I Dare You, King

by Sophie Stern

  I glance at the time on the dashboard and realize I’ve been lost in my thoughts for nearly half an hour and I should probably go get Rose. Surely, she’s had enough time to have a drink, maybe two. It’s late and we both have to be at work in the morning, but more importantly, I need to apologize for hurting her today.

  I didn’t mean to make her feel rejected.

  I head into the bar, flash my ID at the bouncer, and step inside. I’m immediately assaulted by the sound of the jukebox and the smell of smoke. Is it even still legal to smoke in bars? I thought that had been banned years ago, but apparently there’s a bit of leeway for country bars, and there’s no doubt that this is, in fact, a country bar.

  There’s a jukebox in the corner and tables fill one side of the room. The other side has pool tables and dart boards and at the back, I can see the bar itself. There are people everywhere: men in cowboy hats and women in shorts that could double as panties. A group of couples at one table look like they’re celebrating a birthday and there are a bunch of single women obviously having a bachelorette party. If the woman in the white mini-dress wasn’t a giveaway on its own, the four girls around her with bridesmaid sashes certainly are.

  Glancing around the room, I make my way to the back. I don’t see Rose until I’m actually at the counter of the bar. She’s at one end of the row of barstools and she’s gripping a shot of something in her hands.

  Then she downs the shot.

  And another.

  The array of empty shot glasses around her let me know that she’s been hitting it hard in the time I’ve been outside. Five shots? Yeah, she’s not driving home. I motion for the bartender. He makes his way over and I pay Rose’s tab and give him a hefty tip.

  “Don’t worry,” he whispers, murmuring to me. “The last three were water.”

  “Thanks,” I say, shaking my head. Okay, at least someone is looking out for her.

  I walk over to Rose, and I don’t say anything for a long minute. She doesn’t notice me standing there at all. Then I place my hand on her shoulder.

  “I have a boyfriend,” she says without looking up.

  “That’s unfortunate,” I say quietly. “He must be a real asshole if he’s letting you drink here alone tonight.”

  Rose’s head jerks up and around and her jaw drops when she sees me.

  “I thought you didn’t want to come with me tonight.”

  “Plans change.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I wanted to make sure you were all right.”

  “Ah, so you wanted to babysit me. No thanks,” she turns back around and stares at the assortment of glass bottles behind the bar, but she doesn’t try to order another drink.

  “I didn’t come to babysit you,” I take a seat next to Rose. “I just wanted to apologize for being an asshole.”

  “It’s not the first time you’ve been a dick,” she says.

  “Come on now, I wasn’t that bad today.”

  “I know.”

  “Want to tell me what this is really about?” I ask her.

  “What do you mean?”

  “We’ve never hung out outside of work before, Rose. Why tonight?”

  She doesn’t say anything at first, and I wonder what she’s thinking. For the millionth time, I wish I could read her mind. Usually, her thoughts are all over her face. Usually, she’s very easy to read, but tonight, Rose is a closed book.

  “It was a long day, Parker King. I just thought it would be nice to unwind a little bit.”

  She motions for the bartender, who comes over. Rose pulls out her wallet and hands him a couple of bills, but he shakes his head.

  “Already taken care of,” the man says, and jerks his head toward me. Rose looks surprised. Is she shocked I can be a gentleman? Or is she just annoyed I didn’t trust her to take care of herself?

  “Come on, little flower,” I say, taking her hand. “Let’s get you home.”

  She looks at my hand reluctantly. Then she looks back at the bartender.

  “I can call you a cab,” he says helpfully, but Rose shakes her head.

  “It’s fine,” she says, more to herself than to anyone else.

  She comes with me, walking closely, but she doesn’t say anything until we reach my car. I stand there and open the door, but she doesn’t get in. Instead, Rose looks around.

  “What about my car?” She asks.

  “What about it?”

  “What if someone breaks in?”

  “No one is going to steal a Saturn, Rose.”

  “I like that car,” she insists.

  “I’ll have someone come get it,” I tell her. “Give me your keys.” She hands them to me, and I help her get into the car. “Stay here,” I tell her, shutting the door. I call up one of my security guys who works nights. He promises to come get the car and I promise to give him a bonus. I leave the keys with the bartender, along with another twenty, and go back to my vehicle.

  Rose is curled up in the passenger side of the car and she’s fast asleep, like a little kitten. For a second, I just look at her. She’s so damn sweet. So much of me wishes that we could be together in every way. Something tells me I wouldn’t be satisfied with just one night. Not with Rose.

  I should take her back to her apartment, but instead, I find myself driving to my house. It’s really more of a mansion, but there are plenty of guest rooms. I park and glance over at her, but she doesn’t wake up. She doesn’t even stir. I gather Rose up in my arms like a princess, and I carry her into the house.

  It’s after midnight when we get inside and most of my staff has either gone home or to bed. The house is silent as I make my way up to the second floor and down the hall. Rose stirs in her sleep and I hold her closer to myself, not wanting the moment to end, not wanting the night to come to a close.

  Tomorrow, everything will return to normal.

  Tomorrow, everything will go back to how it usually is.

  Tomorrow, the princess returns to the castle and I’ll go back to my dungeon of isolation and loneliness.

  But that’s not until tomorrow.

  I make my way to a guest room and set her down on the bed. I grab a purple quilt from the foot of the bed and spread it over her. She stretches, yawns, and rolls over, then continues sleeping. For just a second, I watch her and wonder how my life would be different if she was the one I fell in love with instead of Janine.

  I don’t think Rose ever would have hurt me the way Janine did, but now it’s too late. Now I’m too broken, untrusting. Now I’m too jaded to truly love someone like Rose.

  Now I’m too dark.

  I leave the room and shut the door quietly, wondering how I’m going to face the world tomorrow knowing she’ll never be mine.

  6––––––––Rose

  I’m not in my bed.

  I wake up and I’m not in my bed.

  Fuck.

  The last thing I remember is peeling out of the parking lot and heading to The Grizzly Bear, which is my favorite country bar. I was upset with Parker for turning down something as simple as post-work drinks. I only invited him for drinks. That’s it. Drinks.

  I don’t remember anything after getting to the bar.

  How much did I drink?

  And whose bed am I in?

  It’s a weird thought, that I’m in someone’s home and I have no recollection of getting there. I sit up, slowly. I still have all of my clothes on. Good. I didn’t get raped or murdered last night. As strange as it is, this is reassuring to me.

  The room I’m in is bright and big. The back wall of the room, across from the bedroom door, is entirely windows and the curtains are all open, so the sun is shining in. The bed is huge and sits against the right side of the room. It’s a four-poster bed and it’s got curtains attached. I feel like a medieval princess. The opposite side of the room has a little sitting area with chairs and a fireplace.

  I get up out of bed and immediately groan and sit back down. Hangover it is, then. I notic
e a bottle of water next to the bed and I grab it and chug it, then pick up the note next to the bottle.

  Rose,

  I’m sorry to leave before you wake up, but I need to get to the office. Take your time getting to work. Your car is outside, and I had some clothes brought in for you.

  See you at work,

  Parker King

  As I hold the note, I slowly begin to remember bits and pieces from the night before. They come to me like snapshots of memories I didn’t know I had.

  Parker showing up to the bar.

  Flash.

  Getting in his car.

  Flash.

  Him carrying me to bed.

  Flash.

  His goodnight kiss on my forehead.

  Flash.

  I close my eyes and hold the note, trying to remember more. Did I say anything? Did I do anything? I know I didn’t throw myself at him and I know Parker didn’t take advantage of me. He’s not that kind of guy, and suddenly, I realize just how lucky I really am that he picked me up.

  Other people would not be as kind or as respectful.

  And I’m kind of stupid for drinking so much without a way to get home. The night could have ended so much worse than it did.

  I grab my purse, which is also on the nightstand, and I pull out my phone.

  Five missed calls from Stephanie.

  I need to call her back, but I also need to pee. Despite the hangover, despite the nausea that’s definitely going to attack me as soon as I stand up, I decide to risk it.

  I manage to get out of bed and head toward the bathroom. I call Stephanie back on my way across the bedroom.

  “You bitch!” She says, but there’s no malice in her voice.

  “Good morning to you, too,” I say.

  “What happened last night? Tell me everything.”

  “Um...did I text you?”

  “No!” She says. “You butt-dialed me and when I called you back, Parker answered the phone.”

  “Shit.”

  “No, he was really sweet,” she insists. “He told me you were going to spend the night and he gave me his personal cell number in case I got worried about you.”

  Of course, he did.

  Because he’s the perfect gentleman.

  Unfortunately, I have a feeling my drunken behavior last night not only ruined my chances of seducing Parker, but could quite possibly impact my position at work, as well. No, there was nothing in his note to indicate that he’s thinking of firing me, but let’s get serious: apparently, I’m untrustworthy.

  “I don’t remember anything,” I admit, walking into the gorgeous bathroom. It’s got a tub and a walk-in shower and not one, not two, but three sinks.

  And this is Parker’s guest room. It’s just one of many, I’m guessing, and suddenly, I hope I’m able to find my way out of his house and to the driveway. A girl could get lost in a place like this. Then again, I can’t say I would actually mind getting lost here.

  “Apparently, you were upset and went drinking alone. He was worried, so he followed you, and then, according to him, did what ‘any man who isn’t a total piece of shit’ would do. He took you back to his place and sent you straight to bed. Alone.”

  “Alone.”

  “How are you feeling?” Stephanie’s voice softens. I can hear people in the background, and I realize she’s already at work. I don’t even know what time it is.

  “Hungover,” I admit. “I’m sorry if I’m bugging you at work.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” she says. “And Rose?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Don’t over-think this. You haven’t ruined your chances. In fact, I think Parker might be a little bit into you.”

  “He didn’t even make a move last night.”

  “Exactly. If he wasn’t interested in you as a person, or interested in a relationship, he would have taken advantage of you, and he didn’t.”

  “He didn’t,” I repeat.

  She’s right.

  I don’t want to get my hopes up, but suddenly I wonder if Stephanie has been right all along. She’s always insisted that Parker and I were made for each other, but I always blew her off because, well, he’s Parker.

  He’s my boss.

  He’s fucking hot as hell and dirty and naughty and so far out of my league.

  “Listen,” I say, not ready to admit my friend is right. “You haven’t seen the women he dates. They’re thin, like really thin. They’re all models.”

  “And how many of them has he gone to rescue from a bar?”

  I can’t answer that.

  “And how many of them has he taken the time to put to bed alone?”

  I press my lips together.

  “And how many of them has he called their best friend to promise they’ll be all right?”

  I don’t say anything.

  “Rose, this guy cares more than you want to admit, honey, but I think he’s waiting for you to make the move. It’s all up to you now. The ball is in your court. What are you going to do with it?”

  That’s the big question, isn’t it?

  Am I going to pussy out again, the way I have with so many other things in my life?

  Or am I going to fight for Parker King?

  7––––––––Parker

  My entire morning flies by. I have four back-to-back meetings with investors and potential clients, followed by a hasty lunch in my office. Luckily, Christina thinks ahead and orders in. Otherwise, I’d be starving as I pour over paperwork and contracts on my own. I’m so lost in my work that I don’t have time to deal with phone calls or the two drop-in clients who don’t seem to find it necessary to schedule appointments. Usually, Rose handles all of those things, but I don’t want to force her to hurry in to work today.

  I want to let her take her time.

  Luckily, I have Christina here, too. I like Christina. She’s a great receptionist and she does a wonderful job with scheduling, but she’s not Rose and without my girl today, I feel a little lost. Part of me thinks I shouldn’t feel this way, yet I do. The two of us just have this incredible dynamic with one another. No matter what I’m thinking or feeling, she manages to help me handle it. She’s an expert juggler when it comes to dealing with the business, with my mood swings, and my chaotic plans.

  She’s not here, and we’re not a couple.

  I try not to think about her.

  Instead, I focus on making sure each contract is perfect and ready for afternoon meetings. At 1:00, I decide to call my housekeeper to make sure Rose woke up and isn’t trapped in the bathroom puking from a hangover. As I reach for the phone, though, the door opens, and she walks in.

  Rose walks in.

  And she looks like a fucking knockout.

  “You found the clothes,” I manage to say, eyeing the dress that’s much too tight, the dress that shows off far too many of her delicate curves.

  “I did. Thank you for thinking of me,” she says, and closes the door behind her. I notice she locks it, but I don’t say anything. Why is she locking the door?

  Then Rose walks over to me. She moves behind my desk and I turn my chair so she’s right in front of me.

  “I was hurt when you wouldn’t hang out with me,” she admits, and I’m surprised. She’s always been so private about her feelings, about the things she holds close to her heart. She’s not one to talk about when someone hurts her or makes her feel unimportant.

  “It wasn’t anything personal,” I say slowly.

  “You don’t think of me in a romantic way,” she says simply, and then she shrugs. “I get it. It’s no big deal. You can’t help who you like, right?”

  She raises an eyebrow. Then Rose looks at me, really looks at me, and I’m instantly hard.

  Is she saying what I think she’s saying?

  “Rose,” I stand up and place my hands on her waist. “What are you saying to me? Because I think what you’re saying is that you like me, not as your boss, but as your lover. Is that what you’re saying?”r />
  This can’t be right.

  It’s wrong on so many levels, but I want to believe that this is what she means, that this is what she wants.

  I want to believe that right now, Rose is super into this, into me, and that she’s ready for us to take things to the next level.

  She nods, and I don’t wait another second.

  I should.

  I should wait.

  I should make sure she’s certain, make sure she’s not just facing a lot of different emotions because she’s tired or because yesterday was crazy and long. I should make sure this is really what she wants, but I don’t because I know what I want.

  And what I want is her.

  I kiss Rose.

  I press my lips to hers, and I kiss her, dominate her, own her. Her fingers dig into my back as I kiss her like she’s the only woman in the world, like she’s the only one I see. I kiss her like nothing else matters, like I’m going to die without her on my lips.

  She lets out a soft groan and bites my bottom lip. I’m even harder now, even more aroused, and I know it’s not going to be long before we either have to stop or keep going. There will be no maintaining the status quo. There will be no continuing on with business as usual.

  There’s nothing usual about this.

  That’s the way it should be.

  She quivers as I kiss her and I know, just know, she’s as turned on by this as I am. I can sense it, feel it.

  “Parker,” she whispers my name, and I press harder against her. My entire cock is pressed against her belly. I know she can’t miss that, can’t miss the way she turns me on. I know she can’t miss what she does to me.

  “This is what you do to me, Rose. You turn me into an animal.”

  “You’re so hard,” she whispers. “I need you inside of me, Parker. I’ve wanted it for so long and now I just can’t wait anymore. Please, Parker. Please.”

  Please.

  She’s begging me for my cock.

  Rose, the sweet and innocent assistant, is begging for me to fuck her.