Shot in the Dark (Blackbridge Security #2) - Marie James Page 0,75
couch and go in search of something to wrap myself in until he returns.
I find no blankets in the hall closet, but the stacks and stacks of unopened Star Wars LEGO sets makes me smile. There aren’t any blankets in the guest bedroom closet either, but I pause in the doorway of the master bedroom. He allowed me in this space last night, and Simon has no qualms about sleeping on the ruffled blankets, but going in here alone right now makes me feel weird.
My skin tingles when I cross the threshold, and as the scent of our lovemaking last night hits my senses, I’m instantly turned on. Jesus, did we soak the sheets, or is my mind just playing tricks on me?
With my gaze on the closet door, I do my best to ignore the spot on the bed that embarrassed Wren so completely last night. I’ll grab the blankets and then run some laundry. As much as I hate to wash away our combined scents, it just means we get to remake them again tonight.
The light in the closet is harsh compared to the dulled light coming in from the curtains in the room, but after my vision adjusts, I see the blankets high on the shelf. I have to chuckle to myself because it’ll take a damn ladder for me to reach them.
Jumping doesn’t help and climbing the shelving isn’t an option considering I don’t want to fall and lie here helpless for who knows how long. Plus, Simon is irritated with my newfound friendship and he’ll probably start to eat my corpse the second I hit the floor.
I grab a shirt from the bar, holding it to my nose for the briefest of seconds before tugging the t-shirt from it. Using the corner of the hanger, I attempt to move the blanket, and luckily after about eleven-billion tries, I budge it just the slightest amount. I’m near breaking out into a sweat before I make any real progress, but after the corner of the blanket is clear of the shelf, I’m able to hook the folded area and pull.
The blankets come down, but so does a box. I cover my head for protection, but a slow grin spreads my face when I see what has fallen at my feet. Among the layers of blankets is a variety of sex toys. The ball gag makes me grin, my body coming alive with just the thought of Wren holding it out in front of him with a questioning look, but then my eyes land on the feather tickler, then the fur-lined cuffs.
Each item is so familiar, the sweat I worked up getting the blanket down cools on my skin making me shiver. Each one of the items on the floor at my feet are eerily similar to the box of things Sarah sent me months ago. The first delivery was somehow lost even though it showed delivered, but Sarah sent the items again, a gag gift of sorts because honestly, how can anyone handle a twelve-inch cock? Certainly not a girl who hadn’t done the deed in longer than I’m comfortable talking about with anyone.
The first box showed delivered…
“Please, no,” I whisper, the closet swallowing my plea.
My mind races, my hands refusing to reach down and confirm what I know I’m going to find.
There were always mix ups at the front desk. Wren and I even joked about me getting his packages and the care I had to take each time I picked something up to make sure it was mine and not his.
My hand trembles against my mouth. If I find what I know I’m going to find, what does it mean for us? What could possibly make this okay?
A whimper escapes, and I barely hold in a sob when I see the name on the shipping label.
W. Nelson.
But it’s the Apt. 913 that breaks me.
Tears streak down my face, forcing me to question every single interaction.
The game? The meeting in the elevator?
Was any of it real?
He’s the best hacker that I’ve ever heard of. There’s no way he didn’t know who I was before our “coincidental” meetings. It was all arranged. I’m not here because of fate or kismet. I’m here because he orchestrated it all.
Every second has been a lie.
Every kiss planned.
Every touch just another chess piece moved on his part.
Did he send Jones after me to put me in a position to rely on him?
Did he fuck me last night knowing everything about me