Truth Or Dare

by Lori Foster

  Cameron grunted. “You’re almost naked. You’re excited and wet and hot, and I’ve been hard since the day I first saw you.”

  She blinked uncertainly. “You’re saying you didn’t want to swat me?”

  Hands on his hips, he leaned down, nose to nose with her. “There are a lot of things I’d rather do to your beautiful naked ass than spank it.”

  She half turned away, then back. Watching him with suspicion, and what appeared to be sensual curiosity, she asked, “Like what?”

  Cameron took a small step forward, furtherclosing the gap between them. In a lower, more controlled but gravelly voice, he said, “Like pet you, and kiss you—”

  “My behind?”

  “Hell, yes.” Moving slowly, he reached out and caught her shoulders. “I can’t imagine any man alive not wanting to kiss your behind.”

  She giggled at the wording, but flushed at the meaning. “My husband would have never considered …”

  He released her so fast, he almost tripped. “Husband?”

  “Ex-husband.”

  Clutching his heart, Cameron said, “Thank God.” It took him a second to recover from that panic. He hadn’t heard anything about her being married. “So you’re divorced?”

  “Yes.”

  “You still care about him?”

  She laughed, which was a better answer than a straight out “no,” but she gave him that too.

  “I stopped caring about him almost as soon as I said, ‘I do.’ Unfortunately, it took longer than that for me to admit it to everyone else and to get the divorce.”

  He didn’t want to talk about any idiot ex-husband. Holding her shoulders again, he said, “Know what I want to do?”

  Her hand lifted to his crotch, cuddled his cock warmly. Her smile was sweet and enticing. “I can maybe guess.”

  He drew a deep breath. “You’re willing?”

  “No more hitting?”

  Cameron kissed her. “It took all my concentration to get it done the first time. Believe me, it wasfor you, for what I thought you wanted. Not for me.”

  She looked touched by his gesture. “Then, yes, I’m willing.”

  Disinclined to take the chance that she might change her mind, Cameron lifted her in his arms and started for his bedroom. “I promise to make it up to you,” he said. And he meant it. Now that he could think clearly, he’d know to concentrate on her responses, not on the dumb conversation he’d overheard. But that made him think of something else.

  “Can I ask you a question?”

  “That is a question,” Asia replied, but she didn’t sound put out. She was too engrossed in his chest, caressing his chest hair, finding his nipples and flicking them with her thumbnail until his knees nearly buckled.

  Cameron quickly sat on the edge of the bed, Asia braced in his arms. He kissed her, then against her mouth asked, “Why did you require I buy that stupid tape?”

  She tucked her face into his throat while she explained her theories—dumb ones, Cameron thought privately—and when she’d finished, she looked up at him.

  “My ex-husband was forever trying to force me to do … kinky things that turned him on. He said it was the only way I could satisfy him. I didn’t like it, and then he’d be angry about it and call me a prude and a cold fish. I used to wish he’d get his jollies that way with a movie or a book.” She shrugged. “I wanted us to just make love, like two people who …”

  Cameron squeezed her, wishing he had herdamned ex close at hand so he could offer her retribution. But all he could do was say, “Like two people who loved each other?”

  She gave a tiny nod. “Yes.” Then she shocked the hell out of him by adding, “I haven’t been with anyone since him. I needed to prove to myself first that I was independent, that I didn’t believe all his garbage about me not being woman enough. He made me feel so low, and in my head, I knew he was a jerk. I knew he was wrong, too. But no man tempted me.”

  “Not even me,” Cameron admitted, more for himself than her. He’d gained a lot of insight tonight, and most of it broke his heart. He’d handled things all wrong. Asia hadn’t wanted him. She hadn’t wanted any man.

  She’d only needed validation, and instead he’d shot down her beliefs by spanking her. Damn, he was a real idiot.

  Asia touched his jaw. “That’s not true.” She bit her lip, then let out a breath. “I think if it had been anyone other than you in that store, I wouldn’t have had the guts to go through with it. But it was you, and I liked you already, and respected you a lot.”

  “You hid it well,” he teased, shaken with relief.

  “That’s because I wanted you, too, though I was afraid to admit it. It scared me to want someone again.”

  With a trembling hand, Cameron stroked her throat, her shoulder, her breasts. “Let me show you that there’s nothing to be afraid of, sweetheart. Let me show you how it should be.” How it’ll always be between us.

  “Yes.” Asia closed her eyes on a soft moan. “I think I’d like that.”

  Like a lick of fire, Cameron’s kisses burned her everywhere. With incredible gentleness, he tilted her back on the bed and half covered her. She loved the tingling abrasion of his chest hair over her sensitive nipples. She loved the exciting, not-so-gentle stroke of his hand on her body. He seemed to know exactly how and where to touch her. And he found sensitive places she hadn’t known about—the delicate skin beneath her ears, her underarms, below her breasts, the insides of her thighs and backs of her knees.

  He kissed her, but not where she wanted his mouth most. Her breasts ached for him, her nipples so tight they throbbed with need, but he kissed around them, his tongue flicking out, leaving damp patches on her heated skin. He kissed her belly, tongued her navel until she squirmed, then put tiny pecks all around her sex, not touching her, but she heard him breathing deeply, inhaling her musky scent with appreciation.

  She moaned, then caught her breath as he turned her onto her stomach.

  “Easy,” he whispered, his mouth brushing over her shoulders, down the length of her spine. He caught her panties and stripped them off. Through dazed eyes, Asia looked over her shoulder and saw him lift them to his face and inhale deeply. He gave a rough, growling groan of appreciation, and when his gaze met hers, his blue eyes burned like the hottest fire.

  As promised, he kissed her bottom, especially the pink handprint on her left cheek. He murmured words of apology but she barely heard them because his hand slipped between her thighs. His long fingers just barely touched her, teasing and taunting while his mouth continued, so very gentle, so careful.

  She couldn’t hold still. She pressed her face into the bedclothes and squirmed. “Cameron.”

  He turned her over again, and this time when his fingers went between her thighs he parted her and pressed his middle finger deep.

  Her hips lifted sharply off the mattress and she cried out.

  “Asia,” he whispered huskily. “Baby, I want to watch you come again.”

  Oh, God, she thought, almost frantic with need. How was she supposed to answer that demand?

  He didn’t give her a chance to worry about it. He lowered his head and sucked her nipple into the moist heat of his mouth. His tongue curled around her and he drew on her, even as his finger began sliding in and out.

  She moaned and gasped and clutched at the sheets on his bed. Cameron switched to her other breast, licking, plucking with his lips. She braced herself, but he took her by surprise with his teeth, catching her tender nipple and tugging insistently.

  “Oh, God.”

  “Open up for me, Asia,” he whispered, and worked another finger into her. “Damn, you’re snug.”

  He had large hands, she thought wildly, feeling herself stretched taut, but with his tongue licking her nipple she didn’t have time to worry about it.

  He kept moving his hand, deep, harder, and the rough pad of his thumb pressed to her clitoris, giving a friction so sweet she screamed. Her muscles clamped down on the invading, sliding
fingers and she shook with an orgasm so powerful she went nearly insensate.

  When she was able to breathe again, she realized Cameron had moved and now had his head resting low on her belly, his arm around her upper thighs. With a lot of concentration, she lifted a hand and threaded her fingers through the cool silk of his dark hair. “That was …” Words were beyond her. How could she describe such a remarkable thing?

  “Very nice,” he answered, and she felt his breath on her still-hot vulva. Her legs were obscenely sprawled, she realized, but when she started to close them, he shushed her and petted her back into the position he wanted.

  He turned his face inward and kissed her belly, then pressed his cheek to her pubic hair. “I love your scent,” he growled, and Asia knew his arousal was razor sharp, that once again he’d skipped his own pleasure for her.

  “Cameron,” she chided gently, and some insidious emotion too much like love, squeezed at her heart. He kept saying her name, giving to her, pleasing her. He didn’t take her for granted. She wasn’t just an available woman. He wanted her.

  “Bend your knees for me, love,” he said.

  Asia blushed at just the thought, and the pleasure of being called “love.” She shifted her legs slightly farther apart.

  He pulled them wider, bent her knees for her. He stroked his fingers through her curls, tweakedone, smoothed another. “You’re beautiful,” he said, looking at her too closely. “All pink and wet and swollen. For me.”

  She tipped her head back, staring at the ceiling and trying not to groan. But she was fully exposed to him, overly sensitive from her recent release, and it was unbearably erotic even while mortification washed over her.

  Cameron repositioned himself directly between her thighs, urging them wider still so that they accommodated his broad shoulders. Using his thumbs, he opened her even more and just when she thought she couldn’t bear it another second, he lowered his head and his rough velvet tongue lapped the length of her, up to but not quite touching her clitoris.

  Her hips rose sharply off the bed as her back bowed and the breath in her lungs escaped in a rush. “Cameron.”

  He licked again, and again. His mouth was scalding, his tongue rasping against already aroused tissues. Asia gripped the sheets, trying to anchor herself, trying to keep still, but she strained against him, wanting and needing more.

  He teased and tasted her everywhere except where she most wanted to feel the tantalizing flick of his tongue. “Please,” she barely whispered.

  And with a soft groan, he drew her in, suckling at her clitoris, nipping with his teeth. Asia moaned with the unbelievable pleasure of it, her entire body drawing tight and then melting on wave after wave of sensation.

  She didn’t know she’d cried until she felt Cameron kissing the tears from her cheeks, murmuring softly, reassuringly—and sinking deep into her body with a low, long groan.

  “Oh,” she said, and got her eyes to open.

  “Hi,” he whispered, withdrawing inch by inch, and then pressing in again. He filled her up, stretched her already sensitive vulva unbearably, and the friction was incredible.

  Dark color slashed his cheekbones and his blue eyes burned with an inner fire, intense and wild and tender.

  “You’re making love to me,” she said, awed and a little overwhelmed because she’d thought her body was spent, as boneless as oatmeal. Yet she couldn’t stop herself from countering his every move.

  “I’m making love with you,” he corrected.

  “But I’m not doing anything,” she said, thinking of all the ways she should have kissed him and touched him in turn.

  His beautiful smile made her heart do flip-flops. “You’re you—that’s all you need to do.”

  “Cameron.” She lifted limp arms to wrap around his neck and squeeze him tight. He kissed her lax mouth, and she felt his smile and kissed him back.

  After a minute or two of that, she felt the need to shift and did, only to find the one position that really gratified was wrapping her legs around his waist.

  He groaned, then drove a tiny bit harder, farther into her, until it was both an awesome pleasure and a small pain, a joining so complete that she was a part of him, and he of her.

  She answered his groan with a gasp, her hips lifting into his, urging him on.

  “That’s it,” he said, and cupped her buttocks in his hands, working her against him, his face a fierce study of concentration.

  Incredibly, the feelings began to well again, taking her by surprise with the suddenness of it. “It can’t be,” she said.

  And he said, “Hell, yes,” and started driving fast and deep and faster still.

  Asia tightened her hold on him, overwhelmed with it all as she experienced yet one more orgasm, this one deeper, slower, longer, not as cataclysmic, but still so sweetly satisfying she wanted to shout aloud with the pleasure of it.

  No sooner did she relax than Cameron rubbed his face into her throat and began his own orgasm. She heard his rumbling growl start low in his chest, felt the fierce pounding of his heart, the light sweat on his back and the heat that poured off his naked body.

  “Asia,” he groaned, and his body shuddered heavily, then collapsed on hers.

  Too lethargic to move, Asia managed a pucker to kiss his ear, then dozed off.

  Ten minutes later, Cameron levered himself up to look at her. She snored softly, making him grin like the village idiot, and she looked beautiful, melting his heart. Mine, he thought with a surge of possessiveness that took him by surprise. Asia Michaels was his, in every sense of the word.

  As gently as possible, he disengaged their bodies and removed the condom. He doubted she’d even noticed when he’d rolled it on, she’d been so spent. Smiling, he located the sheet at the foot of the bed. Asia stirred, rolling to her side and curling up tight from the chill of the air.

  The lights were still on and he could see the fading imprint of his hand on her soft bottom. He closed his eyes, wanting to groan but not wanting to awaken her. What an ass he’d been.

  Tomorrow they’d talk more, he’d tell her how he felt and give her the bracelet, and with any luck at all, she’d understand.

  He reached over and flipped off the lights. She turned toward him, snuggled close, and resumed snoring.

  Oh, yeah, she was his all right. Now he just had to let her know that.

  Chapter Six

  Asia stirred, smiling even before her eyes were open, and feeling good—achy but good—all the way down to her toes. Cameron O’Reilly. Wow. The man really knew how to make love.

  She rolled to her side and reached for him, but found only cold sheets. Jerking up in an instant, she looked around, but he was gone. Her discarded clothes from the night before were now neatly folded over a chair, waiting, it seemed, for her to get dressed.

  The blankets, which had been irreparably tossed during their lovemaking, were now straightened and smoothed over her, keeping her warm.

  She looked out the wide window and saw snow and more snow, and a sun so bright it hurt her eyes.

  She groaned. It was two days till Christmas Eve. Of course, the man had things to do, yet she’d slept in. In his bed. Inconveniencing him.

  Humiliation rolled over her. Some independent broad she turned out to be. She’d spent the nightwhen she hadn’t even been invited. What must he think? Was he wondering how to get rid of her?

  She’d just shoved the covers aside and slipped one naked leg off of the bed, shivering at the touch of cool air on her bare skin, when Cameron opened the door. He paused, standing there in nothing more than unsnapped jeans and a healthy beard shadow. His blue eyes were sharp and watchful.

  As if shaking himself, he continued into the room and said, “Good morning.”

  Asia didn’t want to meet his gaze, but she refused to be a coward. Attempting a smile, she said, “Give me a minute to get dressed and I’ll get out of your way.”

  Strange after the night of incredible, uninhibited sex, but she suddenly felt na
ked. Cameron didn’t help, staring at her with blatant sexual interest. She could use the sheet from the bed, but again, that seemed cowardly. She had no modesty left, not with this man.

  “I’m cooking breakfast,” he said. “I was hoping you’d stay and eat with me.”

  She held her dress in her hands. It was tangled, the sleeves inside out, and wrinkled almost beyond repair. She stared at it stupidly, not even sure where to start.

  Cameron pushed away from the dresser and took the dress, tossing it aside. He retrieved a flannel robe from his closet and held it out to her.

  Not seeing too many options, especially since her brain refused to function in any normal capacity, Asia slipped her arms into the robe. Cameron wrapped it around her, tied the belt and rolled up the sleeves.

  “It makes me hot,” he said, “to see you in my things.”

  Asia stared at him. Her mouth opened, but nothing came out.

  “Almost as hot,” he continued when she stayed mute, “as it made me to wake up this morning with you in my bed, warm and soft.” He touched her cheek. “I could wake up like this a lot, Asia.”

  Thrown for an emotional loop, she started to turn away, but Cameron caught her arm and led her out of the room. “I’m fixing bacon and I don’t want it to burn.”

  His apartment was slightly smaller than hers, with a kitchen-dinette combination. Asia sat at the thick pine table and watched Cameron complete the meal. Barefoot and bare chested, he moved around the small kitchen with domestic ease. Her ex-husband had never cooked. He didn’t even know how to boil water.

  Cameron’s hair was still disheveled, hanging over his brow with a rakish appeal. Muscles flexed in his shoulders and arms and down his back as he bent this way and that, turning bacon, pouring juice, as he turned to wink at her occasionally, or smile, or just gaze.

  He asked her if fried eggs were okay, and how she liked her toast.

  Asia answered more by rote than anything else. With the memories of the night, and Cameron in the kitchen looking sexy as the original sin, food was the farthest thing from her mind. But when he set her plate in front of her, she dug in.