The least you could do is give me a night of fun."

"Drink some champagne, dance to the music, and go to bed-alone."

Jocelyn stuck out her tongue. "Fine, mother."

Kayla grinned, kissing her friend's cheek. "Don't get into too much trouble while I'm gone."

Her gaze collided with the blue-eyed agent across the room once more. "I'll try."

The maid of honor was, without a doubt, the most beautiful woman Agent G. Callen had ever seen.

Deeks warned she was a man-eater, but one glance at her and he didn't care. She'd hidden behind her bulky camera during the ceremony, but now that the sun had set, she looked like the female projection of the moon. Thick dark hair tumbled down to the middle of her back, styled to effortless perfection.

High cheekbones created alluring contours across her fair face, drawing attention to full lips and intense eyes. Somewhere between green and blue, they sparked with an intelligence not usually found in someone so attractive.

She danced around the reception, snapping photos. The idea of a camera pointed in his direction set him on edge, especially when that camera was in the hands of a civilian. Hetty didn't seem particularly worried, so he let it slide. Any woman outside the immediate circle of OSP agents who managed to get on this little vacation had to be somewhat trustworthy.

The bride and groom danced their last dance and disappeared to the honeymoon suite after a round of lighthearted teasing. The maid of honor headed to the terrace; Callen found himself tempted to follow.

The Italian night was breathtaking. The stars burned bright above their remote retreat, once the home to some arms dealers who managed to tick off NCIS. It was now in the custody of the federal government, and a makeshift wedding destination. Barely an hour ago, the adobo walls glowed orange in the sunset. The patio wall still held some warmth from the sun; she sat on the edge, looking up at the stars. Jocelyn was so busy tracing constellations, she didn't notice the agent standing next to her.

"You definitely don't get stars like this out in LA."

"Mmm," she responded absentmindedly.

Silence fell; he tried again. "I'm Callen."

"I know." The enchantress finally lowered her chin to look at him properly. Up close, those hybrid eyes were even more unnerving. "I'm Jocelyn Hart."

The name suited her.

"How do you know the bride?" His small talk was rusty, but champagne made everyone more relaxed.

Jocelyn smiled, remembering her and Kayla's meeting at the Police Academy. "Kayla and I used to work together."

"How long have you known Deeks?"

"I've known Deeks nearly as long as Kayla."

Callen's curiosity was piqued, considering Kayla's friendship with Jocelyn was over eight years old. "Wow. What was he like back then?"

"He was an incorrigible ass. He slept with just about anyone and didn't stay with one girl for more than a couple of days."

"Sounds a bit like Deeks' description of you."

Jocelyn laughed. "He called me an incorrigible ass?"

"No, he said you were a bit...loose."

"Delicately put," she allowed, "but correct. Existential crisis played a big part, and I haven't managed to shake that reputation since."

"Did you two ever..."

"Hell, no!" Jocelyn objected vehemently. A chuckle escaped her lips and Callen joined in. "Call me old fashioned, but I don't sleep with guys my best friend is pining after."

"That's very big of you," he condescended, though his eyes teased her. "I guess you're a pretty good friend."

She bit her lip enticingly. "I'm wishing I wasn't."

"Oh?" His eyebrows went up with interest.

"Kayla made me promise I wouldn't sleep with you. Something about wanting her husband to have a job when they get back."

Callen laughed heartily, his chest rumbling with the humor. "Did she now? It's nice to know the happy couple is on the same page."

"Hmm," she agreed. "They didn't used to be. I nearly lost my mind getting them together. Tonight is a time to celebrate, and my hands are tied."

He'd like to see her tied up.

"Well, while we're celebrating, would you like some more champagne?"

A little flirting seemed harmless enough. She smiled invitingly, running a hand down his forearm almost—but not quite—accidentally. "Sounds perfect."

A bottle and champagne flutes appeared from behind his back; Jocelyn realized he'd brought it with him.

"So do you take photos for a living?" he gestured to the camera at her hip.

"Oh, this?" She turned the camera in her hand as if she'd forgotten it was there. "No. I just love to record life. A friend told me once that life's too short. We need to capture every moment."

"No offense to your friend," Callen replied slowly with a small step closer, "but some moments are better experienced rather than recorded."

His words held a double meaning she desperately wanted to take advantage of. "I see your point." Her voice grew husky. "Some moments are better kept private."

The sea breeze tousled her dark hair; Callen gave into the urge to tuck a curl behind her ear. The motion aligned their faces; his fingers brushed her cheek intimately.

"That's something I struggle with," she admitted. "I want to remember every moment, every touch, every relationship. I want to have photos of people I love and burn one of people I hate."

Her eyes swirled from blue to green, sparking with hidden passion. Callen felt it radiating off of her; it pulled him even closer.

"You are unlike any woman I have ever met," he admitted, in awe of her.

"I'm more interested in you," she replied honestly. "Special agent extraordinaire Callen." Her eyebrows pulling together in thought. "Is Callen your first or last name?"

"Last name. Most people call me G."

Jocelyn stifled a giggle. "As in gee whiz?"

"As in the seventh letter of the alphabet," he clarified.

This time, Jocelyn did laugh. "Your parents named you after a letter?"

"I just don't have a full name."

His tone indicated a hidden frustration; Jocelyn hesitated before continuing. "I'm sure you answer this a lot, but how does that even happen?"

"My parents died before I was old enough to remember it."

That killed the mood, Jocelyn thought wryly.

"Well, if you don't have a name, I'll just have to give you one."

This is new, Callen mused. He quirked a brow in challenge. "You can try."

Jocelyn stepped back, far enough to look him up and down. He felt naked under her gaze, but she only bit her lip in thought. "You don't look like a George or Greg."

He didn't feel like a George or Greg.

"Gavin?" she tried. "Garrett?"

Callen shook his head.

Silence fell. Jocelyn continued to chew her lip, tempting Callen more than she realized. She released it with a triumphant gasp.

"I've got it!" she exclaimed. "Gabriel. Your name is Gabriel."

"Right," he laughed sardonically. "I'm an angel with a SIG-Sauer P229."

"I don't know," Jocelyn teased, "I can imagine you looked like a perfect cherub as a baby, all golden hair and blue eyes. I think it fits you."

"Gabriel Callen," he tried it out. It had a nice ring to it, if a bit formal. He'd never really thought about what he was like as a baby. No one lived to tell the tale and he preferred not to think about his parents, long gone.

"However," Jocelyn interrupted his thoughts, "I bet your parents called you Gabe."

"That sounds better."

Relaxing, Jocelyn offered him a supportive smile. "Do I have leave to call you Gabe?"

Their friends may be married, but neither party imagined they would meet again after this night.

"Why not?"

She offered him a pleased smile.

"From what I hear, you're no angel either."

"Oh?" Her lips curved wickedly.

"Deeks told me to steer clear." Even as he spoke, Callen took a step forward.

Damn that detective, Jocelyn cursed inwardly. Didn't he know that information like that was practically an open invitation?

She would like nothing more than to indulge his imagination; the energy emanating from the agent was intoxicating. Jocelyn had never been one to resist raw attraction, and a pull this strong didn't come around every day. Loyalty was important to Jocelyn, but would it really hurt to indulge a little?

"Well," she breathed, placing her hands on his chest, "Forbidden fruit always has the sweetest nectar."

Callen's eyes flickered to her lips, pink and inviting. She liked them in anticipation, fully aware of his intent.

"I wonder what it tastes like," he whispered darkly. Seduction didn't always come easy to him, but everything seemed to flow in her presence.

Jocelyn inhaled sharply. The breath pulled him in; dragging his lips down to hers.

Their bodies took bare moments to become acquainted. The chemistry of touch made it impossible to pull away.

One night stands were always Jocelyn's forte, but she hand't realized just out of practice she was. No one got the upper hand on her, ever. Grasping his shirt tightly, she deepened the kiss. He responded readily, tangling his hands through her dark hair. Need for control surged within her, and she mastered it.

He was kissing a complete stranger. Agent G. Callen was kissing a woman he barely knew-and he didn't want to stop. It had been a very long time since he'd let any woman this close. He was always careful, always cautious.

He never took the same road to work twice. Routine didn't exist for him; it was too easy to track. Too many friends fell into that trap and died. Even more fell for the classic femme fatale. It was an inescapable hazard of espionage.

So why was he kissing this beautiful enchantress after only minutes of conversation?

Never before had he met a woman so malleable to his body. She kissed like Aphrodite herself, with a heat he'd never tasted. It would be easy to sit her up on a hip-high pillar and take full advantage of her, but it was clear she took no prisoners.

A groan erupted from her throat—or was it his— betraying just how much power she had over him. She smiled into the kiss, nipping at his lower lip. In an attempt to regain control, he moved to her neck, placing kisses along the alabaster notch at her collarbone.

Chemistry sizzled between them, wicked thoughts raced through Callen's mind. How could he possibly stop now? Hands made their way to her hips; he pressed her as close as humanly possible. Clothes seemed unbearably constricting; his coat fell to the ground, the result of her nimble fingers.

Tomorrow, he would blame it on the moonlight, but tonight, he needed this more than air in his lungs...until he couldn't breathe.

"Fuck," he swore, breaking away. Forehead to forehead, dared not pull away. "How good of a friend are you?"

Jocelyn laughed wryly. "Unfortunately, I'm the most badass friend ever."

"Is that good or bad?" he panted.

"Mmm," Jocelyn mumbled against his lips. "Good for her, bad for you."

"That's terrible."

"It really is."

An idea dawned in Callen's mind, even as he kissed her jaw. "What if..."

"Yes?" Jocelyn asked, a little too eagerly.

"What if we get a drink once we're back stateside. After the honeymoon, of course."

"Bar or club?"

"Bar."

"Done."

They sealed the deal with a searing kiss.

"Damn," she breathed as she clung to him. "One of us really need to walk away, or I'll be breaking more than a few promises."

He nodded, darkened eyes gazing into hers possessively. Large hands slid to hold hers. "Until California?"

"Until California."

The agent turned and walked back inside the building, leaving Jocelyn wanting more...and cursing her loyalties.

Callen turned the corner into the hallway to find Sam smirking at him.

"Enjoying yourself, G?"

"Shut up," he retorted, too distracted to find a witty remark. His mind was still muddled by the dark-haired beauty on the patio.

Hetty looked down on the couple's not-so-private display of affection from her second-story suite.

"Oh, no," her friend and former coworker, Claire, chided the director. "I know that look."

"What look?" the small woman looked up innocently.

"That is the look of incurable meddler."

"I have no idea of what you speak."

Claire raised a skeptical eyebrow. A former NCIS psychiatrist, she knew better.

Hetty sighed, giving in. "Sometimes, this old woman gets tired of plotting terrorists' fate. Sometimes, it's nice to bring people together. Besides, who are you judging? You were the enabler for Deeks and Kayla."

"One and done. Don't go sticking your nose into other people's business. It messes with the status quo."

"Mr. Callen is like a son to me. Shouldn't I want his happiness?"

"You should leave him be."

"Pish," Hetty waved her off. "This is just a bit of harmless fun. Nothing to worry about."