Page 12 of A Shot in the Dark
There is something about him that is intoxicating. Standing absolutely statuesque in the open doorway of my motel room and backlit by the glare of the parking lot lights, Boots is the very definition of a one-night stand.
“Yes, and I want an answer.”
He grunts. “I know what you want more than any fucking answer,” he challenges, dropping my bags to the floor and kicking the door shut behind him.
“Do you?” I ask coyly, uncrossing my legs and leaning back on the bed to arch my back and showcase my breasts. From thewarmth I feel building on them, he’s taken notice, regardless of if I can see his eyes.
“Yeah, I fucking do, princess. You don’t want an answer. And you don’t want to ask yourself any soul-searching questions or even have aboyfriend.” The last word comes out of him like it’s the dirtiest one in his clearly limited vocabulary. “You aren’t ready for anything real, anything serious—all you want is a really good fuck.”
In my mind’s eye a red flag flutters. A reasonable woman would get this man out of her room. I am feeling decidedly unreasonable. Daring.
Besides, he’s trusted by the police, what real danger is there?
I lick my lips and lower my eyelashes so I can look up at him from beneath them.“Maybe I do.”
“Great,” he growls. “Because tonight I’m going to fuck you right out of those fancy shoes of yours.”
Red flag.
My heart pounds and the breath dies in my throat. This is probably the dumbest thing I’ve ever done. What do I even know about this guy? Not his name or his age—nothing about his past… Only that he’s ex-military, cuts an amazing silhouette in a driver’s uniform, has perfectly spotless boots, and knows how to handle a car on tight curves. And that he’s not my stalker—he can’t be. And right now—that’s more than enough. I’ve known just as little before slipping between the sheets with other men.
“Then do it.” I sound utterly unimpressed even as my pulse pounds in my ears. Boots prowls two smooth steps forward, panther-like in his grace.
I look past his shoulder at the door, wondering aloud, “Aren’t you going to lock it?”
“Let someone walk in. They’ll learn a thing or two.”
The way he says it, I have no doubt Boots takes pride in delivering his lessons.
I run my fingers along the hem of my skirt, lifting it the slightest bit. I keep my eyes fixed on Boots.
The parts of his face I can see are all lean muscle, cheekbones sharp enough to cut, and hunger.
“Ground rules,” he states softly, the words coming out of him part purr, part growl. “The uniform stays on,” he says. “And the glasses. I don’t know you; you don’t know me. That’s the only way this works. Your safe word is Mercedes.”
Red flag.
“And your safe word?”
“I don’t need a safe word.”
Chapter 5
Redfuckingflag.
Still, something coils in the pit of my stomach and warmth spreads out from it, enveloping me and making the entire world look as gauzy as if it was all on the far side of the room’s thin curtains.
Boots begins to peel off his driving gloves.
“Ground rules,” I repeat, and he freezes. He tilts his head, watching me like suddenly the game has changed. As if this is something new. Something interesting. “The gloves stay on. So do the boots, Boots. You’re gonna want traction. And that cock of yours? You’re gonna wrap that thing up. And yes,Boots,” I roll his name off my tongue like a warning, “the lady always gets what she wants.”
One side of his mouth tips up in a grin. “Of course.” His hands drop to frame the silver belt buckle winking just below his somber black vest and he slowly, tantalizingly, begins to undo his belt.
Mesmerized, I say, “I thought you said the uniform stayson…”
“It does.” He pulls the belt loose of its loops so fast it cracks like a whip.
My words come out thick and slow, my brain stumbling. “I’m beginning to have second thoughts…”
