Triple Dare

by Lexxie Couper

  Rob laughed, the sound rising above them, its undeniable happiness clear in the pristine air. “No,” he said, giving Joseph’s shoulder a thump with his fist. “Pushing you to live.”

  Joseph glared at him. “I live.”

  “Yeah, when I dare you to. Otherwise you’d spend every day in that office of yours. Remember what my dad used to always say? We should work to live, not live to work? If I’d let you, you’d have lived to work my friend. But I’ve lived more with you than I ever would have by myself.” Rob grinned at him. “You know that, don’t you? And now it’s time for me to finish off that life.”

  Joseph shook his head. “No, it’s not.”

  “Ah, Hudo.” Rob squeezed his shoulder, the cheeky grin on his face belayed by the sadness in his eyes. “This is why I love you, mate. You’re a bloody stubborn pain in the arse.” He paused, his smile faltering for a second before returning wider and far more…Robbish…than ever. “I’m going to live more in my last few weeks than anyone else could live in a lifetime.” He flicked the cabin a sideward glance. “Well, anyone apart from you. Something tells me Ranger McCarthy’s going to help you live your life the way it was meant to be lived. Keep giving you those kicks up the backside you usually get from me.”

  Joseph felt—of all things at this stupidly dark, surreal nightmarish point in time—his heart fill with a wholly unexpected heat at the thought of Anna.

  Rob laughed as if he could see into Joseph’s soul and the burgeoning happiness there. He slapped his biceps with his hands and blew out a breath. “Now, let’s get inside. It’s fucking freezing out here and I’m sure Anna’s awake by now. Probably radioing Wolf Creek base as we speak, telling them the moron Australians are lost again.”

  Before Joseph could say otherwise, Rob turned and shuffled back to the cabin, his snowboard boots crunching the new snow, his black hair dancing in the mountainside’s icy breeze.

  Joseph stood and watched him disappear into the hut, numb. Not from the cold, but from…

  He swallowed, a lump the size of the mountain before him suddenly making itself at home in his throat. Cancer.

  He tried to imagine a life without Rob. Tried to see his future without his best friend. He couldn’t. He just couldn’t. It was impossible.

  Cancer.

  His eyes stung. Jesus, he didn’t want to cry. At least not now. It would hurt too much. At least let me get back home to Sydney. Then the waterworks can—

  “You okay?”

  Joseph started. The soft sound of Anna’s voice, plus the gentle feel of her hands smoothing around his waist made him blink.

  He turned his head to her and lifted his arm a fraction. She ducked under it and pressed her body to his in a loose hug.

  “Yeah.” He frowned, wrapping his arms around her back. He rested his chin on the top of her head for a moment, staring at the mountainside. “No.”

  His stomach—no, his soul ached. An agonizing emptiness he doubted he’d ever truly lose. He pressed his lips to her hair, the cool silk not a balm to his grief, but an affirmation that some things happened for a reason. He knew why Rob had told him he was dying this morning. Rob knew—as only Rob could—what was going on in Joseph’s heart.

  Did Rob plan this? Getting lost up here? Did he do this for you, Joseph?

  He closed his eyes, staying the tears threatening to undo him. It was the kind of thing Rob Thorton would do. Piss you off so much you didn’t realize how alive he made you feel until after the anger—the grief—had passed.

  Anna pulled away from him a little and he tightened his arms around her, needing to feel her warmth and softness against him.

  “Can I help?” she asked, her voice kind, her eyes searching his. That she didn’t ask what the problem was only made him love her even more.

  How is that possible? To have your heart ripped out and find it all in one morning?

  He didn’t know. But if he had to blame someone, it would be Rob. Bloody bastard was always messing with his life.

  He chuckled, the sound very close to a sob, and shook his head. He lowered his head to brush his lips over Anna’s in a kiss as gentle as the desire he saw in her clear, direct eyes.

  She smoothed her hands up his back to his shoulders and tugged him closer still. “I’m here if you need me.”

  He let his lips move over hers again, tasting her. Knowing he wanted to do so forever.

  Take life by the balls, Hudo. He heard Rob laugh in his head, as roguish and irrepressible as ever. Go on. I dare you.

  With a steadying breath, he raised his head and gazed down into her eyes. “Come back to Australia with me?”

  She stared at him, not saying anything. Not moving. Not even blinking.

  And then a small smile curled the corners of her mouth and she pressed her body closer to his. “Okay,” she said. “As long as you don’t make me vegemite sandwiches every day for lunch.”

  Joseph laughed, resting his forehead on hers. “Never for lunch.” He snatched a quick kiss. “But maybe on toast for breakfast…”

  She pushed at him, laughing, her eyes twinkling, and he kissed her again, this one not so quick.

  Her tongue moved against his, promising a life of wicked fantasies realized, of romantic dreams fulfilled. She kissed him back and soothed his pain.

  “C’mon,” he murmured against her lips, sliding his arm down her back and tucking her into his side. “Be buggered if I’m going to let Rob get the jump on us. He’ll be back in the lodge scoffing all the beer if we hang around here too long.”

  Anna tilted her head at an angle and gave him a searing look. “Or we could stay just a little bit longer. Y’know…see what comes up?”

  Her hand smoothed down his back, under the waistline of his snow pants, until her fingers skimmed the cheeks of his ass. “C’mon,” she nudged his hip with hers, “I dare you.”

  Epilogue

  Eight months later.

  Joseph closed his eyes, the hammering rhythm of his heart stealing any capacity to think. Jesus, how had he gotten himself into this predicament?

  How had he let her—

  Warm hands slid up his stomach, fingers charting a path over the quivering muscles of his abs and up to his chest. His nipples, already twin points of aching need, puckered harder. He swallowed a groan, knowing he’d lose if he made a sound.

  If he lost, Anna had control for the rest of the day. When Anna had control, they could easily end up in Peru for a dirty weekend. Not that he had a problem with spending a dirty weekend in Peru with Anna, but he had other things planned. Like a dirty weekend in Paris. They hadn’t done Paris yet. They hadn’t—

  “If I suck on your nipple will you moan for me?”

  Anna’s lips brushed Joseph’s right nipple, the tip of her tongue flicking over its distended shape in a teasing little caress that almost sent him mad.

  “Just a little moan?”

  Fuck a duck, with the scent of her juices still lingering on his face and her tight, wet sex gripping and sliding over his shaft as she rode it with slow, steady movements, how the hell wasn’t he going to make a sound?

  He opened his eyes to gaze up at her and bit back a curse, wishing he hadn’t. The sight of her tousled blonde hair, heavy-lidded eyes and parted lips—swollen from the crushing kiss he’d delivered not a few minutes earlier—was almost too much. That she was gloriously naked and her breasts dangled but an inch from his chest didn’t help.

  Jesus, why had he agreed to this challenge? If she could make him utter a sound before either of them came she got to decide the rest of the day’s events. He should have known he’d lose. As soon as Anna touched him he was one big, turned-on six-foot bag of man groans. When they made love…

  The incredulous realization he had no one else to blame but himself for his situation ran through Joseph’s pleasure-fogged mind, just as Anna dipped her head closer to his chest.

  She traced the puckered circle of his areola with her tongue and Joseph ground his teeth, his ass clenching
, his cock jerking inside her at the wicked sensations the action set off in his body. Damn her, she wasn’t playing fair.

  When did she ever?

  “Just a little moan,” she whispered, squeezing her pussy muscles around his dick in a series of quick, mind-blowing pulses and then taking his nipple between her teeth and giving it a soft bite. “A little one.”

  Liquid heat flooded his balls and his heart pounded faster. Right, that was it. He wasn’t going to let her win. He wanted to go to bloody Paris this weekend.

  With abrupt force, he flipped Anna onto her back and drove his cock deeper into her sex. He snatched at her wrists, capturing them in a fierce grip as he captured her delighted squeal with his mouth.

  He plunged his tongue into her mouth, kissing her with brutal hunger, dominating her mouth. Fucking it with his tongue just the way he knew she liked it. Taking his pleasure from her whimpers.

  He thrust harder, faster into her pussy, slamming the root of his shaft against her clit over and over again, mirroring his penetrations of her sex with his tongue.

  She arched beneath him, her legs coming up and wrapping around his hips, locking him to her as she rode his pounding rhythm. Until she tore her mouth from his and cried out, every muscle in her body quivering, her sex constricting around his cock, her climax detonating his own.

  “I win,” he moaned, after what felt like rivers of come spurted from his dick and hours of exquisite, scalding pleasure throbbed through his body.

  “Yeah,” Anna laughed, the sound breathless and ragged. “You win. I so lost that challenge.”

  He chuckled at her quip and slumped onto her for a moment before rolling to her side. His cock slid from her pussy, the sensation making his head giddy. Damn, he’d never get sick of making love to her. Eight months of rarely stepping foot outside his apartment, of doing little except getting to know each other in every way imaginable…

  As it did every time Joseph marveled at his new life—retired at the age of thirty-one with more money than the Prime Minister, free to do pretty much whatever he wanted with the woman he loved more than life—he heard his best friend’s voice in his head.

  Something tells me Ranger McCarthy’s going to help you live your life the way it was meant to be lived.

  He let out a sigh, his lips curling into a slow smile. Ranger McCarthy was two interviews and a ceremony outside the Sydney Opera House away from becoming Nationalized Australian McCarthy. All thanks to Rob and a faulty compass.

  Joseph snorted. He never did send the manufacturers that email. Come to think of it, he wondered if Rob had forgotten as well.

  Doesn’t matter now, does it, Hudo?

  The soft chime of the doorbell floating from the front of his apartment made him scowl. Who the hell was that?

  “I’ll get it.” Anna bounced off their bed, snatching up his polo shirt discarded earlier in a jumble of arms and legs.

  Joseph threaded his fingers behind his head and stared up at the bone-white ceiling of their bedroom. Eight months. Who would have thought eight months without a single doubt or regret.

  Eight months—

  “You got a parcel.” Anna jumped onto the bed and squirmed about until she settled into a relaxed position beside him, legs crossed, a wide grin on her face.

  He rolled onto his side and leant on one elbow as he watched her rip into the large rectangle package. Its wrapping was beaten and worse for wear, the outside covered in more colored stickers and customs labels than he’d ever seen. Which meant it probably came from…

  The pit of his stomach tightened.

  With one final flourish, Anna freed the parcel within of its confines. She burst out laughing and held up the most hideous powder-blue tuxedo jacket ever created.

  A small square of paper slipped from the jacket’s collar and Joseph caught it before it could come to rest on Anna’s bare, bent knee.

  “‘Guess who’ll be coming home for your wedding, guys?’,” he read aloud, the familiar scrawl of Rob’s handwriting on the paper note making his stomach flutter. “‘Yep. Your best man’s in remission, boys and girls. Gotta love the doctors here at the Centro de Medicinas Alternativas. When you lay down a challenge they really know how to pick it up and run with it. Particularly one doctor. She really knows how to handle a challenge. And I mean really really.

  “‘Oh, and Joe, the suit’s for you. I’ve already got mine packed and ready to go. I dare you to wear it on your wedding day. Go on. I dare you.”

  About the Author

  Lexxie’s not a deviant. She just has a deviant’s imagination and a desire to entertain readers with her words. Add the two together and you get darkly erotic romances with a twist of horror, sci-fi and the paranormal.

  When she’s not submerged in the worlds she creates, Lexxie’s life revolves around her family, a husband who thinks she’s insane, a cat determined to rule the house, two yabbies hell-bent on destroying their tank and her daughters, who both utterly captured her heart and changed her life forever.

  Contact Lexxie at lexxie@lexxiecouper.com, follow her on Twitter http://twitter.com/lexxie_couper or visit her at www.lexxiecouper.com where she occasionally makes a fool of herself on her blog.

  Look for these titles by Lexxie Couper

  Now Available:

  Death, The Vamp and his Brother

  The Sun Sword

  Savage Australia

  Savage Retribution

  Savage Transformation

  Coming Soon:

  Dare Me

  Two men plus one woman equals three bodies on fire…

  True Heart

  © 2010 Delilah Devlin

  A Red Hot Winter Story

  True Wyatt’s hands are going to be full enough keeping the herd alive through the dead of winter. The last thing he needs to hear is that his brother Lonny has rented out their isolated hunting cabin to a reclusive writer—especially a sassy, disaster-prone brunette. Who has time to babysit a city girl until spring?

  With a deadline looming, erotica writer Honey Cahill is looking forward to six distraction-free weeks to finish her next book. However, between Lonny’s flirty sensuality and True’s hard-edged intensity, the Wyatt brothers set the stage of her imagination for a winter of wicked delights.

  The fire that destroys the cabin, though, is as real as it gets. Forced to seek a bed under True and Lonny’s roof, the temptation to experiment—all in the name of research, of course—is overpowering. One night in their arms doesn’t feel like enough; it feels like more. Particularly with one cowboy who fires all her cylinders…

  Warning: It’s a Devlin ménage—expect men with stamina and not an ounce of mercy to behave like sex gods, and the lucky woman to love every minute of it. A little domination goes a long, long way…

  Enjoy the following excerpt for True Heart:

  Honey sat huddled under a blanket on the couch Lonny had moved nearer the fire. He’d found a pair of insulated leggings for her to wear that fit her well enough. Her ass kept them from falling off. The sweater was large, and fell off whichever shoulder she shrugged, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. Her own clothing was salvageable and was in the laundry, but she’d save them for her trip off the mountain once the snowplows cleared the road.

  Lonny had checked with the department of transportation and said it might be several days before she could leave. And she was determined to do just that—despite his assurances that she could stay and complete the work she’d come to do.

  However, that seemed pointless. She’d saved the thumb drive, but she didn’t have the heart to finish the new story. She was supposed to write something sexy and flirty, but all she had the urge to create was a tragedy.

  She knew she was feeling sorry for herself, and she should pull up her big-girl panties and get on with it. But she didn’t have any panties on.

  “I have soup.”

  She jumped at True’s quiet words. The man could creep up on a ghost. And was that all he had to say? Seriously?


  Honey bit back a retort, recognizing that what she really wanted was to start a fight—with him. She held out her hand and waited while he turned the mug to present her the handle.

  A small gesture, but one that fucked with her head. Why be gentle? Why pretend to care whether she burned her fingers? She’d burned down his entire cabin—his quaint little hunting cabin that his father had built years ago. Why wasn’t he furious?

  She gulped down a sip of chicken soup and blinked.

  “Couldn’t you tell it was hot?”

  She blinked away pain-filled tears and aimed a blistering glare his way.

  True’s jaw clenched. “I’ll leave you to finish.” He began to turn away.

  She bent to set the cup on the floor. “Why are you avoiding me?” If she could have bit her own tongue and swallowed it whole, she would have.

  True hesitated. “You’ve been through enough.”

  “Don’t give me that crock of—” She glanced away. She wasn’t going to cuss at the man. Wasn’t going to make herself look any more pathetic than she already was.

  “I’m guessing now’s not a good time to check on our girl.”

  Both Honey and True turned to glare at Lonny whose mouth moved like he was biting his lip. Was he laughing at them?

  “Don’t disappear,” True said. “I can’t seem to get anything right.”

  “No kidding,” Honey muttered.

  Lonny walked deeper into the room, glancing from Honey to True. “I take it you’re feeling more yourself, Honey?”

  “I’ve never been less myself,” she snarled.

  “I don’t know about that,” he said amiably. “The color’s back in your cheeks.”

  Honey hit her thigh with her fist. “I don’t shout at men. I don’t ever want to shout at men. But he—” She glared at True. “He manages to push every last one of my buttons.”