Page 31 of Masters of the Game: Colton

Cobra had known the moment this woman walked into Swanky’s wearing a tight-ass dress with a split nearly to her waist, that the night would end with him in her bed or she in his. Her name was Allison, and she explained it had to be his bed since she had two small kids at home with a babysitter.

No problem. They had left her car at the nightclub, and on the drive to his place, he had explained his expectations. All they would have was tonight. He didn’t do sleepovers. Nor did he do repeats. No exceptions.

She expressed an understanding while keeping her hand firmly planted on his crotch while he drove. He couldn’t wait to get her into his bed.

She made some kind of admiring words about his house the moment he’d driven up the long-winding driveway.

He accepted her compliments in stride. There was no need to tell her this was not his primary home.

He lived in New York and was in Savannah on a short visit.

Nor did she need to know that he and his two brothers owned second homes in the town where they had been born and raised.

A ton of Masters lived in Savannah. He had friends who still lived here.

Sheriff Leon Strawberry was his best friend from high school, and the newly elected mayor, Titus Gaffney, was his best friend from college at Harvard.

But the only things Allison needed to know were the rules he played by.

If she agreed, he’d give her a night she wouldn’t forget.

He could barely turn off his alarm system and get her inside his house before she started removing her clothes.

Then, snatching a bottle of wine and two glasses off his counter, she raced upstairs naked.

He ran up the stairs behind her, loving her energy.

He could hardly wait for the fun to begin.

He hadn’t felt this playful in years. Damn, she was beautiful naked, and all he could think of was getting inside of her.

While she poured two glasses of wine and set them on the nightstand, he stripped down to his boxers. Suddenly, he remembered something. “Damn.”

Propped up on the pillow in his bed, legs already spread wide, she looked at him. “What?”

“I forgot to do something downstairs.” He absently tossed the condom pack he’d taken out of his pants on the nightstand near the wine glasses. “Stay in that position, Allison. I’ll be right back.”

Rushing down the stairs, he went into his office, where another good friend from high school, Anthony Tombstone, who owned a security company, had installed state-of-the-art video cameras around his property and in every room of his house.

The last thing he wanted was video footage of what was about to go down in his bedroom.

He was about to switch that particular monitor off when he noticed Allison slide off the bed.

Hadn’t he told her to stay in that position?

His salivating eyes were glued to her naked ass when he noticed that she quickly pulled a miniature packet from the bracelet around her wrist. Looking over her shoulder to make sure he wasn’t coming back into the room, she quickly emptied the contents into one of the wine glasses.

What the hell ! She was spiking his drink! If that wasn’t bad enough, she then pulled a bobby pin from her hair and began using it to poke holes in the condom pack that contained at least half a dozen of them.

His arousal was now replaced by overwhelming anger. Picking up his office phone, he pressed a button and a male voice said, “Cobra, I heard you were in town.”

“Tombstone, I need you to permanently save tonight’s footage. Inside and outside. Especially in my bedroom. I came into my office to disconnect my bedroom footage and noticed the woman upstairs not only spiking my wine but also poking holes in my condom packs.”

“Damn! It’s a good thing you saw her and got a video recording of it. You need to file charges against her ass. Have her arrested. Poking holes in condoms is considered a form of sexual assault. And there’s no telling what she put in your drink.”

“You’d better believe I will be pressing charges,” Cobra said. “Contact Straw. Send him here immediately.”

“I’m contacting Straw right now. I know for a fact he’s on duty tonight.”

“Good.”

“In the meantime, make sure she doesn’t try to get rid of the evidence. And I know just how to make sure that she doesn’t,” Tombstone said.

“How?” Cobra asked, almost too afraid to ask. In high school, Tombstone was the class jokester and prankster. He would drive their teachers bananas with his never-ending escapades.

“Listen up, Masters.”

Moments later, Cobra was rushing up the stairs. Allison appeared to be in the same spot he’d left her. Quickly grabbing his pants off the floor, he stared at her. Seeing her legs open in invitation made his stomach turn. “Get up! We need to get out of here and hide in my basement.”

“What!” she shrieked, closing her legs. “Hide in your basement? Why?” she asked, getting off the bed.

“A few guys from my gang found out I ratted on them. I just got word from my homies that they’re on their way to kill me, and anyone I’m with. Execution style.”

“Jesus!” she said, “I need to get out of here now!”

He heard the panic in her voice. “You can’t leave. I was told that they already have this place surrounded. They will blow your head off the minute you open the front door. Since I parked in the garage and the lights are still off downstairs, they don’t know for certain that I’m home.”

“What about the light in here?” she asked in a frantic voice.

“The window in this room faces the backyard, so they can’t see it. We need to hide out in my basement until I’m sure they are gone. Hurry up. Your clothes are downstairs. Grab them off the floor. You can dress in the basement. There’s a light down there.”

“Okay.”

Her naked ass rushed past him to literally run down the stairs at breakneck speed. He had put on his pants and pull on his shirt by the time he joined her. She had managed to slide into that tight-ass dress in the dark, but had her shoes in her hand.

“Come on,” he whispered.

“Shouldn’t you call the police?” she whispered as well.

“I already have. But there’s no telling how long it might take them to get here. They know the kind of business I’m in and probably welcome me getting my head blown off.”

“Mercy!”

He opened the door that led to the basement. “One of my homies will alert me when the danger has passed.”

“I have two kids at home who need me. I would never have come here with you tonight had I known you were a gangsta. I assumed you were some high-class, respectable businessman. I should have known better when you said your name was Cobra. No sane mother would name her kid that. When this is over, I hope I never see you again.”

He had news for her: he would be seeing her again--in court. He would make sure they locked her up and threw away the key. Instead of responding to her tirade, he remained quiet and kept his cool.

A short while later, his Apple Watch dinged.

“What was that?” she asked, standing close behind him.

“An alert to let me know the police have arrived.”

“Praise him! The sooner I leave here, the better,” Allison said.

He opened the basement door, and she swept past him at the same time he heard his name being called from the living room. Recognizing the voice, he said, “In the kitchen, Straw.”

The kitchen lights came on and three police officers entered.

Leon Strawberry had been given the nickname Straw in elementary school for his last name and his physique.

Tall and lanky, he’d played basketball in college until a knee injury ended what everyone assumed would have been a promising NBA career.

“I got here as fast as I could. Tombstone told me what was going down, and some of my men are collecting the evidence. By the way, Tomb sent over a copy of the video.”

“Good.”

“Look, officer,” Allison was saying. “I need to call an Uber for a ride back to my car. I had no idea things would end up like this when I left Swanky’s with this guy.”

“I’m sure you didn’t. And I’m not an officer. I’m the sheriff. Sheriff Strawberry.”

“Sheriff Strawberry, it’s nice to meet you, but like I said, I need to go. I don’t associate with gangstas.”

“Unfortunately, miss, the only place you’ll be going is with me. You’re under arrest.”

Shock appeared on her face when two officers came forward with handcuffs. “Under arrest?”

“Yes,” Sheriff Strawberry said, not smiling. After reading her the Miranda rights, she then said, “And I need this as part of the evidence.” He removed her bracelet and slipped it into a clear evidence bag.

“But–but, I’m not a criminal. He is,” she said, indicating Cobra. “And you have no right to take my bracelet.”

“Ma’am, you are under arrest for sexual assault.”

“Sexual assault?”

“Yes, tampering with a condom is a crime. As is spiking Mr. Masters’ wine.”

A flash of guilt on her face was quickly replaced with fury. “You can’t prove a thing.”

Sheriff Strawberry chuckled. “Unfortunately, we can. You were caught on a video camera in his bedroom, and the evidence–the tampered condom packets and the drink--have already been collected as evidence. As has this bracelet, which has a secret compartment.” He then looked at the two officers. “Put her in the squad car.”

She turned and, with her hands cuffed, tried striking out at Cobra, hitting his knee and thigh with her feet, while spewing God-awful obscenities. It was apparent she’d been aiming for his balls. Finally, the two officers managed to get her under control.

Once they had her in the squad car, Cobra said, “Make sure you add assault and battery to the charges, Straw.”

His best friend looked at him and shook his head. “One day you’ll realize you need to put a lock on your zipper, Cobra. And you need to follow me to the precinct to give a statement.”

“No problem. I’ll ask Tez to meet me there.”

Straw lifted a brow. “So, the hot-shot attorney is in town, too?”