by Scott, S. L.
Anger flickers through her eyes, but she steadies her emotions. Must be the lawyer in her.
I take a breath to calm down, and then say, “I get it. This was good under the guise of dimmed lights and a busy bar.”
“But changed since we came here? I’m confused. I don’t want anything from you.” A furrowed brow, closed eyes, and the way she pinches the bridge of her nose reveal the war inside her head. Exhaustion replaces the other emotions. “I thought we were having fun, that you were feeling the same thing I was, but clearly you’re not.” She moves through the living room into the kitchen where she dropped her purse on the counter. “I’ll call a car to take you home.”
What the fuck am I doing? My ego doesn’t get bruised easily, but damn does this place intimidate me. But she’s done nothing wrong. Everything she’s done is right, so right. “I don’t want to leave.”
“Then what do you want?” Our eyes stay fixed on each other, softening the tension. She cocks an eyebrow in challenge, causing me to smile.
“You’re going to make a good lawyer.”
That elicits a grin of her own. Setting her phone down, she rests against the counter. “I think we came here full of fire and . . .” She blushes. “Did the flames burn out?”
“God, no. I’ve never wanted anyone more.” I just wanted more from her than anyone else before. Running my hands through my hair, I move to the sliding door again. With my fingers woven together at the back of my head, I stare out into the night, but then catch her reflection in the glass. When I see sadness take hold of her, my arms fall to my sides, and I turn around. “I’m not used to doing sweet and gentle, but for you, I want that.”
I go to her and caress her cheek. “I should have gotten you off, but if you want to call it a night, I’d be happy just to see you again.”
“You would?” she asks with a shake to her voice as she stares at my chest.
“Sure, I would.” I lift her chin. She’s been dancing between sweet and sexy all night, and it’s genuine, not an act. It’s been a long time since I met anyone not tainted by life, but here she is, standing before me like it’s possible to wrangle the sunrise and share the hope that a new day brings. “Any guy would be lucky to take you out on a date.”
“Under all that bravado, you say some pretty nice things.”
Thinking about her apartment, the way she’s dressed . . . for fuck’s sake, she’s going to be a lawyer. She’s welcomed me into her private world so freely. Gave me her trust without asking anything in return. That’s not something I’m ever given without conditions, but she just did. I kiss her cheek and then her lips because she’s hard to resist, but also because she deserves the beautiful life she’s living. “You deserve nice things.”
“Look around you, Dare. I have nice things, but they don’t define me. I’d like to see you again. We can take things slow if you want. I promise I’m not clingy. If you want to leave tonight or stay until morning, it’s up to you.”
“That simple, huh?” I reply.
“That simple. No strings attached.”
“A plan laid out like a business deal.” I chuckle while shaking my head. “You don’t understand,” I say, grinning. “I want to stay, but I want to get to know you before we head back into that bedroom again.” I stop stressing about how I didn’t shower before the show or that my clothes haven’t been washed since last week. I slide my hands down to hold her by the waist. “Let me take you out on a date, Weatherly?”
I’m rewarded with one of her smiles that feels more like a prize. “I didn’t take you for the charming type.”
“Don’t confuse me for those guys you’re used to. I don’t hide behind titles, résumés, or lies. I’m not the charming kind. I just tell the truth. But so you know, parents don’t usually approve of me, and girls who usually hang around only want one thing from me. I’m not saying this to scare you off. Quite the opposite. I want you to know what you’re getting into.”
“If you were that bad, we’d still be in that bedroom.”
I shrug. “What can I say? You caught me at a weak moment. I don’t want screw this up.”
Lifting up on her toes, she cups my face. “You’re doing everything right.” Holding me to her, she kisses me. When she lowers back down, she adds, “You want to take me on a date?”
“I do. Would you like to go out with me?”
She nods. “When?”
“How about Sunday or Monday? I have a show on Sunday night, so it would have to be late. I’m free all Monday, though.”
“Monday works better for me. I have my exam on Monday, so I’ll be studying all weekend before then.”
“It’s a date.” Three words I never expected to come out of my mouth, but it’s what she deserves. She’s not a fuck and run. Her genuine sweetness, her enticing sexiness, her hidden passion—I want it all, but I won’t rush it. It’s as though something is causing me to press pause, knowing it will be worth it. And somehow, pressing pause never felt so right. So good. Maybe she’s the fresh start I’ve been searching for.
It’s a date.
10
Weatherly
I was ready to give him the whole kit and caboodle. My V-card on a silver platter. Dare Marquis didn’t want that . . . just that, I should say. He set a ground rule, which still makes me swoon. He wants to get to know me before we make love—fuck—whatever it is we’re calling it.
A date is an unexpected turn of events.
A plot twist I never saw coming.
Can he be dreamier?
He just proved he can’t.
As much as I thought I was ready to take the next big step, and I’m not referring to earning my law degree, I’m not. At least not on a one-night stand. As for a two-night stand . . . that’s a different story altogether. If he so much as kisses me like he did tonight, I’m afraid I’ll pounce.
What he called dirty, I call sexy as all get-out. I wanted to lick that sweat right off his body, ab by hard ab. I may not have seen those muscles of steel, but I felt them a few times, and he let me. For someone who seems to enjoy my hands on him, I’m not sure how he restrained himself. I was practically feeling him up.
Dare Marquis is an anomaly.
I thought for sure he would be all into de-virginizing me. Unvirginizing? Hmm. I’m not sure what the proper term would be, but fucking works, too. Yet he put the brakes on. I guess I should have asked what it was that made him want to get to know me better when everything was heading toward action in the bedroom. Or so I thought.
Checking my phone for messages, I find I don’t have any. I guess the girls are mad at me. I’m not up for playing by their rules these days.
I take my phone out to the balcony, rest on the railing, and smile seeing his number programmed in. Seems silly, but I love that we exchanged numbers and set a date. I call him.
“Hi,” he says, his husky voice making me want to cradle the phone to body parts other than my ear just to experience what this man’s voice can do.
“Hi. Maybe I am clingy.” I laugh out loud nervously, waiting to hear how he reacts.
“Nah. It doesn’t make you clingy if I’m glad to hear from you.”
Looking at the cars on the street below, I hold the phone a little tighter and smile. “You are?”
“Yes, babe.”
“I’m glad to hear your voice, too.”
I also hear a slow and heavy breath come through as if he’s relaxing in the car he caught home. His friend came to pick him up since it seems we don’t live too far away from each other. “I’m regretting leaving,” he says with a low chuckle.
“I am too. Do you want to come back?” Hope rings in my ears so I know he can hear it as well.
“As much as I’m tempted, you need to get some sleep so you can study this weekend. I’m going home to get some sleep because I’m no good to anyone right now.”
I don’t let my disappointment be heard so easily. “I know you’re right.”
“But it feels wrong.”<
br />
“Yeah,” I reply, keeping my voice lower, our conversation more intimate. “It does.”
“Is that why you called?”
After so many highs tonight, a taste of what’s to come, I say, “I don’t want to be alone.”
There’s a brief pause, and then he says, “I can come back.”
“How far away are you?” Sounding too eager, I confirm that I have no game.
“Almost home.”
Toeing the glass wall below the railing, I say, “I’m sure it’s a hassle.”
“None at all.” I love that he doesn’t pause to mull it over at all. He adds, “I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
Twenty is too long. I should have never let him leave. “Twenty? I thought you were close?”
He chuckles. “I am, but I want to make a stop first.”
“I’ll leave your name at the front desk.”
“See you soon, babe.”
“See you soon.”
I’d taken off my belt earlier, so the wind whips around my legs, causing my dress to balloon. Despite the warm night, I decide to take a bath. My calves ache from the wedges I wore, and I want to get clean. Nothing’s going to happen, but it will feel good to be clean just in case.
After unlocking the door, I start the water for the bath and then pour a glass of white wine. I return to the bathroom, twist my hair up, and check the water temperature. While it continues to fill, I dig out a T-shirt and a pair of boy short underwear, setting them on the bathroom counter. I don’t think the small booty shorts will be a problem. He felt the curve of my ass, but the shirt will cover it anyway.
I pour my favorite bubble bath into the tub and then step in. My muscles ease under the warm water as the scent fills the air. I slink down a little farther and rest my head back. Heated kisses and Dare’s hands on me fill my memories and tighten my tummy. I would have had sex with him tonight.
Will I still? He has me so wound up that I may not be able to keep my hands off him.
I slip my hand under the water, knowing what I need—to get off. He had me so close just from a simple touch. God, so close . . .
Fifteen minutes means I need to be quick. As the memories of Dare’s hands on me come flooding back, I anchor my feet against the curve of the tub and use the resistance to work myself into a tight coil.
Panting breaths.
Dare—pressure for my pleasure while stroking me.
Quickened hands.
Dare—fingertips slipping under the fabric and into my wet lips.
Frenzied little ministrations pull a moan from my core.
Dare—the roughness of his skin mixed with a tender look in his eyes as he explores my entrance.
“Ah,” I let out, my heart beating fast and my breaths coming hard as my body shivers underwater. I exhale long and slow and then take the wineglass by the stem, relaxing back. I sip at first and then quench my thirst by finishing it. It’s good to release some of the pent-up tension Dare’s inspired in me. Especially since he’s returning.
“Hi.”
The glass spins loose in my fingers, but I manage to hold on to it despite jumping a mile high. I look back toward the door and see Dare leaning against the frame—all glorious ten feet of him. At least he is to me. “Hey,” I reply, sitting up with the bubbles covering me.
He thumbs behind him. “You didn’t answer, and the door was unlocked. Hope you don’t mind me letting myself in.”
“No. I left it open for you.” Pushing off, he comes to the side of the tub. His swagger is backed by how his confidence, or maybe even cockiness fills his strides. His hair is wet, and he’s wearing different clothes. “You changed.”
“I showered.”
Fluffing bubbles in my hands, I blow some at him. “I guess you don’t want to join me then?”
A smile creases his cheeks. “If I get in there, it will get dirty real fast.”
“But you showered?” One second passes before I catch his drift. “Oh. Yes, you’re probably right.”
Taking my glass, he finishes the wine. Why is that so sexy? “Want me to clean your back?”
“Do I want your hands on me again? Yes, and please.” I move through the water slowly as the bubbles start to dissipate. With my legs bent, I wrap my arms around my thighs and rest my chin on my knees.
He sits on the marble side and takes a bottle of shower gel. Holding it to his nose first, he says, “Smells good.”
“It’s my favorite. Lavender.” I close my eyes when his hands flatten against my back and rub, massaging my shoulders and down my spine. “Mmm. You’re spoiling me, Marquis.”
“I’m okay with that.”
His hands are slick with soap and water, sliding against my skin. The tips of his fingers are so close to the sides of my breasts that I’m tempted to open up to let him have access. Having him bathe me feels so good, erotic even.
Taking it slow with him might be my hardest challenge yet. After he rinses me, he leans down and kisses the top of my head. My cheek comes to rest on my knees so I can get a look at him. “Why’d you come back?”
“Because you invited me.”
“Then why did you leave in the first place?”
“Because I needed the space to think.”
“And you got that space?”
He grabs the towel from the shelf and holds it wide open. “Too much when it comes to you. It’s late. Let’s get you to bed.”
Even though he’s facing me, he holds the towel far enough in front that when I stand with my back to him, my backside is covered. I wrap the towel around me and turn around. “And what are you going to do?”
“I’m coming to bed with you.” He offers me his hand. When I take it, he adds, “To sleep.”
I step out, but he doesn’t make a move, so I land in his arms, which he wraps around my waist. Kissing my forehead, he then closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “You smell amazing.”
Since I’m positioned at his neck, I’ve been taking inhales of him as well. “You do too.”
He exhales and moves to the door, leaving me dripping wet on the rug. “I’ll wait out here and let you do your thing.”
I nod just as the door closes. From the sight of him to his scent, I practically become a puddle of my own right here on the bathroom floor. Good Lord, he makes me want to do crazy things.
Pushing down the crazy thoughts I’m having about ravaging him and feeding him while we lounge around naked, I brush my teeth and then get dressed. New messages light up my phone screen on the counter, catching my eye. They must be heading home and just noticed I never met up with them again. They didn’t care earlier, so I don’t mind leaving them waiting until tomorrow.
When I open the door, Dare’s not in the bedroom, but a pale pink rose with beautiful fluttery petals is in my hello gorgeous mug on my nightstand.
Smiling to myself, I pick up the rose and hold it to my nose, letting the fragrance fill me. The scent matches my favorite perfume, which is the one my grandmother used to wear. I stick the stem back in the water and then find him on the balcony lying on the chaise.
“Come here,” he says, eyeing me from my face to my bare legs.
Even without a lot of room on the chair, it’s easy to snuggle against his large frame, resting my head on his chest and one of my legs on his. After his arm comes around me, I whisper, “Thank you for the flower. It’s one of my favorites.”
“I’m glad.”
“When I was a girl, my grandmother had this huge rose garden next to the cottage where she lived on our property. You could smell them twenty yards from the house. She loved the old-fashioned doubles best. Like the one you brought me. I love their complications. All those petals blooming to be seen.” I tilt my head up. “Where did you get it?”
“My roommate. Romeo has a small garden on the side of the house. He grew up on a farm in Marble Falls.”
“I bet it’s beautiful in Marble Falls.”
“I’ve only been out there once, and that wa
s in winter. They had winter crops but not the colorful stuff. His parents helped him set up the garden, and he inherited their green thumb.” His breath is warm like his body when it hits the top of my head. “I think he grows flowers to save money when he wants to give them to a girl.”
Giggling, I look back above the city, tracking a plane as it crosses the sky. “I must admit it does feel special. I’ve actually never received anything other than the no smell store-bought roses.” His arms tighten just enough for me to cozy in again. “Thank you for making the effort.”
“I’ve never done this with a girl.”
“Held someone in a lounge chair?”
“Made an effort.”
I close my eyes, listening to his heartbeat. “I’m the first?”
“Yeah, you are, Pepper.”
I’m his first. I probably shouldn’t like that idea as much as I do. But I realize that perhaps we were meant to be each other’s firsts but in different ways.
11
Dare
Even in the dark, my eyes have adjusted enough to see her smile in the moonlight as she hovers over me with her hands pressed to my chest. “We can sleep together.” Falling back down in laughter, she adds, “Actual sleep.”
“Just sleep,” I repeat. I don’t know why. Maybe for me. Maybe for her.
She pushes off to get up but then holds her hands out for me. “Come on.”
In the bedroom, she climbs under the covers on the side of the bed where I left the rose on the nightstand. I come around the far side of the bed where she’s left room for me. Before I start undressing, I ask, “You sure?”
“I’m sure.”
I tug my T-shirt off over my head and toss it on the bench at the foot of the bed. Her eyes move over me, and I see her bite gently on her bottom lip. My shoes are toed off and my jeans come down. Wearing only boxer briefs, I lie down next to her.
The contrast of her hair against the white sheets makes it easy to see the outline of the strands fanned across the pillow. Her shoulders rest above the blanket while covering her from the collarbone down. She about killed me when she walked out in a T-shirt with the collar cut out. The gray shirt hung off one shoulder with smooth legs underneath.