Dare

by Rowena

  “Kiara, I know our…history probably left a bad taste in your mouth, and I’d like to make up for that somehow.”

  “How?” I say almost accusatorially, and I realize how dangerously close to the surface my emotions still are.

  I make a conscious effort to steel myself.

  “Look, I made a terrible, selfish mistake back then, and I never stopped feeling bad about it. I couldn’t figure out how to fix it afterward and eventually decided it was just a hard lesson I had to learn from. Then I saw you on TV the other night and everything came back to me. Hard. And I saw an opportunity.”

  He stops for some reason, making me wonder where the hell this is really going.

  “I’ve been quite successful the past few years,” he continues, “and I’m now in a very…fortunate position. So yes, I’d be happy to make a substantial donation to your charity, but on one condition.”

  “Here we go,” I say, trying not to roll my eyes. An indecent proposal is surely upon me.

  “I’d like to hear more about the charity—and you—over the course of one week.”

  “I can just give you the gist now…”

  “I don’t want the gist. And I don’t want to hear anything about it today—I’d like to just soak you up right now; I can’t believe how much I’ve missed you.”

  What the hell am I supposed to do with that?

  “I mostly just want to catch up with you, Kiki. I consider you one of my oldest real friends and I always wondered what happened to you and hoped you were all right.”

  “Well, as you can see, everything turned out fine. Here I am, alive, healthy. Roof over my head, career going pretty well. I’m pretty happy overall…”

  “You didn’t mention anyone ‘special’ in that interview or even just now.”

  “Did I need to? That’s not my main goal or anything.”

  “So you’re definitely not seeing anyone.”

  I shake my head. “And I don’t plan to.”

  “Except for me, right? In a way.”

  “Boy, you are good, and I certainly appreciate your ‘honesty’ but how much are we talking here for this ‘substantial’ donation in exchange for a week of my time?”

  He pulls out a pen and writes a figure on the white napkin.

  My eyes nearly pop out of my head.

  Part of me was on the way to turning down his offer, but a number like that would be so good for the cause!

  But I’m not prostituting myself for a goddamn cause.

  Still, I can’t just turn down money like that…

  “What are you thinking?” he asks after I’ve been silent for a while, going back and forth in my head.

  Saying yes to seeing him again for any reason would be a terrible idea.

  I thought I’d gotten over him for the most part, but being a foot or two away from him has shown me how wrong I was.

  I totally thought I’d healed—that I’d simply ended up with a scar, but it was a scab and seeing him today ripped it right off.

  I feel like an open wound again.

  I can’t trust myself around this guy!

  Not till I’ve gotten hold of myself somehow.

  “The amount I wrote down, that’s how much I’m willing to donate today. Each day you go out with me over the course of a week, I will add another two hundred and fifty thousand to it.”

  Christ.

  The server arrives with our orders, and I kind of already know I’m screwed; there’s no way I’m turning such a blessing down.

  “How many days are you hoping for?”

  “Every day would be awesome. But you and I are both busy people. so I’m hoping you can see me at least four times over the course of the week. I’ll take you to dinner first, and you can tell me all about the charity—what sparked your interest, why it’s so important to you, etc. I’ll also want to hear about your journey to the entertainment industry—how you went from pediatrician hopeful to budding singing star.” He half-chuckles. “I never would’ve predicted it—you ‘out there’ like this.”

  I smile. “And you…wait, what is it you do? How did you get so loaded?”

  “That’s one of those things you’ll learn over the course of our…reacquaintance. So what do you say?”

  “Don’t you dare expect anything sexual.”

  “I would never.”

  “Yeah, right. I’m serious, Liam—this is strictly business when it’s not two old friends catching up; I’m not whoring myself out for a cause.”

  “Okay.”

  “Promise me.”

  “You sure drive a hard bargain, Kiki. I promise not to…what was it again?”

  “Keep your hands off me.”

  “I promise to keep my hands to myself,” he says solemnly.

  I definitely don’t believe him, but he’ll at least try. He promised he would!

  “No dates out of state or anywhere I can be trapped with you, at your mercy.”

  “Are you trying to turn me on?” he asks in a way that jars my core awake.

  What the heck was that?

  “Seriously—no yachts, planes, or helicopters. Anything questionable and I bail. You can shove your cash.”

  “I’ll behave myself,” he says in a way that gives me the impression he only said half the sentence. “Tell me something,” he continues in a quieter, smoother tenor, “are you waiting for someone?”

  Um, why the hell is he looking at me like that?

  “Uh…not particularly.” Don’t tell him that! “Oh, you mean, like marriage? Yeah, sure. Definitely.”

  His slow, wicked smile lets me know I failed miserably to hide whatever I was trying to hide, but he’s gentleman enough not to call me out on it.

  I can’t leave things like that—it is of the utmost importance I convince him of my words or else he’ll think there’s some sort of loophole! And this guy is slick.

  “I mean, maybe not marriage per se, but I don’t take such a thing lightly. I imagine it would be a natural step in a serious relationship, which I’m definitely not looking for at this time; I’m focused on my career.”

  That’s it! Good girl.

  “Well, as I said—I’ll be happy just to reacquaint myself with your warm spirit.”

  He grabs one of my hands and brings the back of it close to his lips.

  “Is this allowed?” he asks, his breath tickling my flesh.

  I nod slightly and he kisses the back of my hand like some knight lost in time.

  “I look forward to catching up with you, Kiara.”

  No matter what I try to tell myself, so am I.

  The back of my hand tingles until I start my car.

  7 years ago…

  “Are you planning to go to prom?” Liam asks, looking up from his notebook, his pencil paused.

  “Nope.”

  “Why not?”

  I shrug. “What would be the point? I have no date, the casual friends I have at school will be there with their dates and probably trying their hardest to get laid. I have no squad to hang out with or anything. Why put myself through that? Show up just to be lonely? Ignored? Or even sneered at? It’s not exactly prime time to make new besties, and definitely not the place for a love connection. Not for me, anyway.”

  “What if I’m there?”

  “Well, I assumed you’d be there. Why wouldn’t you be? What difference would it make?”

  “I mean with you.” He puts his pencil down and takes my hand, and my heartbeats speed up. “I’m asking you to prom, Kiki. Will you go with me? Consider it a sort of ‘out’ party for us.”

  My breaths are coming so hard and fast, I can barely push the words out. “What do you mean?”

  “I’m ready to let everyone know we’re together because aren’t we? We’ve been sort of dancing around it lately. So what do you say? Will you, as my new girlfriend, accompany me to prom?”

  “Oh my god, yes! Of course! Are you sure?”

  “That I want you? And want to go with you? And let everyone know a
bout us? Fuck yeah.”

  The kiss he plants on me keeps my knees weak for days.

  Tonight’s the night.

  I’m not doing it because so many other people probably are—losing your virginity on prom night is so cliché.

  It just seems like the perfect time because I actually want Liam. Badly.

  I can’t believe how horny he makes me!

  There’s a fire burning inside me that only Liam Cox can put out, and I can’t wait.

  I’m also thrilled he’s finally letting everyone know about us—I always felt he was embarrassed to be seen with me, and that’s why he kept what was growing between us a secret.

  And sure, some people will think he’s being charitable and brought his tutor to prom to be nice since she probably didn’t have any other offers—I didn’t, by the way—and he’ll show them, the way he’ll be by my side and hold my hand. The way he’ll dance with me. He might even kiss me in front of all of them. No one will have anything to say after that!

  Without me, he would’ve been Prom King, but they probably won’t give it to him with me on his arm.

  But it won’t matter to either of us…

  “Are you serious?” my mom practically screeches when I call her with the news. “That same asshole who broke your heart? I was there, remember? I had to pick up the pieces when he stood you up.”

  “I know, mom, but this isn’t like that. I mean, I’m sure his intentions aren’t pure, and he’s hoping to get further than before since he let me slip away, but I have no intention of letting him.”

  “Oh, really? And how is it you’re fortifying yourself against him? Do you still have feelings for him?”

  I was about to say no, but I realize I’d be lying.

  Yesterday, I would have been able to say it with no problem, fully believing I was totally over him, but after seeing him today, it’s pretty clear I’ve been deluding myself.

  “Yes,” I answer quietly.

  “I don’t even need to ask my followup question. That alone means you’re walking on dangerous ground, Kiki! And he’s rich now?” She lets out a short breath. “You have no idea what you’re dealing with. He had girls eating out of his hand back then, and I can only imagine how much his game has improved now. And he pretty much already gave you the heads up he wants you, so regardless of what he promised you, he’s not gonna back off. He’s coming for you, Kiki; gird your loins.”

  That makes me burst into laughter.

  Either because of its inherent silliness or because I know she’s right and I’m nervous as hell that I let myself walk into Liam’s trap and needed to release some of that anxious energy.

  Either way, I’m not too concerned about Liam’s plan just yet.

  He’ll behave for at least the first date or two, and that might be enough time for me to fortify my armor against him.

  4

  Liam

  I thought I’d gotten socked in the gut when I saw Kiara on TV, but watching her head toward me at brunch, completely oblivious to my intended gentle ambush rattled me beyond belief.

  She looked so beautiful and still so sweet—neither I nor the industry has ruined her, it seems.

  Both my heart and cock throbbed, aching for more of her.

  I realize I have a shot too, the way she looked at me once she recognized me.

  It wasn’t just surprise that hit her—she and I both are not quite done with each other.

  If I push a little, I have no doubt I can get what I want—at least, one part of it—but I don’t only want to be the one to deflower the beautiful starlet; this isn’t totally about proving to my brother yet again that no woman is too complicated for me to win.

  I actually do want to see if Kiara and I can have something again. Something lasting.

  I call Logan once Kiara and I part ways.

  “And we’re officially on.”

  “That was quick.”

  “What can I say? There’s always a weakness to exploit and in her case, it’s her charity. She’ll be going out with me for the upcoming week or so and I’ll hand over a huge donation to it. Our first real date is tomorrow evening.”

  “Awesome. Let me know the deets.”

  I certainly will not.

  “I…” I almost informed my brother that this isn’t just a fun distraction; I was on the verge of letting him know I have a second chance, an opportunity to right a wrong, a shot at something real.

  But I decide against it.

  What if it doesn’t work out in my favor?

  I’d rather not give him fodder to make fun of me.

  He won’t realize how much it could actually be hurting me not to be with her, to have lost the only girl I ever really wanted.

  I’ll play it casually as long as I can—especially since it still hasn’t hit him who she is.

  “I’ll keep you posted,” I say.

  Monday

  Kiara let me pick her up this evening—her first mistake.

  Mine too.

  I feel like I might have felt all those years ago, pulling up to her residence in a stretch limo, waiting to see her beautiful face and how she fills out her dress. And definitely looking forward to being in romantic closed quarters with her.

  Regret hits me hard unexpectedly as sense memories take over from seven years ago.

  I felt bad when I left her hanging, of course, and I eventually regretted it but I got pretty busy partying hard with the crew I decided to hang out with instead.

  It wasn’t long before what I’d done became a black cloud over my head, and no matter how much fun I was having with my social peers, I couldn’t shake the guilt over standing Kiki up; I sensed that I’d made a terrible mistake.

  Not that it wasn’t obvious—lying about needing to bow out due to illness at the last minute and then showing up with someone else is objectively a dick move.

  And it’s not like I laid low while there—the girl and me were even crowned Prom King and Queen so lots of photos circulated.

  I tried to reach Kiki the next day and the day after that to apologize, part of me still believing she might forgive me and we could keep dating, but she made it pretty clear she wanted nothing more to do with me and didn’t want to see or hear from me again.

  She de-friended me wherever possible, and I understood her withdrawal completely.

  I ended up busying myself with the sort of things that eventually made me rich, and soon, I was caught up in the spoils of a different kind of life.

  Now here we are again, and I followed through with actually showing up this time.

  I’m in a suit and I’ve brought flowers, and we have all sorts of beverage options available to us.

  We’ll be in closed quarters with lots of space for all sorts of things.

  But I know I must behave, and I keep reminding myself of that.

  I take Kiara seriously when she says she’ll bail if I make her uncomfortable, so tonight, at least, I’ll work on making her relax.

  I text to let her know I’m here, then exit the stretch car to stand outside and wait for her.

  She told me she’d come to me, making it pretty clear she didn’t want me to meet her at her door.

  Fear of me inviting myself inside one way or another, I guess.

  I don’t blame her.

  I can control myself, but I sense parts of me on an edge, as if I’m walking some sort of tightrope.

  I’m usually in complete control, but Kiara throws me off, and my feelings for her are so intense, I can’t quite rein myself in as easily.

  She has every right to fear I’ll walk her backwards into her apartment, shutting and locking the door behind me, fully intent on seducing her.

  I look up at the sound of a door closing and see her locking it.

  My eyes stay on her as she heads down the stairs toward me in a flattering red dress, her hair down in waves, her face fully made up.

  And she’s wearing heels! And gold jewelry! And carrying a clutch!

  It’s wildly am
using yet torturous to see Kiki this way.

  She was a wonderful, lovely creature before, and now she’s serving sex appeal in heaps.

  I feel sort of possessive of her, though I know I have no claim to her after what I did and after all this time, but I plan to change that very soon.

  “I’m sorry, but this just isn’t fair,” I tell her as she approaches me. “You can’t show up looking like that and expect me not to want to… do all sorts of things to you. Maybe you should dress yourself down when coming to see me.”

  “Thank you,” she says as if I was just paying her a compliment instead of genuinely warning her.

  “I’m serious, Kiara. I will keep my hands to myself as much as I can, but I can’t be responsible for any short-circuiting.”

  She just laughs, thinking I’m just laying it on thick, I guess.

  Keep it up, Kiki! You’ll get something thick all right.

  I open the door for her and watch as she tries to enter the back of the limo with her dignity intact.

  She does a pretty good job, but the dress is fairly short, and she gave me a great image of her bending over, one I can use in a fantasy later.

  I follow her inside and we settle in on the leather seats.

  Kiara smells absolutely divine, and she looks scrumptious, so my cock is awake.

  She has no fucking idea how much danger she’s in.

  I clear my throat.

  Behave yourself, Liam.

  “You look stunning,” I say.

  “You’ve said that, like, three times already.”

  “Nah, I was warning you the first two times. Don’t tempt me.”

  “You really think I shouldn’t look nice for a fancy dinner? And who says this is for you? I’ll be surrounded by people dressed appropriately for the occasion and I’d like to blend in as much as I can. You want me in overalls and thick glasses or something?”

  “Well, obviously no—not that. But then again, your fashion sense back then didn’t work for very long, did it? I still…”

  Watch it. You’ve gone this long without admitting it. To her and to yourself.