The Dare

by Lauren Landish

  I line up my aim again, double checking my form. Under my breath, I whisper, “Oh, I intend to.”

  I swing, and the ball sails toward the windmill. It looks like I have a real shot at a hole in one, and I’m already half-celebrating my win when the fan speeds up with the bit of non-mechanical wind in the air. My ball hits the blade at the last possible moment and bounces off.

  “Ooh, he almost had it in but was re-jec-ted. Harsh, that one’s gotta hurt.” Elle’s back to her sportscaster voice, but she lines up her own shot. She’s also unsuccessful.

  We both try again, and then again. Finally, my fourth shot goes in. Unless she makes hers and ties us, I’ve won.

  She steps her feet as wide as her dress will allow her, gripping her club loosely in her hands. She looks to the windmill, judging her distance and aim, and adjusts one more time. From the angle where I stand, I can tell she’s off, but it almost seems like she did that . . . on purpose?

  She knocks the ball, and it rolls wide, nowhere near the windmill.

  I’m on her in an instant, holding my club behind her back to cage her to me. “Did you let me win, Elle? Was that for pity or because what you really want, deep down, is to come home with me?”

  Her teeth dent her bottom lip, and I kiss her gently to soothe the slight nervous tell. “No pressure. We’re playing at playing here, but I would like to take you home with me.”

  “To organize your closet or clean your toilet?” she whispers with the corners of her mouth starting to tilt up.

  I duck down, my lips oh, so close to that ear I want to suck and bite. I settle for nuzzling it. “No, to spread you out on my bed and trace every inch of your body with my tongue. To slip my fingers inside you and find what drives you wild. To slam into you hard and fierce as your tits bounce with every thrust of my cock into your sweet heaven. To hear my name on your lips as you come apart for me, shattering into pieces beneath me.”

  Her breath is a rapid staccato against my ear, and I revel in the tiny whimper I hear deep in her throat.

  “You’re still my boss. And there’s this whole HQ2 thing with my dad.” Her protests are weak, excuses running through her fingers like sand in the face of the desire enveloping us.

  I can understand the argument. Hell, I could make it myself because I have just as much to lose here. She could report me to HR. She might still be a spy. I don’t care in the slightest. I just care about getting inside her—body and mind.

  “Both of those are true. I still want you, but only if that’s what you want too, Elle. I dare you . . . to decide where we go from here.”

  Chapter 11

  Elle

  His eyes bore into mine, with no subterfuge, just raw desire. I can feel the same echoing through my blood.

  Is this a dare I dare to accept?

  So many thoughts run through my mind at the same time, a tornado of ‘what-ifs’ and ‘then-whats’ that make me dizzy as chaos reigns inside me. I’m not wrong that this could be the most dangerous dare I ever take, both professionally and personally.

  Big risks, big rewards, I think.

  Big dick, Devil-Tiffany interjects, reminding of the hard ridge of cock Colton pressed against me as he helped me aim my mini-golf shots. There’s definitely nothing miniature about him.

  I shouldn’t make a decision like this based on dick, though, or at least not solely on dick, right? But fire is working its way through my veins, not just hot but bubbly and bright. If I do this, I know exactly what’s going to happen, and I want that too.

  Let the chips fall where they may.

  He waits patiently, watching my every thought flash across my face. I’m not exactly known for my poker face, unless it’s lying about a dare, so there’s no telling what he sees.

  Even as I think, I know what I’m going to do. I’ve been waiting for his attention for years and now I have it. It’s uglier and more complex than I wish it were, but I’m not going to lose this opportunity any more than I’m going to sit around at work and let the big boys play while I watch.

  That’s not who I am, a sideline sitter. I’m a jump into the open waters of the dark ocean at midnight with no life vest kind of girl. Even if I can only doggie paddle, metaphorically speaking. Cannonball!

  “Let’s go,” I say with a smile as I push on his chest. “But you’d better not disappoint. I’m gambling big here, Wolfe, so you’d better make it worth it.”

  I aim for lightheartedness, but there’s a note of truth to the words. I’m risking a lot here, maybe even more than he is, given our roles at work and the complication my dad adds to the equation.

  He lets me off the hook kindly, another point in his favor. “I’ll make it so worth it, love.”

  “Love?” I question, one brow raised sharply. “Is that what you call your harem?”

  He laughs loudly. “Harem? Do people even use that word anymore? And what makes you think I have a harem?”

  That devil on my shoulder must be to blame for what pops out of my mouth. “Big dick energy.”

  Colton’s mouth drops open for a moment, gaping like a fish, and I like that I’ve shocked him speechless. Especially when he starts shoving me out to the parking lot toward his Lotus. “Let’s go.”

  Each block that passes as we wind our way deeper downtown ratchets up the tension between Colt and me.

  His hand strokes up and down my leg, from knee to the edge of my thigh highs, leaving a trail of heated tingles. “Do you wear stockings often?”

  “Why, do you like them?” I ask, trying not to whimper as his fingers move a little further between my thighs before stroking back down.

  “Fucking love them,” he grits out, and I store that away in my deck of cards to use in my favor. Colton’s finger reaches my knee and then turns around, making the return trip to high on my thigh. “Any other surprises under here?”

  “Hmm . . . play your cards right and you might find out,” I promise him.

  Colton’s answering smile is full of hope. “I can’t wait to see what you dare me to do.”

  It sounds like he means it, and I feel like we’re in this together. Adventures to a new land. Maybe I’ll call it Elle-topia because Colton-topia is too much of a mouthful. I can’t help the adolescent giggle that I hope he’s a mouthful.

  Though, I might dare him to clean the toilet just to torment him . . . and to check out that ass. Nah, on second thought, maybe I’ll dare him to wiggle it for me Magic Mike style? Seems like that might be a bit more of a shock to his staid, stoic system.

  And I want to shake him up a bit the way he does me.

  Colton makes a left turn, pulling into a parking garage. “You live in Tristone Towers?” It’s a stupid question, considering he waves at the guardhouse and the security arm rises as we approach.

  But Tristone Towers is the crown jewel of downtown’s residential district. The three slanted, triangular-shaped towers group together to make an even larger triangle, like a housing complex designed by a Zelda nerd.

  Colton doesn’t seem at all phased by the opulence around us, and I wonder again at his past beyond what little I’ve read. He said he’s the black sheep of his family, but I can’t imagine that’s true with his success.

  Colton pulls into a reserved spot, getting out and coming around to my side. He reaches in as though he’s going to help me from the car like a gentleman, but at the last moment, his hand traces up my thigh once more. “You ready?”

  I nod silently, my eyes laser locked on his hand before I look up. But I don’t meet his eyes. Instead, my gaze stops at his waist and the very large bulge straining to break free of his slacks.

  Holy shit! Mouthful? Definitely more than a mouthful. Can you get choked by cock? Because if so, I think I might gag on him.

  As that particularly filthy thought shoots through my mind, I must make some noise because Colton moves his hand to cup my jaw. “Elle?” The tension in the single syllable is so sexy in its hesitancy. He’s giving me an out, but that’s not what I was thi
nking at all.

  I’m standing on the edge, making that last instant decision. Do I jump and pray that I fly, risking that I might crash? Or do I play it safe and back away from the possibilities that lie ‘out there’ somewhere with no safety net?

  It’s not the dare this time sending butterflies through me. It’s him. His very presence, dark and deliciously dangerous, along with the peeks behind the façade he wears to the kind and maybe even injured boy inside who wants to experience fun for the sheer joy of it.

  I look up at him, still in his Lotus as he waits to help me out. “I dare you . . .” His breath catches excitedly. “I dare you to show me those Calvins.”

  Who said that?

  Colton looks surprised, shocked, and then delighted, so it must have been me.

  I’m on the verge of laughing it off as a joke, but as his head turns left then right, scanning the parking garage and noting that we’re blessedly alone, I stay silent.

  I’m not sure if people being around would make a difference to me now, though I’m not usually quite this adventurous in the bedroom. But I’m feeling more daring than ever, so I’m all in and praying he is too. I think it’ll be good for him, in more ways than one.

  “Here?” The pause is so readily obvious, a sure sign that I’m pushing him outside his comfort zone.

  I nod, letting him decide, but I help him along by dropping my gaze hungrily. I’m not exactly a pro with lots of tongue tricks, but I’ve never had complaints about my oral skills, and I’d like to show him that blowjobs can be a footnote on my list of talents.

  “Fuckin’ hell,” Colton groans. His accent suddenly got thicker, like he’s forgotten to moderate it for being in America. “This is bonkers.”

  But his fingers deftly work at his belt and then the button slips free. The quiet teeth of the zipper sound loud from my proximity, and then I see the thick ridge of his fully erect cock covered by black cotton. I lean forward, nuzzling it against my cheek as I walk my fingers to the waistband of his boxer briefs.

  I hold my breath as I pull the cotton down, revealing his hard length. There’s a clear drop of precum on the tip, and I lick my lips, imagining how he tastes.

  “Elle . . .” He’s muttering deep and dark, barely words. I feel like all the power is in my hands, or well, in my mouth, and whether I choose to give him what we both desperately want.

  I lap at his slit, groaning as his salty-sweet flavor covers my tongue. I kiss the crown and then envelop him in my mouth, taking him deeper and deeper with every bobbing movement of my head. I hum against him, feeling the vibrations in my palms where I grip his base.

  He steps forward, blocking me in the car. If anyone came into the garage right now, they’d see him air humping his car, not knowing that my open mouth was right here in the passenger seat, gobbling him down.

  He fucks my mouth, his intensity building as he gets impossibly harder in my mouth. “Fuck . . .” he grits out a moment before I feel his balls tighten up against my fist and then the first spurts of his cum splash across my tongue. I swallow him down, not wanting to miss a drop.

  My legs scissor, and I know I’m soaked through with desire. I just blew my boss in the parking garage after our first date . . . was this a date? I should be freaking out right now, but the thought turns me on even more, giving me the same high that a successful dare does even though this dare was for him.

  “Holy shit,” Colton whispers softly, more emotion than I would’ve expected post-orgasm from a powerful man like him. “Let’s go.”

  He takes his cock from my mouth, and I whimper like he’s taking away my favorite candy. He quickly adjusts his underwear and half-ass fastens his pants, leaving the belt undone in favor of grabbing my arm to help me from the car.

  He hustles me toward an elevator that seems unexpectedly fancy for a parking garage. But as the doors close and we rise just one floor up, the glass walls suddenly make sense. The view takes my breath away as we float higher and higher into the air, the entire town unveiling itself slowly as we climb toward the clouds.

  “How do you leave your place with views like this?”

  Colton chuckles and steps behind me, his hands resting on my hips as he lightly presses his body against me, almost the way he kept doing on the putt-putt course. I still can’t believe I got him to do that, but I arch instinctively now the way I wanted to then. My ass presses back toward him, and my nipples harden in my bra as I lift my chest. “I’ve seen much prettier things tonight.”

  I know he wants to take me right here in the elevator, both of us riding a torrid tidal wave of sexual arousal that would steam up the glass walls of this great elevator. But he holds back, wanting to draw this out.

  Because he’s not on edge the same way I am. I’m hungry, needy, ready for this.

  The elevator dings, opening up to reveal a sight even more opulent and stunning than the elevator ride. The far wall of the space is two floors tall, sloping with the slant of the building’s roof downward to the doors to an outside balcony that rings half the building.

  The inside’s just as beautiful as the outside. Just as classically opulent as his office, everything’s high quality, black marble and cherry wood, chocolate-brown leather and high-end electronics. It looks exactly how I’d expect, like a British bachelor pad.

  “Nice place,” I say with a wink. Nice is the understatement of the century.

  Colton gestures to the couch, his lips twitching at my slight. “Have a seat.”

  I sit down, and Colton goes to the open kitchen area, where a cabinet door reveals a well-stocked liquor cabinet. “What’s your poison?” he asks, already pouring himself a whiskey.

  He’s slowing us down, something I don’t want. I want the unrestrained lust we were floating in moments ago, the mindless drive of our bodies toward one another, and the pleasure pinging from him to me and back again. I don’t want to think. I want to do.

  My blood rushes in my ears as I stand up, heading over to the kitchen to pluck the whiskey tumbler from Colt’s fingers. “Whatever you’re having,” I purr, letting the liquid rush down my throat. It’s smoky, deep, and rich . . . like him.

  He takes the now-empty tumbler back, setting it on the counter behind him. His thumb comes up to trace my lip as he lowers his head toward mine. His tongue peeks out, licking at me, tasting the whiskey from my lips. Before he even truly kisses me again, he pulls back, eyes searching mine.

  “So?” he questions me, but I don’t know what about, nor can I pull together a reasonable thought right now.

  Fuck him, get fucked by him. Missionary, doggie, sixty-nine, pretzel, cowgirl, prone bone, butter churner.

  My brain is listing out sex positions like a Cosmopolitan writer who moonlights for Penthouse and consults for Pornhub.

  “So?” I repeat cluelessly.

  His grin is pure arrogant bastard. “The dare was to come home with me and do what you want with me. So, what do you want to do? Or was the scene in the car the sum total of your fantasies?”

  Oh, if he only knew the filthy images flipping through my mind like a retro ViewMaster.

  Click . . . bent over the counter. Click . . . spread eagle on his bed like he described earlier. Click . . . slick and soapy against the shower wall. Click . . . face down on his desk with him licking me from behind.

  “Bedroom. Now.” My voice is steady and certain, no doubt that I mean precisely what it sounds like.

  Colton’s jaw clenches, and he takes me by the hand, leading me to a staircase and upstairs to a huge bedroom suite. The space is blanketed by rich navy walls, giving it a warm, masculine feel, and it’s easily bigger than my apartment.

  His bed’s just as big as the rest of the bedroom, a fluffy white comforter roughly the size of a tennis court stretched out over the thick mattress. Well, maybe it’s not that big, but you could fit three or four people in there easily.

  Maybe Colton has. I don’t know.

  The errant thought gives me a moment’s pause, but no more. E
specially when Colton steps in front of me, looking at my lips like he wants to consume me.

  “I know I won, and the prize is for you to call the shots, but I’d like to offer a new dare if you’re game.”

  My brow jumps, inviting him to tell me more. Anticipation, excitement, and restlessness begin their familiar buzz again.

  “You tell me your boundaries, exactly how far you want to go tonight, and then let me get us there.”

  I purse my lips, not surprised at all that he wants control back. “Are you a control freak, sir?” I use the endearment intentionally, wanting to gauge his response. If I agree to this, I want to be specific in my rules.

  “I do prefer to be in charge, but I’m certainly fine if you’d prefer to call the shots.” He shrugs, and that answers enough.

  “Okay,” I say, thinking carefully about tonight but also the future, about what my choices now are going to mean at the office tomorrow. “No sex.”

  Colton flinches, disappointment shooting through his eyes, but he swallows thickly and nods. It’s a test and he passed.

  “I want to come. I want you to come. And I want to go home tonight. I won’t pull up to the office tomorrow in your car like the whore people already think I am.” He tries to argue that, but I stop him. “Focus on now. Can you do that? Because I am.”

  “How many times? For you, for me?” he clarifies, letting me know his focus is right where it should be.

  I smile, knowing I’ve got him but also that it’s going to be to both of our benefits. “Well, you’re one up already,” I tease. “Let’s go with two for me and one for you. Make it even.”

  Colton nods. “Counter. At least two.”

  “Feeling pretty good about your own talents, are you?” But I smile my agreement. And the deal is struck.

  “Hold still,” Colton murmurs in my ear as he steps a slow circle around me, his eyes drinking in my figure through my dress. “I want to see you.”

  “I . . . I want to see you too,” I tell him. “I’ve been undressing you with my eyes for ages.”