Page 18 of A Shot in the Dark
“No,” I vow, presenting my wrists for his belt. He lashes them together with a speed that does not fail to impress.
“Good grrrl,” he snarls, his nearly animal growl rumbling through me and softening something low in my belly. “Remember your choices?”
I think back to what I found in his pockets earlier and pick my poison, my body heating in anticipation. And then Boots knocks my feet out from under me, and I drop to the bed like a rock with him on top of me, a flurry of red flags filling my mind’s eye as I realize that the girl I don’t fully recognize letting a strange man do things to her?
She’sdefinitelyme.
I just don’t understandwhy.
Chapter 7
Inearly have to pour myself into the backseat of the car an hour later. “I think I might be sick,” I complain, my body flushed. Everything feels strange, wobbly, and the most I’ve achieved today is getting my bra to match my panties and my top to match my skirt. I take comfort in that: as crazy as things are, at least it will never change.
“You’re not sick,” Boots says like he’s some doctor. “It’s the heat.” He cranes his neck to look out the windshield at the sky. “It’s only temporary.”
I give a sidelong glance out the window as the world rockets by. “It’s only like seventy degrees out there…”
“Not what I mean, princess…”
“I never know what you mean.”
“I’m just a grunt—it’s not my place to educate you.”
“Oh, I think you’ve been quite educational,” I laugh. “Why not tell me? What is ‘your place?’ Other than between my legs?”
He snorts. “Anywhere, nowhere.”
“Boots gettin’ deep—somewhere other than between my legs.”
Another snort.
“You are not what I expected, princess,” he concedes, an odd note to his voice.
“Whatdidyou expect?”
“Rich bitch needing to be put in her place. And wanting to be put there. Probably looking to slum it.”
“Ah.” Ouch. “Do you see that often…? In your line of work?”
“Often enough. Though I’d guess you see it more often in yours—from a different angle.”
“What do you mean?”
“Men. Trying to get into your pants. Just to tell their buddies they did.”
“Yes…” He’s not wrong. “That definitely happens.” I’ve had more than a few men try to pull that shit with me—and at least one that made me believe that wasn’t all he wanted. I was wrong and my reputation took a hit for it.Hisreputation? Glowed briefly and brightly from landing me on my back. So I dealt with him more…creatively. “Like you aren’t going to report back to your buddies in some locker room…”
“No buddies to report back to. Not anymore,” he adds darkly. “Doesn’t matter. I don’t kiss and tell.”
“You don’t kiss at all.”
He snorts. “‘Discretion is the better part of valor.’” He shifts in his seat, stretching his neck from side-to-side. “Looks like another three hours…”
“Until we’re in Greenbriar? Impossible!”
“Not until we’re in Greenbriar. I’m good, but I’m notthatgood.”
“Until what then?”
