HazardsDare

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by Frances Stockton




  Hazard’s Dare

  Frances Stockton

  Hazard, talented linebacker for the Alexandria Griffins, is known for hard hits, record-breaking sacks, fast living and engaging in unconventional relationships. During a week off from football, he travels to Dare, Nevada, for some R and R and to hook up with a hot woman or two.

  When Avery, his agent’s sister, walks into the club wearing a wicked red dress, he’s not immune to her delectable charms. After several tequila shots, Avery invites him to her hotel room for a week of hot sex with no promise of commitment, and he gladly accepts.

  Of course they don’t expect their brief sexcapade to quickly turn into love—nor are they aware that someone dangerous has been stalking Avery’s family for years. Someone who’s about to strike. When Avery disappears, Hazard might lose the best thing he’s ever had. But not without a fight.

  A Romantica® contemporary erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave

  HAZARD’S DARE

  Frances Stockton

  Dedication

  To my mom, thank you for your unconditional love, support and encouragement. You are my inspiration every single day.

  Acknowledgements

  I would like to give a heartfelt thank you and salute to my readers everywhere. Your emails, Facebook comments, Twitter messages and input make writing fun.

  Author Note

  The Alexandria Griffins are a fictional professional football team, as are the teams they play and the league they play in. I’m a huge football fan and along with Quarterback Blitz, Field of Play, and now, Hazard’s Dare, it is my hope that I’ve shown my respect for all football players and the hard work they put into their careers.

  Chapter One

  Truth or Dare Club, Dare, Nevada—Late January

  For the first time in her life, Avery Grant felt like a woman.

  More than that, she felt like an attractive, sexy, vivacious woman ready to take on the Truth or Dare Club, with no one telling her what to do and no man to tell her to go back to her hotel room alone.

  But it was too late.

  She’d prepared for the evening by spending the day in a spa and getting a new hairstyle, complete with highlights and dark lowlights. Then she’d gone on a shopping spree to find a gorgeous red V-necked cocktail dress and six-inch stilettos.

  Currently, her dress was covered with a long red coat, but she’d shed it once she was inside the building. It was January, and even though she was in Nevada, there was a distinct chill was in the air.

  She hesitated for a minute or two, maybe three, recalling her friend Morgan Maddox’s phone call two hours ago. Morgan claimed that tonight would change Avery’s life because the man destined to be her soul mate would be at the Truth or Dare Club.

  Unfortunately, Avery didn’t believe it was possible.

  For one thing, she wasn’t looking for a soul mate or even a boyfriend.

  For another, she’d recently gotten herself out of a loveless relationship. Thank God she’d dodged the bullet when she realized her ex was a lying, cheating scum with no reason to be with her except former Senator Charles Grant’s political backing.

  No. She was looking for something else entirely, certainly not forever, and coming to Dare, Nevada, was the right place to be.

  The once-dilapidated Old West boomtown, nestled in a valley thirty minutes south of the Sierra Nevada Mountains, had been bought up by a quartet of the rich and famous, revamped and made into a mini-mecca for those who wanted to get away from everyday life and not get swallowed up by the craziness of Vegas…or the paparazzi.

  Not that the paparazzi was an issue in Avery’s life. After all, she was Charles Grant’s oldest daughter, the one considered to be a sensible bore. Compared to her sports agent brother, Alexander, and her younger sister, Charlotte, who was a promising US swim star, she lived an ordinary, scandal-free life.

  But as of tonight, she wasn’t following anyone’s rules anymore, except her own.

  Tucking her small red clutch purse under her arm, she squared her shoulders and stepped up to the door. Music could be heard from where she stood.

  Taking a deep breath right as the music faded and someone onstage announced the night’s special guest performer, Avery missed the man’s name because her cellphone went off in her purse.

  Grumbling, she scrambled to get the phone from the clutch purse, saw who called and immediately turned the thing off. She was not answering to her older brother tonight.

  He could wait. Her life couldn’t.

  Stuffing the phone out of the way and returning the purse under her arm, she pushed her way through the door, stopping to hand her coat off to a young man working the coat check closet.

  The man’s reaction when he saw her dress was priceless! With more confidence under her wings, she headed into the already crowded club.

  At first, she had to blink because it was dark inside, with typical club lights turned down low and a spotlight aimed toward the stage.

  And then the tantalizing riff of a guitar and a country singer’s voice trapped her right where she stood. “When you came in, the air went out…and every shadow filled up with doubt…I don’t know who you think you are, but before the night is through…I want to do bad things with you.”

  As the song made popular by Jace Everett and the TV show True Blood continued, Avery was completely taken in, seduced. Not only did the singer hit every note with a deep-voiced country drawl that was undeniably hot, she’d locked eyes with…him.

  Up on stage, guitar in hand, microphone in place, was Trevor Hazard Osbourne, middle linebacker for the Alexandria Griffins!

  And her secret crush. The man was the reason she was a football fan and a huge proponent of the defense!

  Suddenly, irrevocably, everything in her that was female went on red alert. Her heart pounded, her knees grew weak, her pussy awakened, leaving an aching reminder of how staid and nonexistent her sex life had been as of late.

  Hazard wasn’t just another football player with a badass reputation. He was known for his killer charm with the ladies, megawatt smile and was considered hazardous to any self-respecting offense’s chance of scoring in the red zone.

  And right now Avery was red hot! Hazard was not only incredibly good-looking, he had beautiful shoulder-length caramel brown hair that gave him a lion-sized personality and a body made for sin.

  Even from the slight distance, she could see that he was tall, broad and built. He had an ass made for squeezing and muscles made for crushing opponents. Aware of herself in a way that she’d never been before, she realized that she was dripping wet between her legs. To be crushed beneath a man like that would be incredible.

  Just like that, with a song and what she imagined was recognition in his eyes when he continued to sing to her, Avery was smitten.

  For a second, she thought of Morgan’s warning earlier that day. Could it possibly be that Hazard was the one?

  Oh, this was bad. She could handle keeping her crush a secret. It was just that Hazard—as he was called by teammates, media and football fans—was more than a crush. He was one of the athletes represented by her brother.

  Thinking maybe it’d be a good thing to exit gracefully, Avery took a step backward and stepped on the foot of the person behind her. Stilettos had to hurt his instep, even if he was wearing a nice pair of loafers!

  “Oh, I am very sorry,” she apologized.

  “It’s not a problem,” the man answered, catching her elbow and helping her to regain her balance. “This place is crowded tonight. Ever been here before, gorgeous?”

  Gorgeous? A man called her gorgeous? Turning her head and hoping like hell the guy was hot, she was struck by two things.

  He was undeniably handsome. And he was the polar opposite of what s
he’d come here for. Granted, he was clean cut, smelled great and his brown hair was ultra-short.

  He had nice blue eyes, a nice chin and a nice voice, altogether nice.

  She hadn’t come to the Truth or Dare Club for nice. She’d come for naughty.

  “No, I’m afraid I haven’t been here yet,” she answered, realizing it was rude to stare. If she was going to stare at anyone, she’d rather watch Hazard from afar.

  “That makes two of us. Name’s John, would you like to find a table?”

  “That’s very nice of you. But I’m meeting someone in a little bit.”

  “At least let me get you safely to the bar. The crowd watching the mini-concert is decidedly pushy.”

  “That’d be nice of you. Thank you for being so polite after I treaded on your foot. These shoes are new and take some getting used to.”

  “Didn’t feel a thing,” he insisted, making good on his promise to escort her across the room.

  She barely had the chance to appreciate the modernized replica of an Old West saloon. John nearly bowled through people to reach the bar. She tried to apologize, but by the time she got words out, she was dragged away.

  Deciding that she did not like John, she was glad when they reached the bar.

  “Thank you, John, for the escort. I’ve got it from here,” she said, homing in on a vacated stool made out of an old-fashioned barrel.

  “Let me order you a drink,” he insisted.

  “It’s not necessary. Really, I came to meet someone.”

  “Looked to me like you were alone when you walked in,” John commented.

  “That’s because my date’s currently up on stage,” she said, hoping John wasn’t good at detecting a fib.

  “He’s in the band?”

  “The singer, Hazard Osbourne, maybe you’ve heard of him?”

  “Afraid not, but I know when I’ve worn out my welcome. I hope he appreciates what he has, if he doesn’t, look me up.”

  John reached into his wallet, pulled out a business card, snagged a pencil from the bar, jotted something down and handed her the card before disappearing into the crowd.

  Avery checked the card. The front advertised John Redman was the owner of an independent film studio. On the back, he’d scribbled the name of his hotel and room number.

  Finding that presumptuous, Avery flicked the card across the bar with her finger, sending it flying straight into the back of the broad-shouldered, pale-blond bartender.

  “Oh my god, what’s gotten into me?” she asked herself out loud, thinking no one would hear because Hazard was still performing.

  Bad Things was over. He’d switched gears and sang something equally deep, equally compelling and sexy, Chris Isaak’s Wicked Game. All Avery could do was park her butt on the barrel and hope she hadn’t earned a kick in the caboose right out the door.

  The bartender turned, saw her sitting there, then bent down to retrieve the object that’d nailed him before coming up to her.

  “Hello, Red, this must be your first time in Truth or Dare,” he greeted with a curiously sexy tone of voice that sounded a little like he’d spent a lot of time in California.

  He smiled, and for a crazy second, Avery was transfixed on that smile because there was something about it that warned he could be a predator or a savior. His shoulder-length pale-blond hair was nearly white, with two dyed black streaks sweeping from a sharp widow’s peak.

  His face was, whoa, stunning. Smiling as he was, she saw even white teeth, but his canines looked suspiciously like fangs. If she didn’t know better, she’d think the bartender was a vampire or creature of the undead.

  “Um, hi, yes, this is my first time here. Could I get a margarita if I apologize for hitting you with my trash?”

  “Don’t worry about the card,” the bartender said as he tossed it in a trash can. “It’s not the first time a pretty lady got rid of an unwanted suitor the only way she could think of. What’s your name?”

  “Avery,” she answered honestly, unsure if it was wise, but she couldn’t retract it.

  “Welcome to Dare,” the bartender said, offering his hand. “My name’s Jaxon. I sure hope this isn’t your only visit to our cozy little town.”

  She shook his hand, finding that he had a strong, confident grip without being too forward or rude. “Thank you. Now that I’ve found it, I have the feeling Dare might become my new getaway spot.”

  “As it is for many who come here,” he said. “How do you like your margarita?”

  “On the rocks, with salt,” she answered.

  Jaxon mixed her drink and handed the quality-tequila-laden drink on the bar.

  “First one’s on me,” he said when she reached into her purse. “How about I start a tab for you while you wait until it’s safe to mingle? The guy who offered his room number is currently seated at a table with a direct line of sight to where you’re sitting.”

  “I didn’t like him much. There was something false in the way he flirted.”

  Jaxon looked around the room. “You don’t have to worry about him. If he bothers you again, I’ll have the bouncers take care of the situation.”

  Disliking the idea that she was being watched, she took a liking to Jaxon for offering to look after her if she needed it.

  “Thank you, Jaxon, I appreciate that you’re looking out for the newbie,” she said, taking a sip of her margarita. Perfect, with just the right amount of salt. The drink was exactly what she needed to calm her nerves. “This is good.”

  “Glad you like it. Enjoy the music. Considering it’s football season, we’re lucky to have Trevor Osbourne with us tonight. If country’s not your thing, illusionist Gabriel Krystiyan starts his show in the Truth or Dare Theater in about a half an hour.”

  “Gabriel Krystiyan? Wow, isn’t he a Vegas headliner?”

  “Yes, but Gabe’s one of us, one of Dare, I mean. When he’s home, he takes over the theater with his magic act that’s second to none.”

  “I’m in town for a week. I’ll be sure to catch one of his shows.”

  “But not tonight,” Jaxon said.

  “I’d rather enjoy this margarita and put in an order for a second.”

  Relaxing and finding the barrel she was sitting on surprisingly comfortable with its plush red leather cushion, she took another salt-laden sip and discovered the stool swiveled too.

  Fastening her eyes upon Hazard as his concert continued, she became absorbed in the moment, in him. Sure, he was a sex symbol known for playing hard but fair, on the field and off. Yet there was something compelling about him, something that had awakened her long-dormant sex drive.

  He was the perfect bachelor, loved being single, never professed to being a saint and her brother told her not long ago that Hazard had plans of becoming a country singer after his football days were over. By Alexander’s account, Hazard was intelligent, understood that he needed a career after football and chose his endorsement deals and fundraisers wisely.

  Suddenly noticing that Hazard seemed to be staring straight at her, Avery squirmed a little.

  There was no way that he could see her from the stage. The lights on the stage were a red, green and blue hodgepodge that showcased each member, a spotlight haloed him, letting the audience appreciate the way his talented fingers strummed the electric guitar.

  To Avery, it seemed as if he made the guitar sing, bringing it to life. That kind of talent was rare, that kind of passion was what she’d always longed for and could never have.

  Raised to be a good girl, she’d decided to put aside her ordinary image and be a little bad. Maybe Bad Things had been the right song to hear the second she’d walked into the Truth or Dare Club. Maybe the tequila in her drink was working its magic.

  Whatever it was, right then Avery was tempted by Hazard in a way she’d never known before, and they hadn’t even spoken yet.

  What were the chances he’d remember her anyway?

  The only time they’d met and spoken at length had been when her f
ather was in the hospital needing a kidney transplant. Like the hero he was, Alexander donated his kidney to save their father. But the stress of her father’s illness and discovering that her almost fiancé was a lecherous lout had taken its toll on Avery.

  She hadn’t been herself when she’d met Hazard. He’d been polite and friendly enough, but then Timothy had returned after taking a lengthy phone call from a client and started acting like a member of the Grant family and Hazard withdrew to talk to his friends.

  It could have been a few minutes of time that they actually spoke. She didn’t know. But something had shifted inside her when they shook hands, a spark had ignited, reminding her that she was indeed female and Trevor Hazard Osbourne was all male.

  Shortly after, her father and brother were taken into surgery and she didn’t see Hazard again. Once everyone knew the transplant was successful, the athletes left. And it’d taken several weeks afterward for Avery to tell her father she’d decided to break things off with Timothy.

  Though she’d gone in with evidence gathered by her one of her brother’s friends, PI Phalen Maddox, the shit had hit the fan. It was the first and only time she’d done anything against her daddy’s wishes.

  All her life, she’d tried to be a good daughter, to make choices in her career that would never put a negative light on her father or cause his opponents in the Senate to use her against him. When she’d told her dad about Timothy’s infidelity, he’d gone so far as to suggest that it was something she had to deal with, not run away from.

  Avery did try again. She and Timothy went on a few dates and she acknowledged she’d never been in love with him. She’d just been too chicken to admit it. Once she did, the reconciliation her father wanted never came to be.

  “Ready for that second drink, Red?” Jaxon offered, tapping her hand and pointing to her almost-empty glass.

  “Yes, please.”

  “You got it,” he said, flashing another glimpse of that vampire smile.

 

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