Page 7 of A Shot in the Dark (Fated Mates Collection | Triple Threat #1)

R ed fucking flag.

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 stays on …”

“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…”

“Are you really?” he asks smoothly, stalking towards me, the tip of the belt dragging along the motel’s short, red carpet. My gaze sticks to it in a mix of equal parts excitement and dread. We are, at that moment in that cheap motel room, predator and very willing prey.

“Yes,” I whisper, only to find my mouth’s gone dry.

“Who are you affiliated with?” he asks again, though it’s less question than demand.

“No one.”

That muscle in his jaw jumps again. “I can’t believe that… That you are all alone in the big, bad world…? I don’t think you even know who you are,” he murmurs, his lips lifting in an arrogant twist.

My spine straightens at what feels like an insult. “Yes, I do. If this is about consent…”

He goes still, waiting.

I lick my lips again. “I do.” There is no doubt in my mind. “I consent.”

“You have a safe word,” he reminds me. “Mercedes.”

I nod, transfixed.

“Do you want to use the safe word now?”

I shake my head no.

“Okay then.”

“What…what are you going to do with that?” I ask, my eyes back on the belt.

“This?” he asks innocently as he runs a gloved finger along the supple midnight black leather of the belt.

“Yes.”

He leans forward to stroke the leather down the curve of my cheek, leaving me shivering with anticipation. “What do you think I’m going to do with it?”

Words muddle in my brain as I watch him fold the belt carefully in half and smack it against his open palm, startling me. The bed bounces beneath me, squeaking.

What am I thinking?

But that’s just it. I’m not thinking. All I know is that my panties are wet, my nipples are so hard they could cut glass, and Boots stands before me. All I want to do is anything and everything to make him fuck me like there’s no tomorrow.

He reaches out, runs the back of his hand from the center of my forehead down the side of my face so slowly it’s excruciating.

His hand pauses, turning so his fingers rest by the corner of my mouth.

I move my head just far enough to pull one of his fingers into my mouth. I give it a long, firm suck, glove and all, keeping my eyes pinned to the reflection of the wanton woman in Boots’ sunglasses.

I spit his finger out.

“Fucking disrespectful little hellcat…” He chuckles, the sound so dark and rich it rolls straight to the core of me.

“No affiliations—all alone in a world full of so many Big Bad Wolves…” he muses darkly.

“How did that happen? How can you have no idea… Luckily the truth is deep inside you, but so deep, I’m betting you’ve never met the real you.

Never unleashed that part of you.” He leans in close, his breath stroking my ear as he taunts, “Come out, come out, wherever you are…” With one slow step back, the sight of his gloves drags my eyes back to the belt in his hands.

Words tumble out of my mouth. “Are you going to spank me?”

“Lift your skirt.”

Red flag.

Heart pounding so fast I can’t count the beats, I’m frozen in his shadow.

“Do you want to use your safe word? Or do you want me to fuck you?”

Common sense dictates that I shout my safe word and make him leave. More than anything logical, I want him to fuck me.

“Say it.” Another smack of the belt in his hand.

“I want you to fuck me.”

“Then be a good little pet and lift your skirt.”

I wiggle on the bed, battling an uncooperative skirt.

Boots spreads his feet shoulder-width apart.

The bulge I see rising in his tailored slacks makes my mouth go dry as he stands watching me, belt in his glossy gloved hands, the image of me struggling reflected back at me from his glasses.

My skirt finally up around my waist, my tiny red thong leaves my ass exposed to the rough fabric of the cheap bedspread.

“Stand up,” he commands.

I do, wobbling a moment in my six-inch red bottom heels. Laryssa teased me about them once, calling them “fuck-me heels.” “A guy sees you in those and he’s just going to be thinking about giving your pussy a good pounding.” I’ve never wanted her to be so right as right now.

Pressed so close to Boots, his belt is pinned between my nipples and his chest. His cock is hot, straining against the fabric between us and firm against my belly. I whimper at its nearness, wanting it inside me.

“Shirt,” he instructs, and I scramble out of it, all the time wondering what is wrong with me. “Mmhmm. Lace. The bra can stay,” he says, looking me up and down. “Turn around and bend over.”

I begin to compliantly obey but lucidity intervenes. “Condom.”

“That’s not your safe word.”

“It’s in the ground rules.”

“I respect the ground rules,” he grinds out dryly. I get the sense he’s glowering at me from behind his shades. “Use those pretty little fingers of yours to reach into my front pocket and pull out the condom of your choosing.” His words are smooth as silk but full of filth and challenge.

Reaching into one pocket, my eyes never stray from his glasses. It’s a tight fit with the swelling of his cock. I withdraw a half-dozen packets, fanning them out in my hand.

“What’ll it be?” he asks. “Every one comes with its own particular expectations. Choose carefully.”

I consider the options. There are colored ones and ribbed ones. Strawberry flavored probably means oral. Fun for him, but… And then…The better-safe-than-sorry option. I hold it up between us.

“Extra lube,” he notes. With a speed I couldn’t anticipate he tosses the belt on the bed behind me and presses one hand tight to my lower back as one of the fingers on his other hand slips deftly along the edge of my panties, parting the lips of my pussy, and giving its length one firm and staggering stroke that sends me whimpering with pleasure.

He pulls me tighter to him, lifting that same finger to eye level, its tip glistening. “I don’t think we need extra lube.”

Shit. If Boots is not some fucking psycho serial killer, I’m about to have the time of my life. And if he is…well, the results may be the same but I may not get to enjoy the afterglow for as long.

Who knew red flags could be so blindingly pretty?

He lets a single beat pass before adding, “Unless you’re suggesting I enjoy a less standard avenue to entry.”

“No. I’m not into that.”

“You say that now …”

I glance through them again and hold up a different condom.

“The classic,” he announces. “That’ll do.” He steadies me a moment, then lets me go and takes a half-step back. His hands drop to his sides and his fingers flex. “You chose the condom. You put it on me.”

The breath catches in my throat. “Okay.” I fumble with the button at the top of his pants.

“You can do better than that.”

“Yes,” I agree. The button relents.

“Slowly now,” he instructs, his voice thick as I slide the zipper of his slacks down.

“It’s tight,” I say.

“I hope so.”

I blink. The sound of blood rushing fills my ears as my fingers free the silky length of his cock.

“Rub your fingers down my dick.”

Obediently, I trace the veins with a light touch.

He fights down a shudder of pleasure. “Now tell me you want to suck it.”

My gaze snaps up to fix on his glinting sunglasses. “I don’t…”

His hand wraps suddenly around my upper arm. Tightly. “Tell me you want to suck it or deploy your safe word.”

The fuck … “I…want to suck it,” I grumble, glaring at him.

“You’re so pretty when you pout.” He gives my arm a shake. “Now say it like you mean it.”

“I want to suck it.”

He presses his heavy cock into my hands, saying, “That’s too bad because only good girls get to do that, and you’ve been bad, haven’t you?”

I may not have known what to expect from Boots, but I certainly didn’t think I’d be playing the dirtiest game of “yes and” ever. “Yes,” I agree, “and…”

“And what?”

“I want you to fuck me with it.”

“There’s a smart girl. I am going to fuck you with it. Hard and fast. Then so slowly you’ll beg me to finish you off.” He pauses, watching me squirm. “Are you scared?”

“Yes.”

“You want me to fuck you?”

“Yes.”

“And you still want the condom,” he asks so mildly he might as well be asking if I’d like one or two sugars in my coffee.

“Yes,” I state firmly.

I think I see the glimmer of a frown, but it’s gone so fast I can’t be certain. “Then put it on me.”

I do, rolling it down the length of him carefully.

“Time to unleash that wild thing within you,” he says, teasingly. “Come out, come out…” His face remains a study in control. “Let’s set that dark little heart of you free.”

RED FLAG.

I am transfixed and trembling with anticipation.

“Hand me the belt.”

“What if I scream?”

“Oh, you’re gonna scream, princess. You’re gonna scream like you’ve never screamed before when you come all over my dick.” His expression never falters. Never gives a hint of emotion. “Now get the belt.”

All the flags are checkered red and we are off to the races.