Shot in the Dark (Blackbridge Security Book 2)

by Marie James

  Every step I’ve made to finally meet this girl in real life has been fabricated on my behalf, other than the chance meetings we’ve had.

  “Jesus, I’ve fucked up,” I mutter.

  “Yep,” one of the guys says, but I’m too lost in my own thoughts that I don’t know who it was.

  Honestly, during my downward spiral, I’d forgotten they were even standing there.

  “I have work to do,” I grumble before turning around and walking toward my office.

  Thankfully, they don’t follow me, and they must somehow understand where my head is at because they also don’t laugh as I walk away.

  I give myself an hour. Sixty minutes to gather everything that I can on Whitney Nelson, because then I have to go cold turkey.

  I shoot her a message on TalkToMe before digging deeper into her keystrokes. This, of course, is just another violation, but not being prepared feels like the slow walk to the death chamber. I can’t run the risk of saying or doing something that would offend her. I would never change my views on world issues or anything like that, but it’ll be good to know just how compatible we are.

  I know most people learn these things through interactions, but I’m an idiot, hence the tips and hints the guys have been giving me on women. I have the ability to ruin anything before it gets started, and that just isn’t an option with Whitney.

  Puff must sense my mood because he just walks back and forth on the desk whistling to himself rather than harassing me.

  If I felt guilty before about the things I’ve done to get to know her better, it has nothing on the feelings settling in my gut when I discover her love for posting in online forums.

  I don’t find anything political, or her opinions on healthy living and dieting. I don’t discover some dark secrets about childhood trauma or online questions about how to deal with bullies, disrespect, or the like. She isn’t asking about fashion and makeup tips. Her Pinterest boards aren’t loaded with recipes and cute animals, despite her penchant for funny memes and cat videos.

  No, Whitney Nelson has other secrets.

  Sexy secrets.

  Dark, sexy secrets.

  It seems, the further I dig, the box hidden in my apartment seems more necessity and less a gag gift from a friend in California.

  Whitney Nelson is into kink.

  The descriptions she typed out on some of these websites leave me panting and hard as a rock.

  “I don’t see anything wrong with a man I trust walking up to me and gripping me by the neck, demanding I drop to my knees and service him for hours. I’m getting wet right now just thinking about my lips being raw from taking care of him until he’s finished with my mouth.”

  Yeah, she typed that, and not years ago while in college or while she was younger and trying to figure herself out. The girl I’m infatuated with typed that out less than three months ago in response to another poster who complained about her Dom being too needy.

  She goes on to tell the original poster that different aspects of the life aren’t for everyone, and these are things she needs to discuss with him before engaging in scenes.

  My jaw is nearly sitting in my lap as I read. She mentions wanting all of these things, but I discover more than one post about how she never gets these things. That the couple of times she tried this stuff with her college boyfriend, he wasn’t really into it, and things didn’t go as planned.

  Her friend, Sarah from California—with a little research, I find Sarah is the one to have sent the box—urged her to find the safest clubs in St. Louis, even providing links to websites for her. Whitney declined all of them, even one in Denver called Hale-ish that Sarah agreed to meet her at to set her mind at ease.

  It seems Whitney wants all of these things, but she’s too scared to ask for them or has been burned in the past.

  She has all of these desires and no outlet for them.

  I’m no stranger to kink. You don’t spend nearly your entire life online without discovering just about everything there is to know about different subsets in society. As a horny high school kid, I did a lot of research, finding out quickly I like many of the same things she’s mentioned.

  That’s what made things easier about my online hookups. It’s gut-turning to think of meeting someone in public and then when things get bedroom serious, discover people think you’re sick or disgusting. I’ve read horror stories about many people who’ve gone through those types of things, and I never wanted to be one.

  Setting things up online with clear and concise parameters has worked for me.

  Now the decision is, do I let this play out with Whitney naturally or do I hint at my own?

  The timer I set for discovery rings, and even though I want to keep reading, even though I want to dive deeper into her sexual fantasies, I vowed to stop all of it.

  I clear the cache in my computer and shut down everything. I’ll no longer watch her workout or check her mail. I’ll no longer try to guess what tasty things she had delivered from Door Dash. It ends today. If I want to build something real with her, I have to allow some things to be a surprise.

  When the screens go dark, I immediately feel the loss.

  Maybe I’m delusional, but my obsession with her doesn’t seem as bad as it might appear on paper.

  I’m stopping now. Everything that happens between us now will be natural, forged through time spent together and in-person discovery.

  If only I didn’t have this rock sitting in my stomach telling me that I’ve already gone too far for her to ever trust me.

  Chapter 12

  Whitney

  “Are you sure you can’t stay?” I give Sarah the biggest puppy dog eyes I can manage as we break our hug in the doorway of my apartment.

  “I wish I could.” She wraps her fingers around the handle of her suitcase. “I have that meeting first thing in the morning. We’ll make plans for a longer visit soon.”

  She presses a kiss to my cheek before heading to the elevator. Twenty-four hours is all we got together, but I’m beyond grateful for that small amount of time. She’s the best friend a girl could ask for. I mean, how many people can say they’re close enough to someone who will jump on a plane just to make sure you don’t get killed on a first date? Not many, I imagine.

  She gives a final wave before disappearing, and I’m stuck standing in my doorway thinking about the discussions we had last night. We analyzed every word that came out of Wren’s mouth. We discussed his actions, the way he watched my mouth, and this cool sense of calm I felt around him. Sarah thinks he may be compatible with me sexually, and going by the kiss we shared, I’d have to agree with her. But there’s an ocean of distance between being able to get my attention during a kiss and being able to hold it during intimacy.

  Any guy can be rough during sex. Any guy can slap you on the ass and call you filthy names, but that doesn’t mean they know how to do it right. Believe me, saying the things a woman like me wants to hear doesn’t exactly work when the guy is only looking for his release, uncaring for the woman under him providing that pleasure.

  I busy myself with dreaded housework, changing the sheets on the guest bed and washing linens, merely wasting time until I can get on Orc’s Realm. When I’m done with chores, including feeding Simon, I log on to find Wren waiting in the game for me.

  I refuse to analyze the thrill of seeing his character standing there, now suited in the best armor the game has to offer rather than just the loincloth he was provided when he first started playing.

  “Hey,” I tell him when I turn my mic up, making sure my character gives him a little wave.

  I hope things won’t be awkward for us. Sarah and I really built him up, and like always, I’m waiting for the disappointment.

  “You remember what tonight is?” God, I freaking love his voice, and now that I’m hearing it for the first time over the mic since hearing it in person yesterday, I can’t believe I didn’t recognize it the time we met on the elevator with his parrot. It has the same hus
kiness to it that makes my skin tingle.

  “We take down the biggest boss,” I answer.

  “You ready for the after-party?”

  God, I’m so ready.

  The party is going to be epic, the biggest one we’ll have as this will be our first since this patch went live.

  “So ready,” I tell him, not recognizing the breathiness of my own voice.

  “Sounds like you’re already a little keyed up.” His character starts dancing—a ridiculous hip thrust before waving his arms in the air. “It’ll be our first orgy together.”

  I nearly choke on my own spit.

  “You okay?”

  “I’m fine,” I sputter.

  “I’m wearing my loincloth under my armor.”

  I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing.

  “I’m naked under mine,” I confess.

  It’s Wren’s turn to lose control.

  “Well, let’s get this thing over with. I’ve been wanting to see you naked for over a month.”

  I grin, knowing he’s talking about the game, and also hoping he means me in person. I don’t confess that I’ve wanted the same thing. Maybe not for an entire month, but my fantasies get a little wild, and W45PN357 has definitely been playing a starring role recently.

  It takes five tries before we’re capable of defeating the final boss. Wren pulled out moves none of us have ever seen before, but I don’t question his ability to succeed because more than likely he’s the real Wasp. Honestly, I’m just as eager as he seems to be to get to the after-party.

  Even virtual sex can be nerve-wracking. My character is in peak physical shape, her body the form of what society tells everyone is perfection, whereas in real life, we’re not very similar. My character doesn’t have boobs too big for her small frame. She isn’t on the shorter side with a rounded belly she can’t seem to get rid of no matter how many hours are spent running on the treadmill and doing crunches.

  “Wow,” Wren whispers. “Look at the turnout. Do these people join in or will they just stand around and cheer us on as we get down to business?”

  “They have to watch,” I pant, watching both of our characters walk down the road, waving at the people cheering us on. “Only the champions get to participate.”

  “Anyone in particular you have your eyes on for tonight’s festivities?”

  His character walks up to me, slapping me on the ass before taking my hand and slowing us both down, allowing all the others to walk ahead of us.

  “I might have my eyes on someone.”

  “Is it Tasha? She’s been hinting at wanting to get under your armor for the last week,” Whitney asks.

  The procession continues, but instead of following, Wren presses my back against an in-game lamppost. I feel the grip of his character’s fingers on my actual neck and I barely catch the moan before it slips past my lips.

  “Do you like that?” he whispers.

  “Mhmm,” I manage. “Harder.”

  “Jesus,” he mutters into the mic. “How do people play the actual game when they could be doing this the entire time?”

  “Crazy, right?”

  W45PN347: Take that armor off, baby. Show me what I want to see.

  Glad that he’s taken the conversation to the chat box, I obey without questions, stripping the metal from my character’s body and standing there completely naked in front of him. He strips down as well, leaving nothing on but his loincloth. Holding his finger up, Wren’s character makes a motion for me to spin around. I obey, my arms tingling with chills as I watch his animated cock thicken between his legs.

  With the crook of his finger, he urges me forward, gripping my neck once again before licking into my mouth.

  Jesus, is it hot in here? Did my air conditioning suddenly decide to fail?

  With two hands on my shoulders, he pushes me to my knees, and I oblige him, holding my mouth open before he can waste energy giving me another command.

  “Fuck,” he whispers, making me realize the mic is still open between us. “How sexy is that?”

  “She gives good head,” I return. “It was gifted in a mystery box a couple years ago.”

  “I don’t want to think about you sucking other guys off.”

  The territorial tone of his voice makes it seem like he means the real me instead of the character on the screen fellating his character.

  “Her pussy—”

  “Enough,” he snaps. “Women with a cock in their throats can’t speak.”

  And now my heart is pounding in my chest.

  I mouth Yes, Sir in response, doing my best to just watch what’s going on between our characters without touching myself, even though my body is desperate for it.

  “Look at you, Rach. See that crowd gathering around? Do you think they want to see you gag?”

  Until he mentioned it, my eyes were glued to the woman on her knees, but a quick glance around my screen reveals several people watching and more walking forward to get a closer look.

  W45PN357: Switch to channel 5. This is private.

  Heat fills my cheeks as I realize everything we’ve said before was audible over the mic for everyone fighting tonight to hear. Literally my entire guild is here tonight, and yeah, this wouldn’t be the first time we talked dirty or acted out things in-game, but for some reason it hits me differently tonight.

  My face is on fire as I struggle with indecision.

  W45PN357: Look at her go! Jesus, I’m going to come.

  And come he does. His character at least. My own character swallows down as much as she can, but with this being a digital enactment, there’s always more to give and cum is dripping down her chin a few seconds later.

  W45PN357: Channel 5, Whitney. I need privacy for what I plan to do to you next.

  It’s all too real. Too close to home. Too tempting.

  RachNRoss4Eva: I think I’m going to go to bed.

  W45PN357: Really? In the middle of the party? I promise to make you come.

  I have no damn doubt. Hell, a stiff breeze would force me to change my panties at this point.

  W45PN357: I’m only three floors away… I can make you come in real life if you prefer.

  Oh damn, how I want that! I tremble with the thought of his hands on me, his voice commanding me, his cock punishing me.

  But inviting him down would only lead to disappointment. The possibility of that displeasure seals the deal for me. I never should’ve met this man. The fantasy is always better than the real thing, and not many men can deliver what he’s promising. Sure, they’re badasses online and can make their characters do things, but in real life they cower away.

  RachNRoss4Eva: Goodnight, Wren.

  I log off before he can convince me to finish the party or worse, I tell him to come down and let me put my money where my mouth was.

  Chapter 13

  Wren

  “I feel like I’ve gone back in time,” I tell her through the mic.

  “How so?” Just like she’s been doing for the last two weeks, Whitney’s character keeps her distance from me.

  I haven’t pushed the issue, but I think that after-party in-game broke something between us.

  “We kissed two weeks ago.”

  “We did,” she confirms.

  “Was it bad? I mean, you’ve turned down every offer I’ve made to meet up again.”

  “It was a great kiss,” she confirms with a sigh.

  “Then was it the after-party? You bolted pretty quickly after—”

  “Not many men complain about not having to reciprocate,” she teases, the laughter in her voice soothing me some.

  “I want to,” I tell her through the mic as my character runs to catch up with her, grabbing her by the neck and spinning her around. “I want to right now.”

  “Wasp,” she pants, and I imagine her chest heaving up and down like her character’s, but Whitney’s tits are so much better than the digital ones.

  “No hard feelings if you don’t want to see me ag
ain.”

  Her sigh echoes in my head, and I try to mentally prepare myself for her rejection.

  “It’s just—”

  “I was too rough, too forceful?” I have to sigh now, too, and decide to take a gamble. “You said honesty is the best policy, right?”

  “I did,” she responds after a brief silence.

  “Then know that if I ever had the chance to do that to you in person, I’d probably be rougher than my character was.”

  My cock grows hard just saying the words.

  “Really?” she squeaks.

  “Yeah.”

  “Show me.” The two words come out breathlessly.

  “You’ll obey every command I give you?”

  “I will,” she promises.

  “Every. Command. Rach. Get naked. Slowly,” I growl, watching in awe as she strips naked as slowly as the game will allow. “Is your pussy this bare in real life?”

  “Y-yes.”

  “Jesus, I bet you taste like honey. Spread your legs, baby, and let me see you.” My character pulls his shirt over his head, and I’ve kept his physique similar to my own because an overinflated ego isn’t something I’ve ever suffered from. “How fucked up is it that even this green pussy turns me on?”

  I run my hand up her thigh, wishing I could do this in real life.

  “Tell me what you want,” I whisper into the mic.

  “Whatever makes you happy.”

  “Mmm,” I pant. “Climb onto that rock and spread your legs. I need to taste you.”

  Her character obeys, and God bless a good image card because the only thing other than doing this in real life would be a virtual-reality experience.

  “Pinch your nipples.”

  She’s panting in my ear, and it helps my sanity a little to know that she’s turned on in real life as well because I’m hard as a rock and seconds away from pulling my cock out to participate in this little online experience.

  The characters go at it on screen, and she obeys every single command I give her, flipping to her knees with her hands behind her back, and I lose the battle with myself, leaving my character’s face buried between her thighs while I unzip my jeans.